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#i need to start doing fragrance reviews more often
holler-witch-queen · 1 year
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Tangerine Boy by Phlur is such an uplifting fragrance like I was in a shitty ass mood and I put it on and I swear I felt my blood pressure go down and I was sitting down and smiled and my breathing changed. Have you ever been drunk on a topical beach sunbathing, just totally relaxed and unbothered? That’s this scent (with none of those coconut-y sunscreen like notes) this is also totally a unisex scent so men and masc people can wear it too, without having to worry about smelling feminine. ((All scents are unisex if you’re brave enough, I wear traditionally masculine fragrances sometimes too and I don’t have an issue with it but I know it makes some people nervous so you do whatever makes you feel the best regardless of if something is “masculine” or “feminine”))
If any of my fellow fragrance enthusiasts are looking for a new scent, please go buy their discovery set. Or if your partner or another lived is looking for something new, buy it for them.
Missing Person is their most popular fragrance and the ad for it is what made me wanna try it, and I’ll be honest, it wasn’t in my top favorites, but Apriot Privée??? It’s an absolute fucking masterpiece that is soft and flirty and fun. You could wear it to an office job and then wear it on a night out. When I get paid on Friday I’m ordering a travel spray because I’m burning through my trial size. I’ve worn it several days in a row and my husband ALWAYS comments on how good I smell. It’s gonna be my new every day scent.
Not Your Baby is one that I feel like a lot of people will love. Like, the name describes the vibe so well. It’s flirty and powerful and demands attention but it also demands respect. (Also I’ve found that I LOVE violet notes in fragrances and this has that and it’s great.)
I didn’t dislike ANY of them. These ones stood out the most to me
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betwixtyiff · 2 years
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Will you drop a skincare tutorial, some of us are breaking OUT! And you seem to know what you're doing, so....
Well I'm not gonna drop a full routine because I'm not a dermatologist, nor am I an esthetician, and as such I'm not comfy saying the advice I'm giving is iron clad
However I do feel comfortable giving a few general pointers I've picked up from watching other derms and estheticians on YouTube:
Sunscreen is a necessity. Yes even on cloudy days or when you're indoors. UV (ultraviolet) rays are the biggest factor in skin damage are the biggest cause for skin cancer. A mineral sunscreen uses naturally derived mineral filters to shield you from UV rays, whereas a chemical sunscreen will use synthesized chemical filters to do so. Both have their merits and work for different people
With that in mind, I'll be honest; shopping for a good sunscreen is hard. Especially if you have a dark skin tone. But honestly, if you decide to break the bank for anything in your routine, let it be your sunscreen.
LaRoche Posay is a brand that makes quite a few tinted mineral sunscreens (the tint is so a you're less likely to be on the receiving end of a whitecast) that I've read very good reviews from.
If chemical sunscreens are more up your alley and you're able to, I recommend looking into South Korean sunscreens
The most basic routine you can get is just a cleanser and sunscreen
Introducing an extra humectant to your skin can help a great deal with hydration! Humectants being ingredients that help preserve or attract moisture to the skin. A great one to look for both as a separate serums or as a component in moisturizers is hyaluronic acid!
Finding out your skin type is a good start to finding out which products might work for you. This guide from CeraVe is a great and easy start to that!
If you're acne prone and have tried a multitude of things to try and get rid of it (I myself had horrible acne growing up and even with antibiotics I took for it I never felt like I had it under control until the last couple years) then products containing salicylic acid are something I recommend. Ben
If you can I advise staying away from products containing artificial fragrance. Often times, those fragrances are achieved with essential oils which are normally formulated high amounts of alcohol which can be incredibly drying or irritating to the skin. If you turn the container around and look under the Ingridients label and you see "Fragrance" or "Parfume" or either "Limonene" or "Linolool" that's your tip off
That being said often times even if you have oilier skin, your skin CAN be needing some naturally derived or cold pressed oil to help balance things out! A brand called The Ordinary has a 1 oz bottle of rosehip seed oil that I use every night, just two drops combined with my moisturizer is enough
Above all else: everyone's skin is different and what works for my skin is not necessarily going to work for you
I also highly recommend checking out the following people as they're who I watch constantly when I'm looking for products as well as info:
Dr. Dray - Board certified dermatologist on YouTube and immensely knowledgeable
Dr. Alexis Stephens - Another board certified dermatologist on YouTube who is also very knowledgeable but places a focus on skincare for black people and other darker skintones
Cassandra Bankson - Medical esthetician who is open about her struggles with acne and has a lot of videos relating to such
Michelle Wong/Lab Muffin Beauty Science - Chemistry PhD and self described skincare nerd who has a lot of videos relating to why certain ingredients react with our skin the way they do as well as just the science behind cosmetics in general
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masterslong · 1 year
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Pink zebra sprinkles
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GlucoFreeze - It Helps To Control Your Blood Sugar Level Latest Update 2022
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movedraw8 · 2 years
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Every Sport Needs Certain Equipment
Whenever you watch a sports game like basketball, football or soccer, you would see their uniforms filled up with logos or names of companies that have sponsored they. You will also see bunches of advertisements along the court which just visits show these kinds of are sponsorships for the game. If you are watching the sport on TV, you would notice right now there are also many commercial breaks during halftime and game breaks. Attests that the creators how many businesses are shooting for sponsorship in sport. Not really? There are a lot of benefits certain company could easily get when they sponsor a team or sport particularly in big leagues. Here are a couple of the benefits that can be obtained from sponsorship in sport. In the heat of competition or training, it is often rather easy to permit your mind to get tangled lets start on negative responses to poor results. For example, you may have just played sport a poor choice of shot in tennis, at rock bottom the line, when you need have gone cross the court. If you're not careful, can become overly enthusiastic thinking inside lost point, over as well as again, putting yourself all the way down. There are that are very capable of dismissing the mistake and gaining knowledge through it. For anybody who is not no doubt one of those gifted with that ability, try the making use of. If you can get a Subclass 421 Visa, really are millions other chances. You can watch out for a short-stay business visa if a person planning on competing in or judging a single event or match. This falls under subclass 456. You furthermore look in the longer stay version, subclass 457 makes it possible for for about a 4 year stay advertising are a professional player or coach. Merchandise in your articles are thinking about training or playing in an amateur league but will not be getting paid, are able to apply the eVisitor (subclass 651), an ETA for visitors via (subclass 976) or the Tourist Visa (subclass 676). These short-term visas are good as long as you've planned on staying for under three many months. I undergone my normal morning shower routine including washing my face with Anthony sport Foaming Face Cleanser. I normally would shave your past shower, speculate I was reviewing herb product . I thought he would shave involving the shower so We could really focus on the product and the shave it gave my routine. So after escaping of the shower and drying my face; I squeezed any cash sized quantity the sport shave cream into the palm of my side of things. I gave it a smell to the provider it was truly fragrance free. It had extremely mild citrus scent, which i really wouldn't normally have noticed if I wasn't doing a review within it. But never the less it was still a pleasant scent. fx마진거래 Novice rowers learn the fundamentals of rowing, about the different types of boats and equipment, stroke technique, the handling and rigging of boats. Rowing is all about teamwork in addition novice rower learns that crew members need to together to balance the shell and perform the stroke in the coordinated fashion. Game Trophies. The Little Brown Jug - Michigan as. Minnesota; The Paul Bunyan Axe - Michigan vs. Michigan State; are two to mention a few. Teams around college football each Saturday often play for a trophy that oozes tradition in any particular one series. Ideas more noteworthy trophies - The Golden Boot - Arkansas sport v. LSU; the Peace Pipe - Toledo compared to. Bowling Green; the Old Oaken Bucket - Indiana against. Purdue. While a person paddling, you are receiving good exercise and some special time alone or along with your friends inside of a healthy vibe. Many who ride a SUP use it for physical training. End up being especially good to core, legs, and shoulder training. A person of steady paddling will wear you out and will give you terrific exercising routine. While you are training perhaps paddling, it will clear your brain and can get blood flowing for an outstanding cardiovascular perform. Kelleners Sport is first aftermarket tuning company to unveil a complete tuning program for the BMW 1 Series M Coupe. The actual aerodynamics, forged wheels, and engine upgrades make it a rival to present-day BMW M3. Pricing for the entire package is not released by the German receiver.
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catcanvas1 · 2 years
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Salt Water Fly Fishing - Adding A Salty Dimension Into The Sport!
The mid 18th century saw the dawn of just a new sport called hockey. Hockey has been played since 1908 in the event it was introduced at summer Olympic Game applications. The women's hockey started tiny later in 1980 in the Summer Olympics. It is often a very popular game loved by all countries the actual day world. Customers hockey club was established in 1849 in Black heath, United kingdom. I undergo my normal morning shower routine which included washing my face with Anthony sport Foaming Face Cleanser. I normally would shave in the shower, consider I was reviewing this I decided they would shave the actual the shower so We possibly could really concentrate on the product and the shave it gave . So after getting out of the shower and drying my face; I squeezed any money sized amount the sport shave cream into the palm of my hand and wrist. I gave it a smell to see if it was truly fragrance free. It had highly mild citrus scent, that really very first have noticed if I wasn't pulling off a review within it. But never the less it nonetheless a pleasant scent. Lesson 13: Change the manner if that work. In sport, amazing change recreation plan generally if the existing plan's not working. We often see that a team is struggling until half-time, and after that comes back with a vengeance. Learn? The coach telling them at half-time what to change to along with an unexpected response inside opposing team. In business we requirement to do the same. There is an old North American Indian saying, "the best strategy much more positive realize your horse is dead, is actually by get off and choose a new indy." You cannot stick the strategy this clearly is not working. I am not stating we change our strategies at the drop in the hat, But we ought have the insight to be aware when everyone to persevere and the family need to alter! Lesson 6: Coaching and mentoring. Gary Kirsten was the cricket coach within the Indian team. How do you tell exciting workout cricket player in the world, Sachin Tendulkar, to bat? You should create a natural environment where presume in in themselves. You need the skills for a psychologist as well as a coach and mentor, to unlock the EQ and SQ of sport the participants. Leaders need to manage this within organizations as well, to develop high performing teams. Like the name suggests, rafting is done on white water and this isn't without need. White water produces froth once the raft rushes through that gives the whole scene a good fun look. Onlookers enjoy the bubbly view that gives an illusion of even more speed approach raft is literally moving attending. The white water rafting sport is educational to exercise while also having fun with those you have fun being approximately. The rafts used in this extreme sport are usually connected together so how the passengers onboard the raft can join hands to get the raft streaming. It is a joint effort activity. It's very fun to make and helps build the motivation of your group elements. 해외선물 NASCAR has 43 drivers every race, that doesn't seem like much, but drivers constantly moving while using NASCAR devisions to arrive at the next rank and highlight their talents and skillset. Cricket provides become a world sport through popular index and cannot remain only as a premium incentive of some Test playing nations. The ICC is spreading cricket across many nations, on the web . league cricket is tied to only several skillful many people. Sport should be for everybody's enjoyment. Really should see Chinese children just swing the bat and the ball in order to children in India. In India 1 goes any recreation park on a Sunday is actually bound notice so providers since they playing cricket games. Will ICCs initiative see Cricket becoming is by using sport associated with an official incursion of skills?
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cheri-translates · 3 years
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[CN] Gavin’s Divination Date
🍒 Warning: This post contains detailed spoilers for a date, 占卜之约, which has not been released in EN! 🍒
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[ Released on 16 September 2021 ]
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MC: Gavin, I’ve been way too unlucky recently! I fell down while riding a bicycle, the water supply was cut halfway during a shower, and last week, three flights were delayed by more than two hours within the span of three days... Sob sob, life is so difficult...
It’s a Saturday, and Gavin has come over to my house to kill time as usual. The moment we meet, I can’t help but wail about how I painstakingly got through the week. 
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As though he’s comforting a small animal, his palm gently covers the top my head.
Gavin: You’ve already told me these things.
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He pulls me over to sit on the sofa, then leans over to look at my knee. Knowing his intentions and feeling afraid that he’s genuinely worried, I hurriedly wave my hands.
MC: Actually, it wasn’t a serious fall, and my skin didn’t tear. There were a few red cuts, but they're gone now.
Even after confirming the veracity of what I said, Gavin doesn’t straighten up. His fingers rub my knee, conveying his belated consolation.
After a while, he rests an arm on the sofa while turning his head towards me.
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Gavin: Want to drink milk tea or eat cake? Didn’t you say that with these two things, even the worst of moods can be turned into the clearest of skies?
With this reminder, a location instantly flashes past my mind.
MC: Let’s drink coffee!
I reach for my phone on the coffee table. Tapping on my saved searches, I show Gavin a shop.
MC: This one - Witch Café. The name’s a little outdated, but it’s really popular recently. I’ve seen many people checking in on Moments. 
MC: The manager of this shop knows divination, and the reviews mentioned that she’s really accurate... 
MC: Also, if the results from the divination aren’t that great, she could help turn my fortune around. 
MC: The shop sells lots of objects used for changing one’s fortune, such as crystal rings and bracelets. 
MC: I think what I need most right now, aside from you... would be a change of fortune!
Gavin bursts into a laugh, then lifts his head to look at me.
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Gavin: It’s my fault for not learning divination to change your fortune for the better. Otherwise, you’d only need me.
Gavin’s quick wit causes me to do a thumbs-up.
MC: Wow. Your logic... makes a little bit of sense.
He scrolls down my phone screen, taking a casual look at the café’s introduction.
Gavin: Mm, it looks really interesting and isn’t very far.
MC: It’s really nearby. It’s only a few kilometres away, and there definitely won’t be a traffic jam at his hour. But it’s the weekend, so I’m not sure if we’d need to queue.
Gavin takes my phone from my hand, then pushes me on the back gently.
Gavin: Get changed. I’ll give them a call to make a reservation.
I immediately get up, giving him a deliberately formal bow.
MC: Understood.
-
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The internet-famous café is even more popular than I imagined. Although it isn’t time for afternoon tea yet, the shop is already fully packed.
Fortunately, we’re seated in a relatively quiet corner next to the window. However, we can still hear a few ladies from the neighbouring table fervently discussing the results of their divination.
I tug on Gavin’s sleeve from across the table.
MC: Gavin, you’ve never believed in such things, have you?
Gavin: Divination?
Gavin nods frankly, then suddenly chuckles.
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Gavin: I initially wanted to say that I didn’t believe it. But I suddenly remembered that an Evolver who can predict the future is sitting right in front of me.
MC: ...that’s true?!
Realising this, I sink into a deep contemplation. Gavin reaches out to scratch the tip of my nose.
Gavin: I meant that as a joke. It’s impossible to meet a second Evolver with a precognition ability.
I glare at Gavin angrily. He shifts his gaze, looking at the manager who is currently talking to patrons.
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Gavin: But she is an Evolver.
MC: Really? 
I turn my head to look. The manager is wearing a black apron, and she’s bending down as she patiently explains the divination symbol to a patron, her smile warm and amiable.
She exudes an aura which makes whatever she says very believable.
Just as my anticipation is hooked, Gavin stifles it with his words.
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Gavin: But it definitely isn’t related to precognition.
MC: I see...
When Gavin sees that my anticipation has dampened, he pushes a blueberry cake in front of me.
Gavin: Don’t feel disappointed yet. Divination has never needed to rely on Evol. You’ll know if it’s accurate after giving it a try.
He digs a small piece of cake with a spoon, then brings it over to me. Munching on it, my eyes widen as I look at him.
MC: Incredibly! Delicious!
The cake exceeded my expectations. Thinking that the coffee might be pretty good too, I quickly lift the cup of coffee from the table.
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In the meantime, Gavin picks up the explanatory card the manager had just brought over, and starts reading from it.
Gavin: It says that once you’ve finished drinking the coffee, you have to press the bell to call for the manager. The manager will obtain the divination results after observing the shape of the coffee sediments. 
Gavin: Before the divination, you could think of the contents of the divination first.
Gavin: If you have a ring or another token, you could prepare it beforehand. Place it at the bottom of the cup afterwards to increase the effectiveness.
After reading this, he rests his chin against his hand while chuckling softly.
Gavin: It’s almost the same as the tarot cards we tried the last time.
I take the explanatory card from him. Opening it up, I give it a sweeping glance.
MC: ...so it’s tasseography. I did research on it when we were playing with tarot cards the last time. Afterwards, I realised how complicated it is to interpret the divination results, so I gave up on learning it.
Finishing the rest of the coffee in one gulp, I press the copper bell at the corner of the table.
Upon hearing the bell, the manager looks up and shoots me a smile while washing a coffee cup. After wiping her hands, she walks over to us.
Manager: Are the both of you done with your coffee?
Seeing me nod in anticipation, she picks up the serving tray on the table, placing it next to the coffee cup.
Manager: May I know how I should address you?
MC: MC.
Manager: MC, lift the coffee cup and sway it gently while contemplating on your divination question. Once you’re done, place the cup upside down onto the tray.
I follow her instructions.
After a short while, she uncovers the cup, displaying the shape of the coffee sediments inside it.
Manager: Based on the results, you seem to have been going through a rough time lately, and your mood hasn’t been great. Is this correct?
MC: !!!
I immediately look at Gavin, thinking that this is far too accurate.
The manager seems to detect an affirmation from my expression. She sets down the coffee cup, then retrieves two wrapped chocolate cookies from her apron.
Manager: I made them this afternoon, and they’re for you. Based on the shape of the coffee sediments, although you might have experienced some rough moments recently, all the unhappy moments have already passed. Over the next few days, you’ll receive good news in succession, and you’ll be happier.
While saying this, she leans over, her slightly curled hair exuding a floral fragrance which refreshes the soul, causing me to be left in a mild daze.
Gavin suddenly speaks up.
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Gavin: You’re using Evol.
The manager pauses in fright. For a moment, she’s at a loss, and has no choice but to bow slightly with her hands by her side.
Manager: I’m sorry, have I offended the both of you?
Seeing her frantic expression, I hurriedly shake my head.
MC: I-it’s fine... we don’t discriminate against Evolvers. And I’m sure you didn’t have malicious intentions.
The manager’s shoulders slump in resignation, admitting her “little magic” to us candidly.
Manager: ...I just wanted to send a flower into your memories.
MC: Send a flower?
Seeing that I didn’t understand what she meant, she explains patently.
Manager: Sorry, that’s a phrase I use in the shop.
Manager: Through tasseography, I can truly tell that you haven’t been in a good mood recently. But it’s very difficult to change your future fortune. 
Manager: In order to lift the spirits of patrons who do divinations, I use my Evol to alter their memories slightly.
Manager: However, my Evol has its limits. The only thing I can do is add something small that’s worthwhile of happiness into their unhappy memories, such as a flower. 
Manager: Are you willing to give it a try?
Considering how frank she is, I can’t find a reason to refuse. Furthermore, no incidents will occur with Gavin around.
MC: Mm...
The manager’s hand gently glides across me. Although I feel as though nothing happened, she signals that she’s done. Gavin stares at me curiously.
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Gavin: Are there any changes to your memories?
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I inexplicably recall the time when I fell off the bicycle, and images beginning from the moment I fell surface in my mind -
The path in front of me is tilted, and I can’t control my plummet towards my left side. 
These images are exactly the same as what actually happened, but in the very last snippet -
In an unremarkable corner of the crosswalk, a blue wild flower sways along with the breeze.
MC: A flower? There’s really a flower!
For some reason, seeing this flower enveloped in sunlight causes my emotions to become much more composed, reducing the annoyance I felt about the fall.
The manager releases a joyful sigh, then continues her soft explanation on why she does such things.
Manager: People often have a deep impression of negative things, while happy moments are fleeting. Unhappy memories linger much longer in memories.
Manager: So I thought - if I could add an element of happiness into the unhappy memories of patrons, such as a flower, or a ray of sunlight...
Manager: Their unhappy memories may become a little brighter. On a subconscious level, their mood would naturally become better.
Manager: With a good mood to lift them up, they’d focus on the positive aspect of things the next time they face something else. That’s why they’d find that their fortunes have truly turned for the better.
After saying this, the manager looks at the both of us before apologising again softly.
Manager: Even though I use Evol on patrons, I don’t have malicious intentions. Could you be magnanimous and not report me?
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I toss a glance at Gavin, hoping that the Captain would close an eye this time.
After pondering for a moment, Gavin nods calmly at the manager.
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Gavin: I won’t report you, but don’t use Evol on patrons in the future.
He looks at me from the side, then reaches out to grab a tissue before wiping it gently against the corner of my lips. Lowering my head, I spot blueberry coloured cream on the white tissue.
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Gavin: I believe that your coffee and snacks are enough to bring patrons happiness.
The manager grabs my hand in relief, thanking me repeatedly.
Manager: Thank you both for liking my coffee and cakes. I’ll give another present to the both of you.
-
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By the time we leave the café, it’s still early. Gavin and I aren’t in a hurry to go back. Holding hands, we take a stroll beneath the shade of trees.
We can’t help but bring up what happened in the café earlier.
MC: It turns out that it’s so simple to change one’s mood. Adding an element of happiness into unhappy memories is enough.
Surrounded by the chirping of cicadas, even Gavin’s voice reveals a refreshing and carefree touch of summer.
Seeing his slightly sweat-damped fringe sticking to his temples, I retrieve a tissue from my bag and wipe it for him.
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Gavin: I remember that you once mentioned that the secret to maintaining a happy life is to focus on the positive side of things.
While saying this, Gavin takes the tissue in my hand and stores it into his own pocket.  
MC: Mm, that’s right! Actually, such forms of self comfort are pretty effective. 
MC: Even though I fell while riding a bike, I told myself that it was fortunate that it wasn’t anything more than a fall. 
MC: When the water supply was cut while I was showering, it only happened because I didn’t pay attention to the announcement by the property management... 
MC: I’d just learn from this experience and check the announcement board more often. 
MC: Also, the flights were delayed due to torrential rain. It was an objective reason, and nobody could have expected it.
MC: A lady from the airline company even gave me orange juice and a small gift.
Gavin chuckles leisurely, meeting my gaze from the corner of his eyes.
Gavin: Many things may not have happened according to how you wished over the short span of a week. Immersing yourself in the state of mind that everything wouldn’t go smoothly made you forget to look at the positive side of everything.
MC: Mm, but I can’t help it... Maintaining an optimistic outlook is really difficult. It’s inevitable to feel discouraged.
While saying this, I tighten my grip on his hand.
MC: But now, I know that if I face any unhappy moments in the future, I just have to search for a flower.
Gavin stops in his footsteps, lowering his eyes and giving me a smile.
Gavin: Have you thought of a new method to cheer yourself up?
I release a matter-of-fact “mm”. Pulling his collar, I give him a gentle peck on the chin.
MC: Whenever I face an unlucky incident, all I have to do is tell you immediately, and I’d immediately be comforted by you... 
MC: That way, I’d no longer be unhappy.
Gavin is taken aback momentarily. Then, he smiles faintly while looking at me.
MC: Whether it’s a fall or a delayed flight... The moment I share these things with you, the moodiness in my heart vanishes like smoke. The reason why I specially complained to you today was just to play coy.
I draw closer to him, swinging our interlaced hands.
MC: In the café earlier, I didn’t take the crystal bracelet she offered to change my fortune for the better... 
MC: I already have a bracelet which can bring me the greatest luck in the world.
I lower my head. Fragments of sunlight fall onto the ginkgo bracelet, refracting resplendent and exquisite faint light.
MC: This ginkgo leaf makes me happier than any other flower. No matter when, simply looking at it lifts my mood instantly.
Gavin doesn't release my hand. Instead, he pulls my hand to his back, bringing me into his arms gently.
The verdant trees and chirping of cicadas intertwine. The clean fragrance of shower gel from the side of his neck causes me to wrap my arms around him tightly.
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Gavin: I knew that you were playing coy. Trivial matters have never influenced your mood. You’re always very good at comforting yourself and seeing the positive side of everything. But the bracelet alone isn’t enough. The next time you come looking for me, I’ll definitely do something that’d make you even happier.
After saying this, he can’t help but release a resigned chuckle.
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Gavin: ...even though I haven’t thought of what I’d do.
I burst into a chuckle, then bury my head into his embrace completely.
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Gavin: But there will definitely be things that I can do to add an element of happiness into your unhappy memories.
Dense green hues and shadows fall on his shoulders. Lifting my head, I see faint light riding the wind through crevices of large clouds in the faraway sky.
Leisurely and carefree ants pass by the slabstone road, winding around a fallen green leaf, and I can’t tell if they’re taking a stroll or scavenging for food.
Summer is flourishing, and this moment is incomparably tranquil.
My heart is filled to the brim with contentedness and happiness. Even my tone is relaxed and at ease.
MC: Gavin, you have to promise me one thing. If you’re unhappy about something in the future, you have to tell me about it immediately, okay? I can add many, many elements of happiness into your memories so that you wouldn’t even have half a second of unhappiness. I can guarantee that.
I lift my head to look at Gavin. With our close proximity, I can see his amber eyes reflecting large swathes of lush branches and leaves belonging exclusively to midsummer.
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The gentleness flowing from these eyes aren’t stingy at all as they land on my face.
MC: We have to be the ever-fresh and blooming flowers in each of our memories, forever swaying in the wind.
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Gavin releases a soft “okay”. He rests his chin on my shoulder, tightening his grip around my waist.
He murmurs at my ear.
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Gavin: There’s no need for a guarantee. Your existence has always been the most brightly-coloured flower in my memories.
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[ MOMENTS ]
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Gavin’s Post: Different flavours of sodas seem to be really popular this summer.
MC: In order to clear the existing stock in the fridge, it’s time to have supper!
Gavin: Pick between mala crayfish and barbecue?
-
Gavin’s Post: Different flavours of sodas seem to be really popular this summer.
MC: Soda is always the best!
Gavin: Although that’s true, it’s best to drink fewer cold beverages.
-
Gavin’s Post: Different flavours of sodas seem to be really popular this summer.
MC: Pick between white peach and tangerine!
Gavin: I’ll pick the one you like less.
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☕ Call: here
☕ Support the café (not the one mentioned in the date) by dropping by the tip jar!
113 notes · View notes
ratmonky · 3 years
Text
Sweet Blossoms
this is a commission, my friend put a gun against my head to write this and I didn’t get to write any of my own ideas so you don’t tell me it sucked cuz i already know it did lol
Word Count: 4.8K
Warnings: unhealthy relationship, cheating, vanilla *bleh*
AO3 Link
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There was no way he could know what kind of flowers you liked so he had left you all sorts of kinds.
You crouched down and took the flower bouquet in your arms, looking around to see who had left them but you couldn’t see him when he was that far into the darkness. With the prettiest smile on your lips, you inhaled the sweet fragrances of different flowers all at once. It almost made you dizzy because of how strong each flower's aroma was.
Carefully walking back inside the apartment, you started looking for the note the cheap supermarket flowers usually came with. While you were handling the flowers, the note slipped and fell onto the floor, right where your boyfriend was standing.
“This again?” he sighed, taking the note. He opened the note shamelessly, reading it out loud. “(name), as pretty as these flowers are, they are nothing compared to your beauty. I hope you’re staying healthy and safe.” He flipped the note to see if there was more to it but when he realized there wasn’t, he tore it apart. “Sounds like a creep.”
“Don’t say that.” You frowned, watching the note get destroyed. “They are harmless.”
“No sane man would leave flowers for some college girl living with her boyfriend. He’s probably still out there rubbing one off.” He leaned to the wall. “I would,” he added with a smirk.
“Stop being vulgar.”
“You say that while wearing things like that. You look for attention as if I’m not giving ya enough.” His words made you look down at your outfit. It was just a sundress.
“You’re overreacting,” your voice was fainter than a whisper.
“Don’t play the victim now. If it weren’t for me, you’d be sucking someone off for money to afford to live in a smaller apartment than this. Maybe you’d join those hookers in the kabuki district if I stopped giving you attention, huh?”
Legs shaking, you pressed the bouquet of flowers to your chest. There wasn’t anything you could or wanted to say to him. He was being mean but he was right. Maybe you had to stop dressing up like this. If it weren’t for him you wouldn’t be able to afford your major or rent. Your boyfriend was paying for the rent while you continued studying and worked to save money to pay off your student loan.
“Never forget that you wouldn’t be shit without me.”
You rapidly nodded, avoiding making him any more upset.
“Good,” he sighed and put his hands on his hips. “Now, go wipe your face, you look like a clown.”
Your hand went to your cheek to feel your makeup over your skin. It was still smooth, not cakey at all but from the way he said it, perhaps it looked worse than you thought.
“Okay.”
Walking past him, you slipped the small piece of paper in your dress’s pocket without him noticing. You put the flowers in a vase before placing them next to the old ones. This wasn’t the first time you had received flowers from your secret admirer and you hoped it wouldn’t be the last time.
Back in your room, hastily you took out the small paper and grinned when a movie ticket greeted you.
~~~
There hadn’t been a time in your life where you put this much effort into how you were going to look like to go out.
Your boyfriend often didn’t like it when you dressed up or put on makeup, he usually made comments on how you looked that made you feel bad about your appearance. Although you knew he loved you, it hurt your confidence. His words affected you in ways you couldn’t describe.
It was one of the reasons why you were conscious of your appearance right now and why you kept tugging your skirt down, worried that you might be showing too much skin. You wouldn’t put your small compact mirror down either, you kept checking on your makeup.
Everyone was looking at you. Thinking that you’re a slut.
At least that was what your mind was telling you. No, that was something your boyfriend would say.
While trying to ignore your own thoughts, you walked up to the employee behind the counter and showed them your ticket to enter the movie theatre. They told you your ticket’s arranged seat number and you saw from the computer screen that the seat beside yours was occupied.
You took a deep breath to calm your senses. The only reason you were here was because of how curious you were, nothing else. You had been getting flowers every Friday for longer than a year now and not knowing the identity of your secret admirer was eating you up.
I’m only gonna take a peek, you promised yourself and walked inside the theatre. If it turned out to be a creep like your boyfriend kept telling you about, then you could just walk away. This was a public space so there was no need to feel anxious about what could happen.
It took you a long moment to find your seat at the furthest back row and get comfortable on the soft cushions. The place wasn’t empty but it wasn’t full of people either, yet the row you had your seat on was completely free.
Each passing minute was unbearable even when you were trying to busy your mind with your phone but nevertheless failed to notice it when someone took a seat next to you.
By the time you looked up, there was a familiar face sitting next to you.
“Junpei!” you gasped, he always managed to sneak up on people since his presence went unnoticed.
He couldn’t meet your gaze, “Hi, it’s been a while huh?”
“Yeahh,” you went on to say before looking around, the trailers were about to start since the lights dimmed, your secret admirer was nowhere to be seen. “Umm, you see, I’m glad to see you here but I’m waiting for someone, this seat is taken.”
His adam’s apple moved as he gulped, there was a sweat droplet that drizzled down from his cheek to his neck.
Your eyes then landed on his lap. He was holding a single rose in his hand, the flower shook in his grasp.
“Oh.” It dawned on you. “Okay.”
Junpei held the flower out for you to take but still averted his gaze from yours. Slowly, you took the rose from him and lifted it up to your nose, inhaling the sweet aroma.
“You can leave,” he whispered, trying not to break the unwritten rule of a movie theater. “I won’t judge.”
He had noticed how disappointed you looked when you found out it was him who had been leaving you those flowers, he wasn’t the aggressive type to force you to sit down with him like this. Entrapping you and making you feel uncomfortable was the last thing he wanted to do.
“Why?” you whispered back.
“You looked disappointed.”
You snorted, “I was surprised to find out my next-door neighbor and dropout classmate was my secret admirer.”
Someone shushed.
Trying to stifle your giggling, you continued. “You could’ve just asked me out normally.”
His cheeks flushed deep red and he finally met your eyes. “You have a boyfriend.”
You got quiet, “Yeah.”
I have a boyfriend. I have a boyfriend but I came here to meet my secret admirer. Why?
Perhaps it was because you wanted to feel validated. The poems you got with the flowers, at least the ones you managed to hide were special to you. Whenever you doubted yourself, rereading the poems gave you the confidence you lacked.
The movie started.
Junpei was fidgeting with his fingers, no matter how much he tried he couldn’t focus on the movie. He had been wanting to see this one since it came out, the hype around the release of this movie and the reviews he had read made him more excited than ever, yet… Since you were here, his thoughts were full of you.
From the corner of his eye, he could see that you were staring at the silver screen but your expression was blank as if you weren’t paying any attention either.
He opened his mouth to say something but a scream coming from the female lead interrupted him. His attention involuntarily directed itself to the screen and soon, he sort of got invested in the storyline as you were having an internal debate with yourself.
There was an exciting scene that had him gripping to the sides of his seat, he was about to comment on the scene when he turned to face you but you were already looking at him, blushing.
Junpei didn’t understand the reason why you were blushing until he looked down. In the heat of the moment, he had placed his hand on top of yours on the seat’s cup holder.
A blush matching yours spread on his face and neck, he apologized before proceeding to lift his hand but you prevented him from pulling away by holding his hand.
Then, you intertwined your fingers together with his while scooting closer to the edge of your seat to close the distance between the two of you.
In that quiet moment of your hand tightly holding his own, Junpei started nodding as if he understood something and returned his attention to the screen.
He couldn’t focus on the rest of the movie, rather he focused on how warm your hand was or how sweaty his palm was.
Your head softly leaned on his tense shoulder. A wave of panic made Junpei’s eye look at you if you had died because -why else would you put your head on his shoulder? Yet, you were very much alive and you were still holding his hand tightly. He didn’t dare to move, not sure what exactly to do either.
Whether it be the most rational thing that came up to his mind or his own curiosity on how it felt, he tilted his head until his cheek pressed against your hair. Your warmth was enough to warm his heart, it gave him the comfort he had thought he would never get. The delicious smell of your shampoo invaded his nostrils almost instantly, a genuine smile spread on his face as you continued leaning on him.
“Why did you leave those flowers?”
The question was sudden.
“Because I… I have feelings for you.” His voice was quieter than a whisper out of consideration to not interrupt other people’s enjoyment of the movie.
“Why?”
“Why?” he echoed, thinking what to answer. There were too many reasons why. He couldn’t come up with just one. “Because you’re you.”
“What does that mean?” You lifted your head up to look at him.
“Well, it means that I like…” Geez, it was hard to say it out loud when you were looking. His cheeks were burning up and his eye was looking at everything but yours. “You’re beautiful and considerate. You care about others and you’re selfless. I guess I like you because you were kind to me back in high school.” The memory brought a smile to his complexion, you two were in the same film appreciation club in the past and were close friends if not best friends. “You’re not scared to be yourself. You always know what you want in life. I always wanted to be like you or rather be with you, kinda like adornment with a dash of being in love with you... I guess.”
Was he really describing you or some idea he had about you?
There was no way of knowing. You didn’t know who you were anymore. Not after you started dating your boyfriend.
If you had asked your boyfriend to describe you, what would he say?
Nevermind, you didn’t want to know.
“Hey,” Junpei called in a panicked voice, someone in the audience shushed again. “Are you alright? Did I say something wrong?”
You shook your head, tightening your hand around his while your eyes sparkled with gratitude. It made you look so kissable, your lips being parted slightly only made the thought a lot more irresistible.
Junpei’s face leaned closer to yours, he was moving hesitantly and slowly, waiting for your reaction. Instead of moving away, you were just staring at him but he felt like he was forcing you again.
Wanting you to make the decision, he stopped himself and closed his eyes, brows furrowing as his anxiety was eating him up. His heart hammered through his chest and he waited and waited and waited until something soft pressed on his lips.
He peeked with one eye to look at your face, the view made his heart skip a beat. Your eyes were closed, eyelashes fluttering as your glossy lips moved against his own. Having not much experience, he followed your lead, parting his lips and mirroring the way you moved yours, ignoring how wildly his body shook from excitement.
You tasted as sweet as you looked, your perfume filled his lungs and made his head spin. He was being conscious about a lot of things as your hand that was holding him moved to his shoulder and then to his neck to card your fingers through the short strands.
He could feel your warmth through your lips better than when he held your hand. He experimentally snaked his tongue inside your mouth to get a better glimpse of how you actually tasted.
Almost immediately, you opened your mouth to allow him entrance, letting his tongue hesitantly move along with yours. Teeth clashed once or twice but it did nothing other than making you giggle into the kiss.
His hand went to your cheek to caress it and pull your face closer until he could get a better angle to kiss you. There was something so endearing about the way he touched you, his touch was gentle, loving even. Something you hadn’t felt in a long time.
Once he pulled himself back, the small wet strands connecting your lips together thinned and broke apart.
Junpei was completely red and you knew you weren’t any different. His lips were swollen and pink, eyes full of admiration as he was looking at you. He was cherishing this moment.
The lights turned on, ruining the mood.
Both of you flinched and jumped back on your seats, unaware how you were practically on his lap before. It was kind of comedic, nobody would have cared if they saw two people being lovey-dovey in the back row of a theatre since it was something common yet both of you were acting like two young lovers who had been busted by their parents.
The awkwardness went away only after you exited the theater, holding Junpei’s hand.
“Your dress is really pretty,” he said to break the silence as you were walking down the street.
“Thanks, it has pockets,” you chirped, putting your free hand inside the small pocket to show it to him. “This is my favorite dress!”
“Cute,” he chuckled. His cheeks were still faintly blushed red but not as visible as before. Although his mind was clouded by many things and what was going to happen next, he didn’t dare to say anything that could ruin your smile. Not only because you looked gorgeous with a smile on your face but also because he knew you needed it.
“Junpei.”
“Hmm?”
“Wanna stop by somewhere?”
“Like for dinner? Sure, although I’m not hungry, I can watch you eat.”
“No,” you uttered, pointing towards somewhere.
Junpei’s eye followed where you were pointing your finger and his mouth gaped, cheeks flushing bright red instantaneously. He looked at you to see that you were blushing as well.
“It’s okay if you don’t wanna.” You were regretting making the suggestion.
“No, I wanna, definitely, yes, go.” He had to take a deep breath to calm himself before saying something that made sense. “You asked too suddenly.”
Nonetheless, you were the embarrassed one. He had to swallow down his own embarrassment to sheepishly drag you across the street and into the red light district. The hotel you had been pointing at had a large neon sign that read some nonsense like ‘secret getaway’ on it. You wondered if it was the absurdity of the sign or the situation which made you point at this specific hotel.
In front of the entrance, he hesitated walking inside.
“I can pay,” you said, mistaking the reason why he was hesitating.
“You don’t need to, I was just… thinking.” He was blushing again, how was he going to say this. He didn’t dare to say it out loud. Ugh, he had to. “I-I d-don’t have a condom with me.”
“I think they might sell some inside,” you hummed before getting on your tiptoes to whisper, “You don’t need one anyway.”
This time, his blood rushed south.
Your eyes landed on the not-so-small problem and softly giggled. “I guess I have to check us in, huh?”
“Please…” He used a hand to cover his face in embarrassment. “Don’t tease me about this.”
“I’ll try not to,” you said, pulling him inside the hotel, he quickly pulled his shirt down to cover the front of his pants. The reception was quiet, you chose a room that was the cheapest and got your room key from the receptionist.
Junpei let go of your hand to dive it in his pocket to fish out his wallet to pay for the room but you stopped him. He looked at you in question and you shook your head, retaking his hand. “We’ll pay when we’re leaving since we’re paying by the hour.”
He hadn’t realized how uninformed he was about this sort of stuff until today. He nodded slowly and let you lead him to the elevator and then to your room.
The awkward atmosphere was back as soon as you stepped inside the room. You finally let go of his hand to take off your shoes. While you placed your own neatly by the entrance hall, Junpei had just kicked off his shoes, leaving them as they were.
You walked further inside the room after fixing his shoes and placing them next to yours.
Junpei was busy checking the minibar as you sat on the bed, taking out your phone from your purse to check the time. It was close to evening time, your boyfriend would be back home soon. Shaking your head, you put your phone away and focused your stare on Junpei’s back. “Thank you.”
“For w-what?” His shoulders tensed at your words, it made you smile.
“For the flowers and the notes you left by my door.” You laid down on your back to feel how soft the sheets were. “Receiving them made me excited and feel validated.”
“I-it was nothing.” He walked over to the bed, it was too late to drink anything from the minibar, on top of that, the prices were way too expensive. “I always thought you found them stalkerish.”
The bed sank and creaked as he sat next to you.
“My boyfriend did.” Ah, right. Saying it out loud made you realize how silly the situation was. You were in a love hotel with someone who sent you flowers despite having a boyfriend.
“Yeah.” He didn’t know what to say, the mood had changed again.
Thankfully, you knew what to say.
“Have you ever jerked off to me?”
Caught off guard, Junpei squealed but then forced himself to laugh to avoid answering the question.
“Hmm?” You lifted your head from the bed to look at him, determined to get an answer to your question.
“I can’t answer that…” His voice died off lamely, maybe he shouldn’t have said anything.
“It’s just a question,” you replied, encouraging him to tell you the truth.
He mumbled.
“What?” You smirked, “I couldn’t hear you.”
“I said maybe!” He covered his face with his hands. Another involuntary blush colored his cheeks and neck. The sound of the fabric rustling as you perhaps leaned closer to him filled the room, but all he could hear was his heartbeat in his ears. It seemed like an eternity until you said something.
“How?” you asked, almost sheepishly.
His eye opened widely. Was he hearing things? “What?”
“How did you do it?” His eye met yours again, then turned down briefly to his lap before returning his attention toward you.
He was frozen. He slowly processed your words, pausing for a moment. Had you really asked him that? Did he imagine that? Junpei stayed in his position for a while. He didn't dare to move.
You put a hand on his knee, sending a shiver down his spine as your hand moved up to his thigh.
“(name),” he breathed, the anticipation of what was to come made his cock twitch in his pants.
“Junpei,” you echoed, grabbing his thigh and letting your fingers brush against the growing bulge. “Tell me, how did you?”
He was biting his lip as your hands fiddled with his pants, pulling the zipper down and humming.
It all felt like a dream, something he would have fantasized about when he had his hand wrapped around his cock late at night. Not something that would actually happen in a million years. Yet, it was happening right now at this moment.
“I imagined you touching me,” he revealed when you cupped his bulge.
“How?”
“Naked and-” You tugged at the front of his pants, he lifted his hips and pulled them down.
“And?” Your fingers hooked under the waistband of his boxers, smiling mischievously.
“Under me,” he gasped as you pulled his underwear down to free his half-hard cock.
“Under you?” Wrapping a hand around the base of his cock, you lowered your mouth towards his cock, lolling out your tongue, you let your drool drizzle down on him. Slowly, you moved your hand from the base to the tip, spreading your drool to use it as lubrication.
“Y-yeah.” His hands gripped the sheets tightly. His cock was fully hard and was throbbing in your hand. “Under me.”
Your hand pumped his cock for the first time, it made a faint click sound. “Tell me more.” Using your thumb, you gently pulled back the thin layer of skin to expose the tip of his cock that was glistening with precum. With your forefinger, you tapped on the liquid and moved your finger away to see how far it would stretch. “Or better, why don’t you demonstrate it for me?”
Something snapped inside him.
Junpei grabbed you by your hair and pulled you up before locking your lips together in less than a second. His hand continued pulling you closer to himself while his tongue slipped out to explore your mouth once again. You sucked on his tongue and stroked his cock while grabbing a chunk of his hair in your other hand. You pulled his hair and opened your mouth widely to take the lead and this time you wanted to savor his taste.
Junpei’s free hand went to your ass, groping it and squeezing it as tightly as he could to get you to moan into the kiss and when you did, he lifted your leg to take you under him. Now, he was able to press himself on you.
You turned your face away for Junpei to kiss your neck, so you could jerk him off faster. He pecked on your neck and licked the sensitive skin until he reached your collarbone to nibble on your skin. Desperate to leave a mark of possession.
“Junpei,” you chanted, wanting to warn him about not leaving a mark. “Don’t-”
His teeth sank into your skin, hard enough to draw blood and your body squirmed in pleasure under him. An intense moan left your lips and you retrieved your hand from his cock to instead push his hair back.
Exposing his forehead, made him pull himself back from you. None of you dared to say anything as you gazed at each other. Your eyes were on his scars, albeit you were shocked, you managed to not show it on your face and instead pulled him closer to press a gentle kiss on his scars.
Your hands slid down to his cheeks and you squished them together, before pulling them back to take off your panties. You didn’t even get to take them off properly as Junpei balanced himself on a balled-up fist and hiked the skirt of your dress up. Although you wanted to offer him to take off your dress and panties, he was already positioning himself between your legs.
He stood still for a moment to look at you under him. Legs spread, hair and dress a mess while panties stuck on one ankle. He had never imagined he would see you like this when he left his house today. If he did, he would have been a lot more prepared.
Like bringing a condom.
“Is it really okay?” he asked.
You nodded, not really understanding what he was asking.
Without wasting another precious second, Junpei tapped his cock on your clit, dragging the tip back and forth between your folds before pushing the tip in. He pushed in deeper, letting out a groan in the process when your gummy walls squeezed around him.
You gasped softly, legs wrapping around his hips.
He took a moment to get himself together, it felt like he was going to cum if he moved. This was nothing like what he had imagined.
Whimpering, you moved your hips to tell him to move.
Junpei nodded, unable to let a single syllable out because of the way you clenched around him. He took a deep breath before tentatively pulling his hips back and slamming into you.
Your lips opened in a silent moan and he leaned down to press his lips onto yours as his hips started moving. His pace was irregular, the snap of his hips was brutal but his cock stroked all the good spots.
Arms wrapping around his neck, you held onto him for dear life when his cock began hammering into you. The girth of his cock was stretching you to your limit but the length was worse, with each snap of his hips, you felt the tip kiss your cervix.
The kiss turned sloppy soon enough, both of you were covered in each other's drool from moving your lips clumsily and thanks to the impact of Junpei humping your cunt like a rabid dog in heat.
His hands went to fondle your tits, he pulled the front of your dress down and dove his hands inside your bra to pinch your nipples, he was excitedly breathing into your mouth.
Both of you were close, he knew because you were a moaning mess, moving your hips desperately to meet his thrusts and his cock was twitching inside you because of how you wanted him like he wanted you.
“I’m- I’m gonna-” He couldn’t even finish his sentence.
When you felt his cock throbbing inside you, your legs wrapped around him tighter preventing him from pulling out. Once it occurred to him that you weren’t letting him go, he surged his forward as far as he could to bury his cock deep in your pussy. The tip of his cock pressed against your cervix and your gummy walls clenched around him.
Junpei’s eye rolled up while he spilled his seed inside your womb and in your pussy, filling you up to the brim. He pulled out to watch his seed oozing out from your gaping hole, he used his thumb to spread your folds wider and smiled in awe.
A moan left your lips, legs shaking in the pleasure of your tummy being full of his cum.
Junpei crawled next to you and put his head on your chest, his hand playing with your breast over your bra as the two of you caught your breaths.
There was a soft silence while you petted his hair and watched the ceiling.
You didn’t know what time it was but it had been long enough.
It was time to go home.
When you arrived at your apartment building, you retrieved your hand that was holding Junpei’s reluctantly. The smile Junpei wished you didn’t lose on your face was gone, instead, there was a broken smile.
He opened the building door for you and pressed the elevator call button. You were clutching on your purse, looking everywhere but his way. Maybe you were thinking that you made a mistake, Junpei knew he couldn’t compete with your boyfriend after all.
The elevator doors opened. The two of you got in. He pressed your floor. After an agonizingly long pause, the doors closed with a soft bell chime.
Having previously made your decision, you grabbed Junpei by his collar and pulled him down to kiss him greedily. Dumbfounded, he kissed you back. Although he wanted to use his hands to caress your body, the elevator’s bell chimed again, alerting that the doors were opening.
You pecked on his lips before letting go of his collar, brightly beaming at him.
His lips curled up into a smile matching yours.
Together, you walked past his apartment and to your place while holding hands, thankfully moving your stuff to the next door was easy.
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actualfarless · 2 years
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The Engineer And The Witch: Part III
Read Part 1 Here
Read Part 2 Here
Story below or available on Wattpad or Reddit.
Walden wrapped his arms around Tera. She stiffened at first, hesitating to believe she was awake, then fell into her fathers embrace. Tears welled in her eyes. The stench of sweat and days unwashed stung her nostrils. The butt of a gun dug into her stomach. Still Tera clung to him. She pulled him tighter, clutching the itchy fabric of his cloak in her hands, digging into his shoulder with her fingers.
She couldn’t tell how much time passed before she finally let go. A thousand questions raced through her mind and not one managed to escape her lips. She could only stare in disbelief at the man who should be dead. A ghost.
Age didn’t suit him. The years thinned his arms and face. Tera’s father was never a larger man — not tall nor muscular like her — but now he looked frail. He shaved his thick black hair close to his scalp. A beard now lined his jaw, unkempt and streaked with grey, more grey than she remembered on her father’s face. Lines formed around his deep brown eyes. Eyes that held darkness.
Eyes that no longer belonged to her father.
The three of them stood around a table in the room above Tera’s workshop — her makeshift dining set-up when she could find time to clear it, though half-finished personal projects cluttered the space now. Tera swept her work aside and, still unable to find her voice, motioned to Cyan-2 for tea.
Mayer changed too. They sat on Tera’s unused bed, hand cupped in their chin, watching the reunion with the feigned disinterest that defined them. Their hair was long now. Tufts of brown hid the scar on their scalp. The sun reddened their face, though they otherwise looked as pale as ever. Their green eyes widened as Cyan-2 set a cup in front of them.
“I haven’t had tea since the war started,” they said.
With those simple words, the dam broke and Tera’s thoughts found sound. “Take what you want; I have plenty. It was a gift. No sugar though. Too expensive. Everything goes to the mainland first. We get the scraps if we’re lucky. Even here.”
“This is more than enough.” Mayer held the cup to their lips, eyes closed, breathing in the fragrance. “Coming back was not a mistake.”
“Why are you back?”
“We need a ship. Ports usually have them.”
“Everything here belongs to the kingdom. You deserted.”
“You think they won’t let me borrow one?” Mayer snorted at their own joke. “I thought you could help. You—”
“I asked them,” Walden interrupted. “Mayer said they knew you and I… I had to see you. I didn’t know what to expect. I’m surprised.”
“Surprised?”
“You were so young when the war started. I hoped it would be over before you graduated. I never wanted you to see this. I never wanted you to fight.
“Mayer told me about the ship. The explosion. Your leg. I didn’t think I would find you doing so well. I should have known better.” Her father smiled into his teacup. “I remember when you first met that engineer — what was his name? Ah, doesn’t matter. You came home covered in grease and so exhausted you fell asleep at the dinner table. I’d never seen you smile so much before. I carried you to bed. I still could then. You7 woke up for a moment, only a moment, and told me — do you remember?”
“I want to be an engineer.”
“I want to be an engineer,” he repeated. “You were always so good with tools. You understood things in a way I could never.”
“I broke everything I touched.”
“That’s not true. You know that’s not true. You fixed everything. Made it better. The engineer — Li, that was his name — Li told me himself. And now you have your own workshop. I am so proud of you, my Tera.”
For a moment, Tera basked in her father’s praise. His pride was not hard earned. He rarely shied from a chance to offer it, but after six years, his words filled her heart. Her clients left kind reviews, often in the form of referrals and continued service. Bann applauded her work as well. But nothing could compare to her father. His words came at no cost. He expected no exchange. Yet nothing could compare.
Her father was proud of her.
That should have been enough.
“The workshop belongs to the inquisition.”
Her father’s smile faded. “You joined the inquisition?”
“I’ve changed my mind. Coming to Port Talen was foolish.” Mayer spoke into their tea, almost too quiet to be heard. Almost.
“I was recruited. After the Eon Heart sank, I lived in the hospital. I couldn’t find work with the kingdom because of this —” Tera patted her metal leg — “and I couldn’t find work with the colonists because I belonged to the kingdom. I was alone.
“You never replied,” she said, her words now laced with bitter venom. “I wrote letters. Every day at first, then every week. I sent them through the office. I know they went with the post. You never replied.”
Eyes wet with tears, Tera met her father’s darkened gaze. Her cheeks burned with anger, yet one look at the worn lines across her face and all gave way to regret. The weight only grew as he considered her words. With a deep breath, Tera softened her tone.
“Bann — the inquisitor — told me she would look you. She told me I shouldn’t expect to see you again. I thought you were dead.”
“I should be.”
“Why didn’t you write back?”
“I never received the letters. I truly am sorry, Tera. If I could have let you know, I would have.”
“Tell her why.”
“I ran.”
“That’s not it.”
“Yes, Mayer, it is. I am a coward. I deserted. There is nothing more.” Tera’s father turned back to her. “I never wished for you to see me like this. I wanted to be someone you could admire. Someone you could look up to. I failed in that.”
“You didn’t,” she said quietly.
“I never wished to hurt you, Tera. I think the inquisition suits you. I would have stayed, if not for the war. They were good to me. They will be good to you.”
Mayer scoffed. Walden ignored them.
Tera dried the tears that stained her cheeks. “You’re not here to recruit me.”
“I deserted, but I am not a rebel. I couldn’t ask you to leave this. You’ve wanted your own workshop for so long.”
“My offer still stands,” Mayer said.
Walden continued. “I had to see you before we left. I missed you.”
“I missed you too. Both of you. What will you do now?”
“Mayer and I will find a ship. We will wait out the war in the islands. After that, I don’t know. I fear I can never return to Bar Tannis again. The mainland will be too dangerous as well. We may be able to come back here. I don’t know what will happen in the colonies. When I can, when it won’t put you at risk, I will write. I promise, I will.”
“Stay the night. I’ll help. You can have the bed. I don’t use it. Stay.”
“You have a ship?” Mayer asked.
“I know someone. One of the junkers has his own ship. Tomorrow, I’ll take you to him. I’ll pay your fare. But I need you to answer something first.” Tera paused. She set her gaze on Mayer. “Why is the inquisition after you?”
“Who asked for me?”
“Bann.”
“What did you say?”
“I told her you died when the ship sank. I never thought I’d see you again. I didn’t want to put you in danger. I thought I was doing the right thing, but… I’ve heard her stories. I know the kind of people she’s after. I know why you deserted. I don’t blame you for that, but the inquisition doesn’t hunt deserters. I need to know, what did you do?”
“Isn’t it obvious?”
“Did you sabotage the Eon Heart?”
The room fell silent at the question, save for the gentler patter of rain on the workshop roof. The gas-fed flames flickered within their lamp. A scowl crossed Mayer’s face. Without a word, they rose to their feet. Their eyes were cold and sunken and hollow, sending a chill down Tera’s spine. She couldn’t turn away as Mayer peered into her soul.
When they spoke, their voice was a whisper, but in the quiet of the room, every word carried weight.
“How dare you? You have no right. You knew Gharos for what? Three months? Four? I knew him for years. I loved him for years. I begged him to leave with me. I did everything I could to keep him alive and now you ask me if I killed him. You have no right, Tera.
“You wish to know what I’ve done? Fine. I am a witch. At least, that’s what the kingdom called me when I had a different name. That’s what they called my parents too. I believed them then. They stole me from my home and took me to one of their hidden cities. They tried to turn me into one. I spent years as an apprentice to Keldan Avros. He was the one who took me from my family. He told me I was important to the kingdom. I was a child. I did not question him. I had no reason to. In all my seven years of life, I’d been raised to respect the kingdom and its authority.
“I eventually learned my parents’ fate. The inquisition slaughtered them. Keldan told me they were a danger to our civilization, that I could be rehabilitated, but they could not. That was when I first saw the kingdom’s hypocrisy. That my parents — farmers and loyalists — were sentenced to death for the same gifts that enables the inquisition. I could not kill Keldan, so I ran. That is when I got this scar.”
Mayer ran their hand through their hair, brushing their fingers over the scar.
“I met Gharos after I changed my name,” they continued. “I wanted to live in peace. I didn’t care if it was the colonies or an island or the outreaches, so long as we were far from the kingdom and its spies. But Gharos was a loyalist. I never would have joined the navy, if not for him. I would have run again. I knew they would figure me out one day. The inquisition would murder me like they killed my parents. It was worth it to be with him. Gharos was worth dying for.”
Mayer narrowed their eyes at Tera. “And you ask me if I killed him.”
“I… I’m sorry. I am.”
“Good. Then they’ve not made you a complete monster yet.” They turned to Walden. “Secrets won’t protect her. I upheld my end of the deal. Make your peace with your daughter. We leave in the morning.”
Without another word, Mayer left. Tera tried to follow, but her legs refused to move. Instead, she sat in silence with her father until the tea cooled and the rain stopped.
“They’ll come around,” her father said.
“Will they? I don’t think so. Every time I see them, they leave.” Tera sighed. “What does it matter? I had to… I had to know. Now I’ll never see them again.”
“I didn’t realize you two were so close.”
“We weren’t. I hardly saw them on the Eon Heart, but when the ship sank, they saved me. I would have drowned in the bay.”
Walden nodded. A small smile formed on his lips. “I owe them more than my own life, it seems.”
“Do you really have to go? I am doing well enough. I could house you. The war hasn’t been to Port Talen since I’ve been here. I don’t know what happened out there, Dad, but I don’t care. You’ll be safe. Please don’t leave.”
His smile faded. “I’m sorry.”
“Please.”
“It’s not the war I’m running from. I am not like Mayer; I love the kingdom. It breaks my heart to see it so divided. I hope for a swift end to the war. I do wish I could stay, but I… Tera, I don’t know how I can describe what I saw. It was a monster. There is no other word for it.”
“Then tell the inquisitors. I can introduce you to Bann. She can help.”
“I can’t.”
“Hunting monsters is what they do.”
“I was with an inquisitor. Her apprentice too. I don’t remember if I told you that. They took command of my unit and pushed us deeper into the frontier. She never told us what she was looking for, not until we found it.” A wide smile spread across his lips, but his eyes didn’t change. “A temple! Carved into a mountain and far from civilization, but as impressive as any in the kingdom. We thought we found riches. The treasures in the temple belonged to the inquisitors, of course, but we thought they wouldn’t notice. Not if we only took small things.”
“Did you steal from the inquisition?”
Walden bit his lip, turning from Tera’s gaze. He nodded.
“Dad—”
“There’s more. This temple, this place… It is not what you expect. It is no place of reverence. The halls were quiet. Cold. Even at noon, I could feel the chill in my bones. Nothing living dared come near. No animals. No plants. Only dried roots and rotten limbs. Not even the dar hounds would approach.
“We spent three weeks in the temple while she studied it. I did not understand the evil I felt at first. I felt it in the air, something that seeped into my skin and chilled my bones. Shadows lurked on the corner of my vision. Not just mine. My fellows said the same. We heard voices too. Whispers from the darkness. I thought if we returned the gifts, they would leave us alone. I wish I hadn’t been so naive. So far from civilization, so worn down, I knew the stress would ruin us. I tried to tell the inquisitor, but I was too late. I could not stop the violence. I… I could not stop myself.”
Hunched over the table, Walden clutched his head in his hands, nails digging into his skull. Tears stung his eyes. He drew ragged breaths. “I killed them.”
Tera wanted to comfort the sobbing man at her table. She wanted to reach out and hold him, to whisper soothing words and ease his burden like he had done for her so many times. But her legs and arms would not listen. No kind words left her lips.
“I felt it in my mind,” he continued. “I cannot describe it, cannot imagine its features, but for a time, I could see its face. I knew it was there, yet I could not resist. It was like a dream — a nightmare, but I was awake, a prisoner in my own body. They died in my arms. I saw the life drain from their eyes.”
Tera stared into her teacup, swirling the dregs around, lost at what to say. Her words seemed inadequate. Nothing she could do would help him anyway. There was no bully to punch. No machine to fix. Only her father’s guilt.
“I hear them still. I hear them scream. I hear them weep. They speak to me when I sleep. I… I hear shadow too. It’s quiet compared to the others, but it’s there.” Walden sniffed. He dried his eyes on his sleeve and strained a smile, though it faltered a moment later. The darkness never left his unfocused eyes. “I’m sorry. This is not your burden.”
“We can find someone to help. There are doctors who understand this sort of thing. Stay. Please.”
“I endanger you.”
“Bann will keep us safe. If you tell her— she won’t care that you tried to take something. She can protect you if you stay.”
“I can’t.”
Tera tried to keep her tone calm, but the anger bubbled inside her. “Why not? I’m not afraid of that monster. I’m not afraid of you. You would never hurt me.”
“It knows me. That is why I cannot stay. Maybe once the war is done, once there is less chaos, I can return to the kingdom, but I will never be safe here.” He sighed. “I was not the only one affected. When I came to my senses, the inquisitor was there, but I felt the monster’s power in her. The inquisition cannot protect us from it. When I realized that, I ran. I dropped my rifle and I ran away from the temple until I couldn’t run any more. I wanted to escape, but I feel it everywhere now, a constant chill in my veins.”
“But—”
“I’m tired. We’ll discuss in the morning.” Walden stood, circling around the table until he could pull Tera into a tight hug. “I love you, Tera. Don’t forget that.”
And then, Tera was alone once more.
Sleep weighed heavily on Tera as she descended the steps to her workshop. Even as she wrapped her hands around her tools, vainly attempting to turn anxiety into productivity, her thoughts became clouded. Mayer she knew had secrets, long before they saved her from the ship. Her father, however… he was not the man Tera remembered. Real or imagined, the monster changed him.
Her father hadn’t died, but Tera worried he was lost all the same.
She woke to a gentle drum of rain on the roof, hazy morning light gently falling through the workshop window, and Bann. Startled, Tera nearly fell out of her chair, catching herself on the edge of the table before she hit the ground, but not quick enough to catch the tools that clattered to the ground. She flinched at the sound, booming in the morning quiet. Bann watched with a slight smile and a teacup in her hand.
“Hello, Tera.”
“Bann, I— hi.”
“Rough night?”
“I didn’t know you were coming. I would have cleaned. Cleared a table at least. Have you been here long?”
“A minute or two. I’d only asked C2 to make a cup of tea.” The inquisitor slid a small wooden box across the table. “I brought more. This is from Yultipis.”
“Oh, thank you.” Tera pulled the box close to her nose and breathed in the earthy fragrance. She sighed. A sleepy smile spread across her face. “What were you doing there?”
“My work takes me to all corners of the kingdom. It’s all very secretive, you know.”
“Yes, of course.” Tera nodded with feigned seriousness. “You would never share.”
“No, no, I couldn’t.” Bann laughed. “Well, fine, if you insist. There was a blight. When the city was first settled, the villagers burned the forest to clear land for farms. A witch saved one tree. The story is boring and the events were well before my time. Just know, witchcraft, vengeance, and the deep memory of a tree make a blight.”
“Sure, okay,” Tera said. She learned early on to accept the inquisitor's explanations for all things magic. No doubt there was more to it, but even mekanica seemed like witchcraft to the untrained. The knowledge was too specialized. “What did you do?”
“Killed it.”
“How?”
“That is not an interesting story I’m afraid. I trapped it. I cut it to pieces. I burned it. Blights are rare, yes, but they hardly a threat. A bounty hunter could do the same.” Bann sighed. “The governor is an old friend of mine. I don’t think I could have turned my attention away from the war otherwise. Not when we are so close to victory. Did you know they’ve tried to rally the islands?”
“I think I read that.”
“Action of the desperate. We broke the islands before. They were nothing but pirates and thieves. They’re no better now.”
“So this won’t affect shipping.”
“All business. The metal shortage is still a problem?”
“I’ve found a solution.”
“Scrappers then? Ah, I will ask no more. Best I don’t know.”
Whistling a tune to themself, Cyan-2 cleared the table of Tera’s clutter, replacing parts with a porcelain cup filled to the brim with tea. Tera savored the bitter taste. Tera rose to her feet, groaning and stretching and ignoring the horrible sounds her joints made. She rubbed out the soreness of her neck as she retrieved a clean cloth and toolkit.
“Have you considered buying a bed?”
“I have one.”
“Have you tried using it? It might help with… that.”
Tera laughed and shook her head. “No. How’s the hand?”
The inquisitor removed her glove and flexed her mekanica fingers for Tera to see. Aside from a scuff on the palm, Bann’s hand was spotless. Tera gently pulled on each finger, checking for resistance and feeling the articulation.
“It looks fine,” she said.
“Believe it or not, my friend, this is a social visit.”
“Oh.”
“You are much like me, when I was your age. Work consumed all, no time to relax. You know well there is always more to do than can be done.” Bann took Tera’s hands in hers, echoing the engineer’s tests with flesh. “I will tell you something I wish I heard. There is no shame in occasionally indulging your desires.”
Tera raised an eyebrow.
“What I am saying is, there is no need to hide your romantic interests from me. I know they lean cold-blooded. I do not judge.”
Tera’s face flushed. She pulled away and coughed tea into her hand. “I don’t… my ‘interests’ are tall and strong.”
“And it must be hard to find someone taller than you.” Bann passed Tera a cloth to clean herself. The porcelain hardly made a sound as she set her teacup down. With a heavy sigh, her smile faded to a thin line and she pulled the black glove back on her hand. “So there is no one here?”
“No.”
The inquisitor narrowed her eyes. “Hm. Disappointing.”
“It’s like you said, there’s always more work to—”
“Tera, stop. I know you don’t think me stupid. You are not a good liar and you try far too often. I might have been willing to look the other way, were he an unfortunate choice of partner. But lie to me? I cannot have that.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Do you know what the ether feels like? I doubt you do. It is cold. Not like winter, not like ice, but an absence of heat. It is irritating. It is painful. It is death that lurks beneath your skin, trying to escape, to manifest on its own. Trying to exist within you and beyond you. My order trains us to manage the cold. We learn to lessen the pain, to ignore the itch within us.” Bann rested her hand on the hilt of her sword. Any trace of humor vanished from her face. “Through that, we learn to feel it in others. That is how and why we hunt witches. So tell me, who are you hiding?”
Tera felt the urge to lie. She opened her mouth to deny, but the inquisitor’s steady gaze quelled that impulse. Bann looked the same as when Tera first met her: no warmth, no smile, only the stern eyes of the inquisition. The savior bearing gifts of tea gave way to what Bann had always been: an inquisitor.
Nothing more. Nothing less.
“Please don’t,” Tera whispered. “Don’t hurt them. I’ll do anything.”
“How can I trust that when you lie to me? After everything I have done for you, everything the kingdom has done, this is how you repay us? It is a shame, Tera. I did consider you a friend.”
“Please.”
Bann shook her head. Scanning the room, her eyes rested on every possible hiding spot until her gaze fell on the loft. She smirked.
“At least someone slept in your bed. You can come out now,” she said, raising her voice to be heard. “There is no point in hiding anymore.”
Bann drummed her fingers on the hilt, each finger a second on a clock, ticking down and down and down, timing the silence until a minute passed. Then another. Even with the rising storm outside, rain now joined by howling winds, Tera could only hear the sound of Bann’s mekanica hand. The inquisitor’s steady gaze never moved from the loft door, even as Tera backed away, closer to Cyan-2, though further from her escape. Not that she could flee even if she wished. She had no ship and a metal leg. Bann would find her.
The door to the loft creaked open.
Dressed in their long dark coats, Mayer and Walden stepped forward. They aimed their pistols at Bann as they descended, stopping just a few steps shy of the ground. Walden’s hand shook. Mayer’s was steady.
“Mayer Dunn, alive again I see.”
“Hello, Inquisitor…”
“Jo. Inquisitor Bann Jo.”
“Tera’s patron.”
“Yes.” Bann glanced to Tera’s father. “You, I don’t recognize.”
“Walden Bec.”
“Ah. How convenient for all my problems to come to me. You’re different than Tera described.”
“I’m older.”
“That’s not what I meant. She has great reverence for you. She told me you were an honorable man. A loyalist. She did not tell me you were a witch. Don’t deny it, Mister Bec. I see the darkness in your eyes.” The corners of her lips curled into a smile. “Do you intend to shoot me? Do you trust your aim?”
“I just want to leave. Let us go and you’ll never see me again.”
“You would let your daughter inherit your sins?”
Tera’s heart seized in her chest. A chill crept down her spine as Bann’s eyes flicked to her. The inquisitor didn’t make threats. She made a promise.
Walden’s mouth drew into a tight line. “Leave Tera out of this.”
“I would like to. She is a valuable asset. She remained loyal even when those around her failed. There had been missteps, but they were minor, or so I thought. You two lead her astray. Her treason extends only as far as the pair of you. Surrender and I might forgive her.”
“You’re holding her hostage?”
“I am giving you a chance to prove her right.” Bann stopped drumming her fingers. “I grow tired of this conversation. You are guilty. You know your crimes. Shoot me or don’t. You will die either way.”
Tera hadn’t seen the inquisitor draw her blade. She heard the gunshot. The sound thundered through the workshop. She saw the teacup shatter. Shards of white porcelain exploded onto the floor and table. But she had not seen Bann react. The inquisitor now held her blade in a reverse grip, the flat drawn across her body. She stood now in a wide stance. Three fingers of her mekanica hand wrapped around the hilt of the heavy blade. The other two fell in pieces to the floor.
Smoke rose from the pistol in Mayer’s hand. Tera’s father stared with wide eyes on the step below. Frozen by fear — or by the ether, Tera couldn’t say — Walden made no resistance as Mayer pulled the gun from his hand, cocking back the hammer and aiming for Bann’s chest.
For a heartbeat, for two more more, the room was silent. Rain collected and pooled on the roof and fell to the floor in single drops. Bann shifted her sword to her good hand and ran a finger along the edge of the wide, flat blade. She pointed it at Mayer, mimicking their stance, challenging them. But if they understood, they did not acknowledge her.
“I am old and slow,” she said, “but I am still a kingdom knight. For Tera, I will give you one last chance to lay down your arms. Are you sure you want to try this?”
“If I'm dying either way.”
Bann moved before the hammer fell and the boom of gunfire filled the room. She covered the distance in seconds, only three strides — maybe four. Her body twisted and her blade followed. A spark flashed in the room as the inquisitor’s blade met the bullet. Bann carried forward, swinging her sword in a wide arc, throwing her weight and momentum into the strike.
Mayer tackled Walden down the steps, narrowly avoiding the inquisitor’s blade as she smashed through the banister, showering them in wood and splinters. Walden landed on his arm and howled in pain.
Mayer found their feet before Bann could follow through with another swing. Darting forward, they drove their shoulder into her, knocking the inquisitor off balance. Mayer pressed their advantage. They pulled a dagger unlike any Tera had ever seen. A cupped guard protected the hilt and the blade itself was jagged and uneven, ending in a thin point.
The remains of a fractured sword.
Bann’s eyes widened at the weapon, only for a moment before she regained her composure. Tightening her grip, Bann moved to the defensive. Her movements were slower than Mayer, each swing of her heavy blade more deliberate, yet she met their broken sword every time. Their blades clashed with clangs of steel. Bann maintained distance from Mayer as best she could, leading them in a tight circle around the center of the workshop. Her eyes never left the witch.
Shielded from the fight by Cyan-2, Tera moved to her father. Walden crouched behind one of her unfinished mekanica frames. He held a pistol between his knees. His hands shook as he poured gunpowder down the barrel, spilling more on the floor than in the gun. He flinched as Tera grabbed his shoulder.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered. He watched the fight with fearful eyes and fumbled with the small metal projectiles. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”
Tera placed her hands over his and steadied them. With a strained smile — her feeble attempt at comfort — she took the gun and tucked it into her pants. “We’ll figure this out.”
“I knew it would come for me. I knew I would lead it to you.”
“C2 will take you to the docks. You can find a boat there.”
“I’m a coward.”
“Protect him,” Tera said to the mekanica.
Cyan-2 responded with a low whistle, placing themself between the fight and Walden. Tera's father clung to the mekanica, though he'd only taken a step before reaching back and pulling on Tera's arm.
"Come with me."
"I can't. Mayer needs my help."
“What can you do? She is an inquisitor. She’ll kill you.”
“I have to try.”
The lines on her father’s face drew together and his lips formed a tight frown, but his eyes remained unchanged. No anger or sadness. No fear, even though he still trembled. Only the same hollow darkness before. He slinked back behind Cyan-2, moving in step with the mekanica as they worked their way to the door.
Mayer continued their relentless assault on Bann. Though the inquisitor’s pace slowed, her strength did not waiver. Each parry nearly knocked Mayer off balance and, though they recovered quickly, left them open to retaliation.Yet Bann never countered their attacks. She studied Mayer. Their fight became a dance, moving to a rhythm, each clash of steel a beat in the song of death, backed by the rain and thunder of the storm.
Bann watched. She waited.
She found her opening.
Bann caught Mayer’s dagger in her mekanica hand. The porcelain shattered and the blade caught on the gears and wires inside. With one hand, Bann drove her sword down into the workshop floor, sinking it deep into the concrete. Mayer pulled on their dagger, but the blade was stuck. Bann curled her fingers around the guard and yanked it from their grasp.
Bann delivered a swift punch to Mayer’s gut, and the witch doubled over, coughing. Before they could recover, Bann wrenched the shattered blade from her mekanica hand, tossing it aside. She wrapped her hand around Mayer’s collar, lifting them from the floor. They beat against her arms and jacket, but the inquisitor’s grip was too strong.
Bann balled her gloved hand into a fist and jabbed Mayer in the face. Pulling back, she struck them again and again and again until Mayer’s face was painted red with blood and their futile retaliation ceased. Mayer sputtered. Blood and drool fell from their mouth in thick strands. They crumpled to the floor as Bann released them. Even as the inquisitor pulled her sword from the concrete, they could only glare at her through blood and bruises.
Tera found her father’s pistol in her hand and rose to her feet before she knew what she was doing. She thumbed the hammer back. She hesitated only for a heartbeat, yet she saw Bann’s eyes before she felt the kick of the gun. She saw the flicker of disappointment before anger set in.
Tera missed.
She felt a chill creep up her spine to her hand. A cold that existed beneath her skin. The gun flew from her hand as Bann flicked her wrist. The cold moved down Tera’s body. She toppled. Sparks flew as the metal of her leg crumpled and tore. Screws and gears and shards of alloy exploded toward Bann's outstretched hand. Sweat glistened off the inquisitor's brow. Tera spared a glance to Mayer, broken and bleeding, and pushed herself to her knee. She grabbed a cluttered table for support and tried to stand, but fell, spilling tools and parts onto the floor.
Bann walked toward Tera. Each step was another entry on Tera's list of crimes.
"I freed you. I took you in when no one else would. I gave your life meaning."
"You can kill me. Just let them go."
"I do not want to, Tera. It is a shake they poisoned your mind. I hoped to save you."
Bann raised her sword. Her hands tightened around the hilt of the blade. She hesitated.
The rain and thunder couldn't block the sound of mechanical footsteps. Bann turned and swung, carving into Cyan-2's frame before catching on the gears of their movement, sending sparks to the floor and leaving gash of jagged steel. Wound enough to kill a man.
Wound enough to kill mekanica.
Cyan-2's exposed arc core pulsed with energy as they wrapped their hands around Bann's sword. Even as their movement slowed, Cyan-2 resisted the inquisitor as she pulled on her sword, matching her strength with steel.
Tera's hand clenched around a wrench, and, pushing off with her good leg, Tera slammed into Bann. The older woman screamed as Tera’s wrench connected with her back. Bann stumbled. Her hands slipped off the hilt of her blade.
Tera fell to the floor.
Gunfire echoed through the room.
For a moment, there was only silence. Even the storm seemed muted as Walden approached. His hands were steady. His eyes were dark. Smoke rose from the pistol. He walked with a confidence that Tera hadn’t seen for a long time.
Rich red blood soaked Bann’s shirt. Arms slack, the inquisitor fell to her knees. Her eyes flicked from Mayer to Walden and finally settled on Tera.
She spat blood onto the floor.
Of all the stories about inquisitors, few went into details on their deaths. Some claimed inquisitors couldn’t die. They lived on forever, the oldest of them far older than lizardfolk, perhaps older than the kingdom itself. Others claimed their deaths turned them into spirits and monsters, creating a need for yet more inquisitors. A few described their deaths as spectacular disasters. Storms that could destroy entire cities. Plagues that killed millions.
Bann’s death was quiet.
Walden wrapped his arms around Tera, taking her weight as she rose to her feet. The pair stood over the inquisitor’s bleeding corpse, watching, waiting for something to happen. But she never rose from the floor. The rain gradually weakened, fewer beats on the roof of the workshop with every minute until there was silence.
“I didn’t run,” Walden whispered.
“You saved me.”
“I killed them.”
“Bann— Inquisitor Jo would have… it doesn’t matter. You saved me.”
“No, not now. Of course not now. I would do anything to save you, Tera.” Her father stumbled, nearly taking them both to the floor. Pausing to catch his breath, he led Tera to Mayer. “She wasn’t the first I killed. I didn’t mean to. You have to believe me, I didn’t mean to.”
“It’s okay.”
“I couldn’t control myself. I tried, but it was inside my head. She tried to stop me. She should have stopped me, but I… I killed her. That is the truth. I turned my fellows against the inquisitor. I killed her apprentice. Then I left them all, sealed them in the temple, and offered them to the monster. A sacrifice so that I could live.”
“I don’t care.”
“I am a murderer and a coward.”
“You are my father.”
“I am still a murderer and a coward. I betrayed the kingdom. I betrayed the inquisition. I am no better than the rebels.”
“That doesn’t matter. Dad, I loved the kingdom. I thought I was doing the right thing. But the kingdom doesn’t care about me. I would have died on the Eon Heart if Mayer hadn’t saved me. I would have died now if you hadn’t. The kingdom has tried to kill me more than the rebels. I am tired of serving a country that wants me dead.”
“Tera…”
“I have seen where blind loyalty leads. I let Gharos die because I believed we did the right thing. Mayer was right, he should have run.”
At their name, the bleeding witch stirred, coughing and sputtering and pushing themself to their knees. “Thank you. I usually am.”
They wiped the blood from their face, wincing as they did, then found their broken blade, hiding it once more beneath their coat. With a grunt, they pushed themself to their feet, though their balance was off. They lurched forward and stumbled into Walden and Tera, catching themselves on the Becs’ shoulders. They stared at the ground. Blood dripped to Tera’s boot.
“I should have left with you when I had the chance,” Tera said.
“You still can. You should.” Mayer met her gaze. “You know you cannot stay right?”
“I know.”
“They will come for you.”
“I know.”
“They won’t stop until you are dead.”
“I know, Mayer, I know!” Tera dug her nails into her father’s shoulder. Her face flushed red. “I did everything right. I served the kingdom without question. They took my leg, took my friends, then cast me aside. It’s not fair. I was happy here, you know? I was happy.”
“I am sorry..”
“We never should have come back,” Walden said.
“No. I am glad you did. I was worried about you, Dad. I wanted nothing more than you to be safe.” Tera looked to Mayer. “I only wish Gharos was here too.”
Mayer nodded.
Tera took a calming breath and dried her cheeks on her sleeve, though neither helped her much. “Help me gather my tools. If you can find what’s left of my leg, I can rebuild it on the ship. If we can get a ship.”
“You’ll come with us then?”
Tera sighed. “I have nowhere else to go. You have saved me more than the kingdom. I owe you. I will make it up to you.”
“You already have. I did nothing Gharos wouldn’t have done for me. Did you know, he told me you saved him on the ship. Before the captain decided his glory was worth more than his life. The first time the engines failed, before you knew what state the Eon Heart was in. I don’t think I ever thanked you for that, Tera. Thank you.”
“I… I wish I could have done more.”
“We should leave,” Walden said. “Someone must have heard the gunfire.”
“It would be bad to be caught with the inquisitor’s corpse,” Mayer agreed.
Walden tightened his grip on Tera, pulling her weight onto him in a sort of half hug. “Are you ready to leave?”
Tera nodded. Leaning on her father for support, she left her workshop. No longer a member of the inquisition. No longer a soldier. No longer an engineer. Nothing more than a traitor to the kingdom.
A title she now wore with pride.
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ciggylungz · 4 years
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Rivals. c2
Rivals: chapter 2
3.2k words
Summary: Y/n and Harry are both CEO’s of their parent’s companies since they inherited the businesses from them, they’ve been rivals since they were kids- now that they’re professional adults how will their rivalry affect them?
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When Friday rolled around Y/n was excited, she’d had a grueling week and been working 18 hours a day for the past 6 days so she was more than thrilled to have a break. Friday’s were usually pretty tame in the office, but just her luck that day a new product design was dumped on her desk and she was tasked with going through the mountains of papers filled with advertisement ideas, promotion pictures and commercial ideas for the new line of clothes and perfumes coming out for the winter season since they were a few weeks away from December. Due to the time crunch she couldn’t really afford to push it off, so she sat at her desk and reviewed everything well past her normal hours.
It was around 7 in the evening when she pulled out the bottle of tequila she kept in her desk for late nights like this, grabbing some ice from the office kitchen and a tonic water from her own mini fridge stashed in the closet in her office. She kept the lighting low, her eyes already feeling the strain of the fluorescent bulbs and fine print papers after hours of reading and she’d like to save the headache for the next morning if possible.
She was a tad bit startled when a knock sounded at her office door, she glanced to the clock seeing it was nearing 10 at night and she knew her assistant left at 8 so she was a surprised by the interruption. Of course, he had to be the one knocking. Even through her mild intoxication she could tell that curly mop of hair as him, his face joining his locks a second later as he waltzes into her office. His lips were tugged in a small smile, hands holding a binder with a plastic bag cradled in his left one.
“Ah! Getting a bit wild in the office tonight? Tequila, you naughty girl!” he gave her a fake disapproving look companied with a stern finger pointing between her and the now half empty bottle. Y/n was always a bit looser after a drink, so she didn’t have her usual bitter comeback loaded she instead felt a strange shot of happiness? Relief? Fondness? She couldn’t put her finger on it. It was too foreign of a feeling to be associated with the man. The woman didn’t understand why she didn’t feel the sense of loathing tugging at her when he spoke, instead she let out a small laugh before flipping him off.
Harry was surprised yet pleased at her reaction. He always loved tipsy y/n, the booze seemed to soften her overly serious nature and make her a bit sweeter. They had some of their best moments together after they had a good buzz going, they’d even had a few instances of cuddling during their alcohol induced haze. He remembers those times fondly; he thinks back on them at times when they’re arguing or in the middle of a grudge holding session. Harry knew she’d never admit it, but deep down behind all her walls she really was a loving, sweet girl. She always had been yet her pride and fear of vulnerability would never let her admit it.
“Hello Harry, any reason you’ve broken into my place of work?” she tipped the glass back to her lips, taking another sip of her cocktail as she waited for his response. She watched him set his things down, shrugging his suit jacket off before rolling his sleeves to his elbows. “Saw you through the window, was workin’ late myself. Thought misery needed a bit of company, and knowing you I knew you’d probably need a designated driver for the night miss tequila.” He lifted his eyebrows in a slight teasing manner, a smile growing on her lips as she giggled quietly, raising her hands in surrender. “bad habits die hard, huh?” she retorted, the smile didn’t drop from her features and Harry loved it. She always had such a beautiful smile. Her plushy lips molded into the shape, her braces did their job giving her a perfect even smile. She had a genuine smile on, he could tell by the way it met her eyes that seemed to brighten when she was in a good mood. She was beautiful. He truly didn’t understand why she had always been so self-conscious. he hated when she’d talk negatively about her looks, weight, body etc. He’d always found her to be a very beautiful woman, and her strong personality amplified that even further.
“That they do miss Y/l/n, they do indeed.” He agreed with a nod, reaching his hand into the previously noted bag pulling out some bread, followed by small slices of cheese and finally a container of grapes. They both shared a love for the particular grouping of food, often having it for snack as kids or packing it when they went on little trips with their friends. It was their thing in a sense. He might amp it up a bit to feel a special bond with her in some way, even if it’s just over a love of the same foods.
“Brought some goodies, might share with you if you’re nice to m’.” Harry made himself comfortable on the couch, toeing off his shoes to leave him in his red dress socks. He liked to have accent colors when he dressed for work, often opting for pocket squares, socks or collar pins to tie together his outfits. He had decided early on just because he was in a work environment didn’t mean he had to dress boring, he worked in fashion for Christ sake so he enjoyed a bit of complimentary accessories. Tastefulness is key though, and he knew how to pick them right.
Y/n polished off her drink, reaching to pour herself another mixing it with a coffee straw she snagged from the kitchen during her original venture out. the woman shrugged slightly, taking a sip with a little smack of her lips at the strongness. She went a bit heavy on the tequila this time around.
“Eh, I’m on a diet anyway.” Her response amused Harry, chuckling lightly before popping a grape into his mouth. He always appreciated someone with a quick wit, and Y/n checked that box for him. He was starting to realize she checked most of his boxes regarding things he found attractive…and he wasn’t sure how to feel about that.
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It was nearing midnight when Y/n started to show signs she was fully drunk. Her head bobbed slightly, body lightly swaying and Harry saw her eyes flutter every so often. He could read her like a book, he knew she was stressed, tired and wasted just from a single glance. The man found it quite cute, she looked so soft and cute when she was in this state. She radiated that type of energy that made you want to hug her; she wasn’t as guarded and flighty. She looked utterly trashed but relaxed and he didn’t mind the drunkenness if it meant she wasn’t as worked up as usual. She worked hard; the woman deserved to let loose once in a while.
“Hey, think it’s time to head out hmm?” Harry slowly sat up as he spoke, stretching with a few quiet pops of his joints. Y/n lifted her head slightly, giving him doe eyes and a pouty lip. “but I have work to do…” a hiccup sounded after she spoke, making her body jolt slightly. “It’ll be there on Monday, it’s late and you’re wasted love. C’mon time to go, hey don’t get all misty eyed on me it’s okay. Swear it’s alright, everything will get done.”
Harry frowned mid-way through his sentence seeing her eyes gloss with tears. She could be quite an emotional drunk, she bottled up her feelings 24/7 so in any sort of weakened state she began to crack. Harry had seen it only twice in the thirteen years of knowing her. The first time they were 15, she’d just broken up with her boyfriend at the time who was a total douche and he’d spent the six months the pair were together practically bullying the girl and mainly spending the time they had together fucking her. she had gotten absurdly drunk and walked to Harry’s home, sobbing and shaking only to spend the rest of the night cuddled into his chest. it was a toxic relationship and Harry always hated that guy; he gave the boy a few swift kicks to the ribs a few days after the incident. The second was during spring break, the pair were freshly 20 and someone had groped her at the club. Y/n had a panic attack on the bathroom floor and Harry sat with her the whole time, even though the filthy floor was sticky with booze and god knows what else he didn’t even think of leaving her behind.
Y/n took in a deep breath nodding her head slightly, letting Harry put the bottle back in it’s hiding spot and organize her papers before getting himself situated and heading to the car. With some episodes of tripping over her own feet and dizziness he’d managed to get her into the passenger seat, buckling her and joining her in the vehicle.
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 “Y/n no, you can’t smash the window! Where are your house keys? Put the rock down”
Bargaining with someone who’s intoxicated was never easy, but he was worried about the woman chucking a random stone through her first-floor window instead of just unlocking the door. Drunk minds aren’t the soundest he supposed seeing as he was prying a rouge rock from y/ns hand.
Eventually the keys were located and used to forge entry into her modest town house. Unlike her parent’s y/n wasn’t into flashy mansions and cars. She didn’t see a purpose for such a large home when she was the only resident, plus it creeped her out knowing there would be more room for potential squatters if she had opted for an 8-bedroom 6-bath mansion like her parents had for the 3 of them. She was never someone who fancied showing off expensive thing, she found it tacky and risky because you’re flashing to people that you have expensive things to steal. So, when she purchased a home, she opted for a modest 2-bedroom town house and she really did love it.
Harry was greeted with a subtle scent of cedar and nutmeg, reminding him y/n always opted for fall themed candles and home fragrances. She felt it made places feel cozier and warmer. contrary to her guarded and sometimes cold personality, she always wanted her home to feel welcoming.
Her décor was nice, a large leather couch with some dark red throw pillows along with a fuzzy blanket folded and draped over the back of the furniture. Some arm chairs also filled the Livingroom, art hung evenly on the wall and a tv mounted right in the center of the adjacent wall. A nice area rug and coffee table really finished off the center room, it was an inviting set up and Harry had to resist the urge to sit on the large couch that seemed to be calling to him as he started walking her up the steps.
The bedframe groaned as she flopped herself down on her mattress, a content sigh leaving her lips as the woman kicked off her shoes. “mmmm love my bed, missed it.” The woman placed an affectionate pet to her pillow, Harry laughing slightly at her antics whilst searching her dresser for clothes to change her into. Pinching a pair of sleep shorts and a tshirt before tossing it on the bed making his way into her bathroom so she could change in private.
Once the girl was situated, he reappeared, picking up her dirty clothes and putting them in her hamper for her. everything was going well, they weren’t fighting and she seemed to really be enjoying his presence but because Harrys an idiot he had to ruin it.
“maybe if you weren’t such a raging bitch, I wouldn’t have to come take you home and you’d have a boyfriend who could huh?”
He intended it to be their playful teasing, how they usually pick on each other and make rude comments but it came across harsher than intended. He sounded utterly mean and spiteful, and after Y/n had spent the evening warming up to him and even enjoying his company that felt like a smack in the face. Just when she thought maybe he’d changed or wasn’t so bad he had to make a comment, picking a topic she was already very sensitive about because all her previous relationships were very abusive and put her in the position she was in now of being so guarded and cold she was left to a life of loneliness.
There was a beat of silence, Harry registering his tone and how he’d just switched the atmosphere entirely. There was no sense of playfulness anymore, just hurt and anger. He regretted ever opening his mouth, seeing the woman look away from him with veins visible on her neck from the restraint she was using to hold back her tears. She cursed herself for drinking, it always made her more sensitive and she felt like a fool for not seeing Harry was just waiting for her to become vulnerable so he could strike back even when truly it wasn’t his intention, his actions left her with only that theory to believe.
Y/n cleared her throat and shot him the best glare she could while her eyes burned with tears begging to escape. “You can see yourself out Harry.” The dismissal was curt and quiet, there was no option for bargaining or pleading because she didn’t want to hear anything else he had to say. Harry knew when to pick his battles with her so he knew it was best he left, sighing slightly before leaving the bedroom making sure he locks her front door for her on his way out. he’s never wanted to beat his own ass so bad in his life.
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 As much as Y/n tried to hide it under her cold, blunt exterior- she was extremely insecure and broken inside. She never learned how to express her emotions or hurt. Y/n never had parents there to guide her nor comfort her in her times of need. She’d never had anyone who cared about her to look out for her besides neglectful nannies who left her to her own devices most of her childhood. She was emotionally stunted, and it had made her vulnerable to shitty people her whole life. It led to her having a 17-year-old boyfriend when she was 13 that pressured her into losing her virginity and emotionally abused her the entirety of their year long illegal relationship. It put her in the position of having a revolving door of toxic abusive relationships with cruel boys who treated her poorly, her father was never around so she never had an example of a good man so she resorted to getting attention and validation in whatever form she could even when it was harmful and a façade to use her body and status. The woman was never taught how to handle her emotions and it led to her clawing for control in any way she could, any sort of distraction and turned her to dark, destructive behaviors in her teen years that still haunt her in the form of physical and mental scars now that she’s in her adult years. She’d practically had to raise herself, and now that she’s grown, she’s running the company that stole her parents from her. she can’t tell who she hates more, her parents or herself.
Harrys word seemed to pop the stitches on an internal wound she thought was close to healing. While he was joking, she couldn’t tell. It was said with such a bitter malice it made her skin crawl. Sure, they’ve been mean to each other for 13 years but in her vulnerable state and the knowledge he had of her past his words seemed deliberate and cruel for the sole purpose of hurting her. not a stupid joke like he’d intended.
She couldn’t get it out of her head, she spent the remainder of the weekend nursing her hangover and a wounded soul. Her mind was screaming self-hating words, cruel statements towards herself and pushing her to look for comfort in another person again even when she knew she was vulnerable to falling back into the arms of yet another man who wasn’t good for her but she couldn’t bring herself to care enough about herself to make the best choices for her. she felt like she had something to prove to Harry, herself and the universe that she wasn’t so horrible that no one could stand to be around her even if the person she chose only stuck around to leech off her. it was a stupid mindset, one that’s left her torn to shreds numerus times since her early teenage years but the spiral Harrys verbal bite sent her into had her internally turning back into 14-year-old y/n who just wanted to feel like she mattered. She was setting herself up for pain again, she knew it. But like she stated before, old habits die hard.
and y/n decided she must be a glutton for punishment when her fingers started typing in the familiar number of her ex.
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Our Nightly Confidant 9
Lightest before Dusk
Her dresses flutter as she strides into her throne room. The hushed whispers die down at her entrance, her courtiers startled and her guards standing at attention.
When they had mentioned a tear in space, Zelda's heartbeat had picked up. There were only so many explanations, and some of her agents had already confirmed that they felt no hostile power in the spell. Was her Hero back? He'd been gone for weeks now. It seemed only right that he returned to her sooner than later.
(She forbid herself the thought that it might have been-)
But on her way, another servant had come to greet them. Link. Link had returned. And so she had entered with her queenly mask in place and her thoughts light.
A few of the heroes still groan as they try to get back their bearings. By the looks of surprise, it might not have been a very graceful landing. Her people shuffle about, nervous by the presence of armed strangers, and those that recognize Link amongst them... stiffen. She makes a mental note of their faces and allegiances, for later review.
The hero with the blue scarf notices her first, and he goes on one knee with a smooth, practiced motion. A knight, that one, she immediately knows.
The rest imitates the motion or pay her respect in whatever custom their era holds. The youngest is amusingly the stiffest, his eyes not on her but the knight. A touching bond, she imagines.
With pose, she greets them all, until Link's nearest companion – scarred, a little younger, naturally sticking close to Link in the middle of a crowd – seems to realize that she is Queen over Link. His expression turns from respectful to impish, mischievous and far too triumphant.
Link cringes as if he realizes exactly what goes through that one's mind.
… And he put that one's neck in a sidehold, trying to stifle the barks of laughter without much success.
“Oh, hey, your majesty, did you know what Twi sa-?”
Link's hand slaps on top of the exuberant one's mouth. A tad desperate for his silence, and though she knows no words her Hero had spoken would be truly damaging, she cannot resist the urge to tease him. With her best, coldest mask, she arches a single eyebrow. Link's face takes on a cherry red color, one she had yet to see from him.
Muffled and swallowed snickers abound from the group of heroes. Poor Link shushes them, and it is when the knightly one reminds them of her presence that they settle, somewhat. Link looks grateful, and a little torn. What relationship does he share with this hero? One of surface level friction, she muses, that cannot reach the core of their trust in one another.
Link schools his expression into a solemn look.
“My Queen,” he says, a hand over his chest and his head bowed.
“My Hero,” she replies, so perfectly even. “Have you travelled well?”
He has a dark glare for the scarred hero.
“It's been... an adventure.”
Yes, she pictures it nicely now. And part of her warms to the image of her Hero so well looked after.
“Is there need of my assistance for any of your companions, My Hero?”
Link pauses, then quickly glances back. “Right this second? No, we could use a moment to rest,” he says, and rolls his shoulder for show.
She allows herself a small smile.
“I bid you all welcome into the kingdom of Hyrule, brave heroes of time past and to come. Accommodations will be arranged for all of you tonight. Refreshments and food will be brought to you. You need only ask. The Royal Family does not forget the debt owed to its saviors.”
“We would be thankful for such generosity, My Queen,” he says, and the relief in the others is badly hidden.
She gestures for her guards to show them to chambers being prepared by some poor, rushing maids. Circumstances oblige. They'd be compensated in some way later. As the heroes move to obey, however, she raises her voice once more.
“My Hero, I would have you share some tea with me. We have much to discuss.”
A few of them misstep, and shoot Link curious glances.
The one-eyed soldier lifts an eyebrow.
But Link shakes his head at his commander. He lands a strong clap on the man's back and juts his chin at the exit. Silent words are exchanged without even a twitch, and, on cue, eight heroes leave the throne room through the front doors, led by an honor escort. Link, however, breaks the distance between them and offers a second bow.
“I am at your service.”
That you are, she thinks to herself. Her courtiers do not notice. Not the irony of her thoughts, nor the displeasure she must hide from them every other week.
They disappear together through the passage only the royal family may take, and together they climb the staircase to the highest point of the castle. Few members of her forces patrol the area, all of which pay her their respect, and try to hide some contempt for Link. It cements her plan in her mind.
She waits two heartbeats after the doors to her chambers close, then rushes into his arms.
“Zelda,” he whispers, at first, his arms strong around her, “it's not proper.”
She knows. Of course she knows. Many like to remind her. But queen she might be, she is also Hylian, and she missed him. Him and his lack of decorum, care for propriety. She never asked it of him. Not as themselves.
“Farore has blessed many of my court,” she replies, pulling away from him.
Tea and biscuits have been laid out at her orders, and she invites him to sit.
“To think they would still suggest you to be too lowly for any association with me.”
Link hums in his teacup. “They do say Farore loves her fools.”
Zelda shoots him a sharp look. “Do not insult yourself so.”
For all of a second, her knight looks sheepish. Then: “But...?” he asked, his fangs shining in the corner of his mouth.
She lets out a sigh. “But those people specifically are, indeed, fools.”
His chest rumbles with an unspoken hum, a melody from home. Ordon. Zelda has rarely visited, and not once in recent memory. For all Hyrule rules over Ordon, that province is marginal at best. Out of sight and out of mind to most her subjects, she knows. How ironic that the Golden Three would pick their Hero out of this forgotten corner of Hyrule. A reminder, it would seem, that none of her subjects deserve to be neglected. She took it seriously; she wonders more often than not if her nobles have.
Link does not speak right away. He samples the biscuits, always a little wary of food he cannot identify at a glance. A remnant of the life of the traveler, she had long guessed. But after the first bite, he nearly swallows the next two whole. They must have gone without rest for some time before the portal brought them to her. She is glad the kitchen had been forewarned to cater to their whims.
Her first sip of tea coats a floral flavor on her tongue. It is one of Link's favorites, and she can appreciate its subtle qualities beneath the light, almost perfume-like fragrances. She had not cared for it before, but now she is away from public eyes, she is quite famished herself.
Link looks at her like he knows, and it prompts her to, in more delicate words, play with him.
“The scarred, insolent one,” she starts, her tone neutral to hide her teasing, “he is the one the goddesses sent you to help, isn't he?”
Link pales a bit. “My Queen, he meant no-”
“Peace,” she says with a smile. “I care not, My Hero, for protocol beyond its use in social gatherings. Least of all for one I see dear to your heart.”
Reassured, Link relaxes, settling back into his seat with an equally tender smile. His eyes flit to her window, to the rolling clouds and the splatters of rain on the glass. So many tears from the heavens.
(They do not shatter two hearts.)
She banishes the thought. Her Hero is here, and followed by eight others across time and space. The very idea fascinates her. Makes her wish for time to speak with them and show them what records the kingdom has kept. The Chosen Hero, the Hero of Light, the Hero of Time. Hyrule only remembers so few, and there is temptation all on its own, to know that some may come from times yet to come.
But her desires do not weigh enough for the indulgence. Other matters are of greater import.
“Those heroes of legend. You trust them, then?”
“With my life.”
No pause. No consideration. Yes, she had thought as much. If no one else, Heroes of Courage could only be trustworthy. The Goddesses would never tolerate otherwise.
But in truth, that judgment, she had already decided upon witnessing the easy manners Link displayed around them. Link suffers no false-faced turncloaks. There had been nothing begrudging in their interactions. Rather, the brotherly banters they had shushed upon her arrival had amused her as much as it had enlightened her.
“Can you tell me about them?” she asks, gently. Not an order, but a request from a curious mind.
He lights up, and his earnest joy shines above the drab atmosphere of the late afternoon. He speaks exuberantly, familiarly, as if they are old friends. He even manages to snatch a laugh out of her, something she is well aware her court desperately tries ever still. Ice queen, they murmur out of her sight. A few hinges their courtship on their charm, and for the life of her, Zelda knows they cannot equal this simple man speaking of the love he has for these newfound brothers-in-arms.
He speaks of them like Ordon, like home, and perhaps it is what emboldens her to ask, after a delicate bite of her biscuit: “Do they... like their Zelda?”
He raises an eyebrow, his smile smaller and somehow more mysterious. Puzzling. It is not a mannerism he used to have. She wonders which heroes he picked it up from. Perhaps the scarred, one-eyed hero. Link had stood by him with a deference he is loath to show any he doesn't believe deserve it. And that man had been the stoic sort, at least on a surface level. If her suspicions about their respective identities proved correct...
Well. It matters not, she supposes.
Link takes the time to swallow another swing of his tea, the impudent farmboy that he is, and looks at her knowingly.
“The Chosen's smitten.” Link wipes some breadcrumbs from his mouth, which then turns upward into a smirk. “You should hear him when he tries to write her songs. It's adorable.”
“Yes, adorable,” she repeats to herself, willing her cheeks not to burn.
Quick as it came, the amusement drains out of him, and he sounds more apologetic next. “The truth is, I don't know, my Queen. Some of them are fond, some are a bit like strangers, and some are like us.” He points at her and himself a few times. “In-between. What do you think of that?”
“In some ways... reassuring, I would say. Part of me worries that I have not done enough for my kingdom in its time of need.”
He opens his mouth, indignation naked on his face, and she preempts him with a raised hand. He silences his reply, and she does not back down from his glare.
“She was always more important to your quest than I.”
With a grimace, he sits back down.
“True.”
He does not lie to her. She appreciates that, on the heels of a meeting with courtiers who are never honest with her. When they had barged in this very room, during the Twilight Invasion, one cursed, one mortally wounded, she had known that it would be her choice. Her choice, and her chance to save her kingdom. When Link speaks of her, he softens at this part, at the sanded out edge of her wits and quips.
There's a faint hurt in Zelda's chest. A longing, phantom, mere daydreams that do not belong to her. To give part of one's soul is to accept part of someone else's in return. In that way, it is quite like love. She had known it would hurt, and had done it anyway, for her hero needed another princess. But Nayru, at the very least, blessed her too much to let those visions of a brave wolf and braver man cloud her reason. No union could be successful from a pair of fools chasing shadows.
“You were important though, My Queen. Don't underestimate yourself.” He holds out her gaze with the strength that let him challenge the King of Evil. “You were our goal, our salvation – more than once, the last one to give me strength against Ganondorf. You brought the Light Spirits' blessing to that battle, and the Three know I wouldn't have managed without it.”
She finishes her cup. “One's advices are so much more convincing when equally applied to oneself.”
“Fair. We were meant to do it together, My Queen. Believe me, it's like history told me eight times over.”
Her lips curl up faintly. “Only eight times? And to think you could be told a hundred times without moving before. Nayru has finally seen you fit to receive some of her blessing,”
His indignation flashes in his eyes, and settles in his innocent, wolf-like grin. “Aww, shucks. Your Majesty, don't you be using big words to insult lil' ol' me.”
“It was no insult. Your determination often forces admiration, My Hero.”
He chuckles under his breath. He says something that might be 'wolf boy'.
This is what they are to each other: a way to remember one they do not wish to forget and whose hearts long to, so they may at last heal. They are. Healing. She knows this. Just as she knows the process is slow and grueling, but every meeting they hold in her chambers, every teacup shared by the window, their gaze overlooking Castle Town... she feels closer to it.
And by the gentleness in Link's eyes, she thinks he feels the same way. That even away from her, gallivanting through time and space, he has progressed as well.
Naturally, with none of the terrible awkwardness that plagued their early conversations, their words drift away to more casual topics, the health of the servants, the network of the resistance, the state of the kingdom. Easy words for her to speak. They drift from anecdotes about the castle's kitchen to the latest nobility gathering to her bemoaning of the state's newest budget.
At his request, she produces the copy for him to skim, which he does with a ferocity that is rather inappropriate for questions of maintaining bridges and holding the annual solstice celebrations. And therein lies the problem. He begins his commentary.
Link, it must be said, is also a miser of the worst sort. He would never let her exceed budget and does indeed question anything but the strictest necessity. It is as useful an attribute in an advisor as it is prodigiously irritating.
“My Hero, whilst the people can survive perfectly well on a tight purse, they do not want to. I must consider... certain sensibilities.”
“Why?” he finally asks, standing and disturbing his cup on the desk. “Why must you when it seems none of them ever do? How can they bow to you and then demand? You're their queen! Everything you've done has been to help Hyrule recover and thrive. Why can't they put their darned wants aside for one season?!”
If only her nobles could be half as loyal, she might actually enjoy the administration of her council. “It is my queenly duty, Link.”
His stubborn, darkened look recedes. “Aye, aye, I know. Big part of why I believe in you, Zelda, but...”
Her hand catches his, and through her glove and his gauntlet, warmth reaches from and to the divine mark they share.
“You wish it was not so. That others might be willing to sacrifice for the good of their brethrens.”
His ears droop.
To be a hero is to walk a lonely road. To have the world at your feet and its weight on your shoulders. And Link is strong, so strong to have done it.
In her hearth, the fire crackles and spits out dying ember. The dregs of tea in her cup have gone cold. They have been at this long, long enough for the gossip to come back to life, and momentarily, she dares imagine the ribbing Link will be subjected to when he meets back with his companion.
But, Zelda regrets, that would come to a quick stop, once they notice.
She has delayed as much as she could. But, again, duty demands it of her, of him.
“Forgive me, my Hero, for what I must ask of you.”
She sees it in his gaze. The surety, the sturdiness that is a man of the land. Stubborn and decisive. Less delusions than most. He knows, then, that she means it. That it is no idle speculation, and that he will suffer in the course of his duty.
Yet he nods, once, a short thing. “You already are.”
There is no doubt in him.
Not yet.
She names the place she must send him to, and so rises the shadows of his regrets in his sky blue eyes.
He does not hear much of her explanation. She proceeds as if he does, as gentle an offering of time for him to gather his Courage she can afford to give.
“My Hero,” she whispers to him at last, her touch light on his chin, “Link, return to me whole.”
It's as much an order as she dares give, and the ghost of his smile lets her know he understands her feelings.
“As long as you need me, My Queen.”
Need me forever, don't let me go, not you too, is the prayer he will never voice. Nayru help us both.
***
Flecks of sand grates against his skin as harsh winds pick up. He wants to say he doesn't notice, but it would be a lie. He'd rather focus on the irritating grit, on the whistle of scorching dry air. On the glare of the sun even as the shadows of pillars inch closer to them.
Yet, he can't quite manage.
He stares ahead at the place he most hates in his Hyrule.
He loves his country. Loves the beauty he found in every corner, in the smile of strangers and the purr of beasts. From start to finish, Twilight had simply loved the world he was born in. But this place, he can't bring himself to feel anything for it.
(he would be swallowed)
(torn from the inside, darkness spreading, a mask with tendrils forced on his face like those poor people he couldn't save)
“Sky... You probably don't want to get inside that place,” he hears himself say.
The patient wait twists into a knot of tension. The ring of silent question bears on his back, and he turns, comes face to face with a Sky that is stone-faced, all but daring to be left behind. His eyes are more steel than the sword in Twilight's hand.
A nod.
It was a futile hope. Sky was the first to incarnate the Hero's Spirit. He never lacked in Courage. But this will hurt. Hurt so bad to show Sky a glimpse of the darkness that the dream shared with his love will unleash.
(it's not on him, never was on Sky, their sweet knight from above, but Twilight knows too much about heroes not to predict what one feels about responsibilities)
Time stalks forward, diffusion some of the tension.
“Is this one of your world's temples, Pup?”
A temple? He wants to scoff. This place is no temple. Nothing sacred, not anymore. It's a place of misery and pain and grudges never allowed to rest. It's a testament of sin and it's the place he wakes up to in his nightmares, one prisoner amongst many, chained with a spiked collar, Hylian or wolf.
The others wait after his words, and he hates the honest curiosity he sees in their gazes.
He should find a gentler way to say it.
But simply standing in the shadow of this place drains him of his energy. He already feels the weight of memories pulling at his limbs. It takes a mild effort to look back to the old man.
“... No, but I believe it is where one used to be. This is the prison they built when they exterminated the Gerudo.”
Blood rushes out of Time's face. He looks pale, horrified. There's no real need to elaborate, is there? The Hero of Time knows why and how Hyrule and its Gerudo neighbors would go to war.
Something like guilt and disgust twist inside Twilight's stomach. Why did he say that?
“Twi!” Wild shouts, his objection all too obvious.
“Those that stayed died. The warriors. The zealots. Those that didn't believe the kokiri seer had been truthful about Ganondorf's reign of terror.”
Time looks on the verge of being sick. “They weren't meant... ” he trails off, his one good eye staring at the torture complex.
Twilight puts a hand on his shoulder. “I don't know the details. You'd have to ask my Queen for the records of the kingdom's history.” – He sighs, squeezes gently. – “But peace didn't last, and that's why this place was built out of the ruins of a sacred place. A desecration of the worst kind. To let the torments of the regretful last.”
He wants to ease the pain on Time's face so bad, but... he can't. Whatever else happened, Time had been a child at the time. He'd saved the kingdom. The cost...
Twilight fumbles with a match to light his lantern. He can't think of costs right now. It's not the place. The flame from his lantern illuminates the first few steps into the broken doors of the prison complex.
“Be careful inside. This place is haunted by more than just the horrors of Hyrule's dark past. Lost souls and living corpses are trapped inside.”
“Gloom and doom, much?” Legend snarks.
It takes effort not to snarl.
“Just don't get paralyzed by a scream when you're standing on quicksand, Bunnyboy.”
The others straighten at his uncharacteristical snap. That, or the image he suddenly conjured of them, slowly engulfed by torrents of sand, unable to move but all too aware of what was happening. Back then, if it hadn't been for...
Not the time to be losing himself in old memories.
His chest pangs with guilt. The way the others look at him. The surprise. The shock for his poor manners. He mumbles an apology. Turns away quickly to face the dried out shadows of the unlit tunnel.
Farore, he hates how the Arbiter's Grounds empties him from the inside out.
***
There were, to Twilight's knowledge, two likely locations for what his queen asked him to investigate. He had been silently praying when he'd opened the gates to the inner sanctum. Had come close to begging as Hyrule and Legend examined the dusty remains of the paper talismans, and though repulsed confirmed their power long lost, alongside what they had been made to restrain. The Lense of Truth hadn't revealed anything else, and
– he couldn't turn into a wolf, not here, not where she –
it had been a waste of time. Unsurprising.
“Why go for the least likely first then?” Warriors had demanded, his stance a bit more defensive.
Because the Death Sword had been sealed in the middle of the prison complex, and if he was wrong, then Twilight would rather avoid having to backtrack through this accursed place. Upon that reasoning, the rest conceded that he had a point, even if they had some complaints.
“If the source of that dark magic flare wasn't in that creepy cell, why are there some many monsters here?” Hyrule asks, off-hands, as he locks swords with a stall captain.
There's no reason to worry, not quite.
“This place is never empty of monsters!” he shouts over his shoulder, crushing some of the smaller skeletons under a broad swing of his sword. “It's been soaked in blood and torment. No one rests in the Arbiter's Grounds.”
Legend, balancing on a near sunken platform above sinking send, kicks away a moldorm with trained ease. He seems pleased for all of a few seconds, before Wind points behind him at a shambling shadow emerging from an alcove in the walls.
Legend's sword seizes midswing, a piercing shriek tearing through the air with the force of a waking nightmare. The scream bounces in their heads, bites into bones and wraps around flesh. It strikes and tempers, and leaves all nine of them fighting their own bodies for the right to move as it inches ever closer to its target. He hears strangled grunts from his left, clatters of metal on the ground from his right. Struggles to break free.
And all Twilight knows is he'll be damned if this place steals another loved one from him.
He stumbles forward, amongst the first to do so. He doesn't waste precious time thinking, assessing. The shadows swallow him, and he dashes on four legs.
Paws stomp over sand, bugs and spikes as he bounds and leaps.
His fangs tear through the rotten flesh with ease. The revolting taste used to make him retch. The decay, the dry leather, the sandpaper texture of bandages. He's not sure if he's imagining it right now, so numb his whole body feels.
He gnarls on the monster's throat till he hits bone, then leaps off. The thing can't scream anymore. It's barely a threat without that power. It's slow, cumbersome. It drags its claymore through sands, but it doesn't get a chance to swing. He steps out of shadows with his sword in hand.
The mummified head rolls on the quicksand, soon sunken and no more than a troubling memory. The rest collapses, and they can breath again.
He's not sure what his are called. They have elements of both Gibdos and Redeads. The massive sword is only in his Hyrule though. Lucky him.
He spits to the side, the glob black and green, and the taste, worse. “Vet, you good?”
Legend's pale, his fingers twitching, and his feet pull him back closer to the center of the platform. Startled is the word that comes to mind. It comes, and goes. Legend's too – wearied – seasoned to let a mere close call shake him.
“Yeah. Thanks, wolfboy. That beast's out of the bag now,” he says, leaning toward the rest.
Despite the spill of sand, the room feels oppressively silent. Tension knots into his back. He's had nightmares of this exact moment, he suddenly realizes. The moment when the secret is out and it is time to face their judgment, be it words, disgust or drawn swords. But the silence doesn't press onto him, doesn't stifle. Warriors gauges the others, Sky looks about ready to speak up, the same way Wild does. Time looks the most wary, and Four sighs with something like relief. An incredulous chuckle building in the back of his throat, it occurs to Twilight that he never told anyone which of them knew his secrets. He's never been one to parse them out, after all. And now...  
Now, Wind's shock simmers into something else as he looks to the other Links and sees little surprise or even wonder.
“Oh,” Hyrule says, the only one dazed, “I had a feeling.”
It's too muted a reaction. It sparks the flurry of feeling boiling just under Wind's skin. “Really?! We're the last two to learn?”
The way he glares at him, at the others. The accusation is clear. He thinks they don't trust him. That Twilight doesn't trust him. That... that he tricked him. Got the feelings out of him, then mocked him behind his back.
Twilight quiets the 'beast!' his mind screams. “It's not like that, Sailor. I never sought to reveal it to anyone. I” – fear – “dislike talking about it. It just happened.”
“Oh, fuck off,” Wind bites out.
“I mean it, Sailor,” he tells the kid, hoarse. “I'm sorry.”
His tone gives Wind pause. The teen frowns, looks up at him with suspicion. “This isn't over. I'm gonna ask for more later.”
“Of course.”
“Twi,” Wild suddenly calls, his eyes flashing with worry, “are you okay?”
They can't do this inside the Arbiter's Grounds. The traps alone would be too much of a risk.
He shakes his head, then wipes the congealed blood off his blade. “I'm fine. I just hate this place.”
Warriors, with deliberate timing, clasps his hands. “Great. Finally a point in common between the two of us, Rancher. How about you lead us out of here?”
“I'd be more at ease somewhere with less chances of an ambush,” Time adds, still scanning their surroundings.
He nods. Wrestles with himself. They need him. Him, he can't fail now.
“It shouldn't be too far. Let's go.”
Sky's face twists, something like guilt, something like determination. Twilight doesn't regret following his queen's order, but he does bury the sorrow he feels at seeing his brother's dreams further crushed. Hyrule was... is... a country with a long history, and some of it unworthy of the glory it received.
There's frankly nothing Sky can do to prevent this outcome.
The thought flares with guilt. Look at him, giving lessons about making peace with the inevitable.
He ducks his head and turns back to the traps they will need to navigate.
“We'll need some creative solutions, heroes. This place is best travelled with a very specific item, and I only have the one...”
But though Warriors is the only one to share the spinner item with him, the others all have access to impressive resources to play around the traps that litter the Arbiter's Grounds. And even for the few that look perplexed, Sky's whip, Wind's hookropes or their hookshots allow them to swing back and forth over dangerous obstacles to link the groups together.
All that being said, he will keep a closer eye on his spinner for the next couple of days, because Wild's starry eyes at the sight of Twilight bouncing around on complex rails had left him chuckling for the first time today. And he wasn't blind to the intrigued glances Legend and Four had had for the item either.
Were he in a generous mood, Twilight would advise Warriors to keep a close eye on his stuff too. Kleptomania was apparently a shared trait of the Hero's Spirit.
The skull's fragments are unmoved, and their path takes them past even the boss chamber.
Light washes over them, wonderful thing that chases half the ghosts that linger in his mind after a trek through the cursed prison. Cooling winds makes him want to shout after the dusty, heavy air that mummifies every corpse down there. He wants to celebrate with the others, but in the corner of his eyes, he sees the monolith.
Tears spring to his eyes unbidden. Why? Why is he like this? He tried so hard to heal, to get over it! He's an adult, not a lovesick teenager. He's done his best to deal with the pain. So why is it that he can go months right as rain and then, one day, he just hears the wrong thing, sees the wrong shades, and his whole chest crumbles on him?  
On a shaky breath, he attempts to steel himself, to dry the tears. In vain.
He is, Twilight decides there and then, pathetic.
***
How long does he sit in front of the black stone?
The sun started to set whilst he was here. Red light over sand cast lengthening shadows, and it's too easy for him to get lost in his scrutiny of them. None ever came to life. But he still looked, wondered, ached.
With no real hint to direct their searches, the group had commonly decided that they ought to rest for now, with double watch tonight to make sure they weren't taken by surprise in an ambush. Twilight had agreed, and pretended not to feel Time's insistent stare when he slipped away to...
To do what, exactly?
He's not even sure. He's been sitting there, legs hanging by the edge, scrutinizing the stone as if it would come to life.
Eh. A callback to a bitter period of his life. Damn it! He's over this. He is!
So why aren't you facing the others? Didn't you tell Wind you'd explain everything?
He knows his conscience is right. He still doesn't stand. It seems, on top of everything else, Twilight might also be a hypocrite. Goddesses, why did Farore ever look his way?
They're eating, he tells himself. He can smell the hints of Wild's spice mixes from here. Can hear, vaguely, the conversations, and could even guess the contents if he strained to catch the words. He'll have to apologize. To come clean. And that's enough to root him in place. Just a few hours longer, before they can no longer bear his presence.
The idea sends pricks of ice under his skin. Any of them would be a stab wound, but it's when his mind lingers on Wild, that silly brother of his, that the rage hits.
He doesn't know many tricks, not yet. He's still learning, but on anger alone, he feels as if he could suddenly disintegrate the black stone from his glare alone. He wants it gone. He wants to be freed of it, and it's that thought that flashes last when on the canvas of ink flashes shifting oranges and yellow.
Twilight's already upright. That glimpse of fire... It hadn't been the setting sun!
He wishes he could have said he moved with purpose, his mission still in mind, not a short walk that had his heart beating out of his chest. The closer he gets, the easier it becomes to define the impression. There is someone looking back at him from beyond the stone's reflective surface.
His stomach drops when he reaches the steps.
Only himself.
He knows his queen would have something to say if she knew he felt disappointment at his own reflection. With a surly, self-deprecating smirk, he lets his fingers run over the sharded texture. Presses his palm against the ice cold material.
Imagines that the skin is a paler, greyish shade, splattered black instead of his tanned pink. The fingers would curl into his, intermingles. He holds onto the feeling.
Then yanks.
A hand cut from starless night emerges from the stone, and Twilight throws down a dark copy of himself onto the ground. The doppelganger blinks in shock, momentarily dazed.
The expression hardly improves when the Ordon Sword skewers it to the ground.
“The Prison Gate?” he drawls. “Did you think I wouldn't see a temptation coming?”
That you'd be the first one I faced here? he doesn't say. Twilight has always been good at connecting with accursed things. With forbidden practices and tricks played out in the dark. Even before his quest, before all the things that turned him from goatherd to hero, there had been the book he'd taken a fancy to. The mirror in his basement. Old dreams of a dead wolf and a dead hero.
There's a lot Twilight doesn't say, not in front of some dark apparition.
“Queen's dog,” it spits, ink blood sprayed from the corner of its mouth.
Twilight watches, unmoved, as the shadowed being melts back into the sand by the black stone.
They both know which queen it referred to. Twilight, with a faint smirk, shakes his head. Despite his heart's desires, despite the pangs of the chains in his chest, he is the hero of the Light Realm. And his queen will be pleased to know that her Wolf took care of the problem with the Arbiter's Ground.
He casts his gaze over the desert, the setting sun. It's a shame then, that they will have to spend the night anyway.
***
Time gives up pretense. He has polished his biggoron sword and unclasped some layers of armor and fiddled with his ocarina, and none of this let him clear his mind enough to pretend he wasn't worried out of his skin.
Their evening routine is off. Even in dangerous circumstances, they had always managed to build an atmosphere of safety, of care. The ideal that none of them were at risk so long as they looked after one another.  
Tonight's akin to the long nights he spent with Hyrule watching over wounds and illnesses that he knows he could have prevented somehow. Everyone is of a second mind, and it boils over right after Wild finishes scrubbing his pots.
There's one bowl still full, untouched, a little to the side of their campfire.
The last of the pots vanish in a flash of blue lights. Wild knocks over his bedroll standing. “Okay, I'm done. I'm going to check up on him.”
“I'm coming too,” Four jumps to his feet, a split second faster than Sky, Warriors and Hyrule.
“Like hell I'm getting left out again,” Wind says fiercely.
Time wants to sigh and smirks. Goddesses, he never signed up to feel so much pride for these insane boys of his. Even if one of them takes the route of the electrified chu-chu instead, whom Time has to nudge with the tip of his boot.
“Probably doesn't want to see anyone,” Legend explains, arms stubbornly crossed over his chest, but he ends up on his feet too.
“We'll tell him you were worried too, don't worry,” Warriors drawls, and gets flipped off for good measure.
They find Twilight almost immediately. By common consensus, they'd agreed to begin their search with the chained black stone. Twilight had gazed upon it with the melancholy of an old man reminiscing about his lost wife and children. It had to be a direction, if nothing else, they reasoned. More so from the dark vibes Hyrule picked up from the strange object.
But for all their speculations, they find Twilight as soon as they set out to do so, sitting on some small steps in front of the monolith, facing away from them.
“You don't need to be here,” he says, not looking back.
“I think we do,” Wild snipes back, his stubborn expression eerily familiar. (Twilight's.)
“Thank you, but I'm fine.”
“You sure seem fine to us,” Legend can't help snark.
“I. Am. Fine.”
Clipped words against the bars of a cage.
“Don't bullshit us, Rancher.” Warriors calls out, worry too sharp for calm.
The sand near the pedestal swirls against the wind, then dies down.
Behind Time, Hyrule's breath hitches up. Time understands. He knows enough magic to recognize it and its flares when emotions run high.
“Enough. All of you. We're not here to corner him. Pup, we just want to talk with you. You haven't been yourself since we arrived here and we want to know how we can help you.”
Twilight whirls around with a feral snarl. “I SAID I'M FINE!”  
For the first time since meeting Twilight, Time feels the urge to take a step back. He doesn't give in, never has, but part of him is shocked that a hero gave him the feeling.
It's wrong. So very wrong, to see softness sanded away by pain. The glare sent back is raw, unfiltered, untempered. A sliver of flame through a cover of shades.
And... quick as it flashed, the fury drains out of him, the edges gone and the scowl lifted into a guilty grimace. Shades cup around the flames like hands on candlelight, to protect others from its rays. Twilight's ears droop slightly. The look alone is an apology, and it's so obviously the word on his tongue.
But Twilight says nothing, huffs a little breaths and turns away from them.
It can't be a coincidence that he dangles his cursed amulet just far enough from himself that they get a glimpse of it. He's still not looking back.
“It's dark magic, Wind. I take the form of a wolf by using dark magic. And that stone...” They can see his fists clench. “That stone was the pathway to their world. Not the gate, not the key, just... the path.”
Time wants to urge Wind to err on the side of caution, but he can't without tipping off Twilight, and even the casual confession seem too important to mess up.
Wind only looks thoughtful for a split second. “So where's the key?”
“It's gone now. Goddesses know I've looked.” The admittance sounds like old shame. “But the sages of old used it often enough that the mirror left its mark on it.”
“You're...” Hyrule starts, getting looks from the rest. “You're connected to it.”
Twilight hunches, just enough that it's visible. “Yeah. Collected the shards in the sand, bled on the stone, prayed to the Goddesses. Anything that wouldn't hurt someone else, I guess.”
The glaring omission in that statement makes Time's heartbeat accelerate. What did his pup do?
“Anyway, it was foolish. The path can only open for the true ruler of the Twilight Realm, and boy, is it not me. But the experiments did have a few side-effects.” – a hand gestures vaguely to his forehead – “Uli did say the tattoo fit, in a rugged, strong man kind of way.”
That forced cheer gets a cringe out of Four. Time has to file the observation for later. He cannot turn his focus away from the pup now. Not when he's bleeding pain right in front of him.
“A mother's love is blind,” Wild croons.
“Brat. She'd love you all.” They can hear the grin on his voice. “Not that she wouldn't pull your ear to teach you good manners, but she would love you anyway. Her, Rusl, Colin, even little Lumi, they'd love you guys. I'm so lucky...”
His sigh floats away, forlorn, like a love letter on desert winds. Time instantly thinks of the ranch, of the horses and the singing they all clammer to. It makes him remember the sunlit smile Sky had worn when they found themselves surrounded by clouds and enormous birds, the whooping cry Wind let out when he recognized black sails on the horizon, the relief Legend had hidden at the sight of his rabbit-hooded friend.
Time wants to meet Twilight's family. Wants to know those people that raised this remarkable young man. Wants to help them make him understand he is cherished back.
Because he sees the slight shaking that wavered wolf fur on his shoulders. Almost misses the sob. The admiration, the awed tenderness had grown twisted, uneven from a darkened fondation. It builds in Twilight's frame, builds in the thicker shadows on him and the shifting sands at their feet.
And Twilight's fist strikes the pedestal beside him, and something Time cannot see passes into the sand by the pedestal. Hackles raised, Four's skin is paler. He is staring so intently, his eyes almost a different color entirely in the dusk. More worryingly, Time notes with a grimace, is the faint chime he thinks he hears rising from the Master Sword.
“Pup, just tell us.”
And Twilight does.
He looks them in the eyes, a scowl on his face. “Why am I so selfish?” he rasps in disgust. “Why am I so fucking greedy? Why do I demand more than what I've been fucking blessed with?!”
Aren't they allowed a little selfishness? Time bites back. The goddesses gave them each a war. Why was it so wrong to want their peace once they'd won?
“I was lucky. Incredibly lucky. I found the children of my village, not one hair on their heads harmed. I rescued my childhood friend and restored her memories. I proved myself worthy of my teacher and let him rest. I... I saved Hyrule, Queen Zelda, the Twilight Realm. I didn't lose anything.”
It's like being stripped off a mask he had forgotten he was wearing. Twilight's cry reaches deep, and it's too easy to see why it's spoken like it was a flaw rather than a magnificent triumph. How can he make his boy understand?
Wild shakes his head. “You lost things too.”
“Nothing that mattered,” Twilight adds, under his breath, a cruel bite at the truth. “Most of a village gone, half the army dead, Zora's succession in shambles. All before the Light Spirits told me my destiny. But I'm fine. I'm great.”
“I can say with complete sincerity, Farmhand, that it doesn't help.” Legend juts his chin, then shrinks back, somber and restrained. “What you're doing. Don't salt your own wound. It mattered to you. It was real enough.”
Something about that strikes Twilight silent.
“She's not dead, Vet. She's not even hurt. She just had to leave to fulfill her duties as her people's rightful ruler. I knew that. I always knew that.”
And, strangely enough, Warriors speaks up, his voice soft. “Midna misses you, Rancher. She...” An hesitation. A chuckle. “Let's say she didn't say so in as many words, but sometimes, she'd get this look, as dusk falls.”
Wind's head snapped up at him. “Aw hell... you mean...”
“You weren't kidding,” Four muses, looking a bit embarrassed by the late realization.
And Wild hovers, looking so ready to rush forward toward his mentor. “Your scars are worse than mine.”
“There it is...” Twilight scoffs, or maybe sniffs. He's not looking at them, he seems determined to avoid all their eyes. He's staring right ahead, at the black stone that seems to weep in the settling cold of night. “There, there's my tragedy. A fucking broken heart. One... one person I wasn't allowed to keep.”
Time's heart ache. One person. So little, most would say, but his pup makes his sound like he had indeed lost his world.
“It's NOTHING compared to you all!”
The shout echoes over the winds of the desert. They don't say anything.
They can't say anything. Not when the core of Twilight's pain bristles at hints of their sympathy. Shame convinced him he isn't allowed to receive it. A witness to their woes no longer feeling adequate by his good fortune. It's all Time wanted for his successors.
Nayru, forgive me for my lack of perspective.
“Why are you all here?” Twilight hisses, rubbing at his eyes. “You don't need to hear my whining. Goddesses, I hate feeling like this. I'm fine.”
Fine, is what he repeats. It's enough to make someone hate the word.
“You're not fine,” Wild says, firm.
The answering chuckle bites. “I should be.”
And Time suddenly loses all his words, because his heart just skipped a beat. Farore be good, of all things to bequeath his eldest, it had to be this reluctance. Malon would have a field day with him.
“No one asks that you be invincible,” she speaks through him.
Twilight gives a full body flinch. Finally, he stands, stumbles as if drunk – on anger, on sadness, on self-pity – and he faces them all, red-rimmed eyes and a smile that makes them wince.
“I'm the furthest thing from that. Her last words to me were 'See you later'. See you later, as she destroyed the only way to connect our worlds together! Wolf boy, dog boy,” – they pretend not to see Legend wince – “she used to call me that, patting my head or my back. Good boy. Wolf boy.” Twilight's scoff is brittle, shattered glass. “That's what I am. That stupid dog tied to a tree that waits with a big grin for a master that's never coming back.”
His head jerks to the side with a clap.
Legend pulls back his hand, stern despite the worry. “Don't insult yourself like that, Twilight. You're a Hero, a real one, you hear me?”
The pendant around Twilight's neck suddenly pulses with pitch black light. The markings on his face darken. He straightens with some erratic, wild motion, fangs gritting as he lifts Legend with one hand.
“Then why does it still hurt so much?!”
Legend slips through shaken fingers. He does not flinch or back away.
“Why, Vet?”
“That's the life of a hero,” Legend says, not unkindly. “Lots of scars that don't really fade.”
“A hero? How can I be a hero when she thought the only way to keep our worlds safe was to break them apart? We'd just won, but she still... How can I be when even the person that led me to my quest knew better?” Emptiness reflects in Twilight's watering eyes. “I thought she trusted me.”
Time's hand goes to his sword. Every instinct in his body demands that he fights off what torments his eldest this much, that he proves that princess wrong, that he makes her explain and sooth the injury she inflicted.
“She was wrong, Twi!” Wild screams, clearly aching the same way.
Time reaches forward, and, without hesitation, brings Twilight's face into his shoulder. Runs gentle fingers through the gentle brown locks. His boy shudders, then melts. Grips him with desperate strength. It's not long for the wetness to soak into Time's clothes, and he has rarely cared so little about it before.
“I'm sorry, Pup,” he whispers. “I'm so sorry.”
It's a long time before Twilight pulls back, sniffling.
“Pops, the heck ya talkin' about? Didya punch me when I wasn't lookin'?”
Wild and Wind immediately pointed accusing fingers at him, booing.
“Shush you,” he orders, stern, before softening for his eldest. “And no, I didn't sneak a hit on you, Pup, but I wronged you all the same. Sometimes, you're so good at helping others that I forget you can need help too. I should have asked earlier.”
A hand goes to the back of Twilight's head, and his lips pull into a boyish smile. “Ah, not sure I'd have sang, Old Man. Not for something this... childish.”
“It's not childish, Twilight,” Wind says with a sad, half-grin. “If it hurts, it hurts, right?”
Hyrule jumps on the line and wrestles Twilight's hands away from him. “Sometimes, you have to care for yourself too. Even if it's silly, even if it's a little thing...” And there's the shine of green magic dancing between them. “Brighten up your day.”
“Guys, please,” Twilight begins, red flushing his cheeks.
Four slips right beside him and pokes, which was unexpected enough to get a yelp. “No, no, you said your part, Twi. It's our turn.” The smirk is impish, but subdued. “We're on your side. And we do need to apologize.”
Twilight throws his arms up in frustration. “What for? This is just my problem! Nothing that you need to be concerned with. Nothing that you did.”
“Wrong.” Time doesn't notice who says it. Mostly, because he's heard more than just one voice. (It could have been eight.)
“Because... because we let you take it all on. More than your share.” Warriors crosses his arms, huffs. “It's a leader's role to care for his men, and the soldiers to take on something for their brothers. It's how units work.”
Time ignores the pinch of guilt. The Captain hadn't meant it for him, but he'll take the advice to heart anyway. It should be fine. He can see the plans being born behind Warriors' eyes. For once, he's rather convinced that none of the younger ones will protest whatever rigid protocol Warriors' cooking.
“It's not like that,” Twilight mumbles. Weaker, less stubborn. “I love helping y'all.”
“Makes you feel useful, doesn't it?” Legend scoffs, but it is soft enough that Time can't even bring himself to chastise him.
“No. You deserve it!” he says with sudden heat, eyes clearing. “All of you. You all deserve someone willing to listen and help you. I... I just wanted to help you walk through your troubles. To help you find reasons to smile again...”
He sees it, and he wants to laugh. How fitting, that it's words like these that bring soft smiles on all their faces.
“Well, mission accomplished?” Four smirks.
“Darn it, Rancher,” Warriors grunts, giving Twilight a warning look that goes ignored.
“Can't wrestle that one away from me.”
“Oh, we shall see about that. But first,” – Warriors plops down on the sand, not a care for the time and place – “we're not leaving this unsaid. Spill already so we can smile you.”
It's absurd, but Twilight's gaze flares for a short moment with competitive spirit. Those two would never cease to amaze him in the strangest ways. Twilight kicks a little sand at the captain before letting himself lean in Time's grip.
“I hate her...” he whispers, and the shame shrouds him smaller. “Why did she do this to me? Why did she tie my heart to a promise that she never intended to fulfill? I hate her...” he whispers again, near inaudible. “And I hate that I love her still...”
“So?” Wild slides in.“You know me. You know how I feel about those people from my past.”
'They were friends with me. The whole world told me I was friends with them. Sometimes, it's like I can't escape it. Even if I don't remember what food they liked, when we met, what secrets they had besides what a few glimpses told me...'
“Remember what you told me?”
Twilight huffs, looking sullen and trapped. It takes a little sigh, and then knocking their foreheads together for him to admit. “S'fine if you don't know.”
Time nods, chasing the feeling he usually avoids. The bittersweet triumph at the cost of so many friendships. The lack of recognition meant for strangers on familiar faces.  
“It can be difficult, to share people's joy when the same reason brings us pain. You can be of two minds on the same topic, Pup. People aren't that simple.”
“I feel weak.”
“You're not weak, Twilight,” Sky said with a sad smile. “If I lost my Zelda... I'd shatter.”
“Need I explain what losing Malon would do to me, Pup?” Time adds, rueful.
“But they're... you're couples. Real couples. We were never...”
Legend smacks his shoulder. “'What if's can be more painful than a clean break,” he says, and the two of them look like mirror images, lost to their dreams for the span of a heartbeat. Then, sharper, “Don't apologize.”
Twilight's mouth clicks shut.
“We're in your corner,” Four says with a private smile. “As long as it takes to make you feel better.”
The blush returns. Time will be asking for context later, though he has an inkling. Wind shuffles to one feet, then swears and pats Twilight on the back without looking at him.
“And, you know, there's nothing shameful about crying. Or missing people. Or, you know, strange sadness.”
The pup breaths out a watery giggle, and a whimpered 'brat!' Wind smugly croons to the others, saying that was how it was done. Right until the laughter turns into a shudder, and they gather round again.
“It's okay, Twi,” Sky cooes, bringing him into the folds of his sailcloth. “Let it all out.”
The pup's fight left him. Too drained by the confession. Too raw from unbinding the wraps around his wounds. It's up to them to take care of it, and there's not one of them that hesitates. They're not in the habit of leaving suffering ignored, besides their own. Not anymore.
They promise to be better.
They have to be, for each other's sake. And they will be, Time will do everything in his power to ensure it comes to pass. Their group will come out of it reforged by their own inner fires. Their bonds unbreakable, their trust rewarded.
Thank the Goddesses for the pup.
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supremeuppityone · 3 years
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This was created for the Klaroline Fall Bingo Event @klarolinefallbingo.
Prompt: “You are the treat, sweetheart.”
Please review here.
                         ________________________________________
           It wasn’t the worst heartbreak story Caroline had heard. But it definitely was the worst this season. The angry murder swans were an interesting plot twist though. She wiped down the bar, eyeing the clock before she announced, “Last call, everybody!”
           She turned to the adorable drunk resting his head on the wet rings the bottles and glasses had left behind. Klaus had spent the evening raking his fingers through his dirty blonde curls, double-fisting shots and Ward Eights when he wasn’t berating his ex-fiancé. “So, your ex, this...um...something that sounded like ‘tater tot’, walked down the aisle, stood at the altar with you in front of a church stuffed full of your friends and family, and announced that she’s been banging your brother for months and wants to marry him instead.”
           He squinted up at her, as though slowing piecing together her words. Letting out an unexpectedly boisterous guffaw, he said, “It was Tatia, actually. But tater tot is considerably more appropriate — often greasy, grows disappointingly cold, and an unpleasant aftertaste.” Fishing around in one pocket, he flashed her a devilish smirk that she would’ve found charming if it wasn’t for the bit of drool as he slurred his words, “Elijah’s welcome to her, but he’ll have to make it official without our grandmother’s ring.” He triumphantly slammed a beautiful antique ring on her bar, the neon lights making the diamonds and pearls twinkle.  
           Caroline let out a small gasp as she studied the delicate floral pattern the gemstones made. For some reason, she felt ridiculously pleased that Tatia didn’t get her grubby cheater’s hands on such a lovely piece of jewelry. “I know I shouldn’t ask, but morbid curiosity is winning right now. Did your other brother release the angry murder swans as a distraction just so you could steal back the ring?”
           “A happy accident, love. Kol thrives on chaos and he nipped out to the reception area to let them out of the paddock just to see what would happen. I took advantage of the riot that ensued once the swans started attacking the outlandish lace train of Tatia’s dress and swiped the ring.” His smile was more of a grimace, but at least he chuckled as he said, “I escaped before I saw the worst of it, but I’ve been told that by the time the swans were under control, Tatia was wearing shredded bits of overpriced lace and feathers, and both she and Elijah were smeared in droppings.”  
           Giggling, Caroline squeezed another half-lemon into the shaker, adding the grenadine and topping it off with orange juice before pouring it over what was left of the rye whisky in Klaus’ glass. She tossed in a few cherries and winked as she told him, “My treat.”
           He threw her what should’ve been a smoldering look, but instead his gray eyes seemed to cross slightly as he slurred, “You are the treat, sweetheart.”
           She rolled her eyes, not bothering to respond to his clumsy flirting. Despite the ridiculousness of the situation, she couldn’t help the way her pulse quickened. If he had this kind of effect on her now, what was he like sober? Nope, she sternly reminded herself; he’s on the gut-wrenching rebound to end all rebounds and you stopped doing one-night stands after Mr. Hair Gel seemed waaaay more into his brother and you snuck out the bathroom window once it got too squicky.
           She kept busy closing out a few more tabs, feeling the need to steamroll past the awkward silence as she cheerfully said, “So, you just hopped on a plane and decided to go on your honeymoon anyway. That’s a level of petty I can support. Mystic Shores is a tiny resort town, but you should find plenty to keep yourself busy. There’s the lighthouse, natural rock bridges, seabird sanctuary...” she trailed off when she saw how his eyes had glazed over. “Plus, lots of white sand beaches you can day drink on while watching the dolphins.”  
           “I knew I picked this place for a reason.” Klaus gulped down the rest of his drink, grimacing as he told her, “Remind me to teach you how to make a proper Ward Eight, love. It’s positively criminal the rubbish rye you’re peddling.”
           She grabbed his empty glass, putting it in the tub under the bar. Snorting, she replied, “Yeah, yeah, just add it to the rest of your complaints about my drinks. Not that it stopped you from slamming them back as fast as I poured them.”
           Klaus smirked, rising unsteadily to his feet. “A bartender should understand proper citrus techniques. Zesting citrus in advance may save time, but it dries out the fragrance and flavor you’d otherwise infuse into your drinks.”
           Normally, having her bartending skills drunkenly criticized would have Caroline covertly charging an ‘asshat tax’ when she closed out the tab, but there was something about Klaus that made her more amused than angry. She’d stealthily admired his cheekbones most of the evening, and when he occasionally stretched, the muscle definition was undeniable. He wore his classic good looks with casual indifference, but a curious melancholy hung over him despite his snarky wit. There was more than just heartbreak below his surface, and she was curious to know more. Nope. Don’t get involved. It’s not your job to fix broken people.
           As he continued to hopelessly fumble with his wallet, she gently pressed her palm to his forearm and said, “Don’t worry about it. It’s on the house.”
           It was the first genuine smile he’d given all night, and he lurched forward, placing a sweet kiss to her knuckles. “You radiate light and beauty. I should’ve known you were are an angel, Caroline.” He stumbled out of the bar before she could speak, cheeks flushed at the way his accented voice lovingly caressed her name.
           Caroline busied herself closing up the bar, barely resisting the urge to glance out the front to see if Klaus had managed to operate his ride app correctly. Not your problem. She waved off a few of the locals who invited her to the dunes to watch the sea turtle nests. They’d be hatching soon, but a bubble bath and some bad reality TV sounded much more appealing at the moment.
           Lost in her thoughts, she nearly stumbled over Klaus as she took the trash to the dumpster. With a gasp, she knelt beside him, realizing he was snoring loudly and his pockets were turned inside out.
           Damn it, Enzo.  
           “Come on, Klaus, wake up,” she hissed, lightly smacking his cheek.
           With a groan of protest, Klaus managed to sit up against the dirty brick wall, mumbling, “Bloody wanker came at me, but I gave him a right show with this,” he cursed, triumphantly waving around a fist.
           She helped him up, muttering under her breath, “Nice work. Although it looks like he still snagged your wallet and ring.” At his crestfallen expression, she hurriedly reassured him, “But don’t worry! I’ll give Enzo a call and we’ll fix it, I promise.”
                        ________________________________________
           When she heard the loud thump followed by an impressive string of cursing, Caroline knew Klaus finally was awake. It was the first time she’d let a drunk stay on her couch who wasn’t a local, but he was far too out of it to be a threat last night. Plus, her bartending over the years had given her an almost infallible bullshit meter. Klaus wasn’t dangerous. Just dangerously sexy. She rolled her eyes at that thought.
           She’d given Enzo an earful last night for not keeping a closer watch on his crew. When he dropped off Klaus’ stuff, he gave Caroline a saucy little wink and teased, “My apologies, gorgeous. I didn’t know my mates rolled your tourist fluff.”
           “Seriously?! It’s not like that — he’s just going through a rough time with his fiancé leaving him at the altar for his brother, and he doesn’t deserve getting his stuff stolen.”
           Enzo whistled, a rare look of sympathy flashing in his dark eyes. “Bollocks. No wonder he went after Jeremy like a man possessed. Gave him one hell of a shiner too — it’s my new wallpaper on my phone.”  
           Klaus stumbled into her kitchen, looking just as adorably rumpled as he did last night. Curse her weakness for complete disasters. He squinted at the sunlight pouring in from her open windows, and winced at the cheerful whirring and hissing of her espresso machine. “Caroline?”
           She blushed to the roots of her hair, ridiculously pleased that he remembered her name. “Good morning, Klaus.” She slid the cup and saucer toward him. “It’s a double shot — I figured you could use it.”
           He blinked, taking a sip as he said gratefully, “Thank you, sweetheart.”
           “You’re welcome. Um, so you probably don’t remember much from last night, but after I found you passed out in the alley, you kept muttering you were staying at a bed and breakfast. Which isn’t helpful when there’s one on almost every corner in this town. So, I let you crash here instead.”
           Klaus gave her a small smile, rubbing his forehead as he muttered, “It’s a sad commentary on my life that I’ve been in the presence of friends and family this past week and the most kindness I’ve been shown has been from a stranger.”
           “We’re not strangers,” Caroline protested with a gentle smile. “We’re just friends who haven’t finished bonding.” As she refilled his cup, she winked, “And when it’s my turn, I’m counting on you to have a very generous pour when I get left at the altar.”
           He suddenly froze, rapidly patting at his pockets, and she quickly said, “Hey, no, it’s okay! I got your stuff back.” She reached into the drawer between them, pulling out his wallet and carefully setting his grandmother’s ring on top of it. “See? I told you I’d fix it.”
           Letting out a sigh of relief, he pocketed his belongings, telling her, “You’re amazing, love. An angel, just as I suspected.” His gaze suddenly turned shrewd as he studied her, “You know the thief.”
           “Yes. I have a friend who runs a crew that robs tourists that look like they can afford it.” At his frown, Caroline felt the absurd need to make Klaus understand. “Work here is seasonal at best for a lot of us, and Enzo kind of redistributes wealth when he can.” She held her breath, waiting for his judgement. He had swans at his almost-wedding, for fuck’s sake. His type was definitely Enzo’s favorite target.
           Klaus let out an unexpected chuckle, telling her, “We should hope your friend never meets Kol. When we were in school, he set up an underground sports betting pool with the faculty and most of the staff.” Shaking his curly head in bemusement, he added, “Kol had teachers giving him passing grades just to pay off their gambling debts.”
           She burst out laughing, wiping away tears as she imagined the crazy shenanigans Enzo and Kol would get into. That’s not going to happen. Klaus is on vacation, remember? His ruined honeymoon. Her smile was overly bright as she started pulling containers from the refrigerator, explaining, “My friend Matt runs the cafe down the road. I wasn’t sure what your go-to hangover food was, so I got you mine — butter biscuits and spicy sausage gravy, vanilla custard French toast, and orange juice.”
           “You’ve spoiled me, sweetheart. I don’t know that I’ll ever be able to repay all the kindness you’ve shown me.”
           She did her best not to blush at the intensity of his gaze as he helped her set the table. They ate in companionable silence, listening to the small town slowly come to life on the street below. She waited until Old Man Gilbert’s noisy pontoon boat left the docks for the morning dolphin tour, and once the street was back to a manageable hum, she tentatively said, “Listen, I don’t know what you’re planning to do when you get back home, or if you’ve even allowed yourself to think that far ahead, but I wanted to offer you some advice.”
           When he raised an intrigued eyebrow, but didn’t comment, she blurted out, “Go crazy. This is one of those moments where you can change whatever boring, expected path you’d planned out. Invite a little chaos into your life — do something wild and unexpected.”
           The sudden press of Klaus’ lips to hers was just as thrilling as she’d imagined. He had her up against the cabinets with a resounding thud that seemed to fuel their frenzied kisses. The feel of his stubble against her neck was spicy-sweet pain that made her groan. Emboldened by her reaction, he dipped his head lower, running his tongue along her collarbone as he palmed her breast.
           Caroline reached between them, rubbing the outline of his erection with a satisfied hum. It had been far too long since someone made her skin sing. He wanted her. And yesterday he wanted someone else. That thought alone jerked her out of their pleasurable haze. Placing a palm on his chest, she gently pushed him back, her words a bit jumbled as she panted, “That was...I mean...but we shouldn’t...”
           Klaus’ cheeks were flushed as he smirked, “You advised me to do something wild and unexpected, sweetheart.”
           She snorted, “Seriously? That was totally expected.” Her tone grew serious as she told him, “Klaus, you’re going through something huge right now and I’m not looking to be someone’s detour on the way back to their life.”
           “You aren’t a detour — you’re a destination,” he replied. “But you’re probably right — I’ve had a bloody awful time of it. I need to get myself sorted.”
           The determination on his face gave her hope; Klaus would be ok.
                        ________________________________________
           Four months later, Caroline was loading up the pushcart with kegs for that evening’s tasting room event when Enzo strolled into the supply room, wearing his serious brows. She hadn’t seen those since she’d dropped Klaus off at the airport and then sulked on Enzo’s couch for days. He’d argued that she was being stubborn and should go track Klaus down. But she didn’t want to get in the middle of his left-at-the-altar-for-his-brother drama. She refused to be someone’s second choice.
           “For fuck’s sake, what is it,” she asked in exasperation, wiping the sweat at her temples with the bottom of her old t-shirt.
           Frowning, he jerked his head toward the street, telling her, “Looks like some competition has moved in, gorgeous.” At her skeptical expression, he pulled her outside, pointing to a sign that proclaimed ‘A Little Chaos’ was opening soon. It looked like a bar. Right across the street from her bar. Frowning, she quickly made her way over, blinking in disbelief as she came face-to-face with a familiar devilish smirk.
           “Caroline! I was just on my way to see you,” Klaus greeted her, that knowing smile making her blush despite her anger.
           “You’re opening a bar. Across from my bar,” she said flatly, eyeing the exquisite, hand-lettered gold leaf sign that probably cost more than her rent. “A hipster bar,” she added, wrinkling her nose.
           He chuckled as he lightly corrected her, “A speakeasy. I’ll be able to show this town how to make a proper Ward Eight.” With an impish wink, he reminded her, “Someone told me to invite a little chaos into my life. I decided to take her advice.”  
67 notes · View notes
ireviewuread · 2 years
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The Durian Bakery, Best Durian Cake in Singapore
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The Durian Bakery, Best Durian Cake in Singapore
Durian, the king of fruits, the love of many Asian families and a sin for those that tend to overconsume but do you know that durian is actually good for you? According to studies, durian improves muscle strength, skin health and even relieves anaemia.
That’s why, we should eat more durian, moderately. But what if you’re a dessert lover too? That’s where The Durian Bakery comes in. Listed in Best in Singapore’s, Singapore’s Best Durian Cakes that you should check out in 2021, The Durian Bakery offers many delicious desserts that is guaranteed to make durian lovers drool.
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The Durian Bakery
The Durian Bakery only uses premium ingredients and the best recipes to create scrumptious pastries that have you craving for more.
Additionally, they only use no-calorie sugar instead of regular white sugar. These no-calorie sweeteners are able to give the pastries the sweetness they need without increasing the glycemic effects on one’s blood sugar. The best part is, zero-calories. Finally, a pastry line where you can eat and not gain weight!
Unlike most bakeries that only use leftover, un-sellable durians that are not fresh, The Durian Bakery uses fresh durians in their pastries. These durians are delivered straight from the plantation in Pahang Malaysia. 
These durians are used to not only create their delectable pastries but to create their signature SilkyGold Puree as well.
SilkyGold Puree
The Durian Bakery only uses two types of premium durians for their signature SilkyGold Puree, the famous Mao Shan Wang or D24. Although durians purees often come across as chunky, their signature puree is guaranteed to be smooth and sweet. 
Aside from their premium ingredients, The Durian Bakery offers premium delivery as well.
Same Day Express Delivery
If you are a cluttered brain like me that doesn’t seem to remember anyone’s birthday, you would love The Durian Bakery for they offer same-day express delivery as well. You can pre-order the same day, at least 30 minutes in advance and get your pastries within 24 hours. There will be a flat rate of S$15 for such services.
If you are organised and prefers free delivery, just get over S$50 worth of items and you can get yourself free shipping.
Luckily, I was able to remember my father’s birthday before hand and gotten free delivery. But, that’s not the point. The point is we are here for some durian reviews and we will be reviewing two main things today: 
The Signature Pastries Taster Bundle that contains Dark Choco Musang King Mousse, Snowy D24 Durian Cream Puff, and Snowy D24 Durian Mochi
My father’s birthday cake - Dark Chocolate Musang King Durian Mille Crepe Cake
We will start with the bundle.
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Dark Choco Musang King Mousse
The Dark Chocolate Musang King Mousse is what one would call the chocolate dome of goodness. Standing at 6cm wide, the dome is made out of 100% dark chocolate which cacao beans were specially imported from Côte d’Ivoire (Ivory Coast). 
Once you dip your spoon into the mousse, you’ll find 2 layers: 
Signature SilkyGold Puree
100% MSW Molten Core
Right at the bottom, you’ll find a layer of hazelnut palette feuilletine supporting the dome. 
What makes this mousse really fancy is the edible 24k gold dust shimmered on the top of the dome. Although gold is known to not have any taste, it is also known to make anything look luxurious, so consider this mousse a luxury.
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There are 2 ways to eat this dessert: 
For cooler days: Thaw for 40 to 50 minutes before consumption - you’ll be able to taste the chocolate, signature puree and durian molten core all at once without creating a mess.
For hotter days: Thaw for 20 minutes before consumption - the chocolate shell will still be hard but the molten core will be soft, like ice cream.
Dark Choco Musang King Mousse Review
Upon the first bite, I was able to detect the sweet MSW molten core among the bitterness of the dark chocolate. The creamy SilkyGold Puree melted in my mouth as my taste buds tried to get a sense of the unusual flavours that were dancing in my mouth.
Oddly enough, the bitterness of the dark chocolate, sweet fragrance of the molten core and sweetness of the signature puree complimented each other perfectly.
However, what put this dessert over the top is the crunchy hazelnut palette feuilletine at the bottom, holding it all together. 
This is a dessert that one would normally get at an expensive restaurant at a much higher rate, a dessert that you simply have to indulge in.
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Snowy D24 Durian Cream Puff
If you love durian cream puffs, the renowned Snowy D24 Durian Cream Puff is the puff for you. Voted as one of the best durian puffs in Singapore, this cream puff contains no unethical artificial flavourings and it’s made of 100% natural ingredients. Even the puff shell is handmade from scratch.
Comes in a set of 12 cream puff, the 4.5cm pastry contains almost no cream at all. What? A cream puff without cream? That’s right. The “cream” in the puff is made of 95% D24 durian flesh and 5% cream. There is also no sugar in this puff.
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Snowy D24 Durian Cream Puff Review
The airy shell of the puff does a great job in bracing your palette for the richness of the durian experience the moment you bite into it. The creamy durian core fills your mouth with its aroma, ensuring every inch of your mouth is covered in its scent. 
The creamy durian core burst through the airy shell of the puff, filling your mouth with a piece of heaven every time you bite into it, that is the kind of cream puff that you should be enjoying all the times.
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Snowy D24 Durian Mochi
Inspired by the quality of mochis in Hokkaido, Japan, the Snowy D24 Durian Mochi is one of the most premium durian mochis you’ll ever taste in Singapore. This mochi not only consists of D24 durian flesh which was harvested from specifically cultivated old trees, but it also consists of a sophisticated philosophy.
The chef created this mochi after tasting over 1,000 types of mochi in Japan to understand the complex philosophy behind 100 years of Daifukumochi Craftsmanship. 
To create this exquisite mochi skin, the Mochigome (glutinous rice) goes through various processes that include being steamed, mashed and pounded with a wooden kine. All these processes could be seen the moment you pick the soft, dewy mochi up and nestle it in your mouth. 
Biting into the 3.5cm mochi will reveal a soft core filled with at least 90% D24 durian flesh, just like biting into a durian mochi ice cream. 
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Snowy D24 Durian Mochi Review
The Snowy D24 Durian Mochi is the highlight among the Musang King Pastries Bundle. Its bouncy and insanely soft skin caresses your cheeks right before your teeth penetrate them, revealing a buttery, creamy texture. The velvety surprise fills your palettes with a bitter-sweet taste and before you know it, you’re reaching out for more. 
This mochi is not only addictive but it is one of the softest and best mochi’s I’ve tasted in Singapore. 
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Dark Chocolate Musang King Durian Mille Crepe Cake
If you’re into crepe cakes, the Dark Chocolate Musang King Durian Mille Crepe Cake is a must-have for your birthday. With 39 layers - 20 layers of crepe skin and 19 layers of signature SilkyGold Puree - this crepe cake have a weigh of 1kg and could be sliced into 8 equal pieces.
This rich and creamy crepe cake is handmade fresh daily with a secrete batter recipe. The thin cocoa crepe skins are fried by hand - just imagine how much work to get 20 same-sized and same thickness crepes.
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Aside from their signature SilkyGold Durian Puree, you can also find a pleasant surprise when you cut the cake. A layer of 100% A+ Pure MSW sits right in the middle of the cake. A surprise that’ll make any durian lover smile.
Right at the top is a layer of 100% pure dark cocoa as well.
Dark Chocolate Musang King Durian Mille Crepe Cake Review
The moment my taste buds meets the cake, I was able to taste the sweetness of the signature SilkyGold Puree and the bitterness of the cocoa. Despite having only 1 layer of pure MSW, I was still able to savour the complex flavour fully while it tickles my nostrils. Unlike other crepe cakes, the layers of this cake did not disintegrate the moment you cut or bite into it. 
The unusual combination of rich bitter chocolate and sweet durian taste still makes my jaw drop as I crave more cake. After this exposure, I’ve got to say, this is better than eating the raw fruit.
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The Durian Bakery Review
The Durian Bakery provides premium pastries that will knock your socks off if you adore durians. Although I am not a huge fan of the durian fruit, I am a huge fan of the durian pastries from The Durian Bakery. The high-quality durian puree and fresh MSW added in its recipes is enough to make any durian lover ‘add to cart’.
On top of that, their cakes are of exceptional quality as well. If you are celebrating a birthday, there is an option for you to include birthday accessories (happy birthday topper, candle & knife) and even a personalised greeting card which they will handwrite for you.
My favourite is the Snowy D24 Durian Mochi which is not only soft and delectable but is filled with almost 100% of creamy durian flesh as well. 
Do note that since there are no preservatives in these pastries, that means, they’ll have a shorter shelf life. In fact, they are recommended to be consumed within the same day of delivery. However, if that is not possible, here are the recommended shelf life:
Cakes - Thawed (1 Day); Frozen (7 Days)
Pastries - Thawed (2 Days); Frozen (7 Days)
Mochi - Thawed (2 Days); Frozen (30 Days)
Also note, they are also not halal-certified as of now. Hopefully, they’ll be certified soon so everyone can try their scrumptious cakes!
The Durian Bakery
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curiosity-killed · 4 years
Text
a bow for the bad decisions
canon-divergent AU from ep. 24 (on ao3)
part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5 | part 6 | part 7 | part 8 | part 9 | part 10 | part 11 | part 12 | part 13 | part 14 | part 15 | part 16 | part 17 | part 18
Little Jin Ling has a wealth of uncles. He has, in fact, so many war heroes for uncles that he might as well have an army at his beck and call. Technically, he’s not to be presented for another month, at his hundred days’ celebration, but no one can really blame sworn brothers from visiting each other or siblings from checking in. As it is, Jiang Cheng is more than a little smug about being the only one out of all of them who can soothe a-Ling once he starts wailing. He might be the least powerful of the babe’s uncles, but he still has a shot at being his favorite. Well, alongside Wei Wuxian once he returns, but they always knew they would share the role. Running a featherlight thumb over a-Ling’s cheek, Jiang Cheng pictures Wei Wuxian holding their little nephew and immediately wrinkles his nose. He’ll be horrendous. He’s probably already thought of some absurd gift for a-Ling’s hundred days’ celebration, some toy horse spelled to gallop around him in circles or a kite that doesn’t need a wind to fly. Terrible. He can’t wait to see him. He’s not about to admit it aloud, but as they creep ever closer to the date, Jiang Cheng keeps finding himself picturing it, the three of them reunited with a-Ling cradled between them. “Jiang Cheng, give me back my son,” Jin Zixuan grumbles.
Raising an eyebrow, Jiang Cheng eyes his brother-in-law as if in challenge. He will chew off his own fingers before saying it aloud, but Jin Zixuan is not, perhaps, quite as awful as he’s always thought. Over the last year and a half, he has, somewhat, improved in Jiang Cheng’s eyes. 
He’s still ready at any moment to remind Jin Zixuan that his brothers-in-law wield some of the most powerful spiritual weapons in the cultivation world and are not so far removed from the children who once dunked him, fully robed, in Lotus Pier’s muddiest lake — but he has been trying. He dotes on jiejie and cried a little at their wedding, as he should, knowing how little he deserves a-jie’s love. Besides, it makes jiejie sad when they fight. Reluctantly, he passes over the sleeping baby. “If you wake my nephew—” he starts. “Yes, I know, you’ll break my legs and tell Wei Wuxian,” Jin Zixuan interrupts, but it’s in a whisper so Jiang Cheng lets it go. A-Ling doesn’t so much as stir as he’s passed into his father’s arms; his round face, so often wrinkled with an early scowl, is blissfully serene in sleep. Jin Zixuan pauses, his expression doing something terribly soft and fond as he gazes down at his son. Embarrassed for him, Jiang Cheng turns away. Jin Guangyao and Lan Xichen have already left, apparently off to talk about some lofty Lan music or practice with their guqins, but Nie Mingjue stands by the door, arms crossed over his chest. “Jiang-zongzhu,” he says and nods slightly toward the garden outside. Uneasy, Jiang Cheng still nods in acceptance and follows the older sect leader. They’re quiet at first, pacing along the pale paths of the gardens of Jinlintai. “Now that the camps have been reviewed and relocation has begun,” Nie Mingjue says as they round a corner, “it would be beneficial to speak to Wei Wuxian himself.” He’s known this was coming, but Jiang Cheng still has to stifle worry at Nie Mingjue’s comment. Of course they need to speak with Wei Wuxian — but so far, he’s been safest when he’s far from the rest of the cultivation world. They’re walking a precarious line to a peaceful future; the last thing they need is a confrontation, Wei Wuxian caught on the wrong side of the world’s blades. He nods slightly instead of voicing his concerns. “The Wen siblings are the most wanted among the prisoners,” Nie Mingjue continues, “along with Wei Wuxian himself. The destruction of the Stygian Tiger Seal may not be sufficient on its own.” Worry nestles deeper in Jiang Cheng’s chest, chews at the back of his breastbone. He still doesn’t know what to do with the warning Wen Qing gave them. She told them as much as she could in the few minutes she had, but none of it provided a solution. His brother can’t destroy the Seal without killing himself, and the cultivation world will kill him if he doesn’t hand it over. Jiang Cheng knows better than to suggest Wei Wuxian simply give the Seal to Jin Guangshan, but he’s wondered if, perhaps, he would trust Nie Mingjue to lock it away. “I’ve heard talk that the skies over Yiling are clearer now than they’ve been in memory,” Nie Mingjue says, almost a little grudging. “Whatever your errant brother’s doing, if it’s purifying the Burial Mounds, there is a chance that could be claimed as his and the Wens’ debt.” He doesn’t exactly sound enthusiastic about the idea, and Jiang Cheng frowns a little as he considers it. He doesn’t know much of what actually goes on in the Burial Mounds; Wei Wuxian’s letters are usually focused more on ideas for Lotus Pier, as if he can continue to teach their shidis while half a world away. What he does say of the Wen settlement is often idle chatter: how crops are coming in, when they finished building a drying shed, how some of the aunties sewed new robes. Little anecdotes pepper the letters, almost always featuring Wen Qing, her brother, and little Wen Yuan. Grudgingly, he’s resigning himself to the fact that he may have to recognize the boy as his nephew. He should probably talk to Wei Wuxian about bringing him into Yunmeng Jinag; any child of Wei Wuxian has a place among their ranks. His letters come through couriers or traveling parties, fat little bundles of paper brought hand-by-hand to Lotus Pier rather than the messenger arrows of Yunmeng Jiang cultivators. Reading them, Jiang Cheng wonders sometimes if this is how his father felt with Wei Changze on the road. Did his right hand send back reports of Yunmeng and the border towns? Was there the same mix of thoughtful sect business and fond chatter? He doesn’t remember much of Uncle Wei, just flickers of a warm smile and a kind hand on his shoulder. By the time Jiang Cheng was old enough for firm memory, Wei Changze and Cangse Sanren were dead. “I am sure Wei Wuxian would be happy to discuss with you,” he says now. “The group has settled into something that might serve for a more permanent basis.” Nie Mingjue nods. Jiang Cheng hesitates a moment. He’s still not really used to speaking with the other sect leaders as an equal; standing among them, he’s always half-ready to have his ideas laughed down, to be scorned into silence. “There is something else, Chifeng-zun,” he admits, “about the Stygian Tiger Seal.” Nie Mingjue’s brow furrows. As much as he looks up to Nie Mingje, Jiang Cheng has to be careful. All the sects are vying for the same limited power, and Yunmeng Jiang is still healing from the massacre. He can’t give too much away. “There is risk that destroying the seal could be dangerous,” Jiang Cheng says, carefully not saying who would be in danger. “While we are in agreement that it is too powerful an artifact to be kept in an individual’s control, it may be prudent to — contain it, instead. The Nie sect has more experience with resentful weapons than most.” He and jiejie had talked it over before, trying to find some solution. It was hard, in those discussions, not to miss their usual font of ideas, but they’d puzzled out this sketch of a plan at last. Nie Mingjue turns to face him fully, scowl deepening. Jiang Cheng always has a sense of being measured when he does this, as if Nie Mingjue is taking stock of whoever’s in front of him as he faces them. “You would not have one man control it, but you would trust one sect with it,” he says flatly. “Yunmeng Jiang and Qinghe Nie have long held each other’s trust,” Jiang Cheng answers, squaring his shoulders. “We would expect witnesses from each sect for any sealing ceremony as well as Wei Wuxian, as the creator of the Seal.” After another long moment of eyeing him, Nie Mingjue breathes out and drops his arms. His gaze turns out over the gardens, but Jiang Cheng doesn’t think he’s looking at the flowers. “He couldn’t have made it easier on us all by having it only respond to one master?” he mutters. Jiang Cheng’s not sure how serious the complaint is but— “Powerful artifacts are known to develop sentience regardless of their original loyalty,” he points out. Something like annoyance flickers over Nie Mingjue’s face, but he only exhales and doesn’t object. “And Wei Wuxian is willing to except this?” he asks. “I am still his sect leader,” Jiang Cheng retorts. Not that that’s mattered much in the past, but the other leaders could stand to remember it. There’s a moment where Nie Mingjue studies him, almost evaluative. It makes his skin crawl, but he forces himself to stand steady and meet his dark eyes. Finally, Nie Mingjue huffs out a breath and gives a short nod. “Alright,” he says. Jiang Cheng’s eyes widen and he nearly blurts out an incredulous reply but just barely manages to hold it in. Some of his mother’s lessons stuck, after all. “I’ll visit and see the settlement for myself,” Nie Mingjue says. “We can discuss containment and relocation afterwards.” “I will look forward to the discussion, Chifeng-zun,” Jiang Cheng says with a polite salute. He does not break into a grin or pinch himself to be assured that this is working out. There is still plenty of work to do. Nie Mingjue might visit the Burial Mounds settlement and decide no Wen deserves such a living; he might think long on Wei Wuxian’s outburst in Fragrance Hall and decide it is best the Stygian Tiger Seal is destroyed. There are still so many ways it can go wrong. But — but maybe it won’t. Maybe this will work and Jiang Cheng will get his brother back and the world will steady into its rhythms once more. Even if Wei Wuxian has to stay in the Burial Mounds for a little longer, to cleanse them of their resentment and thereby apologize to the cultivation world, it’s not like Yiling is so far away. He’ll be able to visit and if he persuades them to let a-Yuan study in Lotus Pier, Wei Wuxian will have that much more cause to return. He just has to be patient. It’s never been a strength, but there’s only a month till Wei Wuxian will be here for their nephew’s celebrations. He just has to keep everything rowing steadily along for that month, and then they’ll be able to talk. He and jiejie will talk Wei Wuxian out of destroying the seal and, with it, himself, and even if Nie Mingjue doesn’t agree to Nie Sect containing the Seal, surely Wei Wuxian will be able to come up with something else. He’s always been too clever for his own good; what is one more impossible thing? The two of them part, but Jiang Cheng gives himself a moment to stand in the garden and breathe in the soft sweetness of the peonies before he turns back to find jiejie. As much as he’d like to stay and coo over his nephew for the entire month until their brother gets here, he is leader of a sect. There is always work waiting for him.
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