#erm... cat peace sign

[waylamia]

Fears (Crash and Collapse)

recommended listening: Spiracle by Flower Face

"Hey." He interjects, voice the same sort of steady and soft he uses on the street cats. "Yeah?" You cut the ignition. "Come sit down." He braces for freefall. "...Why?" And still, you fight for a controlled descent. "Just cuz." He shrugs, less an effort to be nonchalant and more an admission that, really, he thinks it should be obvious.

--> You're struggling to keep it together. Caleb has to make it worse before you'll let him make it better.

reader experience notes: reader is MC, and is waiting on the results of the hunter exam (20-22? probably?), MC/reader is gender neutral and not physically described.

content: hurt/comfort. spoilers and significant discussion of Skyline tender moment. manipulative Caleb because it makes me hard who said that. erm. I cried while writing this so just. warning for that. could very well be a skill issue. very much projecting my personal inability to let anyone help me until im at the very end of my rope onto MC (and. by extension. YOU. 🫵) pipsqueak usage as per usual.

Last fic I gave you MC being a little shit. This fic I give you Caleb being a little shit. Next fic? More of that probably. tbh. Lots of life going on in my life at the moment. Lots of uncertainty and insecurity. Caleb to cope. You know how it is. peace sign emoji.

approx. 7k words (me try to be brief challenge. failed. as per usual.)

also on AO3 (available to registered users only.)

You got really into horror sometime in your early teens.

The first time you suggest an old slasher for your weekly movie night Caleb is...mildly surprised. He's always known you to be someone who picks up their pace juuust a little when passing by a party store animatronic. The type of person who jumped when approached from behind.

It's not that you're a big baby-much as he teases you for it, much as he'd like it-it's just that you've always been a little... sensitive. Easy to startle, with a wildly active imagination. Still, he doesn't need to puzzle long over your newfound interest to figure it out. You'd been on a kick, for a while by then, trying to prove yourself. It was one of those things you didn't talk about. One of those things he just knew. Same way he knew this film choice of yours was gonna be a problem for you.

He just didn't anticipate the problem it was going to be for him, too.

-

You only just beat him to the punch suggesting you visit him at the DAA before your hunter exam. He'd already been planning on coming home after the fact, knowing in exact terms how wrapped up in your own head you could get, the damage you could do to yourself in complete quiet. Were his schedule not so tight he would've taken the week of and before to be with you, too. To help you study and prep your meals and keep you from spinning out. But he couldn't, not with back to back missions from the administration. As it stood he could hardly find the time to call or text or order you delivery. Honestly it'd been making him twitch.

He's had to settle for hoping that, in the single day he would see you before the exam, he'd be able to instill enough confidence in you to make up for the absence. Remind you that you've always been able to carve yourself a flight path through the wind shear.

He had thought that, with it being your suggestion to make the trip, you'd be willing to let him help.

That quickly proves not to be the case.

All day you've avoided the problem, all day he's let you. Ever ready and willing to bend to your desires, to meet your needs. That, unfortunately, is the crux of the issue. He could see it on your face. That the thought of the exam never really left you, yes, but more importantly that you had something you desperately wanted to say. You've been playing it very cool and he's sure, under the scrutiny of any other's gaze you would come across as completely composed. But Caleb knows every single one of your tells. Bags under your eyes, the way your gaze would drift, go distant, fall to nothing along with your falling expression. That minuscule catching of your breath at any mention of it, your fidgety fingers, your too fast talking.

All tells and no telling.

For all the plain-as-day he can see you, you still adamantly refuse to acknowledge it. To let him in. To let him help. It's a recurring problem between you two, and he knows he's every bit as guilty.

'More guilty!' your voice, in the back of his head. 'More guilty and way, way worse!'

He chooses to write it off as shyness. Not with him, never with him, but from being out in the open, at his place of work, under the observation of his colleagues. Surely that is what is responsible the staying of your tongue.

But when he draws you away, not into any real privacy-you have an uncanny ability to sense when you are being cornered-but onto the landing strip-and into your shared memory-and you still won't reveal your fears aloud? He can't help but to rake through every missed call, every too short text, every day not spent with you, and wonder which was responsible for cauterizing the vein that pumps blood from your heart to his. Which of his failures saw the knot tying your brain stems together untangling?

It's all backwards, he thinks. These things are supposed to get easier with age. But the older he gets, the older you get, the more distance between you, the more he knows something's coming-

Every separation feels final. He thought he had more time.

He does, at least today. He's finally able to coax it out of you, in the midst of reminiscing, on the runway. Even though he can still see the undercurrent of anxiety in your eyes, he's able to settle with your exclamation of belief in yourself as a landing plane roars overhead. He shakes his thoughts loose, leaves them out in the air to be consumed by the jet engine, breathes.

'I'll make you proud, too!'

'You already have.'

Breathes only for you to scream out a wish that steals the air from his lungs again. The one thing that he's found increasingly intolerable to grant you.

He's spent a whole life bargaining, with himself, and with you, and so he raises his wish to your own.

The land and the sky, and the horizon line where they meet.

'Little seagull in my next life, promise me you won't disappear again.'

You're going to be just fine. He'd decided it years ago. So even when he...

You're going to be fine.

And, you'll pass your exam on the first try, too. Truthfully, he's never had any doubt.

-

That first, daring movie night goes exactly how he expects it to. Your 13 year old, impulsive self sits through the entirety of it trying very hard not to look tense at his side. Suppressing startled movements at jumpscares and playing off every escaping jolt with a laugh about aging effects. He's impressed by the show you put on, even with his ability to see so clearly behind the curtain of it. He would love to tell you that he's always impressed with you, that you're plenty tough, because its true. And he would tell you, if it weren't for the part of him that didn't want you to know. The part of him that maybe wishes you weren't.

That... sounds bad doesn't it?

He doesn't... not want you to be tough. He doesn't wish you weren't strong. Proves it every day by helping you get stronger. Mentally, physically, emotionally. He knows he won't always be there to protect you. It's that he takes issue with. Every day you push yourself, to the extent he encourages and then beyond that. He wishes you wouldn't. Wishes you didn't have to.

All his life trying to be big enough for the both of you to fit in. All of yours trying to wriggle out of the cavity in his chest. To hold his hand, to match his pace... fundamentally, he understands.

He's just... trying to find a way to be ok with it.

Certainly hasn't made it there yet by the time the credits roll. He looks you over, equal parts curious and concerned for your state of mind, and is unsurprised to see his original assumption proven right. Instead of your usual, post-film, deep-into-the-night exhaustion he's met with wide awake eyes, flickering glances around the room, and fidgeting fingers.

Yuuup. You're scared. It's a matter of course that he knows.

So he stays up with you. Doesn’t call it what it is and doesn't bother to make you either, just claims he’s craving apple cider before dragging you into the kitchen to help him make it. By the time you're finished with the preparing and consuming of the beverage late-in-the-night has turned to early-in-the-morning. Your eyes now blinking shut at increasing intervals, head drooping only to shoot quickly upright. Caleb is sure to see you tucked into bed before making for his own. He figures that'll be the end of it. That next week will find the pair of you back to family friendly flicks and the odd action film, and the memory of warm apple cider and poorly covered laughter will overwrite that of the gore and fear.

It wouldn't be the first time you've forgotten.

-

When Caleb finally makes it home you're in a worse state than he left you.

Your exam has come and passed. All that's left is your hoping that you will too.

...He knows it's bad when you start in on the rambling. Knows that the mile a minute your mouth is running is only the tip of the iceberg when it comes to what is rumbling and roiling in your head. Glacial mass primed to be overturned. So he's careful, in the way he works around you, all movement steady and slow. Every step intentional, focused. A counterbalance to your pacing, your waving arms and sudden stops. The calm and the storm, equal in their challenge of each other.

"-honestly I think she'd be making the right call. I mean we'll be busy-or, well, hopefully we'll be busy and she's really not going to have time to be dealing with a side job anyways. She likes it well enough, obviously, but being a hunter is more important to her so as soon as she-if- ugh, no. It's Tara. She's so smart, she's going to pass, of course. And she's stubborn. So when-" You nudge a glass off of the side table as you continue your march back and forth in front of the couch.

Caleb catches it with his evol without even turning to look. Ushers the narrowly spared thing to the distant dining room table, as he drapes the big, cozy leopard print blanket over the couch cushions. He hums along as you continue speaking.

"-and anyways I know the corner store owner likes to treat the neighborhood kids to free ice cream on the weekends it just like, and this sucks obviously, but from a business standpoint I'm worried that-"

The big apple pillow, that calming tea you like steaming on the coffee table, that terrible animated movie you loved as a kid endlessly repeating its menu music on the tv screen. He nods, satisfied with his work, and plops down on the far end of the couch. Fluffing the empty space beside him as you press singlemindedly, obliviously on.

"-Gran has been working too much, again. I don't know why she works at all really. I mean I know why I guess. I just hoped that maybe- Well, when I- If. I mean. Or if not, then- next year at least, hopefully-"

Ok. That's enough.

"Hey." He interjects, voice the same sort of steady and soft he uses on the street cats.

"Yeah?" You cut the ignition.

"Come sit down." He braces for freefall.

"...Why?" And still, you fight for a controlled descent.

"Just cuz." He shrugs, less an effort to be nonchalant and more an admission that, really, he thinks it should be obvious.

It feels every bit like coaxing a cornered animal. Some frightened little thing that doesn't know that you mean well, all raised hair and hissing and averse to surrendering to open, waiting arms. Unknowing that a moment of stillness and calm is all that stands between it and warmth, shelter, and care.

But you aren't a cornered animal and you know exactly how well he means. Which leaves your peace, or lack thereof, to be determined entirely by your own whims and will. In this matter, you seem to be particularly unwilling.

Usually it's enough for him just to ask. For him to just softly say the words. Not today.

"I'm fine." You say. Liar.

"I didn't say you weren't." His brows raise, he's never liked it when you get defensive, it makes him anxious. Ground proximity warning. Missed call. 'Evol Monitoring Experiment will now commence'. Your bedroom door slamming shut.

Tolling bell.

"You're implying it." You cross your arms over your chest, defiant and irritated. He blinks, in lieu of rolling his eyes.

"I'm not implying anything, just come sit." He pats the space beside him on the sofa, brushes over the plush blanket encouragingly. You remain unmoved. "pips, sit down."

"I do not need you to tell me what to do." You bite out, bristling at his insistence. "You're stressing me out." You're losing altitude. His gaze cuts to meet yours.

"I think you're stressing yourself out." And he's going down with you.

You look like you're trying not to say something mean, and he hates it. How many times has he told you to tell him exactly what you're thinking? He can take it. He wants to.

"You need to sit down and try to stop thinking for a few minutes. The exam results will be posted on schedule. You won't speed up the clock by talking faster." He's teasing, and he knows it's the wrong call, even before he starts to say it. But he's desperate, and he knows you.

And so, he knows, with you like this...

"Obviously I know that! If you're tired of listening to me just say that. I'm not trying to ruin your time home by being a complete fucking mess." Tail spin. Good. Now, you can release the controls, and let him stabilize you.

"Woah woah hold on, hey. I'm not tired of listening to you. I'm never tired of listening to you." He shoots up, speaking in a gentle, if not a little frantic, tone, covers the distance between you in two sweeping steps. "I'm never tired of you, period. And you aren't ruining anything-" He grasps at your hands, only for you to jerk violently away. Breathing heavy and ragged.

"...Pips." You won't raise your head, completely refusing to look at him. Your arms are folded over your chest, hands shaking where they dig into the meat of you. He knows you're blinking back tears, he just knows.

"Pips, come on, come sit and we can talk about it, okay?" Why won't you just let go.

"I... think I'm gonna go lay down, actually." With the sentence barely choked out, you turn tail to your room, each of your echoing steps away a blade digging into the parts of him he always, and only, leaves exposed to you.

Caleb sits alone in the living room for a long while, steadying the knife as it twists. He knows you want to cry. And now, he knows you won't. Not when you know he's around to hear.

You want to do this, to get through this, alone.

The thought makes something bubble up in him. Like tar. Dark and wretched and thick. He'd left you on your own too long, left you with too much time to idle and fester, and he's being punished for it.

Its only a little bit past noon, but he's sure he won't see you again until dinner. So he might as well get started on it.

-

Caleb is on alert the moment he hears the quiet creak of you slowly pulling open your bedroom door. Doesn’t matter how late it is, how deep he is into sleep, he is always hyperaware of your presence in the house. Sometimes, he’d swear he could hear you breathing beyond the barrier of the door, the walls. Many times he’s come running to your bedside at an imagined hitch in your breath, only to find you peacefully asleep. He worries that you have nightmares. That somewhere, inside, your brain or your heart remembers. Tonight, at least, he’s certain that that isn’t what’s gotten you up. Your little feet pad across the floor of the hall, sound dampened by fuzzy socks and considerate caution, they stop just outside his door. Everything is silent and still. You’ve always been a polite kid. He wishes you wouldn’t be, with him. He’s tried to lead by example, barging into your room unannounced just to pester you and then go again, door open. The lesson never seems to stick. Because here you are, terrified and in the dark and still just standing outside the door, trying to figure out if he's still awake. In his mind’s eye he sees you with your ear leaned into it, careful not to brace your hands against it, lest the cracked thing fall the rest of the way open. It's always left a little bit open for you. In case you need him.

You should know better, by now, than to bother listening for any signs of activity. He can imagine your brow all furrowed, mouth curved into a frown at the silence beyond his door. He suppresses a grumble of irritation. He knows you feel guilty for how late movie night kept you both up-despite the fact that the extension of it was all his idea and-as far as you know-in service of his own desires-and that you don’t want to risk disturbing his rest further. He's yet to figure out how to make you stop thinking about stupid things like that. Caleb sits up in his bed, grabs a book off of his nightstand, flips it open, and summons his evol to pluck a pen out of the cup on his desk to drop on the floor. The clatter of it just audible enough for you to hear from beyond the barrier of the door. Only then do you press it open and speak. "...Caleb? Are you awake?"

He hums an affirmative and you push through the gap in the door, closing it behind you just as quietly as you’d entered, before turning back to him. "...why are you reading in the dark?" You ask accusingly. "What are you still doin up? don't you have an early day tomorrow?" He pokes at you. Hoping to distract you from scrutinizing his actions with an interrogation into your own. It’s proven effective, in the past. "Don't you?" You ask back, whip quick. And really he only has himself to blame for your mastery of redirection. Regardless, he tries again. “Movie scare you a little too bad pips?” His look is knowing, not questioning. Even in the dark, he knows you can hear it in his voice. You scoff. “No. I just wanted to-“ He turns on his nightstand light, and your present state comes out of the dark with it. Your jaw is tensed like you're biting your tongue, a bad habit you've had since you were little, and your arms are wrapped tight around the stuffed toy you’ve recently taken to insisting you didn’t need anymore. Your gaze falls to your feet.

"Uh huh?" It's a challenge, if you choose to take it. Or an observation, if you feel like being honest. Your voice comes out small, breaks a little on the words.“…Don’t make fun of me?” And he is genuinely a little hurt by that. “When do I ever?” His voice breaks too.

-

Dinner draws you out, as expected, and thankfully you're too wound up to call him on the early hour of it.

But the bridge between you is hardly crossed.

In an almost perfect inversion of your earlier verbosity, now its impossible for him to get a response of more than two words out of you. You do that. Explode and then collapse in on yourself. Go to some dark corner in your mind and decide everything you think and say is ridiculous and wrong and try to shrink yourself down into nothing. He's spent years getting good at bringing you back into the light.

And, failing that, bringing the light to you.

The problem being, currently, that he's tried most of his old tricks already. Tried being calm-and-comforting Caleb, and teasing-big-dummy Caleb, and bossy-older-brother Caleb. All he'd gotten was ignored, yelled at, and shut out... nothing was working.

He left you alone too long.

And really, what were they teaching you at school? What kind of stress testing did they put hunters through? If it's anything like the Aerospace Academy-

Thought cut off at the root. Rabbit hole not worth going down. He doesn't have the time for it. You've got four and a half bites left.

Chopsticks raised to your mouth. Three and a half, now.

Forget it. Full suppression fire.

"...You're definitely right about Tara. If she hasn't quit her job by the next time you two talk you really should encourage her to." He puts his own utensils down, focuses all his attention on you, on speaking steady and slow.

"Huh?" You look at him like he just said the sky is chartreuse.

"You'll both be busy, and the work will be demanding, especially to start, I know you know that-"

"Caleb what are you even talking abou-" You cut your own question off, brain catching up to his sudden topic change. He watches your face as you process it.

You hate it when he does this, reminds you that he remembers every little thing you say, recites it back to you. Your eyes widen in realization, and then embarrassment.

Normally, this is the part where he'd comfort you, tell you there's no reason to feel shy around him.

Not tonight.

"You said she likes the job 'well enough' but if it isn't her dream there's really no good reason for her to pursue anything else when what she really wants is right in front of her." Tonight, he just keeps pressing.

You, for your part, attempt to ignore him, just take the commentary for what it is. You raise another bite to your mouth.

Ah, he gets it. If his game is to get let in, your game is to get gone.

Two and a half.

"The extra money would be nice, sure. But not at the cost of her sanity."

"Caleb-" You push back.

"Also, if you ask me, I think the corner store owner has been wanting to close up shop for awhile now. He's getting older and, like you said, he's clearly more passionate about community care than running a business. I guess it's just a matter of letting go." His gaze is fixed on you, pointedly.

"Caleb, seriously. Stop."

"You have to trust that he knows what he's doing pip. He's been in the game for a long time. Longer than you remember probably."

"I don't want to have this-"

"-and I don't think either of us could get Gran to stop working if we tried. She'd die of boredom sitting in this house all day, with or without either of us in it. 'S got nothing to do with how much money you do or don't make, you should know that. That I've got you and I've got her too. Have the whole time."

"I know. I know, I wasn't trying to say-" You respond rapidly. Both of your voices picking up speed. "-none of which is going to matter anyway because you are the smartest person I know, and the most stubborn. If by some insane, unprecedented, cosmic fluke you didn't pass-"

"You don't listen to me!" You shout over him.

Do you hear yourself?

He isn't sure if he says it out loud, if he does, he didn't mean to. Either way you shake your head.

"You're not listening to me right. now." You take another bite, give yourself a second to think, before speaking again. "...I don't want to talk about right now, I don't want to think about it..."

"But you are." He stops you, matter of fact.

"I-I'm trying-"

"Stop. Stop trying." Change in tone, eyes softening. You have a soft spot for kicked dogs. "Give it to me." Not a question. Not a request.

You push your plate towards hims, half a bite, untouched.

"Thank you for dinner. I'm going to bed."

Mission failure.

Your door is shut and locked, this time, behind you. Like you don't trust him not to come in saying 'And another thing-'. And maybe you're smart for it, and maybe you're right, but its frustrating nonetheless. He doesn't know how to get through to you. It's so obvious that you need a reset. An emotional release before you take to the air again. There's no shot you'd pass a systems check like this.

He ruminates over it while he cleans up dinner, lifting a plate from the filled, soapy half of the basin to scrub. You can't stop the flood from coming. You've tried, it always comes. And he knows you'll hate yourself if it happens out there. In front of your friends, or the corner store owner, or a barista, or some other perfect stranger. It should happen here, needs to happen here, and soon. While Grandma's not home and no one but him can see you. Where no one else can get their hands on you when you're all raw and vulnerable. He runs water over the dish. Places it on the rack to dry.

The thought strikes him with the clink of the ceramic.

'I'm not trying to ruin your time home by being a complete fucking mess.'

...Yeah. He knows what he has to do.

-

He curls himself around you in his bed, blanket covering all but the very top of your head, you've always been close, impossibly close. Both physically and otherwise.

But this is different, feels different.

Sure, you'd shared a bed before, regularly, even. But sleeping together was only ever about comfort, about ease. Too tired to haul yourselves off the couch. Late afternoon study sessions in summer heat drawing your eyes closed. Muffled giggles settling to silence under the flashlit borders of a blanket fort. But this?

Since the research center, you've never curled into him like this, like you were hiding, like he could hide you. You aren't just sleeping next to Caleb, your brother and best friend and confidant. No, you needed to sleep with Caleb, your shield. You're protector. Your home. Your safest place. Not this house, not your room, not your bed. Caleb's. Caleb.

Your breathing went steady so fast, arms sagging where they wrapped gently around him. You fell asleep so fast.

It's good, he thinks, that you did. You can't say anything about his hammering heart if you aren't awake to hear it.

-

He replays the memory, over and over. The image, the feel of you curled up against him in the dark and quiet, all safe and warm, consumes him like fire. Fuels the furnace that pushes the machine of him to action.

He's carefully tilting and adjusting the stacked ceramic plates in the cupboard when he hears the resounding click of your door opening. He purses his lips, calls on his evol to hold the plates still and steady as he quietly, firmly, closes the cupboard. He has only just enough time to fling an apple from the bowl on the far counter into his waiting hand before you turn the corner. You blink up at him like you're surprised to see him there. It's been about an hour since dinner, and you know it only takes him minutes to do the dishes. So it would make sense for him to have retreated to his room, by now. With how quiet he'd been, in his focus, you were surely expecting him to be scarce. He fights not to roll his eyes, you only emerged because you thought he'd be long gone, then.

He disregards the thought, the game of cat and mouse will be a nonissue by this time tomorrow. For now, he's just glad he caught you. Can't have you setting things in motion too soon. He knows your guard is still up from earlier, can see it in the curve of your shoulders.

"D'ya need somethin pip?"

"No. I'm just..." You shuffle in place.

"...About... half a bite hungry?" He asks with a tilt of his head, gestures at the apple cradled in his palm.

He's already got a paring knife in hand by the time you nod. Is already cutting bunny ears into apple slices by the time you're sat on the counter.

-

It quickly becomes a pattern. Even as you continue to get older, distance yourself from him in myriad other ways. Became more and more independent, self-assured, self-reliant. All through your middle and high school years, if you watched a horror movie, you'd sleep in his room, in his arms, where nothing else could get you.

So when he came home to visit on your 18th and you queued up some jumpscare laden gorefest, he'd had an expectation for how the rest of the night would go.

It didn't. You didn't come to his room.

...Not on your own, at least.

-

Normally, on a morning like this, with both of you home, you'd wake to Caleb already making breakfast. Especially when you'd fought the night before. This morning, as he sat awake and waiting in his room, he'd run through the series of actions and reactions he expected from you.

You wake with a yawn, stretch your limbs, sit up only to fall immediately back with a groan. It takes you at least six tries, unchecked on, to make it out of bed. You'll stay there, barely awake in bed for anywhere from 3-35 minutes. Deciding whether or not you are going to go right back to sleep. Actually getting out of bed only if your stomach grumbles, or you hear Caleb in the kitchen.

You must've woken up hungry. He'd heard you step out of your room and down the hall, bright, early, and unprovoked.

You'll step into the kitchen, grumble an expletive and any combination of mean, dummy, idiot Caleb that comes immediately to mind, and then make yourself a piece of toast. It's the easiest way to get something in your belly without having to think, and its way, waay too early to be thinking. So you'll pop a slice of bread into the toaster, and reach up to grab a plate-

He's on his feet three seconds before the crash comes. Exact awareness of its source and cause hardly stopping the wave of panic that hits him, the immediate, pressing need to get to you.

He rounds the corner to the kitchen, inspects the damage. He wouldn't have done it at all, if he didn't trust your reflexes, and its clear that you did dodge. You're standing just a few small steps back from the pile of shattered ceramic at your feet. Your bare feet, he scolds himself internally, he had been counting on you to have your hard-soled slippers on. Your arms are raised, elbows tucked tight into your sides, hands floating in front of you like they are trying to figure out some way to be of use. Aside from your dropped jaw, your face is flat, still processing the mess on the floor before you, where it came from, the loud, sudden sounds of it.

"Pip-squeak..." He speaks low, endeavoring not to startle you into moving. You must have heard him rush down the hall. Or, you just know him well enough to know he'd be there. He takes a step toward you, already using his evol to push the nearest shards of ceramic away from your feet.

"I don't even know what happened..." You barely speak, like its hard to get the words out at all. An automatic response, no defense mechanism, no guard.

It's what he's been looking for.

"...are you okay?" He asks, voice coated in concern.

It's a trigger phrase. It serves it's purpose.

A gasped intake of breath, tears welling up in your eyes. You take a step back just in time for him to get his arms around you, stop you from slipping on something sharp, from sinking down to the floor.

"I-I don't even know- w-what I did!" You don't fight him, just let him hold you. Rub your arms while you shake and cry and sputter.

"I'm so... So tired. I don't- Caleb I'm so scared!" Now, everything bursts from you. The dam cracks, the flood comes. Any relief Caleb might have felt is overshadowed by his heart dropping at your words.

"Why're you scared, pip?" he squeezes you in tighter, one arm wrapped high around your back, hand cradling your head as he presses it into his chest. The other arm at your waist, ready at any time to move lower and lift you, whenever standing gets to be too much. He sways a little where he stands, an effort to soothe you, if only enough to keep you talking to him. Anyone but him would struggle to understand you through your blubbering.

"I'm-I'm afraid I'll fail. And I can't I just can't." You furiously shake your head in his chest. "I was so anxious during the exam-I know they could see my hands shaking during the written portion-and. AND I went down during the combat simulation. I mean I got up-I got up quick-but I went down, Caleb!" You're fully yelling now, every word sounds like its being punched out of you. He stays through it, same firm grip, same gentle movement. "I know there's next year, and the year after that, and the year after that. But what if it is that? What do I do if it's 'next year' forever?!" You stop abruptly at that. Left with nothing but to loudly cry against him, fists gripping harshly at the fabric of his shirt. The way he's wrapped himself around you, you can't see his jaw clench.

It's everything he expected to hear, everything he was afraid you would say. He takes deep, slow breaths, tightens and loosens his arms around you in time with them, encouraging you to do the same. Your staccato breathing starts to level out, sobbing reduces to sniffles.

"What... what if I'm just not good enough?" You sound wounded, cut open broken. Already devastated over something that hasn't happened. Something that won't happen.

Caleb lifts you up, gets your legs around his middle, steps over and through the mess on the floor like he couldn't care less about it, because its true.

"You're too hard on yourself..." He carries you to the living room, to the couch. "You're hardly the first person to have test anxiety, hardly the first hunter to trip up in combat." He flops down, takes you with him, rubs circles into your back, uses his free hand to massage your neck, the space just behind your ears.

"You're going to pass." He says it with certainty. In part because you need to hear it, but mostly because he believes it, without a shadow of a doubt. You whimper, squeeze your arms where they are wrapped around him.

"...what if-" You start to mutter.

"Nope." He cuts you off.

"But-"

"You're going to pass." He should've figured it out sooner. You're smart enough to reason the facts out without his help. You didn't need him to tell you there's always next year, that he's got you covered if something goes wrong, that there's nothing to be afraid of. At your core you know that. You didn't need a reality check.

"You're going to pass." A statement of fact, made with no room for argument.

You needed an anchor.

For a long time, you're silent in his lap. Pin-drop quiet interrupted only by the odd sniffle. Until, eventually, fight and fury and fear finally exhausted, your shoulders sag. Your body goes lax.

"Okay..." Delayed replay so quiet it almost goes unheard.

When you tuck your head into the side of his neck, he drops his own to nuzzle over you.

-

Caleb knew it was unfair, and that it maybe made him a bad person. But when the movie ended and all you did was yawn and waltz off to bed without a care in the world, something in him snapped a little. And truthfully, he thinks he's allowed. Routines are made to be stuck to. You're the one breaking rank here. He's been at the Academy, away from you, for months now. Heavens forbid he wants to cash in on his allotted snuggle time.

And so, he didn't feel bad when hooked Josephine's old landline back up to the power. Didn't feel bad when he called you back into the kitchen to help him do dishes.

"Uuugh... you know I'll just slow you down."

"Been doing your laundry all week pips, you owe me. Really, I should be making you do this aaall by yourself."

Continues, to not feel bad, as he thumbs his phone in his pocket to call the number.

"You might as well, if you're gonna be such a diva about-"

The landline rings. You jump at the sudden noise, face quickly warping in confusion, as you both stare at the offending machine.

"What the fuck?"

"Language, pip." He nudges your shoulder as the ringing stops, is careful to speak over the sound of him using his evol to disconnect the line once more. "Didn't grandma unplug that thing ages ago?"

"I... yeah, I mean. I thought so..." You take several cautious steps towards the phone, crouching down to inspect the line. "...It's definitely unplugged."

Caleb offers his most convincing, confused hum. "Well... that's weird." He shrugs his shoulders. "Anyways, if you want to do the dishes by yourself that's fine with me."

You keep your wary gaze locked on the phone. "No... no you should stay."

It's a fight to keep his grin down.

"Whatever you say pips."

-

You were lucid just long enough to agree to his idea of watching that old cartoon you love. To crawl mostly off of his lap and curl into his side, under the big leopard blanket, with the apple pillow in your arms. He thinks about getting up to make you tea but ultimately decides against it. Choosing instead to keep massaging your scalp. His gaze directed at the screen but unfocused, far away. He listens to your breathing change, feels your lashes flutter against his collarbone as your head droops, soaks in the warmth of you at his right side. A breath shutters out of him, his body goes lax.

It was all necessary. It was all worth it.

You fell asleep so fast.

-

By the time dishes are done and your teeth have been brushed you've settled back down. Seeming perfectly content to call it a night and go your separate ways. In any other circumstance, he'd commend your resolve.

As it stands, you're kind of killing him.

He knows he has to be careful. If his cards aren't played exactly right, you'll catch on, remember exactly how his evol works, and accuse him of messing with you. Seriously, you're so smart, too smart for his own good. So he has to think of something else. Something you can't trace back to him, something you can't excuse.

If, and only if, he offers Gideon a couple hundred bucks to make the late trip from Skyhaven to Linkon and-without being caught-knock at the front door, wait thirty minutes and then knock again...

Well. That's nobody's business but his.

He's brushing his teeth when the first set of knocks comes. Perfect. You pad from your bedroom over to the bathroom, poke your head in. "Caleb?"

"Mmph?" He muffles through a mouth full of toothpaste.

"Someone just knocked on the door."

He furrows his brow, spits into the sink. "You sure?"

"Yes, I'm sure." 'Go look!!' goes unspoken.

He moves casually through the house, with you all but clinging to him, his good little tail. He swings the front door open, looks around, ignores the rustling where he can see Gideon climbing up a nearby tree.

"Pips. There's nothing there." He looks at you seriously, face a mask of concern.

Your eyes go wide. "But- are you sure?" You move to push past him. He takes several steps out onto the porch, makes a show of looking around.

"Seriously pip, there's nothing." He looks you up and down, a performative study of you. "...think maybe the movie freaked you out a little?"

"No! Well.. ugh. Maybe, I guess." You rub your arm self consciously. "...Lets just call it a night."

He breaks into a smile. "Sure thing." He's about to call Gideon off, as you make your way back into the house.

...Right up until you shout 'Goodnight!' from down the hallway and shut yourself in your room.

Alright then, one last push.

And it comes, thirty minutes later on the dot. Four sturdy knocks at the front door. Caleb smiles to himself from where he lays flat on his back in bed. He hears it all. Your door being carefully cracked open, the silence that follows. Your feet down the hallway, toward the entryway, toward the door, the silence that follows that. The way your pace picks up as you race back to your room.

His phone lights up.

'Caleb.'

A typing bubble appears and fades again.

'Did you hear that??'

He stares at the screen, stone-faced, already getting into character.

'Hear what?' And really, he isn't being cruel. He's just righting the balance.

[kismetmoon]

@ciphercalamitiez erm, yer dude 🐀

[ID: a monochrome digital sketch of an original, stylised Flatland character named Piper. Piper is a humanoid character with an eye for a head with fluffy hair-like extensions all around it and two floating triangular shapes above. They have a thin body with stick limbs, a tail and are wearing a scarf that flows behind them.

They are posed with their knees bent and one hand resting on the closest leg and the other hand is making a peace sign. They are smiling while looking to the right.

There is also a small doodle of a cat's face in the top left corner with text above it that says "míáú". End ID].

[yuukei-yikes]

ah! if you're taking questions about the fankids, can i ask about what's going on about the whole reincarnation thing? (how konoha finds out, if anyone else figures it out, even how he finds out about konoha (before he died) and the whole "daze" thing in the first place. poor kid's got a lot to deal with lol)

YIPPEEEEEEEEEE <- this yippe was written before i finished writing the reply. no yippee anymore. under the cut bc i also went crazy long with this and its embarrassing and erm erm erm erm. hehe. so much mental illness i basically wrote a fic under the cut

i've actually answered this before BUT im changing my answer. when i answered that ask konoha and ayame were only like 40 hours old so now it's simmered in my head better...hehehehheheheeh <- my evil laugh because im abt to give konoha 80 mental illnesses.

so i know i linked to the old answer but if u went to read it just forget abt everything i say in there

yknow how i talked abt like overprotective parents haruka&takane in my last ask LOL i actually had a big wall of text that i deleted while answering because it was rly sad and it got super long and i was like erm. maybe another time and THEN I GOT THIS ASK AND IM LIKE BOYYY WHY DID I DELETE THE TEXT but whatever i'll just go crazy now and even more bc i can dedicate the whole space to it HEHEHEHEHHEEH

konoha is nonverbal for years and since ayano works with kids i think she knows sign language teehee and when it became obvious konoha wasn't going to speak as a kid haruka&takane are like. well. let's do that ig. mekakushi dan learning sign language arc 💖 still is nonverbal most of the time i think. if i had thought of it beforehand i would've kept it for present time JUST IMAGINE THE DOODLES I MADE THE FIRST TIME HE'S SIGNING EVERYTHING IVE DECIDED MY NEXT GEN KONOHA IS NONVERBAL. HE DICHO. CASO CERRADO

ok they're overprotective not only bc they're disabled4disabled and terrified that konoha will one day wake up and be diagnosed with u got 6 years to live type of thing but also. konoha autism swag

and when konoha becomes a toddler shit goes down. then he starts hallucinating and having all these night terrors abt stuff like hibihiyo's timeloop and reviving azami over and over while she was living in the real world but also he's a kid so he doesn't really register all this horrifying stuff the same an adult would duh. and he kind of ALWAYS saw it he just can put it into words now ig. so he's not like AUUUUGHHH he's more like.. confused and scared. he's also not super communicative and i dont mean that bc he's nonverbal like even if he is, he still speaks through signs!! but he's still kind of quiet and slow and etc. like he IS konoha yknow?? he's just like playing and hanging out and suddenly just sees azami and he's like erm mom can u tell the lady in the corner to go away :(( and takane's like LOL. GET IN THE FUCKING CAR. he just gets diagnosis or derivations to other doctors and a child therapist etc and its not wrong bc HE IS completely human now and that whole thing IS translating into not only a human mind but like A TINY human mind. basically mental illness. so many mental illnesses.

HE'S STILL A RLY HAPPY KID...BUT THERE'S SO MUCH TO GET THRU... it's not like he's permanently hallucinating or having night terrors every night either he leads a fairly normal life!!! and is a little kid and has fun and plays around and he's so so so sweet and rly happy!!! but. there's also The Horrors.

i dont think the dan would hide their powers. like yeah sure kano can turn into a cat yippeee!! if we lose a toy we go to hibiya he can find anything!! seto can ALWAYS guess what number we're thinking of it's so funny!! LIKE IT'D BE CUTE RATIO + PLAYING + HAVING FUN OK? PEACE AND LOVE ON PLANET EARTH, OK!?!?!?!?

but the thing is that haruka saw everything konoha did like THEY WERE. YEAH. haruka & konoha is a THING so i think konoha can ask something and haruka's increasingly like HOW DO YOU KNOW THAT bc there is no way ANYONE could've told him that like the only person who would know is. WELLLLLL KONOHA? i think the big reveal can happen thru konoha being like hey. do u remember when we talked. in that big white room that never ended. that was rly weird lol like when did that happen. where even were we lol. also u were yelling thats so weird u never yell it was scary. lol!! and haruka's like Hehe(shaking) bc as soon as he realises He Cannot Stop realising

what the dan doesn't say is their story ofc bc it's rly sad and like why would they tell their kids abt that lol but. konoha starts asking Questions... Very Specific Questions.

ok sorry i havent even gotten to the way he finds out he's even awakening eyes LOL i think haruka realises btw. he realises before konoha realises. well konoha DOESNT realise. but he HAS been having this identity crisis and he's like damn i already transed my gender WHAT IS IT THIS TIME and he keeps asking these oddly specific questions that are freaking everybody out because he's not even really asking about their pasts?? he's just like mixing his old memories to his current memories and being like uncle shintaro remember when we fell off that high place together :3 and shintaro's like what the fuck are u talking about. like he doesn't describe it specifically enough or whoever he's talking to just assumes someone else told him abt something that happened back then.

like THATS HIS OTHER SELF so haruka isnt even doubting it, as soon as he realises HE DOESNT UNREALISE HE DOESN'T TRY TO CONVINCE HIMSELF OTHERWISE once he knows HE KNOWS. but konoha still doesn't know he's just kinda watching haruka having like a crisis or something.

from then on erm.... about how to manage it... well it'd be a complicated situation. haruka obviously tells takane and she's like ur fucking crazy lol im gonna go talk to him *leaves* *comes back* ok u were right. how the fuck did we even create this.

basically the dan knows before konoha does and it becomes a rly complicated subject about what to do about it because most of them are like the only way to rly make sure is to talk to konoha and they dont know if they wanna do that because they'd have to come clean about their horrible story and yknow konoha's just a kid!! but also if he IS konoha and everything he is seeing are those awful memories then he should know? for peace of mind? maybe? it's... a whole thing. like konoha isn't.... suffering. like obviously all his mental issues are awful but it's not like they will go away just by having context to some stuff. he's still a happy kid. the dan's like ok somehow haruka and ene created a freak of nature. it happens.

like what if they tell him and then all the memories become super clear. why would they wanna do that. most of the memories are total ass and awful. but also konoha's clearly confused and feels so lost. but maybe that's better than him being properly traumatized by remembering everything??

at the end of the day haruka and takane are the parents and they have to decide lollll man they'd be so torn about it. konoha probably throws a line like i just always feel like im forgetting something. THEY'D BREAK DOWN ON EACH OTHER SO BAD AND KONOHA'S LIKE WHYYYY ARE U GUYS CRYINGGGG!?!?! srry haruka and takane for putting u thru the horrors. i think it's funny to do that. congratulations on the marriage and the kid but also cry about it

erm. idk if or how they'd tell him. this is all i can come up with now. bye tune in for next chapter i fucking guess

[blissfulalchemist]

“Your task is not to seek love, but merely to seek and find all the barriers within yourself that you have built against it.”

- Rumi

Thank you to the wonderful and oh so talented @minilev for bringing to life the first face to face meeting of my girl Catlina and @risenlucifer’s Rafael. It came out perfect and I could not be happier! Thank you Kate for creating your boy and helping in creating this piece! 💜 Below the cut is the scene itself from their shared universe.

There was only one location in Hope County that became true neutral ground, and managed to stay that way even after the reaping began. The signs that stood outside the doors were the only indication of where the initial funding came from but nothing else that leant itself to associating itself with Eden’s Gate, just how Catlina wanted it from the start. Her outreach center was created to help all residents of Hope County have their needs met, not recruitment as some assumed. In recent weeks becoming a safe haven for those that didn’t ask to be caught in the crossfire of the holy war. Though Catlina was finding it harder to offer up something as someone kept stealing the wrong trucks. Didn’t matter how many times she tried to make them as distinct as possible from the other ones the deputy was allowed to take from Eden’s Gate he still managed to find a way to hit her trucks now and again. 

Cat was lucky that the truck that brought about her special order had survived, all the items planned to be a gift for the fabled friend of Deputy Wes. It's not that she wanted to be a creep, but sometimes it was hard to not overhear the conversations he and John would have as she waited for him to leave or at least make her presence known. It was nice to just hear someone else’s voice in the house that didn’t seem to spout the same notions as everyone else, so she’d prolong the amount of time they had together. It was during one of the times she’d opted to sneak back into the house that she heard the passing comment and joke about his friend’s complaints of not being able to make any sort of decent meal with the food that was offered in the Whitetails. 

No surprise to her as that was the place hardest to get any kind of supplies, seeing as Jacob took most of it. Her heart went out to Wes’ friend and she had the means, so she compiled what she could based on the conversation Wes and her husband had, leaving it on the doorstep of the deputy a note attached specifying its intended recipient. That was over a week ago and she hadn’t heard anything about it or related to it. She hadn’t put a name with the note, maybe that was the problem, just the location of the outreach center in case they wanted more and Cat held hope that she’d get to meet them, maybe make the first real connection with someone on the other side of this war. 

Each swinging of the door had her looking up, heart racing only to be met with disappointment when it was someone she recognized. “You know you don’t even know what he looks like right,” Lance teased, smirking as he leaned against the wall, arms crossed. 

“Well do you know what he looks like?” She asked, waving to one of the locals that came by weekly, “Because maybe then you can give me a hint or a name?”

“Firstly, Wes could have had a change of friends since I last remembered,” he pushed himself off looking out the window at the cars driving by, “Secondly, if it is still the same guy he was a bit scrawny still last I saw of him.”

She rolled her eyes, “Did you just become a hermit or something at some point? Cause you said the same about the deputy,” Cat moved back behind the counter leaning her elbows against it, “and we both know how he turned out.” 

Lance gave a small laugh looking back at Cat, “You starting to feel jealous?”

Cat narrowed her eyes, “No,” she let out a sigh, ”I just want friends. Or some way to not feel so lonely.” She looked at Lance’s hazel eyes, “Not that you’re not my friend it’s just-.”

“I know. Want people your own age,” Lance’s eyes moved to the person walking through the door, locking onto the holstered handgun, “I was a young man once too.”

Catlina’s eyes followed the patron around the store too until their items were brought up to the counter. She helped him get settled, taking the little money he had to offer before watching him make his way out of the building, leaving her and Lance alone. 

“How late are you wanting to stay today?” Lance asked, stretching out his arms, “I don’t think we have to worry about interrupting anything back at the ranch.” He took his seat in the front corner of the store, hands picking up the latest in his engine projects John had given him, “Besides you have to go to the service in the morning, can’t be up too late.”

She gave a small eye roll, “I just want to make sure I don’t miss him. Maybe he can only come later in the day.” Or maybe he never planned on showing. 

“So a bit after sundown again?”

She nodded, making herself busy with the smaller inventory behind the counter, “I might have to give up after this week though.” She tapped the pen on the table, “I shouldn’t be holding out too much hope. Not like many people trust me nowadays.” She looked up to the sound of a car pulling up to the building, shoulders sagging letting out a breath, It probably wasn’t him. I really need to stop hoping at this point, “Well outside Eden’s Gate at least.”

She rested her forehead against the counter, the sound of the bell announcing the person that just pulled up, their footsteps filling the space of the small shop. Cat didn’t look up as she traced his movement in the building from the sound of his shoes against the old wood alone. There were a few pauses as he seemed to look around, Cat moving to lay her head against her arm, writing out the list of what may be needed soon. 

“Excuse me, ma’am,” the shopper called out in a voice clear and deep, “there are no prices on anything.”

Cat lifted her head, giving a smile glancing his way, “Its because this is a pay what you can center. It can range from zero to full price.” She turned to face him head on, eyes locking with his, her heart stopping a moment before starting to race. He was new and she couldn’t look away from his brown eyes, warm, inviting, and a bit playful. His dark curls falling perfectly framing his face, accented by a neatly kept beard. His clothing, while simple, appeared to be of higher quality than other residents of the county. The dark blue cardigan over his burgundy shirt, and silver necklaces catching in the light, bright, though not enough to outshine his smile. His smile, how assuring it made her feel. All of him….perfect. 

Well that’s just unfair, she thought as her mouth went dry, trying to gain some semblance of composure. Cat cleared her throat, smoothing out her dress hiding the reddening of her cheeks as he walked closer. “Just like that? I could take whatever I wanted,” he asked, Cat nodding in response, “However much I wanted?”

She started to nod again, stopping, “Erm, well within reason. Wouldn’t be really fair if you took all of a supply that was needed by everyone, you know?”

He gave a small nod, “So you run this place based on trust and merit,” he leaned on the counter, Cat taking a step back, “Seems a little bold in a place like this.” She gave a shrug, “Looks like you’re running a bit low though,” he gestured to the store around him.

“I know,” she let out a sigh, “My trucks have been getting snatched up.”

He raised an eyebrow, “Oh?”

“I mean, yes it's bad for me and the center but I can’t blame him for taking them,” she stammered out, “He’s been giving them to those that need the supplies, so in the end it’s serving their purposes. I just wish he’d have thought to ask or target the other trucks.”

“The deputy?” Cat nodded in response, “He’s been taking your trucks?”

“Yeah,” she waved, “but it doesn’t matter if the supplies are serving those that need them.”

“But if he asked, you’d just give them to him,” Cat found herself locked in his gaze once more, They feel so much like his eyes. How’s possible?, “Why do that?”

Cat looked down stuffing the memories back into their box, pushing a lock of hair behind her ear, “It’s the right thing to do. There’s a lot of people willing to fight and defend their homes, but what about the people that didn’t ask to be a part of any of this?” She met his eyes, “I know it's hard to believe but there are people on both sides that just wanted to live in peace. Some just want to worship a faith without the violence and not to mention the locals that never sold their homes but couldn’t afford the means to leave. A sort of stubborn pride in its own right.” Cat looked around the center, smiling, “This place is for them. It's for anyone really, I fight hard to keep this place a sanctuary for anyone that needs it, no matter where they come from.” She met his eyes rolling her shoulders back, nothing that his posture had never changed, “Everyone is worth saving and helping when in need.” 

His face unreadable he studied her, standing straighter, “Guess what they say about you and this place is true,” Cat tilted her head, brow furrowing, “The signs though,” he jerked a thumb to the front of the building, “well that kind of makes it hard to believe.”

Her shoulders sagged, “I know,” rolling her eyes letting out a breath, “It was either those or some audio played on the speakers. I’m contractually obligated to have one or the other.” He laughed, startling her before she felt herself loosen up, laughing along with him, “You think I’m kidding?”

“Yeah I do a bit,” she smirked, pulling out the copy of her outreach center contract with John, dropping it in front of him. His laughter stopping, the smile remaining as he looked it over, “Never mind, guess I was wrong,” he flipped through the pages, ��Even got it notarized I see.”

“Mhm,” he passed the papers back to her, “I had to make it as official as possible. If I’ve learned anything it's that the best way to beat a lawyer is using their own tricks against them.”

“Clever,” he gave a light bang of his hand against the wood of the counter, “So tell me, what would one owe for these items,” he pulled out a slip of paper, “They got left with a friend of mine and I want to make sure I’m not in debt.”

Cat’s eyes went wide as she looked over the list, each item one that she left on Deputy Wes’ doorstep. It’s him. It’s really him. He came by and I….feel unprepared. Her hands started to shake, trying to refocus her brain on what was happening. “Oh right uhm, noth-nothing,” her words tumbled out, “Nothing. First one is uhm, first one’s free.”

“What if I want to give a little something for it,” he had his wallet out, “It is a pay what you can center as you said.”

“I- I uh, I did. I said that,” she cleared her throat, “Besides the point. I think I heard mention that it was a gift and you don’t pay for gifts, that’s just rude.”

“Then a donation?” He placed a few bills in her hands, Cat pushing them back over into his, electricity coursing through her with each touch, shaking her head. He was so easy to talk to, why does this feel so normal and so scary? Am I dreaming it? Probably. “We’re not getting anywhere with this are we,” he laughed, Did he just have to be so charming? He has to be this way with everyone.

“No. It’s because I insist,” she took a deep breath, “It was a gift. You don’t owe me anything.” Cat snapped her jaw closed, wincing at revealing herself to be the gift giver. 

He stopped, “So it was you? You’re the one that gave me the basket.” Cat’s cheeks burned, nodding slowly, “You didn’t leave a name on the note. Why is that?”

“I-,” Cat stopped, she didn’t really have much of an answer, “Names are complicated and besides I didn’t need to be thanked for doing something nice.”

“Well I’m going to thank you,” he held his hand out to her, Cat taking it gingerly, “You made my meals feel decent for once.”

“Oh did you use everything already,” her hand shaking his still, “I can get some more on the list for you, for next time you come around.”

He shook his head, “No I’m okay for now. I will, however, keep you in mind when I want to indulge.” He let go of her hand humming in thought, “You don’t get a lot of people from the Whitetails do you?”

She shook her head, “No, that seems to be the hardest place to make a dent in anything getting up there. And if I’m being honest I think people are scared to leave their homes.”

“I tend to do a bit of work up there, maybe I can help and be a sort of liaison. If you’d like,” her heart fluttered at the idea of seeing him more and talking to him and working with him. Just the idea of him.

“I assume you and the militia up there will help in distribution,” he gave a curt nod, Cat looking at Lance who just gave a shrug in return, “Only if you promise that it just be you guys giving it out, that it’s done fairly, and maybe put the word out to some of the locals that this really is a place they won’t be harmed.” She took a breath, her rambling stopping before she could make it worse.

“Sounds like we’re making a tentative partnership,” he smirked, some curls falling out of place, “Should I get the local public notary?”

Cat laughed, shaking her head as she looked down to the old wood, “No. I think we can settle this on our own….for now at least.” She stood straighter, holding her hand out to him, “So what do you say mister….?”

“Rafael,” he clasped his hand around hers, “or Raf as some people call me.”

“Raf,” she repeated, “Unique name nowadays.”

He nodded, giving her a pointed look, “And what shall I call you, Mrs. Seed?”

Catlina’s face turned in disgust, “Anything but that really.”

“Well I can certainly call you Mary if you like,” he smirked, “though something tells me you don’t like that name either.”

“It’s not the worst name out there,” she mumbled picking at the wood, “It’s just-.” How does he feel so easy to talk to?, she thought looking over at Lance. He gave a slight shake of his head, “You know why don’t I let you just decide what to call me.” Cat gave Lance a small shrug, “I don’t think you’ll give me something I’ll hate to be called,” Raf’s dark eyes regarded her, “Just don’t use my height as a nickname please if you decide to go a nickname route. That’s my only rule.”

Raf chuckled, “Might need a little time to come up with that. For now, why don’t I just call you,” she braced herself at his pause regretting his offer to just call her Mary, “conejito.”

Cat blinked back in surprise, “Conejito,” she repeated the word sounding familiar. The recollections she could muster never put the word in a bad light, many in her family always calling others by that name with affection, even though she never really bothered to ever ask what it meant. And she wasn’t going to start now. It sounded sweet and the flutter in her chest brought about the feeling of normal she’d been missing, or the flutter came from the way the evening sun hit his eyes just so, paired with the smile he gave. “It’s acceptable for a temporary name Rafael,” Catlina returned his smile, cheeks burning. Her heart thumped in her chest only managing to focus on his eyes, she looked away clearing her throat, “So, uhm, when will I see you again to discuss more details of our partnership?”

“Few days,” his eyes glanced outside the window, “I have to talk to some people up there, see what they need and want from this partnership.” 

“Oh,” Cat’s heart fell, “I mean, well that makes sense. I should uhm, well I should prepare and look into what I can offer, so we can get to a middle ground,” she stammered, stopping herself as she twisted the tips of her fingers. 

“That sounds like a good plan. How late are you normally open?”

“I’m pretty flexible,” she said, Lance giving a snort, “Well uhm, I mean whenever you need me I can be there however you need me,” Cat shut her eyes letting out a breath, Raf laughing softly, “Well you get what I mean.”

“I do, Conejito, I do,” Raf shook his head, running a hand through his hair, “I’ll try to come later in the day, but I’ll try to give you a bit of a warning.”

“Yeah, yeah. That works,” Cat bounced on her toes, “I’m sure you have to be uh going I assume. Do you need a ride? Cause we can give you one?”

He pointed to the car still parked outside the building, “I brought my own ride,” Cat gave a slow nod, “Thank you for the offer though.” Raf took a few steps back, raising his hand, waving, “I’ll see you in a few days, Conejito.” 

Cat waved back, “See you.” She watched as he made his way out of the building and into the car, looking back inside of the building once it was out of sight. 

Cat groaned, lying her head against the counter, “Not as scrawny anymore,” Lance said standing from his chair, “Guess you were right.”

Cat looked up, narrowing her eyes, “That your way of telling me I told you so?”

Lance smiled, “No,” he chuckled before his face grew serious, “You should be careful though.”

“What do you mean?” Cat asked, raising a brow.

“He’s not just the deputy’s friend,” Lance moved locking up the windows, “He’s pretty well known in the mountains, call him the Saint.” Cat stood straighter, crossing her arms as she looked at the ground, “He’s got a target on his back, pretty big one if I’m not mistaken. Might be a little dangerous to work too close to him.” 

“I have the sway to keep this place and my work in the middle, not on either side.” 

Lance hummed, “Hm, I just wouldn’t count on that staying for very long. Just in case.” He turned to her, holding his hand out for the keys as Cat tossed them his way, “Don’t want to see you get hurt, is all.” 

“I won’t be. I got you here,” Cat moved to stand next to him, bumping his arm, “and he seems trustworthy enough.” Lance put an arm around her, “Who knows this might be the best thing for us. We could do more good around here, get this whole war ended sooner.”

“Get you out sooner,” Lance whispered, “I’ll look into him more see where he stands on things. Just to be on the safe side.” He rubbed her arm, patting it as he moved to lock the front door, “Let’s get back to the ranch shall we?” 

Cat nodded, grabbing her sweater, “Yeah, let’s go. I have to distract myself anyway.”

“Not gonna be able to get his eyes out of your mind for awhile are ya?” Lance laughed, leading them to the car, Cat giving him a shove, “Hey you were the one that was kind of obvious in your drooling over him.”

Cat rolled her eyes, “You were real popular with Sage when she was in high school, weren’t you?” Lance laughed in response as the two pulled out onto the road to drive them back. He was right, and that didn’t make it any less appealing to Cat to want to get to know Raf and hopefully become close to him. No matter how their relationship played out, part of her just knew she wanted him in her life and that nothing was going to be the same now.

[caracalfeather]

WARNING- Cats and Birds is a mob AU fanfiction of the Arcana game, and is not meant for young audiences and is not meant to offend anyone. Some writing choices were made so characters are out of their canon way of acting and thinking. Please do not be offended by character choices made by the authors and content creators, this story was made for fun and in the way we wanted it to be. The story was not hijacked by any of the authors to make any ships or characters overshadow any other. All content contained in this story has been agreed upon and accepted by all parties in it’s creation.

TW- Cats and Birds contains scenes that may not be suitable with some readers, including themes of violence, smoking/drug use, sex, cursing and various other strong themes. Special warnings for scenes will be posted with chapters. Proceed with caution and Reader’s discretion is advised.

5

The barks didn't seem to stop until dawn, when Rose stirred next to him, smiling against his skin “mmm I love waking up next to you…. All mine…” She whispered. She hadn't heard him that night.

Julian was OUT, once the barking stopped his mind cleared and SHE left his mind. He snored softly in his sleep. His mind thankful to finally have rest for the night.

Rose giggled and got up, throwing on one of his shirts and went downstairs to grab coffee. She looked happier after that night, her men smiling at the sight of her peace, even teasing her a little bit in good nature.

Julian finally left Rose’s room in the afternoon, groggy. But he still knew what he had to do. With Rose’s lighter in hand he shuffled back to his room in a tired stupor. He grabbed the magazine and went outside. It was time to put an end to this.

Rose wandered the halls, holding a coffee for Julian “Ilya? Honey are you awake?” She looked around, glancing in his room “Darling, I have coffee.”

Jumping at the sound of her voice Julian dropped the magazine and kicked it under his bed. Hoping Rose didn’t notice. “Ah! Rose!!...Coffee?? Yes! Thank you.”

She cocked an eyebrow and walked in “Sorry did i interrupt something?” She saw her lighter and smirked “Are you smoking a blunt without me again?” she handed him the coffee cup.

“No! I was just…..erm...burning...some evidence! From an earlier mission!” He wove his lie quickly, sweat rolling down his eyepatch. “I..i should’ve asked to borrow it.”

Rose kissed his cheek and smiled “I don't remember bringing evidence home. I must've missed it.” She looked around the room and giggled “You really need to clean in here.” She bent down to grab a dirty shirt by the bed.

“Ah haha…..yeah…” he scratched his neck, “Well...you know me…”

“Gods even under the bed is gross.” She groaned “Old papers, clothes, books, geeze Ilya maybe you need to spend a day with a broom.” She laughed and stood, pecking his lips

“You’re absolutely right! I’ll get right on it!!” He gave a nervous laugh, kneeling down. She was right….it was a bit of a pigsty from this angle.

“Make sure you bring my lighter back to me later.” She chuckled “I'll be out for a bit at a meeting.” She wrapped her arms around his neck and smiled “Maybe later we can clean this room and have some fun?”

“Absolutely!” He smirked, his eyes darting underneath his bed. She hadn’t seen it...thank god.

“Also, throw away those magazines under the bed. I think they're old porn mags.” She pecked his cheek and headed out.

As soon as she left he let out a sigh of relief, reaching under the bed to grab the magazine. “I suppose it's time to say goodbye.”

He left the room and went out into the lot, gasoline in hand. Julian took a deep breath and started the fire, pouring a bit of the gas into an empty pot. He held the magazine out with shaking hands, and for the first time in years he opened it to the dog eared article.

There she was

And in the corner, in gold sharpie. Her autograph.

Ilya ran his thumb over her signature, looking over at the blazing pot. His mind said yes, but his heart said no.

Plume stepped out the door, pulling on a jacket. He noticed ilya and cocked an eyebrow, chuckling “What are you doing out here jules?” He began to walk over

Julian yelped and on instinct he tore her signed picture from the booklet and threw the rest in the fire, shoving the glossy paper into his pocket. “Just….destroying evidence from an earlier mission.”

“You know we do that off sight.” He sighed and shrugged “Oh Well. Anyway I'm heading out, So are the boys. It’s a free day today.”

“Ah, how lucky you are. I’m going to spend my day cleaning..my room.” He gestured towards the flaming pot, “as you can see..I’m well off.”

“Just don't burn everything okay?” Plume teased, giving him a nod as he left.

Once the fire was out Julian picked up his mess and returned to his room. He fell onto his bed and pulled out the now wrinkled picture from his pocket. Anger boiled in his blood as he stared into the eyes he used to love.

“WHY ARE YOU PLAGUING ME IN THIS WAY!??!!?” He shouted at the paper, shaking it above his head. “ WHY CAN’T I LET YOU GO!?!?! MY STAR!!! YOU ARE A BITCH YOU KNOW THAT?! IT’S NOT ENOUGH THAT I WAS SHOT FOR YOU BUT YOUR GHOST HAS TO HAUNT ME AS I AM MOVED ON AND WELL IN ANOTHER RELATIONSHIP?!?!”

Tears fell from his eyes as he threw the photo, it drifted into a corner and he buried his face into his pillow until he cried himself to sleep.

[leggomylino]

Emin | yandere!artist!chenle

Genre: yandere, a bit of fluff, angst, a bit of comedy (just to relieve some tension)

Pairing: yandere!artist!chenle x baroness!reader

Word count: ~10.3k

Warning(s): deep angst, dark thoughts, violence, possible character death

Song: Leia by Yuyoyuppe (feat. Megurine Luka; here’s a really pretty piano arrangement!: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=F-Ooh0e-fvk c: )

A/N: Requests are open! | Masterlist in bio!! | thanks so much for reading and I hope you enjoy it!!! <3 | P.s....I wanted to portray Chenle as more of a soft/confused yandere?? Still possessive but more...respectful? Innocent? I think that’s the word(s) I’m looking for? Like he’s really unsure how to handle it? Idk hopefully you’ll get what I was going for… ^^”

~

[2:42 pm]

You were his safety. His peace. And that’s why he refused to let you go.

You were a rainbow, and they were all colorblind. But not him. Never him; to him, you were all the colors of the spectrum and more, so much more, so much more that he simply couldn’t contain it all in his fragile, broken body.

So he painted. That’s how he’d gotten his start as an artist.

He painted religiously. Each day was something new, something vibrant, something alive, bursting with color and warmth and emotion; so many emotions. Some days were painful; others were like a breath of fresh air. But he didn’t care if it hurt. He didn’t mind that it was slowly consuming his sanity, filling up every square inch of canvas in his mind. Like a moth to a flame, he’d do it all over in a heartbeat. Like a sailor to a siren at sea, he’d keep coming back for more, over and over and over again.

And on days he’d lost sight of that focus, on nights he couldn’t sleep, his body wracked with pain from the debilitating illness that the clerics still had yet to find a cure for, he’d draw the person he wished he could be.

He was strong, and handsome, and focused. He wasn’t sick; he was healthy, and determined and dedicated and sophisticated. He was loyal and brave and loving and so charismatic, so charming, there was no way you couldn’t notice him. He was your world; just like you were his.

Even if it wasn’t real. Even if he had to paint it himself.

It was all he wanted. It was all he had.

And for now, it was enough.

“Chenle~ I’m heading out now!”

Chenle blinked to life, waking himself back into reality. Reluctantly.

He smiled to the woman walking into the room, her wine red dress skirts swaying with each step she took towards her precious baby boy. Her one and only son, now that his older brother had gone off to enlist in the war effort.

“Okay, Mom.”

She sighed, resting a hand on her wrinkled cheek as she examined his most recent masterpiece. He was painting that girl; again. “Are you sure you’re going to be alright by yourself? Don’t forget you have that meeting with the Duchess today at five p.m.”

He sighed back as she ran her free hand through his messy orange hair, stained that way from all the many late nights painting to his heart's content. The room was never clean when he was hit with inspiration, and nothing was spared; not even his hair. His fingers were often so blue, the rivets embedded in murky varnish, the other villagers thought they were broken.

...That wasn’t far from the truth, but it was still a misconception all the same.

“I know. I’ll be fine. Take care on your trip.”

His mother smiled once more, placing a gentle kiss upon his forehead. “I will, dear. You take care of yourself as well. Don’t stay up too late with...erm…”

“Emin.” He smiled much more brightly. “Her name is Emin.”

“...Yes...Emin.” She frowned, her shoulders sagging a bit. This wasn’t the first time he’d locked himself into his own false realities...he’d be gone for at least a few days.

But that was fine. He may not have much longer to live anyway; it was the least she could do but to play along with his delusional fantasies.

“Just remember to get yourself cleaned up before you present yourself at the palace. And don’t be late!”

“I won’t. Goodbye, Mother.”

“Goodbye, sweetheart.”

Cha-chunk.

“......”

The moment she’d left the small cottage, a sigh of relief escaped him, and he tilted his head back to face the sky...or rather, the low-hanging splintering wood ceilings.

All he wanted to do was paint and get lost in you. But he’d better start getting ready.

✦

He was scrubbing away the residue of last night’s oil pastels from beneath his fingernails when the image of you popped up in the window through the small broken looking glass of the washroom. He was sure he must be imagining things; after all, the visions of you had been quite strong lately.

Except this time he wasn’t hallucinating. It really was you.

“Chenle!”

“GAH!”

He flinched, dropping the small scrub brush in a state of panic, then whirled around to see you.

Your bright (e/c) eyes. Those rosy cheeks. That gorgeous hair.

He desperately wanted to melt into it, to mix his palette with yours. But he feared the result would be muddy...an unwanted color. He couldn’t risk tainting such beauty with his filth. “E-Emin...I mean, (y/n)...” Gosh, even just saying your name on his tongue was an indescribable joy. “(Y/n)...what are you doing here?”

You crinkled your nose the way you did when you knew something wasn’t right, and Chenle beamed, taking in your every small act of expression. “First tell me who on Earth this Emin fellow is. Do they bear such resemblance to me?”

“...” He nodded after a moment, sheepishly trying to hide the heat rising to his cheeks, but failed miserably. “It’s the name of my newest painting--��

“Oh my gosh!” You lit up brighter than the festival lights during the Fall Harvest, your head bobbing up and down giddily from the small space of a window. “You’re done already?! I wanna see I wanna see I wanna see! ...Please?”

You gave him your greatest puppy pout, the one he couldn’t resist. But you didn’t have to. Because eventually he would have caved anyway.

He picked up the brush off the ground, wishing he would have had more time to make himself presentable for you. Even if the two of you had been friends for a few years now, he still wanted to look his best for you...oh, but who was he kidding, really? It’s not like someone of your stature, the Baroness of Adderdale, would ever fall for a paint-stained dirt-scratcher like him...especially not one that probably only had a few months left to live. “Of course. I’ll open the door for you.”

“Oh, no, that’s okay! I know you have a big meeting with Duchess Rowena soon, I’ll just--”

“Nonsense. You’re way more important.”

The words were out there before he could take them back. But he wouldn’t have wanted to anyway, because it was nothing short of the truth. “Uh…” You nodded back to him, your face half-swallowed by the high-standing square hole in the wall, your eyes peeking just over the edge now as you climbed down from the crates you’d been standing on. “Okay, then. I’ll see you in a minute.”

Chenle opened the door for you not but a minute later, right on schedule, and you smiled now that you were able to see him up close.

There was a smear of green paint on his cheek. You pulled out a handkerchief from your dress pocket, fanning it open in one quick flick of the wrist and tenderly reached up to wipe his face clean.

You almost suspected that you missed a few spots from how red his face turned, his whole body tensing, eyes barely peeking out shyly behind closed lids. He’d always been such a bashful, apprehensive young man. But that was one of the many things you loved about him.

If only he knew. Maybe things could have gone differently than how they eventually would come to play out.

You’d just starting to retract your gesture when he stopped you, taking your hand gently in his and holding it against his cheek. Nuzzling his face against the silk fabric of your glove.

You laughed. “What are you, a cat?”

He murmured back a soft reply. “I wish I were, sometimes...maybe then I could focus on the things I really care about.”

This made you frown. “Like what?”

“Like...painting, and watching the sea reach out to the sky, and taking naps all day, and...you.”

“Chenle…”

“Hm?”

“How would you paint? You wouldn’t have thumbs.”

He gave you a playful smirk. “No, but it’d have a tail. I’d never have use for another brush again.”

“How would you sign your work?”

He held up his hand. “Paw print.”

“How is that any different from any old stray cat off the street?”

“Hmm…” He gave it some serious thought, making you smile from ear to ear. “...Oh!” He released your hand, resting a fist in his open palm in an action stating he’d thought of something. “...Two paw prints?”

“Chenle!” You busted out laughing, and it’s got to be one of the most blessed sounds he’d ever had the pleasure, no, the honor of being alive to hear; he felt faint upon hearing it, yet stronger all the same. It’s the sound that gave him strength and security when he needed it most, on nights when he thought the sickness that plagued his brittle bones really would deliver his soul to Heaven. The moment he remembered your voice...even if it was all in his feeble mind...all was well again.

“Are you going to invite me inside? It’s mighty hot out here in the sun.”

“Oh!” He hurriedly stepped aside, taking your hand to help you up the small step into the tiny aged cottage that had to be at least sixty years old. “Sorry…”

“Don’t apologize. I’m used to you spacing out in the middle of a conversation by now.” You poked his nose, sending a charming smile his way that may as well have taken his heart had he not already given it to you. “I think it’s cute.”

The wink you sent him was the nail in the coffin.

“Ahh!” Your eyes caught sight of his studio set up in the far left corner of the room, and you lifted your skirts to dash your heel-clad feet across the splintering floorboards. The moment you got there your hands gripped the drape over the center canvas, but you remembered last minute it’s probably polite to ask first, even if it was a dear friend of yours.

Normally Chenle would have murdered anyone who dared to disturb his art without permission; but you were the lone exception. He could never bring himself to hurt you. “Go ahead.”

Excitedly you casted the veil away, and when your eyes met the girl in the painting you froze.

Because she was you. You were looking at a reflection of yourself.

Except you were way more beautiful than you ever imagined you could be. Why didn’t you look this good in real life?!

“Chenle...it’s…”

“Do you like it?” His eyes were full of excitement and adoration as he gazed upon the you in the painting. “Her name is Emin.”

“Emin…” You repeated the name like a foreign word. “...She…”

You paused for a considerable amount of time, just staring curiously at the work of art. Of course this wasn’t you; it was too beautiful to be. How could you be so vain as to think…?

You sighed, small and subtle beneath your breath. “...She’s beautiful.”

“Just like you.”

“Wh-What?”

When your eyes turned away from the fantasy version of you, they met the artist responsible, staring at you as if it was you who hung the moon in the sky each night. “She looks just like you. Beautiful.”

You couldn’t help the warm feeling spreading over your cheeks; you casted your gaze away before Chenle too could notice.

It was too late, of course, because he already had. It made him so happy to see you flustered and flattered so; he’d have to add it to his list of future Emin’s.

You were his after all.

✦

At precisely four o’clock you left Chenle to finish getting ready, though he was sad to see you go. It was a vision he never wished to see; you disappearing out of sight. What if he never saw you again…? You were always so busy with your responsibilities as Baroness of the state. And it was all his fault.

He shouldn’t have asked to paint your portrait out in the grassy fields beyond town square. Maybe then you wouldn’t have been discovered by those royal administrators, who were so captivated by your charming appearance (as they should have been) that they scooped you up and swept you off to the palace to be trained, paying off your family to buy you as their newest errand girl. Because that’s basically what you were in your role of Baroness; the only difference was that they actually fed and clothed and educated you properly in the art of sophistication and foreign affairs and how to be a proper lady.

It made him sick how they ran you ragged. Sicker than he already felt with this accursed illness he was born with.

Which is why he hadn’t hesitated to pay off a young chef-in-training to poison the roast duck going to the administrator’s office one evening whilst sneaking around the back gardens. Your life became a bit easier after that, and the two of you at least had more time to see each other...until they hired another administrator.

But it was alright. The young man was fresh off the boat from vocation school. He’d hired some local bandits to give the man a good scare, and ever since that day you’d had Tuesday afternoons and Saturday evenings free. Sundays after spiritual services were always a given, thank Heaven.

It was now four-thirty. He’d carefully gathered his materials and was on his way to the palace, bag in hand. He wore his best suit: a brown sewn vest over a cream-colored button-up shirt and long, plain-colored trousers. His orange hair was groomed to look as good as it would ever be.

He had to get this job. It was for himself, for his mother; with his brother out of the house, they had scarcely been able to pay the bills, and the new royal tax document was expected to be passed within the next coming weeks. He was the only one left to take care of her.

And then there was you. He would have done anything for you. If he did manage to land this position, he’d be able to see you more often; even if it was just a few fleeting glimpses from a studio window.

By the time he made it onto the palace grounds, chefs and gardeners scurried about in preparation for a celebratory occasion of some sort. He wondered what it could be…

Until a flyer smacked him right in the face, temporarily blinding him.

Startled, he took a few steps back, ripping the inked parchment away from his face. His eyes scanned the page curiously.

𝑾𝒆 𝒂𝒓𝒆 𝒑𝒍𝒆𝒂𝒔𝒆𝒅 𝒕𝒐 𝒂𝒏𝒏𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒄𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒓𝒐𝒚𝒂𝒍 𝒐𝒄𝒄𝒂𝒔𝒊𝒐𝒏 𝒊𝒏 𝒄𝒆𝒍𝒆𝒃𝒓𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏 𝒐𝒇 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒂𝒓𝒓𝒊𝒗𝒂𝒍 𝒐𝒇 𝑷𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒄𝒆 𝑱𝒂𝒆𝒎𝒊𝒏 𝒐𝒇 𝑵𝒐𝒓𝒘𝒊𝒄𝒉, 𝒘𝒉𝒐 𝒊𝒔 𝒕𝒐 𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒓𝒚 𝑽𝒊𝒔𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕𝒆𝒔𝒔 𝑵𝒊𝒏𝒂 𝒐𝒇 𝑨𝒅𝒅𝒆𝒓𝒅𝒂𝒍𝒆 𝒊𝒏 𝒄𝒐𝒎𝒎𝒆𝒏𝒄𝒆𝒎𝒆𝒏𝒕 𝒐𝒇 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒑𝒆𝒂𝒄𝒆 𝒃𝒆𝒕𝒘𝒆𝒆𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒕𝒘𝒐 𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒏𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒔

Chenle scoffed. Like he cared about the affairs of the royal elite or the country...

None of that mattered unless it involved you.

✦

“So,” Duchess Rowena Varner, next in line for the royal throne, declared. “You must be Chenle...Zhong, is it? Zhong Chenle?”

The said boy grinned politely from before her throne of sorts. A placeholder until she got her greedy hands on the real thing. “Yes, madam.”

“You shall address her as My Lady!” a royal guard barked.

The Duchess shook her head, chuckling a bit as she waved him off. “Now, now, it’s quite alright. Please, call me whatever you like. And might I say, what a handsome young boy you are!” She stood and paced over to the works of art displayed on silver easels. Real silver. Just an ounce of that would be enough to pay the house bills for an entire month, with a bit left to spare for a royal feast. “Quite talented as well. I reviewed your work the other day.” She smiled, stopping beside his most recent portrait of you: Emin No. 54. His most brilliant work of art to date. “This portrait titled “Emin” is especially beautiful.”

He remained smiling in return, pride swelling in his chest. “Yes, I think so as well.”

Her next question caught him off guard.

“Is she by chance, a lover of yours?”

He froze. His face grew hot; hotter than the sun, it had to be. The Duchess tittered, finding amusement at seeing a young boy turn so red.

“So she is, then? That’s quite sweet. I’m happy for you, I am.”

“...N-Not...Not exactly…”

“Oh, come now. It’s alright. But you know…” she pondered, reexamining the painting. “She looks rather familiar...like I’ve seen her somewhere before…”

“I think it’s ugly.”

Duchess Rowena gasped, and all eyes quickly turned to her daughter, the royal Viscountess.

“Nina!!” The Duchess scolded. “That’s very impolite! Apologize this instant. That’s not how a lady should speak.”

Nina huffed, tossing a long pigtail over her shoulder. “Well it’s true. Her nose is too big. And the eyes sort of creep me out. I’d be turning tail and running if I saw this girl in my dreams or out on the streets. More like my nightmares…”

The Duchess’ face was far worse than a frown, and she snapped her fan shut to emphasize her anger and disappointment, scowling down at her daughter’s abhorred behavior. “Oh, Nina…!” She turned her gaze down to the ridiculed artist with sorrow in her eyes. “I’m so sorry for my daughter. I don’t know what’s gotten into her. She’s usually very sweet and polite, I assure you.”

“......” Chenle didn’t know what to say. All he knew in that moment was that he couldn’t stop his hands from trembling, and it felt like he’d been stabbed in the heart-- no, that someone had stabbed Emin in the heart.

You. His Emin. The only thing he loved more than anything else in this world. More than his mother, or his brother, or his art supplies, or the beauty he found in every little thing this world has to offer…

The only reason he found such beauty was because of you. He saw you in everything. You were everywhere to him.

Something foreign and unabashed was painting a dark portrait on his insides…

And that portrait was titled The Death of Nina Varner.

✦

He waited just after dusk for the Viscountess to appear on her balcony for her ritual spoiled stargazing event. Each night she would wander out in a silk nightgown onto the balcony outside her room, tossing grapes and cheese and whatever late night snack she could get her snot-nosed hands on into that vexatious piehole of hers, all while shouting orders at the pitiful maids who were stuck with her that evening to braid her hair or rearrange the furniture or stop breathing so heavily and get her some more wine.

Chenle almost felt bad for them. Almost.

But he was much too busy kindling the fires of hatred he had for the witch who dared to insult his precious Emin.

He waited five swift breaths for the maids to take their temporary leave, then made his strike.

It was swift. Quick. A cursory stab to the heart. But it did the trick all the same; she hadn’t even much time to scream in terror as her body slumped to the marble stone floor, lifeless and in vain with a look of pure trepidation on her face.

It scared him how much joy and excitement it brought him to see her that way. But he didn't have time to admire his crafty work; in one rapid, fluent motion, he scampered off down the secret passage he’d bought the blueprints for at the Black Market in the shady part of town, a harsh coughing fit echoing down the narrow hall as he fled.

✦

The next day was meant to be spent orchestrating the Viscountess’s wedding as well as the arrival of Prince Jaemin. Which is why you were surprised to find that instead, that responsibility was no longer yours...and a new one was being passed down to you; or rather, promoted up to you.

“She what?!” you cried, horror-stricken in face. You could only imagine what the Duchess’s face must have looked like, to find her daughter’s dead body on the balcony floor. The maids almost had it worse, being the ones to discover the horrific display.

Even now you could hear Rowena’s cries and sobs as she mourned the murder of her only daughter. It broke your heart; the Duchess was such a sweet lady...a little greedy, yes, but still very kind. And sure, you never much cared for Nina. Everyone knew what an impish hellion she was, despite her mother insisting she was a good person...yet...you’d never once wished to see her drop dead.

...Okay, perhaps once, when she had shoved you into a closet and claimed that it was you who started a fire in the kitchen during a baking lesson, you did. But you hadn’t meant it literally…!

And now here you were, set to be crowned the new title of Viscountess. Set to be wed for the sake of the country to some prince whose name you scarcely remembered.

It was all too much. So sudden. So soon. You didn’t know if you could take it...you were barely managing to process it all after only half a cup of coffee; everything was passing you by the narrowest of margins.

You needed to talk to someone. Someone not on the inside. Someone you could trust. So the moment the royal guard who had delivered the news left your quarters, you ran off to find the one person you could think of, the first one to come to mind: Chenle.

He was waiting for you in the front garden, just as you’d ask a young pageboy to summon him there. His face was a desolate wasteland as it looked into yours. So he must have heard...news did travel fast.

“Chenle...I…” you sighed dejectedly. “I don’t know what to say. I never wanted this, I had no say, I promise I--”

“Don’t say anything.”

His eyes were a blazing fire when you gazed back up into them. It made you gulp nervously. “Wh-What do you mea--”

“Shhh...“

He was smiling then. Smiling...how could he smile at a time like this?

“I worked everything out. You don’t have to go to the funeral.”

“...What?”

“The funeral. For the late Viscountess. You don’t have to go, I thought of a way out of it...so we can spend time together instead.”

You stared at him, dumbfounded. So he really didn’t know, then…? “I’m sorry? Chenle--”

“Hush now, it’s going to be alright. I doubt anyone’s going to show up anyway.”

You gasped at that harsh remark. “Chenle! That’s a horrible thing to say! Even if she was a brat, she wasn’t...she didn’t deserve to…”

“Yes she did.”

...Your eyes snapped back to meet his, again, and this time they were devoid of any life. Vacant of all color.

He was serious. He really meant it.

You took a step back, suddenly feeling ill at ease and uncomfortable with the heavy change in atmosphere. “...How...How can you say that? How…”

The boy you thought you once knew shrugged, gazing off to the side nonchalantly. “Because...she insulted something that belongs to me.”

“That’s no reason to--!”

“She insulted you.”

The air left your lungs for a second. The pressure around you was rising. Did...Did he just say…?

Scowling, you furrowed your brow, crossing your arms before you to boot. “I-I’m not yours, Chenle. I don’t belong to you, or to anyone but the State of Adderdale...and, pretty soon, the Kingdom of Norwich…”

You felt your anger fleeing from you as feelings of anguish and anxiety rushed to take its place, leaving a hollow sensation of misery in its wake.

And it wasn’t just you. Chenle was feeling it as well, his face drooping until it sagged in an expression of crestfallen disbelief.

“What...What do you mean?” he asked. His whole attitude had suddenly changed in no less than a millisecond.

You glared back at him in regret that you had to be the one to tell him; but it was best coming from you. “With Nina gone, I’ve been recently appointed as the new Viscountess. And, furthermore…” You swallowed again, wishing you could take the words down as well. “...I am to marry the Prince of Norwich, in her place. I’m sorry, Chenle…” You sighed for the millionth time. “There’s nothing I can do. I have no say in any of this.”

You didn’t want to look at him in that moment, to see the sadness written all over his face. But you did. Because you had to be strong; especially if you’re going to be taking over as head Viscountess (though not for long...).

Chenle appeared as if he wasn’t feeling anything. Or maybe it’s that he didn’t know what to feel. In reality, he was absolutely, undeniably, without a doubt...melancholy. Hopeless. Lost. Completely despondent.

The same pageboy poked his head around the corner just then, shyly calling your name. You were being summoned to speak with the Queen about wedding invitations, and what kind of wine you would like served with the celebratory dinner.

There were no words that could form what you wished to express to your only real friend in that moment. So instead you said what it is you’d normally say after parting ways, had it been a regular, everyday encounter; and not the last.

“Goodbye, Chenle…”

And then you were gone. His worst nightmares coming true, seeing you vanish from sight.

He looked to the paintbrush in his hand. Broken just like his body. Just like his heart. He squeezed it tightly, as tightly as his frail bones would let him. Tighter, tighter, as if he could squeeze the entire past three minutes out of existence. Erasing all the words that were said, and starting over on a clean, blank canvas. But it didn’t work out that way; that’s not how life worked.

So instead he shut his eyes tightly, envisioning his happy place. The world where the two of you were always smiling, always laughing, always together, always, always…

...It was all his fault. Again. He was to blame for all of it; he was the reason you were rapidly fading from his life. His insecure actions had led to his own downfall.

He sighed, the breath fleeting like a dream deferred.

It was no longer enough.

✦

Three whole days. Three whole days he laid there, his body writhing in pain and agony at the dull ache that seeped through his bones, violent coughs rattling his lungs and rib cage. His throat was sore, his eyes dehydrated from leaking out all the water left in his body. It was painful, certainly, but...it was nothing compared to the apparent horror blatantly staring him in the face  that soon, very soon, you would be gone. For good. Forever. And he’d never see you again...only in his dreams, were he lucky enough to obtain them.

A flyer drifted in from the window, once again bringing itself to cover his tear-stained face.

𝑽𝒊𝒔𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕𝒆𝒔𝒔 (𝒀/𝒏) 𝒐𝒇 𝑨𝒅𝒅𝒆𝒓𝒅𝒂𝒍𝒆 𝒕𝒐 𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒓𝒚 𝑷𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒄𝒆 𝑱𝒂𝒆𝒎𝒊𝒏 𝒐𝒇 𝑵𝒐𝒓𝒘𝒊𝒄𝒉 𝒔𝒉𝒐𝒓𝒕𝒍𝒚 𝒂𝒇𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝒂𝒓𝒓𝒊𝒗𝒂𝒍 // 𝑽𝒊𝒔𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕𝒆𝒔𝒔 (𝒀/𝒏) 𝒕𝒐 𝒃𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒏𝒆𝒘 𝑷𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒄𝒆𝒔𝒔-𝒄𝒐𝒏𝒔𝒐𝒓𝒕

A literal slap in the face. His hands shook violently as he tore the sheet into bite-sized pieces, seething with rage and despair that did nothing to help his coughing fit and overall health.

He turned his head to stare at his latest masterpiece, feeling color draining from the world around him, his walls crumbling and caving in.

You were no longer his Emin. You were no longer his.

He felt like he was losing his mind. “But...she’s mine,” he mumbled, reaching out a shaking hand to the you of his dreams. The one he stayed up for three days straight painting with all his heart and mind and soul, pouring out every last ounce of passion from his expiring fingertips stained forever blue, as was the life of an aspiring, tormented artist. “Emin is mine...she’s mine, she’s mine, she’s MINE!!”

In a flash of anger he knocked over a case of brush pens, then a few books, then his entire work desk. He began throwing canvases out the window, their blank slates an abhorred reminder mocking the bleak future he had to look forward to: a future without you.

“Emin...she’s...she...” Tears pooled in the corners of his eyes, where he thought he had none left. “She’s mine...E...min...she’s...”

Gone. You were gone, lost to him now, and there wasn’t a thing he could do about it.

...Or was there?

Hastily he reached to grab the flyer from before, then remembered it was in pieces all over the floor. He struggled for an hour putting it all back together, but once he had a mischievous grin found its way where originally no amusement could be found. A tiny, faint ray of hope amongst the coming darkness.

𝑷𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒄𝒆 𝑱𝒂𝒆𝒎𝒊𝒏 𝒕𝒐 𝒃𝒆 𝒔𝒕𝒂𝒚𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒂𝒕 𝒓𝒐𝒚𝒂𝒍 𝒑𝒂𝒍𝒂𝒄𝒆 // 𝑨𝒓𝒓𝒊𝒗𝒂𝒍 𝒅𝒂𝒕𝒆 𝑴𝒂𝒓𝒄𝒉 𝟑𝒓𝒅

That was tomorrow. The Duchess must have convinced them to postpone the wedding for her daughter’s funeral. Which meant...

There was still time.

✦

With not a moment to lose Chenle rushed through the bustling palace walls, each hall as lively as the next as staff from every category of service hustled and hurried and scampered about, preparing for the wedding of the century.

Prince Jaemin had just arrived not but a few hours prior, and with his disguise as an errand boy Chenle had gotten all the right information and knew exactly where to find him.

Now he was just hoping he could get there fast enough, before someone knocked into him and revealed his dire plan.

Looking left, then right, he continued to weave in and out of the crowded hallway until he made it to the far end of the hall, making a stealthy left turn. He made his way down the steps to the kitchens, climbing into a dumbwaiter when no one was looking and working his way up the rope, grunting profusely with each feeble tug and the occasional cough. The moment he made it to the fifth floor he released a tired breath all at once, making sure the coast was clear before exiting the small chamber and trotting on lightfoot down the surprisingly quiet hallway given all the commotion downstairs.

His next task was to locate which one of these blasted guest rooms belonged to the Norwich prince. He had yet to get that far…

Knock knock knock.

“Your Highness?”

He whirled around and tripped his way behind a potted plant, almost spilling the chloroform in his pocket. A door he’d passed some twenty-odd steps ago was opened from the inside by a butler with a peculiarly sour look on his face.

The maid outside smiled kindly. “Pardon me, but all our errand boys are busy at this time. Her Majesty the Queen would like to have a word with His Highness, if that’s alright.”

“...” The young butler turned back into the room. “Yo, Jaemin. The old lady wants to talk to you.”

There was a hissing sound, followed by heavy footsteps before the boy was suddenly yanked back by his collar, a tall, handsomely dressed one taking his place instead. “Please forgive my idiot brother. He’s...a rare case.”

Mumbling could be heard in the background as the maid turned the whitest shade of pale Chenle had ever seen, bowing and apologizing profusely for not recognizing the youngest prince. In her defense, Chenle hadn’t of known either.

But that was besides the fact. His real target was now standing just a few feet away.

He hated how attractive he was. How he radiated an aura of regal perfection. It turned his insides into a dark, muddy green…

Somehow Jaemin had convinced the idiot brother with a smart mouth to take his place in seeing the Queen as a form of punishment (and to apologize for referring to her as an “old lady,” even if the hag was ancient beyond her years) and just before the door closed and the two witnesses had vanished around the corner, he made his move, dashing quickly and shoving his way--

...Right into the door. Thud.

He winced, praying to God his nose wasn’t broken just now. He should have known this guy probably lifted weights on a daily basis, where the only thing he ever lifted was a paintbrush.

He knocked, a hand still over his aching nose.

The moment the door opened he braced himself, whipping out the chloroform that...leaked in his pocket…

The last thing he remembered was the repeating curse he irately flung at himself: Drat, drat, drat…

✦

When he awoke some twenty minutes later, the first thing Chenle noticed was a handsome young man sitting at his bedside.

Great. He was having another nightmare.

But the young man’s nervous laughter proved that he was, in fact, awake, not dreaming.

“There have been far better applicated attempts on my life than the one you just tried to pull.”

The pauper took a deep breath, coughing on the exhale as he threw himself up into a sitting position, then on his knees, knife in hand.

He furrowed his brow a second later; why had the prince not disarmed him…?

Prince Jaemin merely smiled as bright and cleanly as sunshine on a crisp, cool day with the knife hanging inches away from his throat. He didn’t even budge.

Chenle scowled. “Why aren’t you frightened of me? Why didn’t you disarm me while I was unconscious? ...Why did you help me at all? Why not report me to the guard, or the executioner, or--”

“Executioner? My, what troublesome times these must be if you’re sentenced to execution for a simple act of violence.”

A simple act of…?

Chenle didn’t know whether to be confused or appalled. So he was both.

The look on his face must have been quite the spectacle, because the next moment Jaemin was chuckling kindly, as if they’d been having a basic conversation about the weather. “You sure do ask a lot of questions, I’ll give you that. As I mentioned before, you’re not the first poor sap who’s wanted me dead.” His eyes gleamed curiously then, almost taking on a new persona entirely. “Now let me ask you something. Why on Earth would you mention being hauled off to be...executed, of all things?”

Chenle’s whole posture drooped. His shoulders sagged. His breath hitched ever slightly, before being onset by a minor coughing fit.

Jaemin swiftly helped to ease him back onto the bed, but the ill boy fought back, thrusting the knife above his neck once more.

“D-Don’t…” He coughed again. “Don’t help me. I don’t need or want your help. I only want my Emin back. I’m not going to let you take her away from me…!”

“Emin?” The Prince frowned. “I don’t have anything like that...I’m afraid I don’t quite follow what you…!” Then his face lit up with realization. “Ah, wait, you mean that painting in the Duchess’ quarters?” His face began glowing with soft sort of realism. “It’s lovely. Did you paint that?”

“It’s a girl,” Chenle coughed, slowly coming out of his minor attack. “...and she has a name...her name is--”

“Emin,” Jaemin cooed, purred, slandered. As if he enjoyed the way it melted on his tongue the same way it brought the artist pleasure.

He glared, eyes growing dark. “Don’t say her name. You don’t get to say it! She’s mine, my Emin, and I won’t let you take her away from me. Even if I have to...even if I have to…”

“Kill me?”

He flinched, muscles tensing sharply beneath his borrowed clothes. “...Yes. Even if I have to kill you.”

Jaemin was all smiles again-- actually smiling. Did this guy have some sort of death wish? Was he mocking him right now? Challenging him, daring him to try?

Chenle had no idea. It was either that, or he was into some really weird stuff. “Why are you smiling like that? Tell me right now!”

“...You’re a demanding little thing.”

“Tell me, I said!”

“Hmm…” He breathed out through his nostrils, leaning back in the chair he’d pulled up beside the bed. “If you’d really wanted to kill me...you would have done so already. But you haven’t. We’re still talking, aren’t we?”

This hit Chenle harder than he was expecting it to; he practically felt the air deflate from his lungs, and he’d just managed to suppress his haggering coughing fit.

“And I daresay I’ve counted at least three prime opportunities you could have striked.”

“...I…”

The prince simpered, crossing one richly-clad foot over the opposite knee. “So why don’t you tell me about this...Emin of yours.”

Chenle was back to being angry and frustrated all over again. “Why should I? After this, I’ll never see her again…she’s going to be yours anyway...”

He clenched the knife in his hand. Jaemin pursed his lips into a curious pout.

“And why’s that? What do you mean, she’s going to be mine? I’m not interested in buying the painting if that’s what you--”

“Of course that’s not it! You’re going to be marrying her soon enough! You’re right, what you said before...there’s nothing I can do to save her from you…”

Jaemin’s face may as well have been pandora’s box. “What? What in the name of Sam Hill are you talking about? Why would I want to marry a painting…?”

Chenle deadpanned. At least the prince had looks going for him. “I’m not talking about the Emin of my dreams! I’m talking about the real one!”

“The...The real one…?”

“Yes!!”

“...Oh.”

He still didn’t get it. The artist facepalmed. “My Emin. She goes by…” He swallowed harshly, afraid to even speak your name aloud before the prince who’d be stealing you away. “...(y/n)...”

Jaemin seemed to be getting an awful lot of amusement out of the visual display of embarrassment the painter showed. “(Y/n)? As in, Viscountess (y/n)?”

“Don’t speak her name!! At least have the decency to wait until I’m dead before you do…”

“Why on Earth would I want to do a thing like that?” He rolled his eyes. “You sure do talk a lot about execution and death. Do you want to die?”

Chenle had to think about this for a moment. Did he want to die? Technically, without you, he was nothing. Empty. A blank canvas with nothing to show.

Then, there was his mother...with his brother overseas, he was the only one working to support the two of them other than herself. As much as he loved you, he didn’t want to leave her all alone…

...Then again, it wouldn’t matter anyway. His life was on a clock right now, ticking much faster than the average, everyday man’s. He was going to die soon regardless.

“...it doesn’t matter. I’m going to die anyway.”

The princely man blinked. “What do you mean?”

He sighed, placing a blistered hand over his faintly beating heart. “I’m...sick. I was born weak, with a strange illness no cleric has ever seen before. There’s no cure for it either, I...I honestly wasn’t expected to live this long. It’s a miracle I’m even still alive right now…”

“That doesn’t answer my original query.”

“What? Yes it does—“

“No, it doesn’t.” Jaemin tsked, shaking his head. “I asked you, do you want to die. Not if you’re going to or not.”

“...” Violently, Chenle shook his head no. The elder of the two grinned.

“Good! Then we can start preparing you for the wedding right away. Oh, and I’ll get you some medicine as well. Judging by your symptoms you have a condition that’s rare but not unheard of in Norwich. So long as you don’t over exert yourself, I can have a brew cooked up and in your hands in about a week, maybe two...give or take.”

He nearly choked. This was a lot of information, but the one thing that really caught his attention was... “W...Wedding?”

So now he expected him to go? To watch (y/n) be married off? To officially strip the last few remaining pigments of color out of his life?!

Oh, he’d be there alright. But not—

“Yeah. You have to be present for your own wedding. It’s sort of a requirement, actually.”

...A re...A require…

His own wedding?!

Just then the youngest Prince of Norwich returned, popping a bubble of some sticky-sweet substance between his lips on his way in. Jaemin beamed in delight.

“Oh, Jisung, perfect timing. I need you to go back down and bring me a tailor. Anyone will do, so long as he’s qualified.”

“Tailor?” Jisung’s face was scrunched up in obvious puzzlement. “But I just got back up here! What the heck do you need a tailor for? And who the heck is he?” He pointed to Chenle, blowing another pink bubble and popping it with his teeth. “Y’know, Dad told you to--”

“Again, Jisung, Mark is not our father.” He chastised. “...But yes, I know what he said. That’s not it, though.” He gestured to Chenle as if to present a showcase prize. “This colorful young fellow is...he’s uh...er…” He scratched his ear. “What did you say your name was again?”

Chenle almost didn’t want to tell him. But then he really, really did. Because he thought he knew where this was going, and if he was right; which he was; he didn’t want to miss out on this one and only golden opportunity to save you, to save his entire world, and to finally, surely, be able to leave this world in peace once his time was soon to come...in case he didn’t happen to get that medicine in time. “Chenle.”

“Chenle...~” Jaemin nodded. “That’s a wonderful name. I like it, really. It suits the future Viscount of Adderdale rather nicely. Let’s see...Chenle. Sir Chenle! Siiir Chenle...yes, yes, I like it.” He rubbed his chin in thought with a few more nods.

Jisung stared at him like he was dumb as rocks. “Uh, hello? I don’t get it. You’re telling me that this--” he pointed to Chenle-- “--poor kid off the street is going to marry Viscountess what’s-her-name? And not you? Don’t you think Dad-- I mean, Mark, is gonna be...kinda sus? And pissed? Not to mention Renjun and Jeno…”

Jaemin shrugged. “Hey, what can I say? I’d hate to stand in the way of true love...it would be wrong to steal away this young man’s girl when he obviously adores her more than I ever could.”

He winked. Jisung groaned. “You can’t just slack off your duties for some angsty teen romance novel fling! You’re gonna get us both in trouble!”

“......” The elder shook his head, running a hand through his wavy blonde hair. “I knew I should have brought Hyuck, and not you. It’ll be good for him, they said. You’ll be doing us a favor, they said. Aiyaiyai…”

“Hey! Rude!”

“Just go bring me a tailor already! I’ll deal with our brothers when we get home, but I’m this sure at the very least, Jeno would agree with me.”

He held his fingers inches apart, and Jisung deflated a little, beginning to cave. His brother just kept on rambling.

“...We’ll have to get him cleaned up...and do something about that hair...I doubt any of my clothes will fit him, much less my wedding attire…”

Finally the youngest rolled his eyes, and as he shut the door behind him Chenle could hardly breathe. He just couldn’t believe it.

He was getting a second chance. He was going to marry his Emin.

✦

“Are you sure you understand the plan?”

“Yes.”

“And you know where to go when I give the signal?”

“Yes…”

“And you’re absolutely sure you--”

“Oh my gosh, Jaemin, he gets it already!” Jisung snapped. “Just hurry up and get out there before they start suspecting anything! I can’t believe I’m playing along with this…”

With a determined nod Jaemin took off out into the bustling chapel, everyone getting ready to take their places for the celebratory event. Because everything had to be just perfect, the Norwich Prince was directed to take his place in a back hallway, where he’d be escorted out onto the platform by high-ranking officials.

Chenle watched with nervous breadth. What if something went wrong? What if Jaemin changed his mind the moment he saw you walking out, looking like a waking dream? The personification of sheer beauty and ethereal godliness? A goddess among goddesses, Aphrodite herself?

He wouldn’t be able to take it. He’d have to stab himself in the heart and end it all right then and there--

“Hey.”

He looked over to Jisung, who was eyeing him suspiciously. 

“Stop being so overdramatic. You’re worse than Haechan when he’s drunk off his ass.”

“Who?”

He blew another bubble, allowing it to pop at the peak of his eye roll. “Never mind. Listen...you don’t have anything to worry about. Jaemin’s not like that. Whatever you were thinking. He’s a good guy, really...also...I uh…” He rubbed the back of his neck, turning his eyes away. “I think you guys look good together. You and um…(y/n)?”

He casted him a sideways glance for confirmation, and when Chenle nodded, he returned the gesture. “Yeah, (y/n)...I saw you guys together, out in the front garden a few days ago...my ship arrived here before my brother’s. He took too long getting ready, so I set off without him.” He shrugged. “Anyway...the two of you seemed to be having a disagreement of sorts, but...I don’t know, the way you were staring at each other, deep into the other’s eyes, I could tell you were really close. Like an old flame or something.”

...An old flame...Chenle didn’t know what to say. He wasn’t entirely wrong, but— he was at a loss for words.

Then the youngest prince said something that really took his breath away. “Y’know...I think that, maybe, you and me could have been great friends if we’d grown up together.” He smiled, a small one, but one nonetheless. “I know this is kind of sudden, since we barely know each other, but...I think I would have liked that. You should come visit us in Norwich sometime. You’d love it there, honestly— the Winters are beautiful.”

It was out there so suddenly, so kindly worded, Chenle didn’t know how to process it all. Him? Having friends? He’d been sick his whole life, the only people ever paying him any kind of attention being his mother and his brother when he’d been around and...of course, you...the day you found him laying out on the street within an inch of his life, and you rescued him from certain death, he immediately knew you were the one. He’d instantly fallen in love with you. Those feelings only grew and grew over time…

However...the thought of having a friend…

He didn’t think he knew the answer. But the palette in his mind was equipped with a bright, yellow color, and he found himself nodding meekly before he knew what he was doing.

Jisung tilted his head back in a pleased indication that he’d gotten the message of what Chenle had meant to say, even though no words would come to him; after all, the boy was an artist, not a poet. “I should probably take my seat. Good luck out there.”

With a pat on the back, he crossed the threshold.

Now all that was left was for him to wait.

✦

It’d be an understatement to say that you were nervous. Because you weren’t; you were more than nervous, you were practically horrified.

You’d thought you could handle it. Really, you did. But the moment it actually started happening, it was instantly all too much; only now it was ten times worse, because it was actually happening in real time.

First the music started to play, a gorgeous symphony of organs and strings. The Queen had even hired a quartet of flautists to play in harmony to the familiar chorus of Canon in D Major. The flower girl made her entrance first, tossing flower petals down the aisle and into the waiting audience. They gushed and cooed over how cute she was, muttering comments of how handsome of a boy the ring bearer behind her would grow up to be, though he was practically more of a man than a boy...that ring bearer being…

...Zhong Chenle? What?!

Your jaw nearly hit the floor at the sight of him, striding into the room with such perfect posture and well-to-do attire. He looked like a prince out of a fairytale novel.

But what on Earth was he doing here…?

“My Lady, it’s time,” called a maid. You had a hard time peeling your eyes away, but you were able to nonetheless with a bit of effort on both yours and the maids parts as they pulled you away to your proper waiting station outside.

It broke your heart that he’d gotten himself roped into this, and you had no idea how he’d done it, but maybe after this, at least, you could send him off with a proper goodbye…

✦

He’d been too nervous. He couldn’t wait any longer. He had to do something.

So the second the melody of Beetovhen’s chorus flitted about the room, he snatched the rings from a boy waiting nearby, stumbling his way in right behind a small flower girl and immediately righting the way he carried himself.

He could feel Jaemin’s eyes on him from the far off hall where he peeked behind a curtain, pleading for him to turn back. He could hear Jisung’s ragged breathy sigh, calling him an idiot.

But he didn’t care. He wouldn’t. This was all for you...and anyway, it was too late to change anything about the choice he’d made now.

He paused at the foot of the altar, going to the opposite side where the men waited as traditional Adderdale weddings he’d witnessed in his lifetime. Then he took a deep, shaky breath, fighting back the urge to cough as a tickle made its way to the back of his throat.

Not now. Not now. Please, not now.

The small orchestra suddenly broke out into the Norwich national anthem, and Jaemin made his appearance, walking tall and proud and princely to stand at his place atop the altar; temporarily, that is.

He sent Chenle a sly wink from where the boy stood just two feet behind him.

“It’s alright. We can still make this work out. I know you must be incredibly nervous right now; I would be, too, were I the one getting married today.”

Curse the man. Chenle couldn’t help but smile.

Then it was the moment everyone had been anticipating: as the Norwichian anthem came to a whole-noted close, a circle of guards surrounding the chapel stepped forward from their placement along the surrounding walls in unison, saluting as the King and Queen entered, followed by the Duchess and a few other nobles Chenle never paid enough attention to remember the names of. They each took their seats, and then...then…

The most beautiful harmonic arrangement began to play, and everyone quieted straightaway, the room falling instantly silent as a gentle hush fell over the crowd. The familiar melodic tune of Here Comes The Bride circled round and round the room, and within seconds all eyes were on what had to be...what surely was...he just…

He wasn’t a poet, as was mentioned before. There were simply no words yet in existence to describe how...how…

You were perfect. That’s the best way he could think to paint it; and speaking of paint, he wanted to capture this moment so badly on canvas and…

No. In reality, he wanted you all to himself. He didn’t want anyone to see you looking so beautiful, for fear that they may steal you away from him as the palace did years ago, and as Jaemin almost had (or would have) that very day.

You approached the aisle at a slow, leisurely pace, crisp and clean and glowing with pristine perfection as two more flower girls hurried before you, and an ensemble of maids held up the trail of your dress and veil whilst shadowing at your heels.

Chenle desperately wanted to knock them all over and scurry out of there with you in his arms. If only he were strong and brave enough to do a thing like that…

The urge to cough was getting worse. He tried clearing his throat beneath the guise of the fluttering chorus, but that only seemed to make the need more prominent.

As you finally made your way up the altar steps, it was then that he simply couldn’t take it anymore. Something in him went black, shutting down, and he…

He collapsed.

✦

A series of gasps and astonished cries reverberated off the chapel walls and stained glass windows as the boy you hardly recognized hit the ground with a pain-filled grunt.

Acting quickly Prince Jaemin nearly threw himself down to help your dearest friend, pushing guards and other palace help out of the way when they tried to draw near. You yourself tossed the bouquet of wildflowers the Queen had insisted you carry (the national flower of Norwich) over your shoulder, a few stuck-up and self-centered bridesmaids scrambling to catch it and squealing excitedly about which of the other princes were available to marry.

Jisung had shut them up pretty fast with a rude remark, but you were too focused on the topic at hand to hear exactly what it was.

“Chenle!” you cried, lifting the limp boy in your arms. “Oh, Chenle...please say something…!”

This was it. You were afraid something like this might happen one day. But you’d never thought it would be so soon...Chenle’s illness was no surprise to you; you’d known about it for quite some time. In fact, it was you that had secretly been funding a portion of his monthly checkups with a palace cleric, a silent agreement you’d made with his grateful mother.

And now it was really happening. He was dying right here in your arms. You hated that your brain immediately jumped to the worst possible conclusion, but...what else could it be? He’d never had a fit this bad before...not that you knew of, at least.

Chenle simpered up at you weakly as a tear crossed the distance from your cheek to his, reaching up an unsteady hand to caress away the tears. Your face shouldn’t be sullied with worry over his sake. “D...Don’t cry…” His chest heaved violently, feeble frame shivering between each ragged cough. “...I’ll be...okay...I…” He took a deep, deep breath. You held onto yours.

And then it was said. The words you never thought you would ever hear, never thought you wanted to hear, never thought you would be the one to say:

“I love you, Chenle. I love you so much...”

Tears were pouring down your face now, his shivers contaminating your body as you shook along with him, exposing your heart and soul over the dying young artist.

“Please don’t leave. Stay with me...wherever you go, I’ll go, and wherever you stay, I too will stay...I don’t care if you’re sick, or that you come from a broken family, or that you’re poor, or dirty, or weak. You’ve always hated that about yourself, but none of that matters to me...you’re just Chenle to me. Just Chenle...I’ll...I’ll be your sword and shield, your strength and shelter. I’ll follow you to the ends of this very Earth, and I...I love you, Chenle...it would be my honor to take care of you, for the rest of our days. Just don’t leave me…!”

Your eyes were squeezed shut at this point, trying to stop the flood of facepaint from raining off the thundercloud of emotion that was currently your face, and when Chenle’s hand fell limp in yours you gasped, throwing your eyes open…

And seeing that he was sitting up. Calming down. Gathering himself.

He...wasn’t dying…?

Jaemin heaved a heavy-laden sigh relief as he pulled out a needle from the boy’s opposite arm. “Thank the good Lord you brought an emergency antidote with you...nice one, Jisung.”

Another blonde-haired boy sighed. “Well, you know, really Renjun forced it on me, but...y’know.” He shrugged.

Profoundly, you turned your attention back to Chenle. He was looking at you with stars in his eyes.

Suddenly everything you had just revealed deep down in the recesses of your heart came swinging back to whop you in the face, and you just knew you must have resembled the reddest tomato out back in the royal vegetable garden. You attempted to once more hide your blushing face--

Of course, Chenle had other ideas in mind. Of course, he had cupped your messy tear-stained face, placing a...kiss…?!

You melted into it, and so did he, the colors and clarity and butterflies all swirling together. For now you were receiving a reality neither of you had ever thought to be possible, and now, finally, he was able to mix his palette with yours. And it wasn’t a mess as he feared; it was a beautiful masterpiece.

Jaemin was the first one to applaud, and soon, hesitantly at first, the rest of the chapel began to follow.

“I’d say you may now kiss the bride, but uh...it appears to be a little too late for that,” he jested. His brother frowned, rolling his eyes with another blow of gum.

“Ya think?”

“...”

He smirked, popping the bubble in his face and everyone gasping with laughter as it exploded there.

“Shut up.”

✦

“Hey, wife?”

“Yes, Chenle?”

He frowned, his face sagging at the ends. “You’re supposed to say, husband.”

“Oh,” you laughed, moving on to the next exhibit as the two of you walked around the new art studio, hand in hand, taking in each and every piece of the artist’s work on display. “Sorry, sorry. Ahem…” You started again. “Yes, husband?”

Chenle hummed happily, his whole face beaming with pure joy and delight. He seemed to be spacing out, tossing his head from side to side as if doing a little jig in his mind.

“...Chenle. Chenle? Helloooo…?” You waved your hand in front of his face, and he winced, snapping back to you quickly with the goofiest grin you’d ever seen.

He really was so cute. “Yes, (Y/n)? I mean, wife?”

You shook your head. “What is it you wanted to tell me?”

“Tell you…? Oh, yeah!” He continued to stare at you a bit too intently. “Have I told you I love you today? Because I do. And I just want to make sure that you know how much I--”

You let out a sound that was a cross between a groan and more laughter, wrapping an arm around his as the two of you continued to stroll around the winding halls. “Yes, Chen--”

He gave you a deadpan.

“...I mean, husband. Husband.” you assured him. “Yes, you have. This would be the twenty-eighth time now.”

He gave a smug and satisfied smirk that was all too cute on his yet again paint-stained face. The moment the medicine from Norwich had come in, Chenle’s health had rapidly improved, and he was able to paint in a way you’d never witnessed him do before: peacefully. Happily. Content. It was a marvelous sight to behold.

Despite the lack of another knot tied uniting the lands of Norwich and Adderdale, negotiations and trade among the two lands had been carrying on better than ever; swimmingly, in fact. You and Chenle were set to visit Norwich Palace for a business meeting and tea within the coming weeks. They all couldn’t have been more pleased with the outcome of things; according to a recent letter from Jaemin, who was now a good friend of yours, their brother’s had wished you and Chenle the best of luck and sent you their love and blessings in the new relationship. Apparently their brother Hyuck had even cried a little...but in his defense, the prince wrote, the boy was rather drunk.

The two of you came to stop before Chenle’s latest masterpiece: Emin No. 59. A portrait of the girl who looked like you in a wedding gown suspiciously similar to yours, standing with dignity and grace atop the chapel altar, surrounded by birds and squirrels and other wildlife, the sun shading colors of the rainbow upon her skin...he may as well have titled the piece Snow White.

“Say, Chenle...ah, husband...” You pursed your lips profusely in an overzealous pout. “You never told me: why do you call her that? Why Emin?”

“......” Chenle was quiet all of ten seconds as he formed his response. He smiled tenfold, putting all previous glee to shame, the light from the coming sunset casting small spotlights through cracks in the palace curtains that highlighted all your best features; which would have been all of you, to him at least. “Because…” he replied, taking your hands into his and kissing your knuckles softly. Something he’d be doing everyday, every waking moment he saw you, for the rest of his life. “You’re Emin. My Emin...and you’re all mine.” ღ

[laceymorganwrites]

Gravity boy

Word Count: 3.020

Pairing: Chuuya x reader

Warnings: swearing

A/N: this was very much fun to write! I hope you like reading it as much as I liked writing it

“How do we know you´re not a spy?” you asked the newest recruit of the agency, crossing your arms. He just smiled sadly. “Because I promised a good friend of mine to be a better person”.

His words and the sincerity that came with them left you speechless.

Dazai was a strange person to say at least, you thought.

It was your job to research every potential new member of the agency and the things you found out about Dazai scared you. He was one of the strongest executives and part of the strongest team in the Mafia, all the things he has done… and now he asked to be part of the agency?

It didn´t make any sense. At least not to you.

But for whatever reason the director gave him a chance anyway.

Time passed and Dazai proved himself a valuable member of the agency, thanks to him you solved many mysteries and finished missions in almost no time whatsoever.

Your first suspicions went away and it was as if Dazai has always been a part of the agency.

Nevertheless he couldn´t run from his past any longer.

You had your hands full of research on your current enemy, your eyes scanned the screen of your computer as you desperately tried to find out anything useful. Ranpo sat next to you to figure out a plan of attack, you were in a heated conversation about whether you could risk a raid or should attack from afar.

Ranpo was in favor of the raid, he argued it would be done quicker and nothing could go wrong.

You on the other hand were in favor of the attack from afar, you were a sniper and you could control the situation better this way. With the overview this granted everything would go smoothly.

“You wanna bet? We could split up, whoever finishes the mission first wins” you suggested, still not paying any attention to your surroundings.

“Bet on what?” Ranpo asked, but you could already tell he would accept.

“If you win, I´ll buy you your favorite snacks. And if I win…” you had to think a while.

��If I win you have to do my paperwork for a week!” Ranpo whined a bit, but in the end he gave in.

“We found their hideout, guys!” you announced happily.

Ranpo and you were just about to decide your teams when a deafening rumble occurred.

Your eyes wandered to the direction of the strange sound and you watched as the entrance door fell down with a loud crash.

Jumping slightly at the loudness, you got up from your seat and walked over to where Dazai and the rest were standing, Ranpo following close after.

“Chuuya-kun… I see you still haven´t grown an inch” Dazai spoke up with a weird undertone.

So the person who kicked down the door so rudely was his former partner in the mafia.

When he finally showed himself and entered the room, you couldn´t help but feel like time stood still.

You couldn´t help but notice the fire in his steel blue eyes that seemed to pierce through everything. And the way his hair seemed to dance around his shoulders, you imagined its softness. Lastly there was something about his facial expression that made the heat rise in your cheeks.

If somebody told you beforehand there would be handsome men like him in the mafia, you      would´ve considered changing jobs.

“Shut up, Dazai! I´m a grown man” he snapped at him and pouted a bit.

“Cute…” you whispered, earning a raised eyebrow from Ranpo and a shaking head from Yosano.

You blushed at the realization that you just said that out loud.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” Dazai asked, you never saw him this annoyed, it made you chuckle ever so slightly.

“I come in peace, you idiot. Don´t make me change my mind” Chuuya growled.

You used the moment of disbelief and silence on Dazai´s side to speak up.

“Um… Sorry to interrupt, but was it really necessary to kick our door down? It doesn´t really give a peaceful impression” you asked, pointing at the broken door.

Chuuya gave you a look of confusion before replying: “Erm… I guess not” he mentioned flatly, glaring at you two seconds longer before turning to Dazai again.

Why did no one tell him the Agency hired such beauties? It took a while for Chuuya to finally take his eyes off you, normally he never lost his cool but there was just something about you that made him forget all his words. How could a single glance at you have such an effect on him? The suicidal´s face held an amused expression.

“Cat got your tongue, Chuuya-kun?” Dazai chuckled. “Shut up, Dazai!” the ginger yelled at him.

Why did the suicidal maniac always have to embarrass him like that?

“Do you mind telling us why you´re here? I have a bet to win” Ranpo chimed in, making you scoff. As if you´d let him win…

“Oh, right. The boss told me to help with your current mission. As a sign of good will for the new alliance” he spat the words as if they were poison after he finally found his voice again. He practically had to rip his eyes off you forcefully and it hurt him as much as that sounded.

You exchanged suspicious looks with your colleagues.

An alliance between the agency and mafia? As if that would ever work… but then again, the director went out to have a talk with the mafia´s boss today.

“Ranpo-kun, you can pick first” you told him, it was nice to know the director succeeded in pursuing the mafia boss to accept the alliance.

“Yosano” he smiled and you took your turns until your teams were chosen.

Team Ranpo consisted of him, Yosano and Dazai. You got Kunikida and Chuuya who was still a bit confused by the situation.

“Ranpo and me have a bet. Whoever finishes the mission first wins. He and his team are gonna raid the base and we are gonna attack from above” you filled him in.

“Understood” he nodded, still hanging at your lips as if there was no tomorrow.

Chuuya didn´t have his actions and thoughts under control and it annoyed him to no end, this never happened to him before.

“Alright! I´m getting my gun and then we´re good to go!” you chirped as you hurried over to your desk, grabbing the needed equipment.

Ranpo´s team were already on the move and you followed close after, positioning yourself on the roof of the opposite building of the enemy´s hideout.

“Kunikida, stand watch outside and take care of the escapees, Chuuya, secure the entrances and make sure nobody can get out the back” you ordered.

While the two did their jobs you put together your gun and laid flat on the roof, taking your aim.

Now you just had to wait for the right opportunity.

The target, the boss of the enemy´s organization, entered the building and you were almost ready to shoot when Ranpo´s team barged in. The people tried to flee from the backdoor but Kunikida and Chuuya did a good job defeating them, giving you time to take out the boss.

Two minutes after Ranpo´s team entered your team finished the mission and won the bet.

You grinned widely, escaping the roof of the building and joining your team.

“Good job, everyone!” you announced and walked over to Chuuya.

“You still have to fix our door, gravity boy” you teased him, making him blush slightly.

“Don´t call me that!” he groaned, resulting in your giggling.

“But it´s your power, isn´t it?” you continued.

“Yeah, but… I don´t call you sniper person!” he argued.

You laughed out loud. “You wouldn´t be wrong” you smiled at him.

“Chuuya-kun, stay away from our lovely (Y/N), would ya?” Dazai came up to you.

“We were just having some fun, Dazai” you defended him.

“He´s not the kind of guy to have fun with. I don´t want you hanging around him, (Y/N). He´s only going to break your heart” he let you know.

The cold look he gave Chuuya made you uncomfortable, you just teased him a bit, it didn´t even mean anything. You wondered why those two hated each other so much.

“I´ll let the boss know the mission succeeded” Chuuya told you.

“It was nice working with you, (Y/N)” he cracked a smile you could only return.

“Likewise, gravity boy” you giggled.

“Stop calling me that already!” Chuuya whined, making you laugh.

Hearing the sound of your laugh made his heart jump in his chest, he felt dizzy for a reason and couldn´t help but smile at you.

Then he saw the way Dazai looked at him and left for his headquarters.

“I hope you never have to see this man again, (Y/N)” Dazai told you when you got back to the agency.

You rolled your eyes, you knew for a fact Dazai didn´t like you that way, so why was he behaving like a jealous bitch?

“Could you stop it already, Dazai? What´s so bad about him? You´re acting as if it´s the end of the world when nothing happened” you groaned, just wishing he´d stop being so over dramatic.

Dazai chuckled in a dangerously low way, he did this sometimes to intimidate enemies.

You gulped, having a bad feeling about this.

“What´s so bad about him? I can tell you all about it, (Y/N). But all you have to know right now is that he´s a dangerous man who doesn´t have himself under control and when he wants something he uses every means necessary to obtain it. He is very violent, very angry… I just want you to know this now. I don´t want you finding out when it´s already too late.” he warned you.

You couldn´t help but burst out in laughter at Dazai´s try to scare you.

“All that you just said, isn´t that kind of what the mafia is all about? I bet you were just the same when you worked with them. And besides… weren´t you two partners? And very effective as a team? Isn´t it obvious to have that kind of attitude to achieve those things. That doesn´t mean he is like that in private. But all that doesn´t matter because like I said: it doesn´t mean anything” you crossed your arms.

In the same instance the director walked in, nodding at the two of you as a greeting.

“Gather around everyone, I have a few announcements to make” he said and promptly the whole staff of the agency gathered.

“First of all I want to congratulate you on completing the mission so splendidly. This is the perfect example for the ability of this alliance to work. Because of this we were invited to a party at the mafia´s headquarters tonight. Please make sure to behave.” he dismissed you.

As soon as you heard that there was going to be a party you asked yourself who the hell thought that would be a good idea.

Seriously, the mafia and the agency, in one room?

Were they out of their fucking minds? It´s like they wanted people to go at each other´s throats.

Normally you wouldn´t go to such events, you thought it a waste of time. Despite, you were just the office staff, were you even allowed to attend such an event?

Well, that was until a certain handsome ginger factor rapidly changed the equation.

You were so going.

Saying you panicked trying to figure out what to wear and how to approach Chuuya would be the understatement of the century.

You almost lost your mind and in the end you decided not to go, but luckily Yosano dragged you to the headquarters herself.

Now there was no going back.

Entering the big room the party was already going quite well, nobody seemed to notice you.

You should be sad, Yosano left you alone to hang out with Ranpo and the others, nobody even seemed to see you yet alone know it was kind of you who made the mission a success.

It was like you didn´t even existed.

Any other person would be sad, but not you.

You never felt comfortable boasting about your success or having everyone´s eyes on you. That´s the reason you signed up for the office job when you could have very well been more than capable of being a field agent.

You used this situation of being invisible to think about how you could leave this party.

“(Y/N)?” Chuuya approached you, the last thing you thought would happen.

This did mess with your plan, but also with your brain, how did you speak again? “Oh, um… hello Chuuya.” well, that certainly wasn´t how you did it.

Somehow you always managed to make a fool of yourself when you were around pretty boys.

“I didn´t think you´d come...” he mumbled, not meeting your eyes and fidgeting his with his hands in his pockets.

“And miss a chance of seeing you, gravity boy?” you giggled, where you got the sudden confidence? You couldn´t tell, must´ve been the energy radiating of Chuuya. “Not a chance” you stretched your words and gazed into his eyes a bit, smiling at him.

And before he knew it Chuuya returned your look, getting caught in your beautiful eyes that seemed to long for something. He bet he had the same look right now, only that he was longing for them.

“Well, that´s nice… but I don´t think Dazai would approve” he sounded sad and it infuriated you.

“Dazai has no say in with who I spend my time with” you told him.

Chuuya nodded and then gave you a warm smile.

“You know I hate parties like these, you´re just forced to talk to people you don´t like. And honestly the only person I want to be around right now is you” he sighed.

And you could use someone to pinch you right now to prove this was in fact happening and not just a stupid dream.

“Do you want to go out with me?” Chuuya asked you boldly and you asked yourself again if you weren´t dreaming.

“Me? You want to go out with me? Are you joking?” you tried to formulate your confusion but  didn´t even recognize you were talking.

“Well yeah, I wouldn´t be asking otherwise. But I understand if you don´t want to, I won´t bother you again” he sounded glum all of a sudden and you finally realized that this wasn´t a dream but really happening. You could wonder why later, now you needed to make the best out of the situation.

“Chuuya wait! Of course I want to go out with you, I just wasn´t sure if you were serious. I mean I´m just an office worker and you´re the top executive…” you mumbled, you knew someone like you would normally never be approached by someone like Chuuya but for whatever reason it happened.

Chuuya chuckled. “Don´t let our jobs and ranks interfere with this… I want to go out with you because you´re beautiful and I want to get to know you better, that´s all there is to it” he explained.

His words somehow touched your heart and you had to smile.

“Well, let´s leave this party then” you suggested bravely.

“Gladly” Chuuya said relieved, putting his arm around your waist gently.

You felt yourself get dizzy at the sudden contact.

The two of you walked for a while until you arrived in a park where you sat down on a bench.

During the way you talked a lot and the atmosphere was magical, Chuuya was incredibly funny and such a gentleman.

“You know, I don´t get what Dazai has against you… all these things he said about you just aren´t true. Honestly, he talks about you as if you are some kind of monster” you laughed, trying to lighten up the mood, but oh how you failed.

Chuuya´s body stiffened. “He´s not wrong, (Y/N). I am a monster and I´m reminded of that every day. There are thigns about me you don´t know, the things I do when I lose control of my ability… it scares me” he whispered.

You frowned, gently taking his hand into yours.

“I refuse to believe Dazai´s words are true. He´s just trying to prove his nonexistent superiority over you. Besides… aren´t monsters ugly and hideous? And if I can tell you one thing I know for sure you´re not it´s ugly and hideous. Like honestly, if you were truly to be a monster as you claim to be, I´d be having a problem. Because that would mean I´m attracted to a monster. And I just refuse to believe that monsters are as handsome as you! But what´s more important is that you´re very kind, monsters are not. Monsters don´t give a shit about you, they just kill you. And you´re funny too. Now I´ve never seen a monster that´s funny, well, maybe in really bad movies, but this isn´t just a bad movie, this is reality, you know? And…” you were lost in your thoughts, rambling on and on about all the reasons Chuuya couldn´t be a monster and Dazai was an idiot for saying so. Chuuya looked at you all the way through and for once in his life felt like an actual human being.

He smiled to himself, thinking about how this wasn´t a dream, but he just had to make sure his mind didn´t play tricks on him.

So he leaned closer to you, interrupting your speech by grabbing your face gently and softly pressing his lips onto yours, muffling a surprised gasp of yours with a kiss.

And for goodness sake you would be damned if monsters kissed like that, made your knees melt like that. You pressed your body closer to his and wrapped your arms around his neck, deepening the kiss.

You never wanted it to end, fuck oxygen, if this was how you would die, then so be it, it´d be with a smile on your lips.

[another-gay-fanfic-blog]

In The Closet

Midnight is the best hour of the day. I slip on my invisibility cloak and wander the silent castle and grounds when I can manage to stay up. It's not allowed, but as long as I'm under the cloak I can stay out of trouble. It's my fourth year at Hogwarts, and I've just recently been named as the second Hogwarts champion. Ron isn't talking to me, otherwise I might bring him along with me at night. 

It seems as if Ron's not the only one who hates me for being the second champion either. I didn't sign up for the stupid tournament, honestly even if I had been allowed to enter I wouldn't have. I'm sick of the spotlight and the attention of being Harry Potter. At first when I learned I was famous it was exciting and fun, but very quickly it made my life hellish. The first task hasn't even started and already I get no time alone. 

Late night walks are the only peace I ever get now. It's nice to be able to walk around Hogwarts and be ignored. In the day I get lots of under the breath comments and angry glances. Malfoy has been an even bigger pain in the ass than ever, the mocking and taunting he starts has reached a new high. I wish Malfoy had been chosen as champion instead, maybe the dragons in the first task would eat him and I'd never have to watch another dramatic reenactment of my every mistake. 

I slip on the cloak and down into the common room, no one is awake, just the way I like it. I slip out the portrait whole and even though she can't see me the fat lady curses at me for waking her. I walk silently through the halls, even invisible if I'm not careful filch might get wind someone's out of bed and ruin this last bit of solitude for me. The castle is most beautiful at night, because I can explore and appreciate it. Even the portraits and paintings are asleep at this time. 

I'm turning a corridor when I hear someone, a familiar voice, but without the loud arrogant mocking in which I've always heard it I don't recognize who is speaking till I see him. The moment I see that slick white blonde hair I can feel the anger and frustration rise in me. Draco Malfoy, out to ruin the one good thing I have these days. I can't think straight, I don't go for my wand, just slip the cloak off and throw it behind the nearest statue. 

Before he has time to make a sound, I've lunged forward and thrown a punch. Draco dodges on reflex, shock in his grey eyes at the sight of me. His stupid pale face looks like it's missing some well deserved bruises, and all the frustration and anger bottled up inside me drives my actions. Draco is so stunned that he drops his wand and has to fight back with his hands. I land a solid punch to his left eye, and then he catches my stomach with a sharp blow. 

The air rushes out of my chest, but the anger only rises. I'm not thinking, and I slam my whole body towards his, trying to tackle him to the ground. It works, but we both go flying backwards into a closet left open. In our scuffle we manage to close the door, and are both plunged into darkness. After a few more minutes of fighting, we both tire out and separate. I collapse to the ground, and I can hear draco out of breath nearby. 

"What the hell Potter?!" Says Malfoy, more surprise in his tone than anger. 

"Really? You're surprised that I'd hit you after everything you've done? You deserve a good punch just for what you've been doing to me this week." I snort and roll my eyes, he can't see it, but I hope he can at least hear the eye roll in my tone of voice. 

"No, I'm always happy to hit you Potter. I'm just surprised you're out at night, now that you're Triwizard champion do you fancy yourself immune to all rules?" I could picture the sneer on his face with every word and it made me want to hit him again. "Or maybe you're hoping that filch will take you out himself so you don't have to face the shame of failing at the first task?" 

"Do you ever spend all your free time trying to think of new ways to prove you're obsessed with me?" I snap back, "You have a new way to torment me every hour," the last sentence is more bitter and quiet than anything. The anger has worn off and now I'm just feeling tired. 

"Whatever Potter, enjoy the closet." I hear Malfoy standing up and wait for the faint light of the hall when he got the door open, but it didn't come. I could hear him doing something, but the door stayed shut. "The doors locked." He said after a minute. 

"So?" I ask, we both know the spell to unlock doors all too well. 

"So I dropped my wand when you attacked me! Will you just come let us out?" He asked, sounding a bit embarrassed. I'd forgotten about that, and stood up reaching for my wand. Panic began to rise as I realized I too must have dropped my wand, because I didn't have it with me anymore. 

"My wands gone too," I say as I triple check my pockets and feel the ground to see if it might have just dropped in here. No such luck. 

"Wait, what?" Draco sounds just as freaked out as I am. "Are you saying we're stuck in here?" He asks. 

"We could yell for help," the idea coming to me suddenly. Someone is bound to hear after a while and come let us out. 

Draco snorts, "Yeah I'm sure filch will be thrilled to help us out." He says with thick sarcasm. My heart sinks as I realize he's right, the only one possibly awake and out at this time would be filch and his nasty cat. If he were to find us we'd be in astronomical trouble. I don't reply, just sit trying to wrap my head around the fact that I'm going to be stuck in this small dark closet with Draco Malfoy for hours. 

I hear Draco sit down near me and sigh deeply. He must be resigning himself to the terrible reality of our situation too. Of all the people to get stuck with, it had to be him. I actually had a bit of a crush on him back in the first year, but I've never told anyone. Between his constant harassment and Ron's obvious hatred of him I figured that was never going to pan out. He's just gotten crueler and crueler each year, so it wasn't hard to get over him. 

"Firewhiskey?" Draco asks after we've been sitting in silence for awhile.

"What?" I ask, not sure I've heard him right. 

"We were going to have a party in the Slytherin dorms tonight, but it didn't work out. I was going to hide the firewhiskey I'd gotten father to send when you attacked me, as long as we're trapped in here together, I figured I'd offer to share." He explains. 

"Oh, um okay." I say taken aback. "Thanks." 

He just pushes a bottle into my hands. "I have two, you can drink this one." He says and begins ratting around on the other side of the closet. I'm not really able to focus on whatever he's doing because this stuff is really strong and apparently Malfoy expects us both to drink a whole bottle each. I've never drank that much in my life, but I'm not about to be shown up by the prick. 

Suddenly a light flickers on, and I turn to see Malfoy with a lantern. We both look around the space around us, there's some bins of cleaning stuff and a few extra lanterns on a dusty shelf. I pull a bin up to sit on and a larger one to use as a makeshift table. Malfoy pulls up his own bin and sets his firewhiskey on the table I'd made by my bottle. 

"Doesn't look like anyone's used this for a long time," he says while running one long pale finger through over thick dust on the lantern. He brushes most of the dust off and the small room gets a bit brighter. He sets the lantern down and turns back to me. "Look, I know we hate each other and have this whole feud thing going on, but seeing as we're stuck till who knows when, let's have some fun." 

This whole night is getting stranger and stranger, but I'd also rather get along for the couple hours we're trapped in here. I nod in agreement, still just a bit too shocked to form coherent sentences. He opens his bottle and raises one thin carefully shaped eyebrow at me, waiting for me to follow suit. Nervous, but not willing to back down I do the same. He raises his bottle up and I copy silently. "Cheers," he says and takes a large swig.

Firewhiskey burns more than any alcohol I've ever tasted, I can tell how strong it is. I make a face after I set the bottle down and Malfoy laughs. "That was my reaction the first time I tried it too," says Malfoy. "Do you need to tap out Potter?" He teases, but it sounds a bit friendlier than his usual jabs. I narrow my eyes and take another, larger, swig from the bottle. 

"I can handle myself just fine Malfoy, I'm not a light weight either!" I say, it's a complete lie, but I would never be able to live with myself if I let Malfoy beat me in anything. His expression changes and he takes the implied challenge. We take about five shots each before I really am starting to feel it. I know it's a bad idea to have any more, but I'm still feeling competitive. Malfoy I guess could tell and decided to have mercy on me. 

"Alright Potter, let's take a break. This is your first time with firewhiskey after all." He says. I would normally object just because I'm proud, but I'm getting too drunk to be prideful. 

"Okay sounds good Draco," I realize my mistake and quickly correct myself. "Erm, Malfoy I mean." I say awkwardly.

"No, it's okay. How about first names just for tonight, we can go back to feud names after we get out." He laughs and looking at him, I'm starting to think that maybe he's feeling the firewhiskey too. 

"Okay, Draco then." I say, testing the name on my tongue. "Can I tell you something?" I ask, maybe it's because I'm drunk, but I find myself wanting to open up about the tournament. 

"Sure Harry." He replies, and my name sounds so strange coming from his mouth without malice. 

"I didn't sign up for the tournament. The first task is dragons- and I'm terrified. I think whoever put my name in might have been trying to kill me." I say, letting out all the worry I'd been trying so hard not to show in front of Hermione or any of the other Gryffindors.

"Father told me about that, honestly the whole tournament is insane. I don't really think you put your name in Harry, I saw your face when it was called. I just have to make fun of you cause you hate me or whatever" He said while looking down at his bottle. 

Harry watched him and felt a rush of emotion, someone actually believed him from the beginning and it was Malfoy? Then he processed the last words Draco said.

"Draco I only hate you, because you're so awful to me, if you weren't such a dick we might even be friends" I say slowly. How could he not know? He looked up in shock and finally our eyes met, he looked pissed.

"I am going to kill Pansy!" He says loudly and takes another big swig of the firewhiskey. I have no idea what he means, but he's ranting at this point. "Oh so I need to insult him to get his attention, huh? I've spent the last four years trying to get him to like me, and every time I've doubted myself it's the same advice!" He takes another drink and then begins to imitate his friend. 

"Oh Draco, he obviously hates you, you can't tell him! You have to play it cool, tease him more. Get his attention by insulting him and mocking him, maybe then he'll pay attention to you and start to like you!" He seems to have forgotten me entirely, and in his anger is reaching for the bottle again. He's had too much and without thinking I reach out to stop him. Our hands meet on the bottle and I blush. 

Draco is staring at me and I start to blush too. Maybe it's just the firewhiskey, or maybe it's just the light, I'm not really sure what he's mad at Pansy for, but I'm remembering how cute I've always found him. 

"Harry, can I tell you something?" He asks while looking into my eyes. I just nod, this light is casting shadows that highlight his cheekbones. I'm feeling less and less over him by the minute. "Harry, I've had a huge crush on you ever since we first met. After the first time you rejected me, on the train first year, I went back to my cabin and Pansy gave me advice on how to get your attention."

My jaw drops as I finally realize what he's saying. I don't know what to say, he just confessed his feelings for me. I lean in and kiss him, the feeling of his lips on mine makes my brain short out. I push the table out from between us and tangle my fingers in his hair. He pulls me closer and we fall to the ground. All I can think about is how right it feels. Soon I feel his cold hands on my chest as he pulls my shirt off.

We end up falling asleep curled up together in the closet that night, I'm not sure what we're going to do tomorrow when someone can finally get us out and finds us here. All I know is that we're going to figure it out together. I stroke Draco's hair as he sleeps in my arms, and I know that no matter what happens, I'm not blaming this on the firewhiskey. I never got over Draco either, and I'm glad I didn't. 

[beastlycheese]

Snow Globes

A Rumbelle Secret Santa fic for @rosexknight

Prompt: Dreaming of white Christmases

Mr Gold was crying.  He was hiding it well behind his sunglasses and the curtain of his long salt and peppered coloured hair. But if you dared to look his way you could see the odd tear escape and run down his pained face. The man who only ever snarled at you or cut you down with a sarcastic jibe was sat on the floor in the corner of the vets, a crumpled mess. His usually immaculate suit was creased beyond help, soiled with mud and grass stains.  His dog lay wheezing and twitching in his lap. The normally ruthless landlord whispered words of comfort to his bedraggled mutt while softly stroking the poor creature’s  black and golden mane.  

It was the fourth dog today brought into the overcrowded waiting room of Miss Green’s Veterinary Practice. One had been fitting on the floor while the nurses desperately tried to save it.  Another had been put to sleep as Gold had entered, cradling his dog and dragging his foot behind him, his cane unusually nowhere to be seen.

The little sign lit up again, “Please be quiet while we say goodbye to a beloved friend” it proclaimed. A sobbing owner handed over notes, the final indignity of an horrendous experience.  “You’ve ripped my heart out and now you want the last of my money too!” he managed to blurt out before grumpily stomping out of the side door. Miss Green smiled falsely and said “they sleep in peace now” to his departing back.  Her bright red hair clashed uncomfortably with her green overalls, she scanned the room hurriedly looking for her next patient.  Spotting Gold she paced towards him grasped his ailing dog and carried him away to the back, calling callously, “you will be called when we need you”.  Mr Gold  was too shocked and bereft to speak coherently, he desperately tried to get to his feet, but without his cane he struggled and slumped back to the floor.  The Beast of Storybrooke was officially broken.

---------

 Belle French was feeling brave.  She would sort this out herself, she could sort this out herself.  The closer she got into the centre of Storybrooke though, the more nervous she felt.  This was the furthest she had ever been from her sprawling house right on the edge of town, she couldn’t even see the tower of the convent anymore. Although she was grateful for that, she always felt that Mother Superior was spying on her, continuing to judge her.   She had spent her formative years in the convent, a ward to Mother Superior.  Her father had been committed to an insane asylum, her mother dead. The authorities had decided she was best off in their care and so it had been off to the nunnery for the young French girl taken away from her home and her father’s workshop.  She had hoped to stay with her father’s assistant, Jefferson.  He was also a brilliant inventor but seen as far too unpredictable to look after a young girl and as Mother Superior had warned, he was far too male, far too ungodly and not far from being dragged off to the asylum himself.  He had been too scared to fight it.  

Just thinking of Superior Holy Pants made Belle walk with extra purpose.  She clacked her high heels in defiance and swung her short, flared skirt from side to side.  That woman mistook intelligence and curiosity as evil, favoured ignorance and expected a rigid adherence to her version of the gospel.  Belle had seen no love or compassion for any living creature in that woman, instead she had found her hard and callous.  Thinking of all the lonely years spent in her cell in that convent made Belle shiver.  Her days had been filled with praying and cleaning, well mainly cleaning as Superior Pants had told her that no amount of praying would make Belle holy and cleanliness was her only saving grace.  Her favourite time of day was the exercise hour when she was allowed to wander the vast grounds.  Jefferson would always try and meet her, their secret conversations through hedges and bushes were always a highlight of her days, he would smuggle her in little treats and books and tell her of his latest inventions.  He had been the one to convince her to stand up to Mother and return to her father’s home.  It had taken a lot of courage to leave the safety of the convent behind. She was warned that if the Mayor ever caught her “out and about”, she would suffer the same fate as her father.

Now was the time to be brave again, she had arrived at her destination, the vets.  Belle took a big breath in, pulled back her shoulders and opened the door.

 ------

 The vets waiting room was dark and silent.  A few people sat, heads bowed, one man was slumped on the floor, the atmosphere was icy, however much the lone garish Christmas tree flashed cheerfully.  Before Belle even got to the reception desk a fiery red-haired woman burst into the room.

“Right, everyone OUT!” she snarled. “The mayor and I have declared a State of Emergency. Every dog in this town will be put into quarantine, all their belongings need to be destroyed.  I will be accompanying the Sheriff to make sure my orders are carried out.”

The man on the floor asked with a croaky voice, “Will I be able to see my d..”

The woman cut him off, “No Gold, your dog is diseased and, in a coma, get out and disinfect your house now, no exceptions.”

The waiting room started to disperse but as no one was assisting the man on the floor Belle went to help.  “Don’t help him, he’s a beast, he deserves to crawl out on his hands and knees.” One said with a huff.  Undeterred Belle crouched beside him and offered him her hands. Slowly they managed to get upright.  “I lost my cane trying carry my sick dog here” the man explained. “Thank you, Belle. Could I trouble you to help me to my shop, it’s just a few doors down, but I don’t think I can make it on my own.”

“Of course,” Belle replied, “I couldn’t believe how cruel the people in here were.”

“No doubt I deserve it, I am not an easy man to get along with my dear. My only friend was that dog and now he is gone!” Gold said bitterly.

Using Belle as a crutch they managed to get to his shop.  “So, I take it you must be Mr Gold” Belle said looking at the sign.

“Guilty as charged. And who may I ask is my rescuer, an angel you must be, fallen from heaven cursed to save the wicked?”

“Oh? I thought you knew who I was, you said my name as I helped to pick you up.”

“No, I couldn’t have,” said an incredulous Gold. “I don’t know you at all, which is very surprising because most of the residents of this town are my tenants.”

“I’m Belle French, I live out on the edge of town down past the convent.”

“Ah the inventor’s daughter.  I have heard tell of you. I thought you were,  erm ‘away’.”

“Oh, you mean locked away in the asylum like my crazy father.”

“No! Not like that I’m just surprised and confused and in a state of shock, you must forgive me, you have been so kind, I didn’t mean to offend.”

“No offence taken,” smiled Belle. “Now let me get you comfy and let’s see to your foot.”

“What? You dare enter the beast’s lair and care for this old cripple?”

“Oh, shush now,” smiled Belle as she ushered him in and looked around, “you are no beast, all I see is a heartbroken pet lover.”

“You are too kind. Help me through the curtain, I have a spare cane and seats there.”

Belle and Gold shuffled through to the back.  She was so intrigued by all the amazing trinkets in his shop and was desperate to ask questions.  There was a day bed and a workshop, Belle helped Gold sit on the bed and got his shoes off, Gold closed his eyes his face scrunched in pain.  His ankle was very scarred and terribly swollen.  

“We really need to get some ice on this, Mr Gold. Do you need some painkillers?”

“There are some in the top drawer of my desk Miss French.  Thank you.  Unfortunately, I have no ice.  But if I could trouble you to drop in to the diner at the end of the street, you could get some there.  Here take some cash and get yourself something to thank you for your kindness. Probably best not to mention it is for me.  The owner is not a fan.”

“What is wrong with the people in this town?” sighed Belle. “You have been nothing but courteous and gracious to me.  I hate to hear you speak about yourself like that. Does nobody recognise a fine gentleman here? And you can stop looking so surprised I now know why Jefferson told me to go to Gold’s if anything happened to him.” With that declaration Belle marched out on her quest to find ice.

“Yep Jefferson is crazy too,” sighed Gold, as he lay down in pain, anger and grief.

 ----

 Belle found the diner quickly. It was a hive of activity. There was a large queue, and everyone was talking animatedly about the dog crisis.  Apparently, the sheriff was out rounding up dogs, sometimes at gun point, since no one was willingly giving up their pets, especially if they were well.  No one seemed to have a good word to say about the vet or the mayor, who turned out be long-lost sisters.  A lady at the counter said she was a nurse at the vets and that Zelena, for that turned out to be the vet’s name, had been putting the dogs in her care into comas. She had said it was for their own good. The nurse was dubious about this, saying that the injection smelt like some “god-awful scrumpy” and that she was glad she only owned a cat.

Eventually she got to the front of the queue and was served by a white-haired lady with a badge that proclaimed her to be GRANNY.  Belle ordered hot tea for two, a cup full of ice for an injury to her friend and two specials, which turned out to be burgers and fries.  Granny peered at her over her glasses and said, “You’re the young lady helping out Gold aren’t you? Now normally I wouldn’t piss on that man to put out a fire on his trouser leg but I heard what happened to his dog and when push comes to shove, at the end of the day, it aint right and he deserves a break today. And today only mind.  But be careful girl you get yourself home safe and sharpish too. Don’t sign nothing. Now we only serve iced tea, coffee alright? ”

It was the other waitress, Ruby, that brought out her order.  She wore the shortest red skirt that Belle had ever seen and looked like a girl from one of the fashion magazines that Jefferson had bought her. She had bright red lip stick on and her nails were painted silver and red.

“I love your nails” gushed Belle, “they are so Christmassy.”

“Don’t tell anyone but they are actually to co-ordinate with my favourite drink” she said with a wink.  “Diet Coke, with just a dash of Bacardi in the top so Granny doesn’t judge too much. You were very brave helping Gold today no-one else would dare, but I’m glad you got him away from the Green witch.  No one deserves to be treated like that when they have just lost their dog.”

Belle thanked Ruby and hurried back to the Pawn Shop before the ice melted. She was feeling very proud of what she had achieved today.  She had made it into town and met a lot of the residents and maybe she had made a friend of Mr Gold.  She knew it was a bit silly having known him for such a short while, but she felt close to him already, yes, she was sorry for him but also highly attracted to the man, he seemed so dashing, like a character in one of her novels. She had only been out of the house for a couple of hours and she already had a crush. What would the sisters think of that!

 ----

 Belle found a towel to wrap the ice round Gold’s ankle and told him the news from the diner.  Gold was furious about Zelena, but in his current state felt unable to do anything about it.  He wasn’t on the greatest of terms with the mayor to say the least, their clashes at town council meetings were legendary.  He would get back his dog and if he couldn’t nurse it better then he would make sure it had a decent burial.  Obviously, he didn’t want to risk harming his dog if the vet could find a cure and bring them out of their comas, but something didn’t seem right about the whole business.  

He looked over at Belle, she was an absolute angel.  What had started off as one of the most terrible days of his life had seemed to be brightened by her presence.  She was the light in the darkness and yet also so familiar.  He wracked his brain trying to think if he had seen her before or maybe even a relative of hers.

“You look like you are enjoying that burger Miss French.”

“I am, it is my first ever one!  We were never allowed anything so decadent at the convent and Jefferson is a vegetarian, so I don’t tend to eat meat at all.  We mainly eat the vegetables we grow.  We have become quite self-sufficient and I have learnt how to bake bread and cakes too. We tend to try an avoid the town, especially the mayor.”

“Very wise.” Gold nodded and continued, “So, tell me Miss French what brought you out of hiding and into the vets this morning?  I did not see a pet with you.”

“Oh, please call be Belle, Mr Gold, calling me Miss French all the time just reminds me of Mother Superior.”

“Well Belle it is! I certainly don’t want to sound like her.”

“Why was I in the vets? Well, I couldn’t find Jefferson.  He does tend to go missing for days at a time. He gets these terrible headaches, starts talking nonsense.  Charming nonsense but crazy stuff like, I’m a princess that lives in a castle with a terrible beast and he must protect me until the beast returns to save us. As I said crazy fairy tale stuff.  I’m apparently in love with the beast, I think it is my name that probably sets him off and an addiction to watching Disney films. Anyway, he always insists on calling me Belle of Avonlea, Beastess of the Dark Castle!”

“Belle, are you safe? Does he get any help with these delusions?”

“Well he was seeing Dr Hopper, but I think I misunderstood what he meant by ‘seeing’…But I do feel safe, he is always very protective and an absolute gentleman.  It was  just that I needed help with my dragon.”

“Your dragon!” exclaimed Gold.

“Oh no, you are going to think I’m crazy too! It is the name of my parrot, a Norwegian Blue. He is called Dragon.  I can’t remember why.  Which is kind of ironic because he is always screeching “Remember” along with a lot of insults. Anyway, he does tend to lie up in the rafters, Jefferson says he is “pining for the fjords” but he usually comes down if I tempt him with treats. But he just won’t come down and he hasn’t eaten or drank for days and he is so still and quiet.  I need to get to him, but I have no ladder or net.  I just hoped the vets could help me somehow. Maybe he is sick.”

“Now calm down Belle.  I don’t think you are crazy I was just startled, because Dragon was, is, the name of my dog! I don’t remember why he is called that either.”

“Oh. What a coincidence Mr Gold!”

“I know! I will help you Belle. I may have to hop but I’m determined to save at least one Dragon today!”

 ------

 Belle and Gold managed to find a large net in the pawn shop and strap a ladder on top of his Cadillac.  They arrived at Belle’s house, a huge mansion on the edge of town.  Gold couldn’t believe he had ever seen it before.  She quickly ushered him into what must have been a large ball room. It was now crammed with weird contraptions, piles of junk, tools and unknown machines.  This must be where her father and Jefferson worked on their inventions Gold thought. The magnificent ceiling was vaulted with fine carved oak beams. Dragon was somewhere up there.

They managed to manoeuvre a ladder into place and were arguing about who should go up.

“There is no way that you are going up there in those heels MISS FRENCH” Insisted Gold. “I will not be able to catch you if you fall.”

“And you cannot go up there on one leg!” Responded Belle.

Their argument was interrupted by a loud screech and a magnificent blue parrot glided down from the roof, landing on Gold’s shoulder, and started chanting “Rumple, Rumple, Rumple home”.

“Dragon!” cried Belle. “He is safe and well and seems to love you! He never goes on anyone’s shoulder and he has never said that before.”

Gold did not reply immediately he just stood there startled and confused.  

“This is rather disconcerting Belle. Could you please remove your bird from my shoulder?”

“I don’t think I can. He has his claws really dug into your suit Mr Gold.”

While Belle tried to prise Dragon off Gold’s shoulder the parrot started to chant again.

“Snow globes, snow globes, snow globes”

“Belle what is going on?  What does this creature mean, snow globes?”

“Ah, well, I do have a snow globe. It’s a bit embarrassing really, it is kind of my prized possession.  It was my only ornament in my cell at the convent.  It was like my treasure, my escape, it has a beautiful little log cabin inside I used to shake it and dream of white Christmases, snuggled up in the cabin by a roaring fire with my prince, sipping hot chocolate and roasting chestnuts.  It was a silly girl’s little dream to escape from my cell for a while.”

“It doesn’t sound silly Belle. But why is the parrot still going on about it?”

As if to emphasise the point Dragon bobbed up and down screeching even louder.

“Snow globes, snow globes, snow globes.”

“Well Dragon is somewhat obsessed by it, but he tries to crack it open with his beak, so I have had to put it into a case.”

“Rumple, Rumple, Rumple home”.

“Would I be able to see it ?”

“Snow globes, snow globes, snow globes.”

“Yes of course. It is just over here.”

“We are all crazy here! Wanna make a deal, wanna make a deal”

“Does this thing ever shut up?”

“I am so sorry Mr Gold, I really am, honestly he doesn’t usually make such a fuss.  I really don’t know what has got into him.”

Belle opened a glass fronted cabinet and handed Gold an antique looking snow globe.  He turned it over and examined it carefully.

“Well, Miss French..Belle, I am not an expert in globes but this is very interesting, quite old, I really can’t date it. The first globe was invented by Erwin Perzy in 1900, in Austria, but this looks older, which is obviously not possible…

Dragon chose this moment to loosen his grip on Gold’s shoulder and lunged at the globe knocking it onto the floor. Gold managed to grapple it away from the irate bird and looked at it in horror.

“Belle I’m so sorry, it is chipped.”

He could see Belle tearing up and did not know how to comfort her, but he was soon concerned by a bigger problem.  A purple gas was leaking out of the chip in the top of the globe.  They were soon engulfed in the choking smoke and passed out, falling to the ground.

 -----

 When they awoke, they were surrounded by snow and pine trees.  A quaint log cabin lay in front of them along a long snowy path glistening in an ethereal light.

“Rumpelstiltskin!” cried Belle

“My love, my Belle, my wife!” replied Rumpelstiltskin.

They ran into each other’s arms, kissing, hugging, crying.

“The curse, the curse has broken. I remember Rumpel. I remember our deal, falling in love, getting married and the curse to find your son.  But why are we here? This is not the land without magic, this is the cabin where we went for our honeymoon.”

“I know, my love, this is all wrong.  This was not how the curse should have worked.  I made last minute adjustments, so we would be together, but this is not right. That darned witch must have meddled too. Jeez Belle, you were trapped in that cell, for all those years! I will kill her, she promised me! She also brought her sister with her.  I didn’t even know she knew about Zelena!”

“The dragons!” cried Belle. “Rose and Thorn, where are they? Are they safe?”

“Well Rose managed to break that globe and wake us up, though when we find her you are going to have to grovel she is going to be mad with you.”

“Oh Rumpel, how was I know how to sex a parrot? It was not on the curriculum at the convent. But Rumpel I’m freezing! We are not dressed for snow, let’s get to the cabin and work this all out in the warm.”

They rushed along the path arm in arm towards their cabin.  Smoke was coming from the chimney but on inspection their hideaway was empty. It was absolutely like it had been during their honeymoon, even the same flowers were on the table surrounded by their wedding morning buffet. It was untouched and still fresh. Not being worried by magical phenomenon they sat down, hand in hand, drinking piping hot chocolate and eating pastries.

“This is my favourite memory Rumpel” confessed Belle.  Our cabin, in a winter wonderland, being together you and me, no crazy princes or witches, no curses, just you and me in paradise.”

“And there it was trapped inside a snow globe that even your cursed self treasured,” added Rum.

“You know when I looked at it, in your house, your name, Belle of Avonlea was written on the bottom.”

“I had seen that,” said Belle. “I thought Jeff had written it.  I have another confession. I actually stole it. Mother superior has thousands of snow globes locked in a room in the convent. It was one of my jobs to dust and polish them.  I didn’t think she would miss one.  It just spoke to me, I had to take it.”

“Thousands of these things, you say love?  What is the Blue Fairy up to? How is she connected to the curse? Is she in cahoots with Regina?  How do we get back to Storybrooke?  And more importantly where is Bae? I really don’t know what to do Belle.”

Rumpel looked confused  and a bit heartbroken. His plans were in tatters.  He was reunited with his love but back in the Enchanted Forest and still no closer to finding his boy.

Belle smirked and looked saucily at her husband.

“I know exactly what we do. You owe me Rumpel.  I didn’t forget your promise.  You said that everything was sorted that we would be together in the land without magic.  We wouldn’t be separated, we may not have our memories, but we would still be in each other’s arms. Do you remember what you promised me if things went wrong master?”

“Oh Belle, no! Not now.”

“I know you need this master, there are somethings you cannot hide! Now strip! Mistress Underlea needs to be worshipped.”

Belle admired the naked and now only slightly sparkly body of her husband as he stood erect before her.  She grabbed him by his engorged penis and pulled him along by it towards their marital bed.

 -----

 The loving couple were still lying entwined in bed feeling  very satisfied when they heard a loud banging on the cabin door.  

“Rumpelstitlskin come out I know you are in there!” It was the unmistakeable cry of Regina, evil queen and curse caster.

The couple quickly dressed and joined the former mayor on the porch.

“How have you opened this portal Dark One?” snarled the queen.

“None of your business Regina, what did you do to our curse?  You promised me comfort and Belle.”

“Oh, please Rumpel. You telling me you didn’t put in a few tweaks here and there that I didn’t agree to?  What is this portal and why have you brought magic back to Storybrooke?  This is not my happy ending.”

-----

Epilogue

 In the end after a lot of snarking the former apprentice agreed to work with her teacher.  She would lead them back to Storybrooke and they would both confront the Blue Fairy and try and wake the animals from their sleeping curse.

It turned out that the Blue Fairy had crossed them all. Her magic beans did not take anyone to the land without magic, they kept them sealed in time and space inside a snow globe.  Rumple was reunited with Bae, the Nolans with their daughter Emma, Regina with Daniel. The Enchanted Forest residents were all reunited with their loved ones in Storybrooke and everyone lived happily ever after.  

Apart from the Blue Fairy who angrily flitted about inside of a snow globe with Zelena who was permanently green with rage because no one should separate people from the people or animals that they love.

Notes

I deeply apologise for the abrupt ending. Time beat me and I wanted to make sure you received your gift on time.  Merry Christmas!

[pikapeppa]

Fenris/f!Hawke: The Right Moment

To kick off @dadrunkwriting​ Friday, I picked two prompts for myself: “How long did you think we could do this?” and “You’re so cute when you’re grumpy.” (The latter is sooOoOOoo Fenris.)

Read on AO3 instead. 

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

“Yes,” Hawke whispered.

Fenris inhaled leisurely. Without opening his eyes, he murmured, “You can’t go on much longer.”

“I can,” she breathed. “Just… give me time… oh fuck.”

A soft clink of coins and a surprised mrow filtered into Fenris’s ears. He cracked open one eye just in time to see the stray cat roll onto its belly on the carpet, shedding the pile of coppers that Hawke had so painstakingly piled on its belly while it was sleeping.

The cat gave Hawke a deeply affronted look, then darted away up the stairs. Fenris smirked and closed his eyes again, then folded his arms behind his head. “How long did you think we could do this?”

“We?” she said archly. “There’s no ‘we’ about it. I made it to thirteen coppers without any help from you, thank you very much.”

“You’re right,” Fenris replied. “I don’t know why I would insert myself into such a foolish affair. This ridiculous excuse for a pastime was entirely your making.”

“Damn right,” she agreed cheerfully. “Now help me catch the cat before Anders gets here.”

“No,” Fenris replied. He flexed his toes; the warmth from the fire in Hawke’s study felt nice against his bare feet.

There was a brief silence, then Hawke tutted loudly. “You unhelpful lazy slob. Remind me why I let you in my house?”

“I can leave if you’d prefer,” he offered lazily.

“No no,” Hawke grumbled. “Make yourself comfortable. Lie there like a lump. See if I care.” She flicked his earlobe as she pushed herself to her feet.

“Ouch,” he mumbled, not bothering to open his eyes as she wandered away. Fenris listened with amusement as she alternately cursed and cajoled the cat, and eventually a peaceful silence fell.

Then something heavy and soft with four little feet landed on his chest.

He grunted with surprise, then opened his eyes and glared up at Hawke as the equally offended cat leapt off of his chest and took refuge on Hawke’s desk chair.

The cheeky mage stared down at him, a smirk on her face and her hands on her hips. Fenris scowled at her for a moment longer, then closed his eyes again. “You’re being particularly obnoxious tonight,” he remarked. “You must be bored.”

“Quite the contrary,” she said, her voice drawing close as she settled herself on the carpet beside him. “I’m vastly entertained by your crabbiness, as always. You’re so cute when you’re grumpy.”

He scowled more deeply. “Small children and nugs are considered cute. I am not cute.”

She chuckled. Her voice was even closer now, as though she was lounging beside him, and a tingle of warm contentment bloomed beneath his skin at her proximity.

“Now you’re just fishing for more compliments,” she said. “Fine, you’re a sexy specimen of a man, is that better?” She poked him in the ribs.

He swatted at her hand, then opened his eyes to look at her sternly. “Don’t.”

She rolled onto her side, propping herself up on her elbow to grin down at him. “Fenris, are you ticklish?”

He frowned at her. “I don’t know,” he said honestly. “But I don’t want - Hawke, don’t you dare-” He snatched her wrist as her mischievous finger made its way toward his ribs again.

“Oh my. I bet you are ticklish!” she crowed. But before she could do anything else, Fenris released her wrist and pinched her waist.

She squawked and twisted away from him as he rolled onto his side to face her. “Hey!”

“You might suspect that I’m ticklish, but I know that you are,” he drawled. “Don’t trifle with me.” He swiftly pinched the other side of her waist.

Hawke squeaked and then burst into laughter. She was so ridiculous, a grown woman lying on the floor with her knees pulled up to her chest and her dark hair spilling around her head like a chaotic halo while she laughed with utter abandon.

She was so damned lovely, and Fenris just stared at her for a moment with a helpless smile stretching across his face.

“Erm, I can come back later if you’d prefer some privacy…?”

The smile slid off of Fenris’s face at the sound of Anders’s voice. He pushed himself into a sitting position and jerked his chin at Anders in a passable imitation of a greeting.

Hawke, meanwhile, rolled leisurely onto her side to face them and propped her cheek on her fist. “Hello, Anders. No privacy needed. Or you could join us.” She wiggled her eyebrows salaciously and patted the carpet between herself and Fenris.

“No,” Anders and Fenris said, loudly and in tandem.

Hawke threw her head back in a throaty laugh, then lay back on the floor again and waved her hand vaguely toward her desk. “Your new furry friend is there. She’ll be heartbroken that you’re taking her away from Fenris, though. I think she likes him.” She tossed a cheeky smile at Fenris, who rolled his eyes.

“I’m sure she does,” Anders muttered, then hurried over to Hawke’s desk and tenderly lifted the cat. “Come here, sweetheart,” he crooned. “I’ll keep you safe.” He made his way back toward the door with the cat contentedly curled in his arms. “Thank you, Hawke. I’ll take good care of her. See you tomorrow, then?”

“Yep! See you,” she said with a lazy wave.

Anders smiled at her and gave Fenris a stiff nod of farewell, and then Fenris and Hawke were alone again.

She sighed happily, and Fenris slowly settled onto his back as well, his hands resting comfortably on his stomach. He gazed vacantly up at the ceiling in a sort of lazy reverie for a moment.

Then he snapped out his hand and grabbed Hawke’s wrist as she sneakily tried to poke him again. “Don’t. I will make you sorry,” he threatened.

She let out a light and sultry little laugh. “Ooh. Punish me, will you? That’s something I’d like to see.”

He released her wrist and snorted softly. “You’re absurd.”

She sighed happily and crossed her ankles, folding one arm comfortably behind her head. “So I’ve been told. Rynne ‘Absurd’ Hawke, that’s what they call me. I should make it my legal middle name. D’you think the Viscount would sign off on the paperwork?”

“Shut up, Hawke,” Fenris drawled.

She snickered, and they fell quiet again until the only sounds were the crackling of the fire and Toby’s snuffling canine snores from the main room.

Eventually she spoke into the cozy silence. “I’m waiting for your cue. Just so you know.”

His stomach gave a tiny flip of nervous excitement. He turned his head to look at her. Her eyes were closed, her lips curled in a little smile, and she looked utterly relaxed.

“I… appreciate your patience,” he said quietly. “As much as I am surprised by it.”

Her smile widened slightly at his dig, but she didn’t open her eyes. “Give me a bit of credit, Fenris. I can be patient when I try really hard.” She chuckled and stretched her arms leisurely, drawing his errant gaze to the subtle shifting lines of her body, then flopped her arms onto the carpet at her sides. “I like to think of this as foreplay.”

“Hmm,” Fenris murmured pointedly. Hawke grinned broadly at the heated implication in his tone, but she said nothing more, and eventually Fenris closed his eyes as well. But thoughts of Hawke continued to swim behind his eyelids.

Things had remained normal between them since he’d admitted that he wanted to sleep with her, their arguments and flirting continuing with their usual frequency. Fenris was grateful that nothing had changed, but at the same time, he was growing increasingly frustrated by the lack of change.

Frustrated at himself.

Hawke wanted him. He wanted Hawke. Both of them knew it. It should be simple. So why was he hesitating at moving their relationship into something more physical?

Before he’d told Hawke he wanted her, his fantasies of her had been torrid and uninhibited and easy. Now that he’d told her, his sensual imaginings were more heated than before, but somehow more nerve-wracking - probably because they could imminently come to life. But why did the idea of getting naked with Hawke make him feel like he’d be baring something more than just his sullied skin?

He sighed, actively pushing his disquiet aside. There was no rush. Besides, there was something undeniably enjoyable about the rising tension between the two of them. The anticipation, the heightened sense of possibility and his own heightened awareness of her body whenever she was close by: it was… pleasant to feel such happy anticipation for something. He couldn’t remember feeling this kind of eager wanting before.

Fenris felt good. Chasing Hawke in this quiet, subtle way felt fucking good, and feeling good was so novel to him. It was no great hardship to wait for the right time to make his move.

And yet, this moment now, lying in front of the fire with her…

This moment was pretty damned perfect. Hawke’s study was the one place in Kirkwall where Fenris felt the most at ease. And Hawke was stretched out beside him, firelight flickering over her bare legs and shadows highlighting the curves of her body, and her dark wavy hair spread across the carpet…

He inhaled slowly and calmly, suddenly conscious of the closeness of her hand resting between them on the carpet - and his own hand on the carpet as well, a mere finger-length from her own. All he had to do was reach for her. Slide his fingertips over her open palm, twine his fingers between hers, feel the softness of her palm against his own…

Would it be so bad, to make a move now? To hold her hand? To roll closer to her, maybe slide his other hand along the gentle arch of her neck, and then-

“Rynne, love? Can you give me a hand?”

Fenris jerked his hand back to his stomach at the distant sound of Leandra’s voice. Hawke sighed, then pushed herself into a sitting position. “Coming, Mother,” she called, and she trotted out of the room.

Fenris regretfully watched her go, then folded his arms behind his head. So much for the right moment, he thought ruefully. But he wasn’t entirely disappointed.

He’d waited for three years already. He could wait a little longer.

[hysterialevi]

Lotus pt. 3 (Batjokes)

Author’s note: I’m honestly blown away by the amount of support you guys are giving me, and I’m overjoyed that you’re loving this story so much. I don’t think any of my fics have ever been this successful, and I’m glad to see that this is as exciting for you as it is for me. As always, enjoy :)

From John’s POV

THE FUNHOUSE - ONE DAY LATER

“I’ll always have your back, John,” I mimicked in my lowest voice possible. “I promise! You can trust me -- Bruce Wayne. You know, the guy who betrayed you on the bridge when you needed me most and turned out to be an undercover agent? Yeah, nothing shady about me whatsoever! It’s not like every word I say is a complete lie or anything! I’ll be your best buddy forever! Pinky swear!”

Willy peered at me from a nearby table, interrupting his game of cards with Frank as he eyeballed the doll.

“How long are you gonna play with that thing?” He whined. “It don’t even look like the man that much. It’s also kinda creepy.”

“Shut up!” I exclaimed back at him, pointing a finger. “Brucie and I are having a very important conversation at the moment, and you are not invited. Not to mention it’s rude to call him creepy. Then again, it’s also rude to cut fabric from someone’s suit behind their back just to make a doll of them, but I’m his friend! There’s an understanding between us, you got that?”

Frank jumped in. “His friend? I thought we were trying to kill Bruce.”

“Not kill,” I specified. “At least, not yet. Just...beat to a pulp. If that’s even possible. Besides, you’re telling me you’ve never wanted to kill any of your friends before?”

Frank flicked his eyes around the room awkwardly, unsure of what to say. “Um...not really, no.”

I scoffed, leaning back in my chair. “Then you’re not truly friends.”

I turned to the doll again, tidying up its yarn hair. “Sorry about that, buddy. Tsk, people can be so inconsiderate sometimes. It’s like no one has manners these days. I think it’s something in the water. Gotham’s always had a weird smell to it. Anyways -- where were we?”

Before I could continue, a woman’s voice called out to me in a sing-song tone. “Yoohoo! Puddin!” 

I rolled my eyes at the second interruption, letting out a breath.

“Can’t a man and his arch-nemesis just have a chat in peace?”

Harley walked up to me, crossing her arms in annoyance. “Well, if ya love him so much, then why don’t cha go talk to the real Bruce? We’ve been sitting here for ages. I’m getting bored, sweetie. I want some action. And more importantly, I wanna find that survivor.”

I pouted, flopping the doll onto the table’s surface out of frustration. “I don’t know where he is though! No one’s seen him for the past three days! And he’s definitely not at Wayne Enterprises. It’s not like him to just...hide when there’s so much crime running rampant. I wonder if he’s okay...”

I gasped, slapping a hand over my mouth as a worrying thought struck my mind. 

“Oh no--” I blurted out, “what if we accidentally killed him with the bomb?”

Harley glared at me. “What about it? Why does it matter? Good riddance, I say.”

“Erm -- right!” I quickly covered, clearing my throat. “I just...I just wanted to play with him a bit more, y’know? No fun in winning by default.”

Harley’s glare didn’t disappear, but she let the subject go.

Pushing myself away from the table, I stood up and held a finger in the air as an idea popped in my mind.

“I know! I’ll check if he’s home -- pay a visit at that fancy manor of his. I’ve actually never been inside. It’ll be interesting to see.”

Harley took my seat, resting her feet on top of the table and kicking the doll aside. “What, you think Bruce will just let ya in?”

I prepared my gadgets, including the Batarang Bruce gave me a while ago as I felt my heart sink at the sight, attaching them all to my belt. 

“Don’t you worry about me, babe,” I assured, winking confidently as I headed out to my car. “He’ll never know I was there. I’ll be as quiet as church mice.”

WAYNE MANOR

Pulling up to the colossal, gloomy manor and parking in the spacious driveway, I instantly hopped out and made a beeline for the front porch, admittedly eager to see my ex-friend for some reason. 

Despite our past arguments and all the conflict that was currently going on between us, I couldn’t help but kind of...miss Bruce. He had been a part of my life for so long that, it just felt weird to have him suddenly drop out. I wondered if he was ignoring me on purpose. Trying to act like I meant nothing to him. Perhaps he thought that would push me away? Or maybe he thought I would just get bored of chasing him eventually.

Well, he was terribly mistaken.  As much as I cared about Bruce, someone had to pay for his betrayal on the bridge. We used to be in the same stitch -- best buddies for life -- but now, he had gone and torn us apart. I wasn’t going to let him get away with that. Not even justice was above being sentenced, and it was high time he learned that.

Peeking in through the tall, luxurious windows, I didn’t see any sign of Bruce -- or of anyone else for that matter -- and his butler, Alfred, had made himself scarce. The inside was actually rather dark, and it looked like no one had been home for days. It almost looked...abandoned. 

I was starting to get anxious. Where was he? Was he even still in Gotham? Or did he find a way to escape? I decided to investigate the area for clues.

Using the Phalanx Key we stole from Bruce’s vault, I unlocked the front doors and subtly slipped inside, quietly shutting the entrance behind me as a gust of wind rushed through. The temperature seemed to drop by ten degrees as soon as I walked in, and this unsettling feeling of loneliness sat heavily in the air. It reminded me of the subway station, and I hated it.

Aimlessly wandering around the manor for a while, I gazed upwards and admired the eloquent designs on the ceiling along with the number of chandeliers dangling around, my mouth hanging open in awe. The furniture alone in this place could’ve bought a second manor, and the building itself just screamed “Gotham royalty.” I wondered if anyone ever helped Bruce “fill up” the space. After all, the women in this city seemed to adore the billionaire playboy, and it honestly surprised me that Bruce had never been married. The guy had to love someone.

Then again, they could’ve been dead or something. It seemed like most of his friends were.

Accidentally stepping on a remote that had been sitting on the floor, I jumped as a large TV suddenly flashed on, the news rambling on about all the havoc blowing up in Gotham right now. Robberies, murders, people not daring to step foot outside because of the Lotus threat...it was all music to my ears. I explored the manor more.

Averting my focus to an impressive bookshelf standing behind me as the news carried on, I found myself strangely intrigued and began to explore its contents, trailing my fingers along the books’ spines.

Judging by the almost perfect condition of a lot of these books, I assumed that Bruce hadn’t actually read most of them...and I didn’t blame him. These genres were atrocious. Banking? Academics? Budgeting? What was a billionaire doing with a book about budgeting? These must’ve belonged to his father, back when he was still amassing his insane wealth by picking the entire city clean. I moved on from these texts, travelling elsewhere in the bookshelf.

Standing on my tippy-toes, I noticed a lone, intricate music box occupying the very top shelf, hiding away from sight. It appeared rather new, actually, and it looked like no one had used it yet. I took the music box into my hands.

What was this? I asked myself, gently placing it on a nearby end table. It looked like a gift for someone. Maybe Bruce did have a significant other, after all. Who was it though? The cat lady? Probably. Or it could’ve been for his new best friend, Agent Avesta. I carefully opened the music box and wound it up, examining the inside as I listened to its haunting yet beautiful melody.

The song it played sounded like a romantic waltz for two ghosts, and the emptiness of the manor only enhanced its eerie chimes -- but I couldn’t deny that I felt at peace when I heard it. It was almost like...Bruce thought of me when choosing this song. It fit perfectly.

As for the music box itself, the outside had been decorated with a smooth coat of black paint, and there were highlights of silver designs tracing around it, sort of like a frame. The inner parts however, were much more vibrant. In the center, there was a small, spinning ballerina holding a rose close to her chest, and the space around her was cushioned by purple and green velvet. As for the upper lid, I could see a short, engraved message shimmering in the dim light, reflecting the velvet’s colors. I squinted my eyes, reading the silver calligraphy:

“You’re my light outside of Arkham. --Bruce”

I paused, scratching my head. Why did that sound so familiar? Where had I heard that sentence before? I could’ve sworn someone else said that once. I backtracked through my memories.

Wait a minute.

That was what I said to Bruce back at the cafe, when I pretended to be talking to Harley. Why did he write it down here? He wasn’t...he wasn’t trying to steal Harley away from me, was he? With my own phrase, no less. I laughed to myself. She would never pair up with someone like him. Especially not after the way he betrayed me.

But...what if it wasn’t for Harley? What if...what if it was for--

“--Breaking news,” the TV suddenly blurted out, interrupting my thoughts and causing me to jump again. I turned towards the wide monitor, curious to see what happened.

The same old reporter, Jack Ryder, adjusted his glasses in a grim manner, clearly upset about something.

“This just in,” he announced morosely. “Billionaire and CEO Bruce Wayne has been confirmed dead after battling with the Lotus virus -- a result of the Joker’s attack on Wayne Enterprises three days ago.”

My heart froze in place and I nearly fainted on the spot, taking a second to comprehend what I just heard.

What did he say? B-Bruce was...dead? No, no. That couldn’t be right. They had to be mistaken. I hastily changed the channel, only to come across another news station. There were two reporters this time, sitting side by side as they read off the teleprompter.

“--Well, enough about the weather,” one of them said in a joking manner, switching the subject, “I think all you folks out there joining us today will be far more interested in another topic. A topic relating to one of Gotham’s most prominent citizens. You see, mere moments ago, the CEO of Wayne Enterprises -- Bruce Wayne himself -- was confirmed dead after falling victim to the notorious Lotus virus. Apparently, he managed to survive the virus’s fatal symptoms for an entire three days before finally succumbing to it earlier this morning.”

I hurriedly changed the channel again, the remote trembling in my hand as I shivered from shock, unable to process the news. There was no way Bruce could be dead. The man was practically invincible. A puny little virus couldn’t kill him...right?

But no matter how hard I tried to escape, or how many different reporters I listened to, every single one of them talked about the same thing. In fact, I was flipping through the channels so fast, it started to sound like they were finishing each other’s sentences.

“Philanthropist and entrepreneur Bruce Wayne has passed away--”

“--he was killed by the Lotus virus--”

“--The Agency is still investigating the attack--”

“--who is the Joker, and why did he kill Bruce Wayne?”

“--A service will be held at Divinity Church--”

“--What will happen to Wayne Enterprises now?”

“--no survivors were accounted for during the Joker’s assault--”

“--yet another life taken in this tragic war. The only question now is--”

“--We all have to wonder--”

“--Bruce Wayne’s death has left the city wondering--”

“Who will the Joker go after next?”

Steadily backing away from the TV in horror, the remote slipped from my grasp as my body came to a halt and I felt myself struggling to breathe, my entire world collapsing around me within a matter of minutes.

I. Killed. Bruce. I actually...killed. Bruce. This was all my fault. He died because of me. This was all. My. Fault.

Burying my face in my hands, my eyes began to water as I slid to the floor out of helplessness and suddenly realized why Bruce had been missing for so long, the thought stabbing me right through the chest. He was never hiding like I suspected. He wasn’t playing games with me, or trying to trick me like my paranoia insisted. The whole time, my closest friend had been dying...and I did nothing to stop it. 

I mean, I wanted him to pay for what he did to me, and I was still beyond furious...but I never meant for this to happen. I never actually wanted him to die. I violently shook my head, nearly ripping my hair out. Oh god...what had I done?

“...Bruce,” I whimpered, as if he could hear me, “I’m...so sorry. I just wanted...I just wanted to be loved by you. I never thought it would go this far. I’m so sorry.”

Curling up into a ball, I shut out the world around me and rocked back and forth as the music box’s melody continued to echo throughout the manor’s walls, softly lulling me to sleep. Bruce bought the box for me, didn’t he? I could see that now. I was Bruce’s light outside of Arkham, and I let him die alone in the dark when he needed me most.

I clenched my fist, tears streaming down my face. 

Even though there was no one else to blame for Bruce’s death but myself, I still felt the sudden urge to make Waller pay for all the pain and suffering she put him through. I didn’t know why, but my gut told me the Agency had something to do with this, and I intended to bring them to justice. The right way this time.

Waller killed the Riddler, she nearly killed me, and now, I was more than certain she killed Bruce too. It was high time someone put her and her corrupt organization down, and I was going to do everything in my power to make sure that happened.

Not for me, and certainly not for Gotham...

...but for Bruce.

[shadydreamerdonut]

4 am

@geek4lgbtq​ thank you for keeping me company ^_^ 

1: when you have cereal, do you have more milk than cereal or more cereal than milk?                                                                                         More milk 

2: do you like the feeling of cold air on your cheeks on a wintery day? Very much

3: what random objects do you use to bookmark your books              Leaves and receipts 

4: how do you take your coffee/tea? Very sweet 

5: are you self-conscious of your smile? Sometimes 

6: do you keep plants? Sure 

7: do you name your plants? Who doesn’t?

8: what artistic medium do you use to express your feelings?                       All of the above.

9: do you like singing/humming to yourself? Yep, 

10: do you sleep on your back, side, or stomach? Tummy flop! 

11: what's an inner joke you have with your friends? *fidgets nervously* 

12: what's your favorite planet? Saturn. 

13: what's something that made you smile today? @geek4lgbtq again. 

14: if you were to live with your best friend in an old flat in a big city, what would it look like? A mix of both an artist’s studio and a coffee shop. 

15: go google a weird space fact and tell us what it is! *yawns* 

16: what's your favorite pasta dish? I love noodle soup. 

17: what color do you really want to dye your hair? Blue like the sky. 

18: tell us about something dumb/funny you did that has since gone down in history between you and your friends and is always brought up. When I tried to walk from my therapist’s office to school. 

19: do you keep a journal? what do you write/draw/ in it? YesYesYes

20: what's your favorite eye color? Blue! Like mine. 

21: talk about your favorite bag, the one that's been to hell and back with you and that you love to pieces. This cross-shoulder bag that my brother was getting rid of-It’s been to surgeries and classes and national estates.  

22: are you a morning person? I’m a mix of night owl and early bird. 

23: what's your favorite thing to do on lazy days where you have 0 obligations? Go for walks and write in my diary, visit a bookstore. 

24: is there someone out there you would trust with every single one of your secrets? A couple actually, I’m very fortunate that way. 

25: what's the weirdest place you've ever broken into? A church. 

26: what are the shoes you've had for forever and wear with every single outfit? Well, I had gray-converse that I wore all throughout high-school. But for the most part since college I’ve been wearing the same boots. 

27: what's your favorite bubblegum flavor? Bubble-mint. 

28: sunrise or sunset? Sunrise. 

29: what's something really cute that one of your friends does and is totally endearing? Constantly readjusts her hair in twenty different ways. 

30: think of it: have you ever been truly scared? At least once a day ^^; 

31: what is your opinion of socks? do you like wearing weird socks? do you sleep with socks? do you confine yourself to white sock hell? really, just talk about socks. I like to wear socks with shoes and around the house, but if I’m going to sleep then I take them off. I love socks with cats on them, or anything particularly cute. I also love knee-highs. 

32: tell us a story of something that happened to you after 3AM when you were with friends. My sister and I played air-hockey while watching an Azumanga Daioh marathon on YouTube #2008, it was so surreal, mann. 

33: what's your fave pastry? Blueberry Muffie or Banana muffie or a chocolate cornet. 

34: tell us about the stuffed animal you kept as a kid. what is it called? what does it look like? do you still keep it? What kind of question is this? Of course I still have the same stuffie I slept with when I was 12 and have since expanded the family and now have a clan of soft companions who protect and support me. 

35: do you like stationary and pretty pens and so on? do you use them often? Yep. 

36: which band's sound would fit your mood right now? Lol Radiohead. 

37: do you like keeping your room messy or clean? Organized messiness.

38: tell us about your pet peeves! I don’t like adults who act like they’re an adult if you know what I mean. 

39: what color do you wear the most? I like wearing soft colors. 

40: think of a piece of jewelry you own: what's it's story? does it have any meaning to you? A beaded bracelet from my sister. 

41: what's the last book you remember really, really loving? What is all but luminous by Art Garfunkel (I went and even got it signed!) 

42: do you have a favorite coffee shop? describe it! The biology building. 

43: who was the last person you gazed at the stars with? My Dad. 

44: when was the last time you remember feeling completely serene and at peace with everything? Earlier riding in the car. 

45: do you trust your instincts a lot? It’s tricky. 

46: tell us the worst pun you can think of. Heromeownie and Meowfy 

47: what food do you think should be banned from the universe? None. 

48: what was your biggest fear as a kid? is it the same today? Erm... 

49: do you like buying CDs and records? what was the last one you bought? I listen to most of my music digitally. But I do have all of Regina spektor’s music on vinyl as well as God help the Girl. 

50: what's an odd thing you collect? Tsum Tsums & books 

[melt-your-headache-call-it-home]

Rules: Once you’ve been tagged you are supposed to write 92 truths about yourself, and at the end, chose 25 people to tag

i was tagged by @goldun-days thank you bby<3

LAST:

1.) drink: Tropicana smooth orange juice

2.) phone call: Arran

3.) text messages: Arran as well lmao

4.) song you listened to: State of Dreaming by Marina And The Diamonds

5.) time you cried: last week 

HAVE YOU EVER

6.) dated someone twice: Yeah when i was like 14/15 mainly cause Tom was nice and i got guilted by my friends into it. It was chill tho only for 3 months the first time and a week the second lol It’s chill we bros now lmao

7.) been cheated on: Most probably, i mean all the signs were there but they werent gonna admit it so they blanked it instead (i used to date proper cunts)

8.) kissed someone and regretted it: Ermm yeah mainly cause it’d be truth or dare and they’d be sloppy lmao

9.) lost someone special: Noooope and i dont ever want to thanks

10.) been depressed: ooooo bby idk...yeah 24/7

11.) gotten drunk and thrown up: Yeah and its like either weirdly relieving or im screeching like pterodactyl and crying 

LIST 3 FAVORITE COLORS:

12.) Blue

13.) Pastel black 

14.) Blue

IN THE LAST YEAR HAVE YOU…

15.) made new friends: yeah i have!!!

16.) fallen out of love: nah boi still love my guy arran, my dude

17.) laughed until you cried: Erm ive laughed so hard my eyes water and i cant breath but not like full cry

18.) found out someone was talking about you: ooooooo bish u better believe it and i may have made one passive aggressive tweet and then fazed them out of my life lmao

19.) met someone who changed you: Erm yeah i guess so

20.) found out who your true friends are: Yeah pretty much but i hope to make more in September as well

21.) kissed someone on your Facebook list: My dude ive kissed quite a few people on my fb list, mostly truth or dare tho

22.) how many of your Facebook friends do you know in real life: Almost all of them except like a few 

23.) do you have any pets: I have a pure white cat named Gandalf

24.) do you want to change your name: nah ive made my peace with it

25.) what did you do for your last birthday: i was twenty and with Arran we went round london, had a fancy tea, went back and opened my presents then had dinner, it was pretty chill.

26.) what time did you wake up: 12:05pm

27.) what were you doing at midnight last night: Watching youtube stuff with Arran

28.) name something you cannot wait for: To move to uni and start my degree and feel like i have a purpose. Oh and the day i have emotional stability and am not riddled with mental illnesses lmao

29.) when was the last time you saw your mother: Monday afternoon

30.) what is one thing you wish you could change about your life: That i didnt have such a messed up childhood. Like if i could id rewrite the bad parts.

31.) what are you listening to right now:   There's A Good Reason These Tables Are Numbered Honey. You Just Haven't Thought Of It Yet by P!@tTD

32.) have you ever talked to a person named tom: Yepp I dated one, was friends with one and probably have spoken to countless strangers called Tom unknowingly 

33.) something that gets on your nerves: Me

34.) most visited website: This or Instagram

35.) elementary: my dear watson 

36.) high school: Musical????????????

37.) college: Leila was stressed and sad but she’s going back for round two in September

38.) hair color: It’s blue but with black roots and shaved parts cause i got a fancy haircut and now i have an undercut lmao 

39.) long or short hair: I was supposed to grow it out then 38′s answer happened so it’s v short and masculine

40.) do you have a crush on someone: probably Brendon Urie I love him so much but it’s been so long lmao

41.) what do you like about yourself: My hair is blue that’s about it

42.) piercings: Ears and snakebites

43.) blood type: idk red???

44.) relationship status: in a relationship 

45.) nicknames: my mum is the only one who really calls me these; leilabug, lala, Troll,Gromit and Clever Little Bean Sprout. Sometimes my aunt or nan will use a couple of them but not often. 

46.) zodiac sign: Sagittarius

47.) pronouns: she/her  they/them

48.) fav tv show: heck idk i watch a lot of crap

49.) tattoos: a geometric unicorn stick and poke but i have some planned for my 21st

50.) right or left handed: Right!

FIRST:

51.) surgery: none boi

52.) piercing: Ears

53.) best friend: omfg either craig in nursery or Lacey in Infant school. 

54.) sport: Basket Ball

55.) vacation: my mum, my aunt, my aunts kid, my uncle, my sister and a family friend and me all drove in two big cars to the isle of wight and it was lit. I was like 10 and i wanna do it again next year for the banter

56.) pair of trainers: They were the best okayyyyy they fucking lit up every time you made a step and ive wanted them ever since. i finally got another pair for my 20th, after 18yrs long years of waiting lmao

57.) eating: first eating?????

58.) drinking: first drinking??? ??????????????

59.) about to see: im so confused

60.) listening to: Panic! At The Disco - Always

61.) waiting for: Arran to come home cause im hungry lmao

62.) want:Emotional stability and food

63.) get married: yeah 

64.) career: I’d love to be a working artist but i doubt it’ll happen 

WHICH IS BETTER

65.) hugs or kisses: Kisses cause i hate being touched at times

66.) lips or eyes: Eyes

67.) shorter or taller: I like taller partners but apart from that idm

68.) younger or older: Slightly older. 

69.) romantic or spontaneous: spontaneously romantic

70.) nice arms or nice stomach: ughhhhhhhh i love both 

71.) sensitive or loud: Sensitive 

72.) hook up or relationship: Relationship

73.) troublemaker or hesitant: Bit of both 

74.) kissed a stranger: Yeah when i was younger and not shackled to my partner who i love and care for

75.) drank hard liquor: Yeah i guess

76.) lost glasses/contact lenses: contact lenses that i paid good money for!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

77.) turned someone down: yeah it always makes me feel uncomfortable

78.) sex on first date: kind of???????????????????????

79.) broken someone’s heart: yah i guess

80.) had your own heart broken: yeah boi but i lost weight so it was good lmao

81.) been arrested: no

82.) cried when someone died: only in movies so far

83.) fallen for a friend: erm yeah that’s kind of how all my relationships happen

DO YOU BELIEVE IN…

84.) yourself?:heck, im trying to

85.) miracles?: not like religiously but miraculous things do happen i guess

86.) love at first sight?: nope, it’s just lust, love comes with time and personality

87.) santa claus?: not anymore my dreams were shattered 

88.) kiss on the first date?: i have yes

89.) angels?: no

OTHER…

90.) current best friends name(s): Zoe!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! and Arran is kinda like my best friend but he’s my boyfriend whereas Zoe is like the OG lmao

91.) eye color: Brown :/

92.) favorite movie: The Little Mermaid, Anastasia, Interview With A Vampire. I have loads but ive gone blank :c 

It says to tag 25 people but no

I tag: @the-leviathans-mansion  @biancamakesmejumpoutofwindows

@red-eyedsoul @strawberriedd @hateintheseveiins @lightninginmyeyes 

id tag more people but my laptop is lagging v much. You don’t have to do this if u dont want but if u wanna go for it!!!!!!!!

Thanks!!

[madness-of-void]

TAGGED

i was tagged by lil’ sis @you-look-beautiful-as-always

Answer these 20 questions and tag 20 of your followers you want to get to know better.

name: Nicole (i hate the spelling, so Nykol is a wee bit better, I suppose)

nicknames: Nic (or Nyk, I suppose)

zodiac sign: Virgo

height: 5″1′

orientation: Bisexual

nationality: American

favorite fruit: Oranges

favorite season: Summer

favorite book: Oh my god, it used to be HP7, but after reading the huge post about how it could’ve been if a Slytherin had been the spare and not Cedric...it is so dull now and...and now I’m in a slight turmoil. Good thing the Maze Runner series was in second. Guess it’s in first now! XD

favorite flower: Black roses, red roses, antique roses 

favorite scent: Citrus cents - mostly oranges

favorite color: Emerald green

favorite animal: Anaconda, wolves, foxes

coffee, tea, or hot cocoa: Tea & hot cocoa

average sleep hours: 6 or 7, but lately I’ve been having 9-10 hours lately and I don’t know how to feel about that

cat or dog person: Both but I’m allergic to certain cats (and I never know which ones) so I have to be more of a dog person ;_;

favorite fictional character: Fahk...erm...Stiles (Teen Wolf), Chuck (TMR), Luna (HP), Rukia (Bleach, and she DESERVED BETTER TITE KUBO! THEY ALL DID!), Yuuri (YOI)...I could keep going but that would take hours and I’m gonna start trying to do shitty aesthetics soon of some of my faves, so that’ll show the list ^^;

number of blankets you sleep with: 2

dream trip: Oh damn...well...Japan, Italy, Scotland, Kauai (I love the peace I feel the time I was there), and maybe Portugal to learn more about that side of my family

blog created: Fuck...uh...no idea. Sometime back in...I think 2011 or 2012

number of followers: 884 and you should all talk to me coz I really don’t bite

I Tag: @asagi-s-garden, @weneedtherooks, @doragonhinansho, @pale-silver-comb , @batwynn , AND EVERYBODY WHO WANTS TO DO IT! Just tag me as the person that tagged you so I can see! :3

[mary34blog]

Meme thing #3424352 (I stopped actually counting lol)

Tagged by @fukurodaniace ^^

(I’m pretty sure I did this one already but it’s been a year ago and alot can change in a year so Imma gonna do it again :D)

Rules: Copy this post into a new text post, remove my answers and put in yours, and when you are done tag up to 10 people and also tag the person who tagged you… And most importantly, have fun!

tagging @lesbianrosso, @la-muerte-roja, @gottemorto, @lunarmaster54, @segunsantanagisa and anyone else who wants to do it ^^

a - age: 22

b - biggest fear: Bugs.

c - current time: 12:51

d - drink you last had: Water (I’m a boring person like that :D)

e - every day starts with: Trying to convince myself to not go back to sleep.

f - favourite song: At the moment it’s this one: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rYw2sN2z42w

g - ghosts, are they real: Well I haven’t seen one yet, so who knows? *shrugs*

h - hometown: A small town somewhere in Hungary

i - in love with: Cats. And Anime. And Chocolate :D

j - jealous of: People with proper schedule in their life.

k - killed someone: Nope. (Did anyone ever answered this one with a Yes unironically?)

l - last time you cried: Last week cause I was stupid enough to rewatch Shelter even thought I know damn well it will always make me cry.

m - middle name: I don’t have one

n - number of siblings: Two ^^

o - one wish: Erm... World Peace? Jokes aside, I think my one wish is simply a quiet and peaceful life (a little boring I know but oh well)

p - person you last called/texted: My Mom. Again. (Gee I talk to my mom a lot aren’t I?)

q - questions you’re always asked: It’s usually either “How you doin?” or “How your sisters are doing?” (The latter is a little more akward to answer because the asker often tends to be a little too nosy for my and their confort zone...)

r - reasons to smile: Well I think things and people whom makes you happy is generally a reason to smile I think.

s - song last sung: I think it was a song from Mozart’s Figaro. I have this weird habit to start randomly humming Mozart sometimes.

t - time you woke up: 9:15 am

u - underwear colour: White I think? (This is a weird af question)

v - vacation destination: Waaaay to many to list, but I think the place I wanna see the most are either The Louvre or The Buckingam Palace.

w - worst habit: Excessive Procrastrinating.

x - x-rays you’ve had: I had an x-ray on my pinky finger, cause I broke it, and two chest x-rays casue they examined my heart. (My family has a history with heart diesase and my chest sometimes hurts especially during extreme weather changes.)

y - your favourite food: CHOCOLATE

z - zodiac sign: Scorpio

[i-smile-so-i-must-be-fine]

1: My name? jess

2: Do I have any nicknames? lilo, babe, baby

3: Zodiac sign? virgo 

4: Video game I play to chill, not to win? none 

5: Book/series I reread? none 

6: Aliens or ghosts? ghosts

7: Writer I trust enough to read whatever they write?

8: Favourite radio station? capital fm or smooth 

9: Favourite flavour of anything? hmm strawberry

10: The word that I use all the time to describe something great? amazing 

11: Favourite song? stitches - shawn mendes 

12: The question you ask new friends to get to know them better? lol don’t really make new friends often 

13: Favourite word? depends on my mood what i use the most 

14: The last person who hurt me, did I forgive them? no 

15: Last song I listened to? turn me on - riton 

16: TV show I always recommend? never really recommend anything 

17: Pirates or ninjas? pirates 

18: Movie I watch when I’m feeling down? perks of been a wallflower or fault in our stars

19: Song that I always start my shuffle with/wake-up song/always-on-a-loop song? again depends on my mood

20: Favourite video games? none

21: What am I most afraid of? my girl dying or been left 

22: A good quality of mine? i care soooo much about others 

23: A bad quality of mine? paranoia/jealousy 

24: Cats or dogs? cats

25: Actor/actress you trust enough to watch whatever they’re in? don’t really know 

26: Favourite season? autumn 

27: Am I in a relationship? yep 

28: Something I miss? been able to just go to my girls house or have her come to me 

29: My best friend? does my fiancee count.. other than that don’t have one 

30: Eye colour? green/brown they change colour 

31: Hair colour? brown

32: Someone I love? my girl and our son 

33: Someone I trust? my girl 

34: Someone I always think about? my girl and our son 

35: Am I excited about anything? seeing my girl on wednesday 

36: My current obsession? don’t currently have one 

37: Favourite TV shows as a child? lizzy mcguire 

38: Do I have someone of the opposite sex that I can tell everything to? no 

39: Am I superstitious? not really

40: What do I think about most? ...

41: Do I have any strange phobias? no 

42: Do I prefer to be in front of the camera or behind it? behind 

43: Favourite hobbies? listening to music/ watching netflix 

44: Last book I read? can’t remember what its called but i need to finish reading it 

45: Last film I watched? a star is born 

46: Do I play any instruments? no 

47: Favourite animal? tiger

48: Top 5 blog on Tumblr that I follow?

49: Superpower I wish I could have? wish i could have three.. invisibility, fly, read minds 

50: How do I destress? i don’t 

51: Do I like confrontation? no 

52: When do I feel most at peace? with my girl 

53: What makes me smile? my girl and our son 

54: Do I sleep with the lights on or off? off

55: Play any sports? used to 

56: What is my song of the week? don’t have one 

57: Favourite drink? red bull 

58: When did I last send a handwritten letter to somebody? its been a while

59: Afraid of heights? no 

60: Pet peeve? people biting their nails 

61: What was the last concert I went to see? shawn mendes 

62: Am I vegetarian/vegan/pescatarian? no 

63: What occupation did I want to do when I was younger? pe teacher 

64: Have I ever had a friend turn enemy? kinda 

65: What fictional universe would I like to be a part of? dunno 

66: Something I worry about? everything 

67: Scared of the dark? only when im out on my own 

68: Who are my best friends? answered 

69: What do I admire most about others? it varys in each person 

70: Can I sing? LOL no 

71: Something I wish I could do? read minds 

72: If I won the lottery, what would I do? help family out, by my little family a house, learn to drive and buy a car, holidays, 

73: Have I ever skipped school? yea

74: Favourite place on the planet? hmm anywhere with my little family is perfect 

75: Where do I want to live? as a kid i always wanted to move to ameria, and now i’d love to live in greece 

76: Do I have any pets? yea

77: What is my current desktop picture? the quote “love is louder than the pressure to be perfect”

78: Early bird or night owl? night 

79: Sunsets or sunrise? set

80: Can I drive? i wish 

81: Story behind my last kiss? saying goodbye :(

82: Earphones or headphones? both 

83: Have I ever had braces? no 

84: Story behind one of my scars? sh 

85: Favourite genre of music? listen to most genres 

86: Who is my hero? hmm 

87: Favourite comic book character? harley quinn

88: What makes me really angry? anything can trigger it 

89: Kindle or real book? neither

90: Favourite sporty activity? dunno 

91: What is one thing that isn’t tight in schools that should be?

92: What was my favourite subject at school? pe

93: Siblings? 1

94: What was the last thing I bought? a can of monster 

95: How tall am I? 5″3

96: Can I cook? kinda

97: Can I bake? a little 

98: 3 things I love? my girl, my son, my phone 

99: 3 things I hate? been late, my ex, my girls ex 

100: Do I have more girl friends or boy friends? girls 

101: Who do I get on with better, girls or boys? girls 

102: Where was I born? england 

103: Sexual orientation? lesbian 

104: Where do I currently live? england 

105: Last person I texted? my girl 

106: Last time I cried? this morning 

107: Guilty pleasure? dunno 

108: Favourite Youtuber? rose and rosie 

109: A photo of myself. no 

110: Do I like selfies? only if someone else is in them with me 

111: Favourite game app? home scapes 

112: My relationship with my parents? its okay 

113: Favourite accents? canadian 

114: A place I have not been but wish to visit? i want to travel the world so yea 

115: Favourite number? 7

116: Can I juggle? no 

117: Am I religious? no 

118: Do I like space? kinda 

119: Do I like the deep ocean? yea 

120: Am I much of a daredevil? probably 

121: Am I allergic to anything? no 

122: Can I curl my tongue? no 

123: Can I wiggle my ears? no 

124: Do I like clowns? they’re alright 

125: The Beatles or Elvis? neither 

126: My current project? don’t have one 

127: Am I a bad loser? no 

128: Do I admit when I wrong? sometimes 

129: Forest or beach? beach 

130: Favourite piece of advice? dunno 

131: Am I a good liar? kinda

132: Hogwarts house / Divergent faction / Hunger Games district? erm well i got bored of harry potter through the first one.. dunno anything about the second one and hunger games confused me 

133: Do I talk to myself? i talk to the voices in my head if that counts 

134: Am I very social? lol no

135: Do I like gossip? sometimes

136: Do I keep a journal/diary? no 

137: Have I ever hopelessly failed a test? yea plenty of times 

138: Do I believe in second chances? pretty much 

139: If I found a wallet full of cash on the ground, what would I do? keep the cash and hand in the wallet 

140: Do I believe people are capable of change? sometimes 

141: Have I ever been underweight? no 

142: Am I ticklish? very 

143: Have I ever been in a submarine? no but sounds fun 

144: Have I ever been on a plane? a few times 

145: In a film about my life, who would I cast as myself, friends and family? dunno 

146: Have I ever been overweight? story of my life 

147: Do I have any piercings? not anymore 

148: Which fictional character do I wish was real? harley quinn 

149: Do I have any tattoos? 9

150: What is the best decision I have made in life so far? agreeing to meet the person who became my fiancee 3 months later 

151: Do I believe in Karma? i thought i did but apparently it doesn’t happen 

152: Do I wear glasses or contacts? i’m supposed to wear glasses to read 

153: What was my first car? i can’t drive 

154: Do I want children? i have 1 

155: Who is the most intelligent person I know?

156: My most embarrassing memory? to many to name 

157: What makes me nostalgic?

158: Have I ever pulled an all-nighter? i have insomnia sooo 

159: Which do I value more in others, brains or beauty? brains 

160: What colour mostly dominates my wardrobe? black 

161: Have I ever had a paranormal experience? a few times 

162: What do I hate most about myself? everything 

163: What do I love most about myself? tattoos 

164: Do I like adventure? yea 

165: Do I believe in fate? kinda 

166: Favourite animal? tiger 

167: Have I ever been on radio? yea 

168: Have I ever been on TV? does the news count?

169: How old am I? 26

170: One of my favourite quotes? love is louder than the pressure to be perfect 

171: Do I hold grudges? yea

172: Do I trust easily? no 

173: Have I learnt from my mistakes? think so 

174: Best gift I’ve ever received? hmm 

175: Do I dream? i day dream a lot but for the past dunno how long i’ve had nightmares when i’ve been able to sleep

176: Have I ever had a night terror? all the time 

177: Do I remember my dreams, and what is one that comes to mind? there all nightmares 

178: An experience that has made me stronger? erm 

179: If I were immortal, what would I do? god please i hope that never happens 

180: Do I like shopping? if im feeling impulsive 

181: If I could get away with a crime, what would I choose to do? i’d murder a few people 

182: What does “family” mean to me? dunno can’t explain it 

183: What is my spirit animal? sloth 

184: How do I want to be remembered?

185: If I could master one skill, what would I choose? maths 

186: What is my greatest failure? my last relationship but thank fuck it didn’t work out 

187: What is my greatest achievement? my son although it happened out of a very bad situation 

188: Love or money? love 

189: Love or career? love

190: If I could time travel, where and when would I want to go? its difficult coz i’d want to go to the future to see if things actually improve.. but i’d also want to go into the past to change things 

191: What makes me the happiest? my little family 

192: What is “home” to me? been in my girls arms 

193: What motivates me? my son 

194: If I could choose my last words, what would they be?

195: Would I ever want to encounter aliens? sure 

196: A movie that scared me as a child? incredible hulk 

197: Something I hated as a child that I like now? dunno 

198: Zombies or vampires? vampires 

199: Live in the city or suburbs? not fussed 

200: Dragons or wizards? dragons 

201: A nightmare that has stayed with me?

202: How do I define love? love is when you care deeply for someone and so much more

203: Do I judge a book by its cover? i try not to 

204: Have I ever had my heart broken? yea 

205: Do I like my handwriting? no 

206: Sweet or savoury? sweet 

207: Worst job I’ve had? when i was an intern at this little cafe i just hated the whole experience 

208: Do I collect anything? no 

209: Item of clothing or jewellery you’ll never see me without? my engagnment ring and the first ring my girl bought me 

210: What is on my bucket list? to travel 

211: How do I handle anger? depends 

212: Was I named after anyone? dunno 

213: Do I use sarcasm a lot? always 

214: What TV character am I most like? dunno 

215: What is the weirdest talent I have? i have flexible fingers 

216: Favourite fictional character? harley quinn