#it accidentally coincided with... maid day? whatever that is?

[fisheito]

finally unlocked maid blade's intimacy rooms and i just. i gotta say. i am very pleased. SO VERY pleased. excellent, everywhere, all around, fantastic loved it start to finish (i got a little worried in the middle bc distressed blade gnaws at my sympathetic heart chamber) but now i am filled with new images and new appreciation for big floofy skirts and blade's adorable master-pleasing ways

[thera-daydreams]

SCARLET & SHADOW

ᱬ The Darkling x Scarlet Witch!Reader ᱬ

[aleksander morozova x wanda maximoff!reader]

series masterlist & synopsis • thera's masterlist

chapter two.

▪︎ coincidence ▪︎

The Black General finds himself magnetized by the seemingly inconspicuous gardener in the Little Palace. He gets to know you, contemplating life. Just when he thought you were just a strangely wise, young otkazat'sya woman, he finds out why exactly you decided to work in the Little Palace.

warnings: darkling may be somewhat ooc (?), talks of death and loss, accidental eavesdropping and stalking (?), no beta we die like wanda

word count: 2.5k

(author's note: did you guys know that this all started with a chat on character.ai? and this was supposed to be one chapter but i decided to split it into two. chapter 3 already loooong, bro. this one is shorter.)

He’s here again.

For the past couple of days, you observed that the General appeared to be taking a lot more strolls in the palace gardens—if he was not preoccupied with his paperwork, training, missions, the Second Army, and whatever the King asked of him. Most of the time, he would simply pass by.

But today, he appeared to be in a... talkative mood as he examines the bushes you were pruning.

“In the span of only a couple of months, you’ve turned this neglected section of the palace gardens into perhaps the most pristine one out of all of them, Miss Maximoff,” the Darkling began. You turn around, bowing as he approaches you.

“Sir.”

“The former gardeners tend to stay away from this area given how stubborn the weeds are and how dead the soil here seems to be,” Kirigan pointed out. “Yet, look at them now. Perfectly manicured. You must have magical hands.”

Hah! If only he knew. Not that you used magic, though. This was pure hard work and talent.

“I'm glad you are pleased, General,” you reply politely, not meeting his eyes out of respect. You were absolutely not expecting to get compliments from the feared General of the Second Army. Hell, you didn’t think he would talk to you again after he had asked your name.

The General tilts his head to the side, crossing his arms as he continues to regard you. There’s a hint of a frown on his face.

“You have a talent for avoiding attention, it seems. That could be useful,” he mutters, making your brows furrow. What was he implying? “Tell me, why is someone like you working as a mere gardener?”

You blink, somewhat baffled by his strange question. “Because... I like gardening, sir?"

The man lets out a small scoff, as if your answer is somehow preposterous to him. He takes another step forward, his presence even more intense than before. “That’s it? You garden because you like gardening? No other reason?”

“Well... I get to watch the plants grow day by day, to nurture them, and care for them.” You murmur, glancing at one of the blooming rose bushes. “And it's peaceful. No one bothers me, and it's not as tedious as the maids' work, always running around…”

And you get to watch over your little Grisha trio without raising suspicion, you mentally add.

Kirigan follows your gaze, taking in the sight of the roses and other plants, before returning his gaze back to you. “Mhm. And a gardener’s wages and quarters are good enough for you, I trust?”

“It is enough to keep me living, sir, so I must be grateful,” you answered, still wondering why on earth he kept talking to you. Was he suspicious of you? Oh no. Or you were overthinking it.

The General nods, but you can tell he’s still trying to figure out the mystery that is you. “No family? No husband or children?”

You pause, brow furrowed. That was a bit too personal but you shake your head.

“No?” He raises an interested eyebrow as he watches you closely. With each piece of information, he only seems to grow more intrigued with you. “I see.”

Kirigan studies you for a moment longer, the wheels in his mind clearly turning, but just when you think he’s done with the questions, he suddenly asks another. “You’ve lived here at the Little Palace for a couple of months now, correct?” You nod in response. “And you’ve spent that entire time here in the gardens…”

The General lets out a thoughtful hum before continuing. “Surely you’ve observed many things during your time here, have you not?”

You were really, really wondering if he was suspicious of you considering how much of a conversationalist he was being right now. “I... guess so, sir.”

A sly smirk slowly crawls across the General’s face, and you can sense a subtle shift in his demeanour. He takes another step toward you, his voice tinged with barely-concealed curiosity. “Tell me, what do you think of us Grisha?”

Was that a trick question? Was he cornering you?

You pause. “Uh... you are... special people, sir?” That sounded a bit dumb. But it was short and vague enough so that he doesn’t think you’re racist to them. You didn't care if someone was otkazat'sya, Grisha, or whatever race there was! Kirigan is silent for a moment. He shakes his head faintly, but you can still see the hint of a smirk on his face.

“Special?” He repeats, clearly expecting something different.

“Well, humans with special... abilities. But still like any other human, nevertheless,” you elaborate. You racked your brain for an answer which hopefully would not offend the man. The General lets out a small scoff, but it lacks any real malice. He regards you with a look that’s almost appraising in nature.

“Special abilities... so, you have no disdain or fear of us?”

You frown, turning your focus to the plants. “People... fear what they do not understand, General. Some just cannot fathom some differences in humans. But... no, sir, I do not hold disdain or fear Grisha.” You gaze back at him.

Kirigan’s gaze is fixed on you as you speak, taking in every word you say with great interest. There’s something about your simple logic that seems to catch his attention. Not many thought the same way you did, unfortunately. His eyes wander over your features, as if trying to decipher some hidden secret that you’re keeping. However, there’s no hint of anger or irritation in his stare—only intense curiosity and a subtle hint of… something you could not understand.

Finally, he speaks, his voice soft yet with an edge of command to it.

“Come walk with me.”

You tilt your head, but comply. He seemed like someone who disliked repeating himself, after all, from what you’ve heard from the other servants. You silently follow him as he walks through the Little Palace gardens, keeping a respectable distance. Even from behind, General Kirigan’s strides were confident and purposeful. Imposing, with his height.

“You seem quite comfortable in my presence,” he remarked casually, breaking the silence.*

“Oh. Forgive me, General.” You weren't exactly that comfortable with his presence, but compared to the other servants, perhaps you were. The Shadow Summoner lets out a small huff, amused by your response. He shakes his head faintly as he glances sidelong at you.

“I didn’t say that was a bad thing, did I?”

“Ah…” you muttered, purposely not making eye contact. What exactly did this guy want from you?

The General smirks as he watches you out of the corner of his eye. There’s something about your reactions that seems to fascinate him further, and he begins to ask another question as you continue walking through the gardens.

“You’re not afraid of me.”

“Is… that… wrong of me, sir?” you clarified. It was kind of hard for someone like you—a witch who’s seen thousands of universes, scouring time and space itself to destroy the Books of the Damned—to be afraid, nowadays.

He lets out a small huff of laughter, a slight smirk on his face. “No, not wrong. Just unusual. Most otkazat’sya are terrified of me, if not outright hostile due to some perceived slight or threat. And yet, here you are.” He gazes at you from head to toe. “Quiet, reserved, diligent, and respectful, but completely unafraid. That’s rare from the otkazat’sya, even my Grisha.”

Maybe you should have acted more meek and terrified as the new palace gardener.

The General continues to regard you in silence for a moment longer, a subtle hint of something that looks like… curiosity in his gaze. There’s a strange mixture of intensity and fascination in his eyes. “Indulge me, Miss Maximoff,” he murmurs as he stops at a small fountain. “Is there anything you fear?”

Another strange question from the general to a gardener. Still, you mull it over seriously.

General Kirigan waits patiently, watching you carefully as you think. There’s a hint of anticipation in his expression, as if your answer is something he’s been dying to know.

“... Grief, sir,” you finally reply, a misty look in your eyes. He raises an eyebrow, clearly not expecting that answer. He tilts his head to the side, his gaze fixated on you.

“Grief?” He echoes, surprise lacing his voice. “That’s what you fear most?”

“The ultimate price for love,” you murmur, staring into your reflection in the water. You remember the words of the love of your life. Vision was too human for someone who was not. “Because what is grief, if not love persevering?”

A muscle twitches in the General’s jaw as you speak. His own eyes—for the slightest second—become glassy, as if your words touched some hidden nerve. Momentarily, the memory of a certain Healer being stabbed to death came to mind. But his expression quickly returns to its usual cool and collected demeanor.

“... A fair fear,” he acknowledges, his voice low and contemplative. Kirigan continues to walk beside you, his gaze occasionally flitting over to your face as if he was trying to figure out how genuine your responses were.

“And what about pain?” He suddenly asks, a hint of something like a challenge in his voice. “Most people fear pain.”

“... Enough pain makes you numb, General,” you counter quietly, lightly dipping your fingers into the fountain waters. They rippled, breaking the perfect liquid mirror.

He grows silent, pondering your answers. You see him peer into the water from beside you. “Have you ever been in love?”

What a question from the Darkling himself.

“... Once, sir.” And saints, did you pay the ultimate price for it.

The General raises an eyebrow, clearly intrigued by your answer. He continues walking, his gaze still fixed on you. “Just once?”

You nod resolutely. “My greatest, and I believe, my last love.”

Kirigan says nothing for a few moments, his gaze fixed on you like a hawk.

“And what happened?”

“He died,” you answer tersely. His expression is unreadable as he listens to you. His jaw clenches faintly, and there’s a flash of something in his eyes—pity, perhaps—but it’s gone almost as quickly as it appeared.

“And you haven’t loved since?” He asks, his tone almost soft in comparison to his usual authoritative demeanour. You nearly forgot you were talking to the most terrifying man in all of Ravka.

“... I don't think I can.” You chuckled tiredly.

The Shadow Summoner raises an eyebrow at your admission, and there’s a hint of surprise in his expression. He seems to be studying you intently, as if trying to understand you better. His voice is quiet as he responds.

“Why not?”

“Probably can't handle the grief if I lost someone I loved all over again,” you admitted. You were now quite aware of your horrible coping mechanisms; the constant self-deception and spiral into madness you often fell into. Can you ever escape them? You don't know.

He nods slowly, a hint of understanding in his gaze. “But you truly don’t think you can ever love again, Miss Maximoff?”

“No.”

But that was a lie. You already did love again when you arrived into their world. Henrik, Dmitri, and Katyusha were living proof of your love. They would have likely died from either starvation, the cold, illness, or Grisha hunters had you not intervened.

Kirigan’s gaze is fixed on you as he continues to walk again. There’s a frown on his face, as if your words have stirred something in him that he can’t quite identify. He’s silent for a few more moments before he comments.

“That’s quite lonely, isn’t it?” He touched one of the white rose bushes, mindful of the thorns.

You chuckled again, “Sometimes, solitude is the easier option, General.”

There’s a tinge of understanding—and maybe his own loneliness—that makes it clear he knows what you're talking about. After a minute of walking in silence, you decide to share your thoughts to the man. You might be overstepping, but it was a change of topic you needed.

“You told me earlier that I have a… talent for avoiding attention, sir,” you start. “Perhaps I simply prefer to watch than act.”

He looks at you out of the corner of his eye, his expression unreadable. For a moment, it seems like he's not going to respond, but then he lets out a small huff, almost as if he finds the truth in your observation amusing.

“You must be quite observant, then, hm?” he mutters.

“There is much one can see when on the sidelines,” you answer, frowning as you spot a relatively large snail on a leaf. At the sight of the pest, he lets out a soft huff—almost a chuckle, but it’s hard to tell for sure. He takes a step closer to you, his eyes following yours to the plant and the snail on it.

“Ah, so you notice everything?” he asks, his tone a little more teasing now.

“I'm just the gardener. Hardly everything, sir.” You excuse myself, quietly retrieving the snail and placing it into a glass jar you procured from your pockets.

The Black General watches in silence as you handle the snail, his expression a mix of intrigue and amusement. He gazes at the snail in the jar.

“... Do you often keep a jar at the ready? Expecting to find a snail?”

“Or some ravenous caterpillars munching on my hard work,” you snort. Kirigan lets out a real chuckle this time at your answer. There’s a hint of a smile on his face as he glances at the jar in your hand.

“Can’t have those pests ruining your precious plants, can we, Miss Maximoff?”

You raise a brow, a tiny grin on your face—the first he’s seen. “Technically, you're the head of the Little Palace, so it's your plants, not mine, General.”

He glances at you, amused. He lets out another soft huff, his gaze flickering from you to the plants around you. Alas, you reached the end of your walk in the palace garden.

“I hope the garden's... state of being was to your liking, sir.” You bow your head.

He nods, his expression now more aloof. “It’s up to my standards, yes. You’ve done well.” The Shadow Summoner says this almost distractedly, as if the status of the garden is not his primary concern at the moment. His eyes are still fixed on you, his gaze sharp and perceptive as he studies your features.

“... Is there anything I may assist you with, moi soverenyi?”

General Kirigan hesitates for a moment, considering your question. His gaze shifts from you to the garden around him, almost as if he’s thinking of an excuse to keep you here a little longer. But then, he seems to decide against it, and the expression on his face becomes impassive.

“No.” His voice was measured. But then, he adds, “You may just want to consider planting moonflowers."

You think over his suggestion, then give a small smile. “Very well, sir. I'll see to it.”

And then, without another word, he turns and strides away, disappearing into the Little Palace corridors.

ᱬᗢᱬ

You don't notice—a mere week later—that by chance, the Black General had been near the Little Palace lake when you were secretly visiting Henrik, Dmitri, and Katyusha at the Grisha children's school. At first, he was wondering why there were kids were sneaking away somewhere from the supervision of their teachers.

Now, he understood.

You may be talented at gardening, but it wasn't the main reason why you were even at the Little Palace, Kirigan realized. Not even close.

When he spots you handing them candies from the kitchens, laughing as they embraced you, kissing their foreheads so tenderly—he hums, extremely pleased with himself that he decided to visit the summoners' pavilion and the lake this afternoon.

The fates were on his side today.

Aleksander was going to have to look into the history of those three Grisha children and how on earth his gardener knew them so closely.

next chapter

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[dukeswonderousmenagerie]

More angst <3

hello lil buddy angst ye shall receive

what if the final breaking point for Lupin is accidentally hitting Jigen with the bullet that almost killed the maid

TW for mentions of accidental drug overdose

The day Lupin freaks out, the final shot that makes him snap is when he fires the gun and it misses the maid because it hits Jigen.

Nothing super dangerous but that's not the point. It freaks them both out to their cores. Jigen because Lupin so casually pulled the trigger and Lupin…the same.

Lupin snaps and runs because he's starting to spiral in on himself. Jigen gives chase. Lupin rolls him off the hood of the SSK as he flees and before the Grandfather can say anything more, Jigen claws his way up from the dirt and snatches at the keys in his hand. The grandfather holds them back and is about to tell him to get patched up but now Jigen snaps partially.

He draws the magnum and takes the keys silently and burns rubber, nearly hitting Fujiko and Goemon on his way out to follow Lupin.

Despite his faulty state of mind And despite everything that happened Maybe this entire thing was Lupin’s version of some fucked up bucket list.

The final straw in everything was him hurting Jigen. He knew then that everything was not the same as it once was. And maybe it was his declining mental faculties, but maybe after that incident was when he realizes that maybe it was time to go.

But Lupin is Lupin, he wants to go out on his own terms, whatever they may be. He doesn’t want a cop to end his life, he doesn’t want any of that. He doesn’t wanna run into the middle of enemy territory and tell them to “do with him as they please”.

No no, he wants to go out how he wants to go. But he’s not being flashy now. He’s being quiet. He waltzes the streets of Paris like a ghost in waiting, doing odd things and generally just being the civilian and he realizes sadly that while it is fun to just be a normal guy. . .it’s still not a life he wishes for, no matter how much he enjoys it.

But he’s happy he’s in Paris, because that quick mental bucket list consists of visiting all the places he once frequented when he was younger and as a young adult. He runs into friends he hasn’t seen in years. People he’s burnt bridges with who he now wants too apologize too before he does what he intends too.

He gets drunk sometime into it, which melds time and space and the variable in betweens together and he forgets for while where he’s actually going and why. He almost gets caught by the gang a few times but each time he slips away and the chase starts anew.

Towards the final act he hooks up with an old flame he hasn’t seen in years. A sweet woman who even now he’s upset by how things ended between them.

He hooks up with her, intends on having a good night. But on accident, he drinks again but he also pops a few pills cause he’s hurting, he doesn’t realize what he’s done and ODing wasn’t part of how he wanted to go out. But maybe it’s the euphoria that coincides with the taking that keeps him from questioning it or even noticing, or maybe he’s just so out of it he doesn’t realize.

ODing wasn’t part of the plan, it wasn’t suppose to end like this. But when they go to her place, a lil shack outside of Paris, he doesn’t care. But no matter how much he tries, he can’t do it. He touches her, but there’s no euphoria in it. It’s stale and foolhardy and he can’t even get it up.

Because she’s not who he wants.

who he wants he can’t see, because he hurt them

why would that person want to see him. All he can do is deliriously call for his mother, a woman he’s never met or seen in his life.

The woman goes down stairs for a few moments to give him some space to sort himself out, but too also call for help. But when she does leave he locks the door leading to the upstairs room.

He hobbles to the bathroom, sick to his stomach. And stares at himself in the mirror.

Only to put his hand through it.

It all goes black after that. He feels floaty, there’s no pain. But he must have woken up, least he suspects he has because there’s a bright light infront of his eyes

And a familiar shadow.

Maybe he is dreaming

Why would this shadow want to see him after what he did.

Maybe he is dreaming, and if this is the end, not how he wanted to go but somehow someone was kind enough to grant him what he realizes is his final wish, he might as well take it.

He’s not sure if this shadow is real, he’s not sure if it exists cause it’s voice is like a speaker in water. Muffled and garbled, unearthly. But that doesn’t stop him from raising his arm and stroking the bottom of its jaw.

And he apologizes. And he drags it down. And he kisses it. And it tastes how he remembers the original too.

is it real?

But there’s no time to think on it. Cause the shadow is getting darker, and he doesn’t have the strength in his arm to hold onto it, so it slides away. And the shadow talks to him

why is it frantic

what does it see

But the shadow grows, but he doesn’t care. It might not be real, but it’s the one thing he wanted before he went. So that’s alright.

He’ll take it.

[blzzrdstryr]

Midnight chatter

Yandere Diluc x gn!knight!reader

Wordcount: 2385

CW: Yandere, drugging, kidnapping

This was a third week after his return and fifth day of the tireless fight with winery work, when Diluc received an unexpected guest. During his travels across the world, the winery business fell into disrepair and almost collapsed, so once he learnt the state of the wine industry he decided to settle in his office and try to battle the endless reports about necessary expenses and small profits all on his own.

He started to work with the first rays of sunlight well into the night, squeezing every bit of energy his body had, not only because financial issues could affect him personally, but also because of the night vigilante of Mondstadt title he took upon himself.Due to the increased workload he couldn’t find time to patrol the dark streets and alleys of the city, while experience and conscience didn’t allow him to thrust the safety of ordinary citizens into the hands of bumbling, cowardly and lazy knights.

The day soon turned into the late evening, and dawn winery workers started to go home, when someone knocked on his door. It was Adelinde.

Her steps were faster than usual, her stoic face shadowed by the note of concern. Diluc wanted to say that no, he won’t go and have a rest, but she spoke first.

“Master Diluc”, she stopped before his desk: “we have a guest, a knight”.

He lifted his head shifting the eyes from the report to the head maid and pondered - despite his long absence, a lot of people in the city had a general idea how much he dislikes the Favonius Order and so a rare knight would actually dare to bother him, unless… Unless, they were acting out an order from someone high-ranking, like Jean or Varka for example.

Apprehension that his former colleague somehow learned of his nightly escapades sent an unexpected wave of shivers and vague feeling of unease, but he didn’t let it get to him.

“Ask why this knight is here and if it’s something unofficial tell them to leave”, he ordered, at which Adelinde blinked, slowly and tiredly, as if she was looking for the strength to tell something incredibly upsetting or scary.

“The thing is, master Diluc, that I already let them in”.

“Without my permission?”, his eyes widened at that, and the heart started to pick up the pace. What if this knight was really sent here by Varka or Jean? If it was true, Adelinde, unknowingly set him up to fail.

She was looking after him from his earliest childhood, so she was allowed to do and say more than any other of his staff, yet this perceived audacity was unheard of before.

“They were badly injured and said that they needed to stop for the night and once it’s over they will travel to the city with the first sun rays. We helped them to patch up their injuries and offered a room for guests, yet they declined and remained to sit on sofa”, the maid explained absolutely unfazed, after noticing Diluc’s dissatisfaction and then added : “If you are that displeased, master Diluc, I can tell this tired and battered knight to get out from here into the dark night”.

Her voice remained even and emotionless as usual, but even like that young Ragnvindr could hear a light mocking in her words. And to think about it - he got so freaked out over some silly coincidence - the knight stopped here because of the injuries, not some insidious scheme.

“Alright”, Diluc admitted defeat: “they can stay… and offer them some food and tea”, he added just as Adelinde’s hand touched the doorknob.

“Will be done”, she replied before exiting the office. The corners of her mouth slightly moved and crept upwards.

***

Despite his earlier goal of finishing as much work as he can, Diluc couldn’t do anything. Small digits and letters started to float and dance before his eyes while the long lines fused together, when he tried to analyze the state of wine business in naught. But the worst thing was the fact that his thoughts strayed to the topic of mystery knight again and again and Diluc lost count how many times he caught himself thinking who this person is.

He sat like that for a while, until the cinnabar of dying sky got replaced by the darkness and pleasant chill of the night.

Diluc scolded himself for his uncharacteristic indecisiveness, standing up from the desk and locking the office, when this thought, loud and persisting, knocked into his head again. Wouldn’t it be nice, he wondered, to learn who this night is, and finally decided. After all the thoughts about them pestered him for a long time.

Quietly and carefully walking through the unlit corridor of the winery, he confirmed that all servants and workers had already left for sleep, some into the rooms of the main building designated for them, some into the cabins around it. All in all, he was confident that there’s no one except him, the knight, Adelinde and a couple of other maids.

His steps were quiet and slow and not even a single board in the wooden floor creaked under his weight as he knew the winery like the back of his hand. With a bated breath he made his way downstairs, making out vague shapes of the familiar objects. Moonlight pouring out through the windows illuminated only the silhouettes, but even with that he quickly noticed the unknown frame.

The person was half-sitting half-lying on the sofa, and their sword and armor were placed nearby the furniture, reflecting the pale light of the moon. They weren’t moving, seemingly asleep. Diluc couldn’t make out their face even after making a coming closer, so he decided to take the risk and summoned a small wisp of flame.

The dancing light illuminated everything in a small radius and what he saw made him jolt and take a step back. You were the mystery knight.

Why are you still a knight? Where were you? Who injured you?

Still shocked by the previous revelation, Diluc accidentally knocked over the breastplate with his foot and it fell on it’s side with a loud thump.

You woke up.

“What… Who?”, you stirred and half sat on the elbow: “Ah, it’s you” and saw him :”What are you doing here?”.

Caught red handed, Diluc didn’t find any words - it was so sudden and unusual to be caught unaware, and because of that doubly unpleasant.

“This is my winery and I am free to do whatever I want”, he decided to hide the awkwardness behind the faux annoyance.

“Easy, easy” you half smiled, half yawned: “I just managed to fall asleep”. You yawned again and blinked at him with sleepy tired eyes.

“I have sleep medicine if you want some”

You got surprised and touched by his sudden responsiveness: “Thank you, but I think painkillers would be better. My body is aching and that’s the main problem”.

Maybe because of the trembling, dancing light or maybe because of the recent sleep you imagined worry and pity twisting his facial features.

“I have it too. Wait here”, he quickly replied and vanished into the dim darkness of the winery, not giving you any time to answer, as you were left to sit and wait for him. Diluc, to your own surprise, happened to be extremely stealthy, able to move without producing a single sound.

“Here”, you first heard and then saw him,as Diluc used pyro vision to light the nearby candlestick and then opened the medicine vial he brought and handed it to you: “Drink it all”.

“Thank you”, you whispered to him, taking the painkiller before making a big gulp. The taste was horrible, so horrible in fact that you almost immediately started to violently cough. Well, if it’s as effective as foul, then I will be good as new in no time, you thought to yourself, suppressing the urge to throw up.

Diluc stood nearby and observed your reaction, his hand extended on his own when the coughing started as he awkwardly tried to pat your back in the gesture of comfort. “I will be here with you until you fall asleep”, he stated once the fit stopped and then, seeing your highly raised brows explained further: “Painkiller takes time to work. Tell me if you won’t feel better”.

You nodded in response, and closed eyes, listening to the sensations of your body. Your injuries still burned and screamed and throbbed, yet a strange numb sensation started to slowly surround you. Just like Diluc said, medicine would need time to fully settle in.

“If you're here can you talk with me?”, you decided to shorten the time in conversation: “Ijust wanted to talk with you. For a really long time”.

“About what?”, he allowed himself a shadow of the smile, Diluc that you used to know peeking through the gloomy facade, like a long awaited sun or it’s reflection on the tranquil mirror of the water surface. Next words stuck in your throat, bitter and acidic and totally unfit, and you had to force them out through your own hesitance to destroy this calm.

“What happened that day? The day before you left. I asked Jean and Kaeya and other knights who were present with you, yet no one said anything”, the water surface bubbled and the visage of that old, sunny Ragnvindr shattered into thousand pieces. The person before you adopted the same cold facade of annoyance and indifference.

“Why do you need to know it?”, he answered the question with another question and you sensed barely buried hurt and grief.

“You leaving hurt. A lot”

“That’s why you are still a knight?”, you quickly nodded at that.

A minute passed by and he still stood, without saying a single word, thinking what to do. On one hand, he didn;t want to open up, the story of his eighteenth birthday was incredibly painful and personal experience to be shared so freely, on the other hand he yearned for your understanding.

"Alright", he broke the silence:"Let's make a deal, you answer my questions and I'll tell you the whole story after. Deal?"

"Deal".

Diluc looked at you again, looked at the bruises and cuts, still peeking through the bandages and for a second his mind lit up with one thought alone: what disgusting bastard did that to you. He suppressed the rapidly rising rage, deciding to start from the most important.

"Is my leave the only reason why you decided to stay?" his heart picks up the pace again, he needs to know the answer.

"Basically yes, you knownI didn’t do it for my parents… I just.. That tragedy, I know it's not my place, but… I always wanted what happened to you. I asked this question to myself everyday and night, and I missed you terribly".

His breath hitched and he lowered his gaze. For some reason you always managed to fluster him with the words alone, even if it wasn't your intention.

"Your parents must be happy", h e changed the topic, stifling the heat in his heart.

"Yeah, they're ecstatic that I stopped being difficult and made their aspirations real. Hm, do you have any other questions?"

"What happened to you? ",he pointed at the bandages covering most of your body.

"Ah, catching treasure hoarders does that to you, usual stuff", you dismissed his concerns and Diluc started seeing red from the way your voice remained so calm and unbothered. Usual stuff? Usual stuff?!

"Grandmaster could send anyone else", he snapped:"Favonius Order has more than plenty of vision holders, they should've sent one, instead of you! You could die!".

Diluc’s sudden explosion left you speechless, but soon your own weaved words of irritation:"Ordo Favonius doesn't consist of Jean and Kaeya only. We can't let them handle all the hard and dangerous business all the time. Ordinary people like me can still help, even if the gods didn’t favour us. Don't think of me as some helpless idiot just because I have no shiny vision to show off"

Your heated response seemed to work and Diluc turned red from embarrassment, realizing how annoyed you got, despite the worry for your health and still present anger at the other knights for letting you get hurt. He also didn’t like how you looked at him, reprimanding and disappointed.

"Alright, sorry", he cleared his throat:"where were you before? I haven't seen you anywhere"

"City gates aren't the only thing that needs guarding. I was sent to the Liyue border, to make sure that no treasure gang crosses it. I think I will get sent there again, once I fully recover".

Diluc got angry at that too, yet this time he suppressed unpleasant feelings, already knowing how you will rebuke and reprimand him again. There's no convincing to be done, as you won't change your opinion. You left him no choice for what he was going to do.

"Alright, you answered all my questions", he said before changing topic again:"Did painkillers start working? I have another".

Being so engrossed in the conversation you forgot about the ache, yet once he mentioned it your body started to hurt with a renewed strength.

"Yes, I would like one", you decided and Diluc vanished in the unlit hall yet again.

"Here", he handed the small bottle to you already opened. The new substance was different, sweet and viscous. You managed to take two sips before your eyelids started to feel up with lead, and soon even lifting a hand seemed like a highly arduous task. Whatever the thing that Diluc gave you wasn't a painkiller.

"What…", you uttered, before your body relaxed and you fell asleep once again. Diluc bent over, looming over your unconscious form, as his hands carefully took the bottle away. He didn’t want it to somehow fall and injure you

This is a necessary measure, Diluc assured himself, before making a plan of actions. He would need to fake your disappearance and forge enough leads to direct investigation into the completely opposite direction, but now he needed to wake Adelinde up and ask her to prepare the room in the basement. He didn't want you to be uncomfortable in your new home.

[jimlingss]

Moirai [3]

Chapter 2 - Chapter 3 - Chapter 4

➜ Words: 4.8k

➜ Genres: 60% Fluff, 40% Angst, Isekai!AU

➜ Summary: Death is supposed to be the end. Or at least that's what you assumed when you're hit by a TRUCK. But the moment you open your eyes again, instead of being sent to the afterlife, you've become a baby. And not just any baby. You're the female villain of a video game.

You’re ten years old when you finally get to go to the Solar Festival.   “Come right up and challenge this brute to an arm wrestle!”   “Get your candy! Fresh candy from the west right here!”   It’s the first time you’re not deathly ill and practically on your deathbed, a secret which has been kept deep in the Devereux house. God forbid, their only heir is found to be weak. It could be detrimental to the whole aristocratic balance.   But frankly, you’re surprised you’re even alive.   While Anastasia’s death occurs shortly after she turns eighteen, the impending doom never stops weighing on your mind. You just count your blessings as each year passes.   You’re ecstatic to finally be able to go to the Solar Festival too. But you can’t believe it’s with Prince Jungkook and his bratty ass.   A year ago, you were horrified to find out you were engaged to him. It came out of nowhere, an announcement in the morning that nearly had you choking on your breakfast. You don’t know how your father managed to pull such strings, but you’re not entirely surprised. It was part of the original storyline after all.   Luckily, little has changed. It’s an arrangement only in name and was the gossip of tea parties for just a week. Jungkook is still largely uninterested in you. If anything, he still seems scared of you for that stunt you pulled when you first met. But you’re going to keep it that way.    If you can’t win him over with overbearing kindness, then fear works.   “Hey, you.” The Prince taps you on your shoulder and you realize he’s talking to you. He didn’t even refer you to your name. The damn brat. Jungkook points off to a stand and then grins. “Think you can win a prize?”   It’s a booth with three different targets two meters away and slingshots. A simple game with pretty good prizes.   You muse the game developers used a lot of modern inspirations in creating this world. The Solar Festival isn’t far off from markets and carnivals from the twenty-first century.   Jungkook smiles lazily and lolls his head at you. “Here, let me show you how it’s done.”   You scoff as he saunters off. For being only ten years old, he sure is cocky for his age.   The Prince flicks a golden coin at the vendor who bows at him and he grabs the slingshot and ball. His left eye closes and the tip of his tongue sticks out as he aims. Jungkook releases after a moment and the ball hits the second ring of the target.   “Amazing job, Your Highness,” the commoner stutters out while bowing again.   Jungkook pays no mind to him, but he turns his head towards you and smirks. “See?”   Your brow twitches and you step up to the booth. You grab the slingshot out of his hand, take a ball and within two seconds, you fire.    Bullseye.   It’s your turn to shift and smirk at the Prince. Pft. A game like this is easy peasy. C’mon, you used to play at arcades and amusement parks where all their games were professionally rigged.   “C-Congratulations!” The vendor hands you a massive brown bear that nearly overcomes you in size.   Jungkook’s jaw has dropped.   “Would you like the prize, Your Highness?”   He points at you. “You cheated!”   “Excuse me?!”   “Cheater!”   Jungkook stomps away and you’re left following after him while glaring into his backside.    The two of you are accompanied by two knights trailing after you. It’s more intimate than being surrounded in a room full of adults and dressed in extravagant attire. You suppose going to the Solar Festival together with the Prince, aka. your fiancé, is supposed to give off the impression that you’re actually close to him and that this isn’t just a shallow engagement.    The actual truth emerges as you’re busy studying the sign of a food booth. You’re perplexed that they have corn dogs here, or whatever they call it in Ashea, and as you turn around, Jungkook and the guards are gone.   Are you fucking kidding me? Did he actually leave you behind?!   You start wandering, scanning the heads around, looking past hordes of strangers, darting between their legs, dodging bodies. But the crowd is thick and before you’re swept up completely, you flounder out of the mass to the perimeters of the Solar Festival. It’s emptier there, only couples searching for an intimate space and stragglers who want a breath of air.    But by sheer coincidence and coincidence only, a familiar boy comes into your sight.   What the hell is he doing here?   You step back in surprise and cover your face with your massive plush bear. It's only when you peek out that your eyes permanently set onto Taehyung. He’s dressed in a black cloak, but the brown strands of his hair are too distinct. He’s taller than when you last remembered, growing into his skin as well. His cheeks are less rounded than before, eyes becoming sharper.   He doesn’t notice you, at least not yet. He’s too busy taking in the Solar Festival, gawking at the crowds, the twinkling lights and glowing lanterns. He stands at a distance, seemingly overwhelmed.   It feels like you’ve accidentally stumbled into a scene you’re not a part of.   It’s then that you remember there was a flashback in the game. Jungkook invited him to go out, but he couldn’t until he gave into the temptation and snuck outside the castle walls himself. This marks the first time Taehyung left the palace since his mother’s passing three years ago. He’s been trapped inside as the embodiment of the royal family’s shame since.   In the game, you remember he wanted food but didn’t have a single coin to his name.   But that’s not your problem.   You’re not supposed to be here anyway. So, you turn and walk away………………..   “Do you want a corn dog?”    Yet, somehow, you find yourself shown up in front of him regardless, arm extended with the stick of deep fried batter. Taehyung’s caught off guard, eyes wide but you’ve already diverted your vision, staring off at the side with an unknowing pout.    You can’t keep running away. You don’t want to.    The last time you did, Taehyung’s mother suffered the consequences of your inaction.   “I don’t know what they call it here in Ashea, but it’s a corn dog to me.”   The pair of you end up sitting together on a bench on the outskirts of the festival. The enormous teddy bear you won sits upright to your left as Taehyung is on your right. You’d be shrouded in darkness if not for the dim luminescence of the strung lights at the distance.    You bite into the hot corn dog, listening to the crunch and Taehyung’s chewing beside you.   He doesn’t say much, so you focus on gobbling up the oily treat.    Truth be told, you feel pity for Taehyung. Guilty. In a lot of ways, the two of you are similar. Outcasted. Isolated. The game developers are real assholes for creating this kind of backstory for the main antagonists while all the protagonists do is fall in love.    Once you’re done eating, you wipe your hands onto your navy pea coat.    The maids can clean it later.   “This is actually the first time I’ve been to the Solar Festival,” you pipe up, swinging your legs on the edge of the bench.   He looks at you, chewing in his cheek. “It’s mine too.”   You figured.   Suddenly, a surge of motivation washes over you.    Alright! You got some money on you. You can blow your entire allowance today and make it the best day ever for Taehyung!   You twist yourself to him with conviction set in your eyes. He’s startled and leans back. “Is there anything you want to do here then?!”   The corner of his mouth tugs. “Not really.”   You deflate. “Oh.”   It simmers down into quietness again, the bustle filling the spaces in between. Taehyung looks straight ahead yet you still catch his timid voice. “I never thought I’d see you again.”   It sinks in after a delayed second and you turn to him slowly. “You remember me?”   It was less than five minutes. Three years ago. A brief encounter at his mother’s burial.   “Why would I forget?” Taehyung smiles softly to himself. “So I’m just happy sitting here beside you.”   In hindsight, he probably wouldn’t have followed you or eaten beside you compliantly if you were a complete stranger to him. But to hear him say that aloud, you feel even sadder. You’re probably the closest thing he has to a friend right now.   You become silent, the knowledge of his future and yours heavy upon your shoulders.   “Revenge isn’t as great as you think it is,” you mutter.   The ten-year old boy frowns. “Pardon?”   You shake your head. “Never mind.”    What’s the point? It’s not like you could say anything to make it better. You know he’s dead set on it, on avenging his mother’s murder and you can’t even blame him for being so angry. For being so fixated. So lonely.   He’s hidden in the castle’s shadows — the only person who cared for him is gone.   You recall from the wikipage on the characters that it’s around this time Taehyung starts dabbling in magic by himself. He ends up becoming one of the greatest magicians in the empire, but obviously winds up using it for bad.   You eagerly twist yourself towards the boy, nearly nose to nose with him. “Don’t learn magic!”   “What?” Taehyung’s frowning, unable to understand where your random demand came from.   You lean closer to him. “Magicians aren’t that great and magic can blow up in your face. Literally.”   A beat later, your eyes stray off of Taehyung’s eyes to three figures in the distance. Jungkook is spinning in every direction, lugging his legs, expression tired and begrudging. The two knights are also looking around and you realize they’re searching for you.   “I have to go.” You hop onto your feet and grab your brown bear. “Bye!”   “Wait!” Taehyung whips himself around, but by then, you’ve already run off. His hand slips into the cloak’s pocket and he looks down at the pink handkerchief in hand with a small sigh.    You feel bad about leaving him behind, but you hope he enjoys the festival even if it’s just a little.

The room is small, dark and dank. With only a single bed in a wooden frame and a wardrobe, he often sits facing the window, looking up at the azure sky and the cotton clouds that are drifting past.   “Your Highness.”   A maid knocks at the door and he turns, sliding off the bed to follow after her quietly without question.   The only time he’s allowed to leave his bedroom is to the study. ‘Even if he’s a bastard child, no son of the King can be uneducated’ is what they said.   “You got two wrong on your examination.” The tutor flips over the parchments. “I’m surprised you managed to memorize up to the fifth volume of the Kalisis scriptures and the fundamental theory of Mahhild, but we’ll have to review Ashea’s sacred Imperial Language.”   Taehyung nods. “I’m sorry.”   “Do better next time.”   Silence settles as the older man puts aside the parchment and goes to pull books from the nearby shelves. In the meanwhile, Taehyung’s eyes stray outside the window to the wispy clouds, keeping still in his seat. He doesn’t ask many questions. He simply learns what is given to him and apologizes when he fails. But his mind strays to a girl in a navy pea coat, someone with a soft expression, who somehow always appears in front of him when he needs it most. And he can’t help his curiosity—   “Sir.” At the sound of his voice, the tutor turns around. “Do you...happen to know anyone by the name of Anastasia?”   The older man’s brow quirks. “You mean the Crown Prince’s fiancée, Anastasia Loretta Devereux?”   Taehyung’s caught off guard. “Fiancée?”   “Why do you ask?”   “N-No reason. I just heard of the name somewhere.” He looks away and the man finishes grabbing the textbooks, dropping them down on the surface in front of him. Taehyung’s fist is crumpled in his lap, quiet.    He didn’t know you were Jungkook’s fiancée. He didn’t know you were from the Devereux house either. Even he’s heard of that name before — the Duke’s house is an influential one.   Taehyung doesn’t know anything about you. He realizes it now.   But that doesn’t mean his desire has dwindled away. He still wants to see you again.   “Is it...possible to travel to another estate, but not by carriage?”   “Not by carriage?” The tutor pushes up his spectacles, puzzled by the inquiry that has come out of nowhere. “There’s horse, boat, ship, teleportation, but of course, you’re not allowed to use magic. Is there somewhere you would like to go?”   He quickly shakes his head.    They would never let him leave.   But he’s tired of waiting for the next encounter, for the next coincidence.   That night, Taehyung cracks open the door of his room. The hallway is swallowed in darkness with only a tiny sliver of the moon’s luminescence that will wane away tomorrow. So with his breath hitched and no one in sight, he slips into the shadows. He traces his steps down the corridor, turning the corner, up the small staircase and enters the library next door to the study.    Taehyung cringes as the glass doors creak, but once the gap is large enough, he fits himself through. The bookcases tower up three floors, ceiling high and the walkways between shelves narrow.    He doesn’t know where he should go, so he twists through the endless library and glances at the spines of the books before moving on.   It’s half an hour later that he finds what he’s looking for.    Magic: A Basic Guide for Beginners.   Taehyung reaches up on the tips of his toes and smoothly pulls the spine from its slot. He holds the emerald green cover to his chest and beelines straight out of the library.   He arrives back in his room with little to no trouble and sits on the floor far away from the door. Taehyung’s back leans against the wooden bedpost and he faces the window to allow the silver light to catch onto the cover. He cracks it open a second later and flips through the crisp pages until he finds what he’s looking for.   Teleportation.   A type of transport magic that allows one to travel to different locations without having to traverse the spaces in between. It is accomplished by the user visualizing the desired location and channeling their mana. If successful, the user will disappear from their current location and materialize at their desired location.    Transportation is by far the fastest way to travel between large distances. However, the success in which a user is able to teleport is dependent on skill level, inborn magical abilities and how detailed the location can be visualized.   Taehyung reads each word carefully and flips over the page to see if there are more details.   Once he realizes that’s all to be read, he shuts his eyes.    He doesn’t know where you are. He doesn’t know what the Devereux estate looks like.   But he thinks about you. The girl who handed him that pink handkerchief, the one who appeared in front of him with a stick of food, who sat beside him underneath that tree, on that bench.   Please let me see her again. Please.   Please.   Through sheer willpower, Taehyung suddenly feels a rush in his body as if he’s falling inside a dream. His senses tingle. Then, there’s cold wind pulling against his cheeks and through his hair, the moonlight no longer shining on his eyes.   His lashes flutter as his lid pulls open.   He’s standing in an empty, grassy field. But at the horizon is an illuminated manor.   The corner of his mouth tugs and he takes a step towards it.   But—   “No. No!”   He feels himself being pulled back. A force that prevents him from moving any further. Taehyung’s arm stretches out towards the manor the size of his thumb as if he could grab onto it. But no matter how hard he tries to stay, the next moment he blinks, he’s returned to the small, dark, dank room.   Taehyung’s chest rises and falls.   He was so close.   There’s a quiet knock at the door and he jolts out of his trance. Instantly, he pushes the book underneath the bed.   The door cracks open. Luckily, it isn’t a maid, servant or someone who’s come to punish him. It’s a dark haired boy with doe eyes, his younger brother who’s two inches shorter than he is.    “Taehyung?”   Taehyung stands up. “What are you doing here?”   Jungkook pouts, dressed in oversized, silk pajamas. “I thought we could play.”   “You know the Queen won’t be happy if she sees me with you.”   “I know.” Jungkook’s voice is pitched, brown eyes looking into his. Yet, he’s still hesitant at the doorway. “But no one will know!”   His younger brother is clueless. He has no idea what consequences or punishment means. He’s the Crown Prince. Pampered. Beloved. Everything he wants, he gets. He came here to play without knowing that if anyone saw, Taehyung would be the one punished. Starved. Locked into his room. There’s a reason he’s kept in the cold Western towers and Jungkook is free to roam the South, East and Northern wings. The entire castle is at his feet.   It’s unfair.   It’s so unfair that Taehyung wants to scream. But no one will hear.   They’re the same. Two boys with the same father. A few months apart. Yet one is loved and the other loathed.   Taehyung’s afraid one day he will come to hate Jungkook.   “We still shouldn’t. Go back to bed, Jungkook.”   “I can’t even stay for a minute?” He huffs out, shoulders slumping, dejected. Taehyung pulls the covers and climbs into his bed. After another moment, Jungkook gives up. “Fine. Goodnight.”   The door shuts and Taehyung rolls on his side to look out the window.   He was so close. A few more minutes and it would’ve been enough.   //   Taehyung guesses he has a natural gift for magic. The book says transportation is one of the more difficult spells that needs a lot of practice, but he made it on his first try without even knowing where the estate is.   The place only becomes more vivid in his mind the more times he goes. It becomes easier for him to visualize, easier for him to visit. And he tries with every chance he gets, every moment of his day, every minute spent alone.   Taehyung steals these secret seconds that have become what he looks forward to most. It’s the reason why he wakes up. Each time, he gathers his magic and teleports himself, it’s an opportunity to see you.   This time, it’s in the afternoon after lunch is brought to his room. Taehyung shuts his eyes and tries to imagine the manor with its brown walls, rounded windows, green field, a majestic arcway door.   When he opens his eyes and looks down at his hands materializing, he discovers that he’s at the side of the house, standing next to the wall.   “My lady!”   Taehyung jolts and peeks out from the corner. There’s a maid looking around and shouting with her hands cupped around her mouth. “My lady! Your dance lessons are starting! My lady?!”    His eyes stray upwards and the corner of his mouth tugs when he finds you in a tall tree. You’re wearing a brown dress with a flower bonnet, hidden up in the branches with a mischievous smile as you look down at the dismayed maid who’s completely oblivious.    He stifles back a laugh.   But it withers away when his body starts to fade.   No. No!   When Taehyung blinks again, he’s returned to his room. Back to where he belongs.   He slumps down on his bed in disappointment. He wanted it to last longer. But maybe next time. Next time, he’ll try harder and maybe then…..maybe then, he’ll actually get to talk to you.   //   The next evening, when no one’s around, Taehyung tries once more.   He shuts his eyes and thinks of you, thinks about the land, the house.   And it comes faster to him this time.    He doesn’t have to wait as long before he feels the breeze against his cheeks, the air fresh to his nose. He’s placed at the same spot as yesterday, by the wall near the back. Except neither you nor a maid are outside. In your place is the sun setting over the horizon, the rays casting into his eyes through the tree branches. The sky is painted in shades of a blazing bonfire, amber, ruby, citrine.   But Taehyung’s not here to admire the outside world. He looks down at his hands to make sure he’s materialized and he starts pacing around the perimeter of the manor. He ducks beneath windows when workers or kitchen staff walk by and sneaks along the walls to make sure he’s not caught.   It seems like he won’t be able to find you today.   But then he hears a— “ha!” followed by a metal whistle as something cuts through the air.   Taehyung peeks through the window to see you swinging your sword in the middle of your bedroom. You’re twirling it around, but after a moment, the weapon clanks to the ground and you drop down next to it on your butt.    “God, I’m so tired!”   Taehyung smiles to himself. His fist lifts to knock on the glass.   At the same time, the corner of your eye catches movement. So you turn your head.   But there’s nothing there.   Your brows furrow and you blink hard. But there really is nothing outside your windows. You swore you saw someone.    Maybe you’re just going crazy.    You should probably call quits for tonight and stop practicing.    You don’t know that miles away, Taehyung has appeared back in his room, looking down at his hands stitching into its form, materializing in the small, dark, and dank space. More importantly, he doesn’t see the horrified maid standing at the open doorway until it’s too late.   He’s been caught.   “Where did you go?”    Taehyung’s thrown onto the marble flooring, cheek bruised at the Queen’s feet. She looks down at him, dressed in a luxurious black gown with golden flowers, hair pulled in an updo with silver ornaments. The maid who tattled smirks as she stands on the sidelines. A guard passes the Queen the emerald spell book and she glances at it before tossing it on the ground where he’s been flung.   “And don’t you dare try to deny it.”   Taehyung sharply inhales at his stinging cheek and looks to the open book.   He exhales a silent breath of relief.    They don’t have the handkerchief.   If they did, she would’ve ripped it in front of him and thrown down the shreds. He’s glad he hid it well between his pillowcase.   “I...I just wanted to go outside. I’m sorry.”   “You’re lying.”   Taehyung looks up. “I swear—!”   Before he can inhale, Taehyung’s head is suddenly whipped to his side. The sound of the slap echoes through the lavish chamber and his hand lifts to cup at his numb cheek now printed with the Queen’s diamond rings.    “You lie!” she spits at him, eyes narrowed in.    “You think I was born yesterday?! There’s no reason for you to use magic to go outside. I know what you’re doing. You’re conspiring against me! Against the King. You’re trying to get rid of your brother and take the throne for yourself! Who taught you?! Who were you visiting?! Tell me.”   Taehyung grits his teeth. He turns his head to look back at the woman.   His hands crumple into fists.   “No one.”   Tears flood his vision. All he wanted was to see you.   But he’s weak. He can’t do anything. Much less fulfill his only wish.   “You dare lie to me again?” She scoffs. “Whoever it is, I will find them and I will punish them.”   He can’t protect himself. He couldn’t protect his own mom.   But he can still protect you.   “I said, no one taught me and I was seeing no one.”   She scoffs loudly and points to the maid by the door. “You there! Report to the King what you found out. When you’re done, let everyone know that this bastard is to be confined to his room for the next three months on full watch. Make sure he won’t be able to leave no matter what.”   “Yes, Your Majesty.”   The Queen stands, height looming over the ten-year old boy. She looks him dead in the eye, lips curling into a snarl. “Don’t think this is the end of it. I won’t let you run around and do as you wish like your whorish mother did. You can deny it for all you want. You won’t eat until you speak.”   “Take him away!” she shouts at the guards and they grab the back of his collar, dragging him upwards and out. Taehyung doesn’t scream, he doesn’t cry. His eyes dim as he looks at the woman until the gap of the door shuts in his face.    He won’t see you anymore. Not until he becomes strong enough.   Inside the room, the Queen collapses back onto her sofa. She sighs heavily and rubs her throbbing temples between her fingertips. Her personal attendant comes to her side and bows. “Is there anything I can do for you, Your Majesty?”   “It’s suffocating being here,” she mutters and drops her hand. “Hmm, maybe I’ll take the trip down to the Summer Palace in Florendale early this year.”   The maid dips her head. “I will make the preparations then.”

Edith swiftly enters the room one morning, drawing the curtains roughly and shedding the blinding sunlight into your still-sleepy eyes. You wince and pull the covers over your head, but she rips them off of you unceremoniously.   What the hell. Seriously?!   “It’s time to get ready.”   “Why?” you groan, peeling one eye open and pressing your cheek to your pillow.   Edith doesn’t stop moving. She opens the doors to your wardrobe and starts picking through the racks of dresses. “The Queen is on her deathbed with the incurable plague. The Duke and Duchess will be leaving for the castle immediately within ten minutes. You must go with them to fulfill your duties as the heir of the Devereux house.”   It takes a delayed moment for the information to sink into your foggy mind.   But then, you’re bolting upright with wide eyes. “Wait. What?!”    You’re horrified.    This isn’t part of the original game. The Queen is supposed to be alive and well even past your supposed execution date!   But there’s no time to dwell when your face is washed and you’re dressed in a black gown, barely enough time to brush your hair. You’re rushed into the carriage and the coachman rides at a hasty speed. Your mother, in the meanwhile, lectures you to stay quiet and solemn.   Your entire family soon arrives at the familiar castle and you’re guided to the main hall.   Jungkook is sobbing in the corner, being comforted by a swarm of attendants. You’re at a loss, looking around, trying to grasp what’s going on. There’s no sight of Taehyung whatsoever.   Your father, carrying the high status of the Duke, manages to visit the King and the Queen in their personal chambers. You’re brought along behind your mother, staying silent as she had instructed you to do. Your parents offer their condolences, but when you peek out behind her and past the royal healers, blood drains from your face.   The Queen is pale. Barely breathing in her bed. Cysts and welts bubble on her wrinkled skin.   Even you know she’s not going to recover. But how? How did this happen?!   The respects your parents give doesn’t last long. You’re soon being brought into the main hall again in favour of delegates from the smaller Eastern empire giving their condolences. But on your way, you catch the murmurs of the maids.   “—plague in Florendale.”   “How awful! If only Her Majesty went in the Autumn season as she usually does. I don’t know why she chose to go earlier this year.”   “It was truly the wrong place at the wrong time.” — “A tragedy!” — “Why is Her Majesty’s fate so unfortunate?”   You can barely stitch together the pieces of what happened and all the gaps in between are full of more questions. Why these changes are happening. Why the original game is changing so much.   What this means.   A feeling of uncertainty swells inside of you.

[nthrr]

A Second Chance

Summary: 'Who are you?' He wanted to know, know every single thing about her, things that one shouldn't want to know about a person who holds a gun on them. A second chance at love for the ones that were robbed of it.

It had been days since he had had a good nights sleep free from dreams. He didn't know why but since his childhood he had dreams that had followed the same theme. A world full of fantasy, honour and war. In his childhood those dreams seemed like an entry into the unknown, a world full of wonders and action that a little boy thoroughly enjoyed and embraced. But as he had grown older, had gotten better at understanding the world around himself , the dreams changed, their meanings changed. Cheerful laughter and abundance of love that shone through the dreams changed. The first time he experienced a life leaving its body through his own hands, he was fourteen. Waking up screaming he had thoroughly frightened his parents. Chalking it up to nightmares didn't seem to work in their household because once is a chance, twice is a coincidence but repeatedly for past how many ever years that he had started speaking from, explaining to his parents a world from history books that they attributed to his imagination, that had frightened them. A slew of doctors came and went, medicines consumed but the dreams didn't seem to stop. He stopped taking those medicines when he had accidentally overdosed due to him being delirious with not having slept in three days. It was a great fight with his parents but slowly he had them accept that those medicines were not improving him at all. Turning to yoga and meditation brought him a sense of calm but those dreams, those dreams where he was an royal, the feeling of a sword slicing the air around him, an all encompassing feeling of motherly love and devotion , the feeling of complete content and happiness as if he had found his soulmate, they never left and to tell the truth , he would rather have them along with sleepless nights with nightmares than do without them.

Inspite of all this he had an loving childhood, and a promising career. His family owns the prestigious Mahismathi Industries, a pioneer in the field of technology. Being the only heir apparent of MI , his life and future is set. But the thirst of knowledge and the fire to prove that he deserves the position made him an overachiever in his studies and in the work he started doing for MI. His parents seem to be happy that he is thriving despite his struggles in mental health and that has lead to what is now a big problem for him. Marriage. The thing he totally despises. Don't get him wrong he has no qualms about love, and he had gone on dates and had a few one night stands. But marriage is different. It's a partnership more than anything else. What was he to say to his future wife, that he has recurring dreams and nightmares and that he'll wake up screaming somedays, babble in a strange language on others, sometimes wake up kicking and punching so would you please learn some self defense or sorry we cant sleep in the same bed. Or should he say I'll try to love you but sorry I think I can't because I already love someone, oh it's just someone I dream of regularly, and no she's not real, yes I'm pretty sure, no I would not like an admittance to a mental hospital thanks. He would be really glad when this marriage talk comes to an end.

He prays for this recent bout of sleeplessness to end , he is getting sick of his own growchiness. Hearing his alarm blare out he groans and covers himself with his sheets willing the world to just disappear away. A few minutes later hearing the second alarm go off he huffs before throwing away his sheets and stumbles to the bathroom. He considers calling in sick for a few moments after he sees his reflection in the mirror, he really looks like a zombie, but then he curses himself for his very own good work ethics. Besides the vultures at the company would swoop in at just a peak of a mistake to point and complain. It was getting ridiculous, he was only in a mid management position now, both him and his parents agreeing that he should start low at the food chain, getting an experience at different levels in the company. But some people at the board still try to sabotage him at every turn. The thing was they knew his place at the top is cemented but they still try at every chance they get. He could even appreciate the ones that go about it in a clever way, because they could be useful for him in the long term but those stupid ones, he just doesn't know what to do about them.

Cursing the board members mentally, he got ready and hurried out of his house hoping he won't be late. Just as he was about to start the car his cellphone went off. Seeing that it was his mother calling and wondering she would at this time of the day he answered the call,

'Amma, good morning, why are you calling this early, any problem?' He inquired.

'Amar, good morning my son, did you sleep well'

'Ya ma, got some sleep , what's the matter , is everything ok?' It wasnt like his mother to call him in the early hours of the day. This call was making him a bit worried.

'Yes, good, everything is fine, don't worry and stop being a pessimist '

'Tell that to my mother who calls early in the morning to a son who she's going to see probably in an hour or so' he countered back.

'Stop sassing me, lord knows I get enough of that from your father and stop chuckling, like father like son', He tries vainly to cover his laughs. Like father, as if, he hasn't seen anyone in his life actually verbally spar with his mother and come out unscathed.

'Ok ok sorry, I'm stopping so why did you call' If he doesn't stop his mother now he would still be getting told off an hour from now.

'Oh that, I just wanted to ask you to collect a package from Ragupathy uncle on the way. Its the family heirloom from Andhra that got lost and was got back in an auction, uncle has it and he said he would deliver it personally, but it seems he has an urgent business meeting coming up and wont be able to come by so he asked me to send you by to pick it up'

'Cant you ask someone else ma, I'm getting pretty late, and if it really has to be me I can even pick it up in the evening' he tries.

'Amarnath, didn't I already say your uncle is going away on a business trip , and no I cant send anyone else because it's a family heirloom and it costs twenty two millions. And how many times do I have to say you are the boss of MI and you are allowed to be late sometimes. '

'Cool down cool down, dont get tensed, your blood pressure is already high, I'll go ok, and i really shouldn't be late even when I'm the boss' This was an age old argument in their home and today wasnt the day that it was going to be resolved.

'Really cant change you dear, but that is also why you are the heir to MI and your cousin Balla is not'

'Dont you get started on him now amma, and got to go now if I'm getting your package too along the way '

'Dont grumble too much will you, doesn't suit you'

'Ok amma got to go bye'

'Hmm , drive safely dear , bye'.

Ending the call with his mother , he started the car and turned it towards his uncle's home. Arriving in under twenty minutes, he rushed to the door and rang the bell. The door opened to reveal panja aunty a maid in his uncles home who welcomed him warmly. Asking for his uncle he was directed to the study in the upper floor. Knocking on the door and entering he found his uncle rushing around trying to fit as many things as he could in the bag of his.

'Amarnath, thank you my son for coming so quickly , I really didn't know who to trust with such an important piece of item. Thank God you're here'

'Its no problem uncle, mom said you have an antique piece for her?'he ended it as a question, trying not to let his frustrations show about how late it was getting.

Giving a confirmation his uncle went to the safe in the corner and brought an ornately carved box about the size of a shoe box.

'Take great care of this Amar, this thing does not only contain our family's money but also our history and legacy. Be careful will you?'

'I'll be careful uncle, it's already 7 isn't your flight at 7.30'

'Yes , yes I'll go , dont want to make you late' his uncle finished with a laugh. His entire family knew what a workaholic he was and took great pleasure in teasing him at any given chance.

Seeing his uncle off , he secured the package carefully in the trunk so that it wont jolst too much on the drive and started the car. It was a solid hour travel to his office from his uncle's home and he wanted to shave off whatever minutes he could so he took the smaller streets that wound through the city rather than the highway.

Later he would wish he had paid more attention to the road and to the car that was tailing him rather than speeding. But it had brought him to her and he wouldn't want it any other way.

It was halfway through, on a stretch of road that had sporadically placed houses and rather bare in terms of human activity that it happened. It wasn't that he wasn't paying attention to the road but when he noticed a man laying on the ground with his bike toppled over it was difficult to stop with the way he was speeding. He didn't think he had hit the stranger but it really was too close for his comfort. Berating himself and lamenting the consequences for his momentary lapse in judgement he hurried out of the car to check on the stranger.

It really had been a close call, he observed, if he had been even a second late in applying the breaks , the man would have died and he would have become a murderer. Walking over to the man on the ground he saw no evidence of bleeding , which was good. Crouching down , he laid his fingers to the man's neck to check for his pulse. Noticing that he had a good , strong pulse, he started to try to wake the man. With no amount of him trying getting any results, he decided to call the ambulance.

As concerned with the stranger as he was, he hadn't heard the scuffles coming from behind his car. But a strange loud thud from the near vicinity of his car startled him from his position. More wary now than he had been before , he tried to get up and check what the noise had been about. But before he could even stand fully, he was grabbed by the ankles and pushed to the ground. With his winds knocked out and reasonably confused he saw the man on the ground get up grinning. With a dawning sense of realisation coming upon him he turned his attention to the car to see four men with clothes tied over their faces trying to force open the trunk. He realised It had been a ploy to get him off the car.

It took him longer than he would be willing to admit, to get sense of the situation. Three by the car, forcefully trying to open the trunk, and an another who had tricked him, who now that he focused was swinging his leg back to deliver a kick. The kick landed hard on his abdomen knocking his breath out. Pain for many would cloud their senses but for him it sharpend them. When the next kick contacted with his abdomen he held on to the leg and pulled. Bringing down his assailant he crouched on the top of him and delivered a swift punch to his face. With the following two more the man was knocked out cold. Suddenly hands grappled on the back of his shirt pulling him away from the man. Allowing his weight to freefall on the assailant he got away from the hold and faced his three opponents. Breathing in and out and centering his mind he got into a battle stance.

In his childhood while other children opted for sports or games Amar was always fascinated by martial arts. After much cajoling to his parents he joined them, and never looked back. Fighting came easy to him, he raised through the ranks and joined even more different types of martial arts classes. It gave him peace and happiness that couldn't be found in his life plenty. So this situation of him facing three goons that seemed to be amateurs at best did not panic him as it would any other. They came at him from all sides, trying to overpower him , but he side steps and fights. The fight finishes in mere minutes. Panting heavily he carefully notes what he could about these thugs. From the way they way laid him and opened his car without any power tools he could tell they were well accomplished thieves, but their fighting left a lot to be desired. They weren't fighters , just thieves, good ones but just thieves .

A sudden feeling of a cold hardness pressed against his skull brought him up from his thoughts. With the realisation dawning on him he scolded himself for not checking up on the other thug he knocked out at the start. The gun pressed against him trembled making him more nervous that that idiot would shoot him without even meaning to. Seeing that he had not been shot at already he tried talking to the man who had his life in his hands. 'Listen buddy, there's no need for weapons here. Lower your gun and I'll let you guys go without even letting the police involved. But if you shoot and then got caught it would be life sentence for you. Your whole life would be behing the bars. Think that through. Put your gun away and I'll let you take your guys away. '

The gun pressing even harder against his head made him stop . The hand that was trembling till now steadied. The gun pressed firmly against the back of his head steadied. The click of the guns safety rang across the empty road sounding to him as if it was the conch sounding at his funeral. The safety had been on before , he could have tried to escape but there was no use lamenting about things that could have been. He knew in a few moments he would be no more. As many say, his whole life did not flash before his eyes , but his dreams did. Times he was happy and content in his dreams came to the forefront of his mind. He could totally ignore the gun behind him and he could go out with thoughts that made him smile. More than the fear of death , the wait for when the bullet will tear through him was what scared him. In the silence that made even death noisy , he heard the creak of the trigger being pressed. Then the shot rang through.

The pain he expected was not there, nor was the feeling of either heaven or hell. Slowly opening his eyes which he seemed to have closed , he turned around to see what the hell had happened. There on the ground laid the man who had held a gun to his head , with a bleeding shoulder. The gun laid on the ground and was now being picked up. Following the hand he saw the other held a gun too which seemed to be the source of the shot that he heard. Moving his eyes upwards he stopped short. Because there with guns in her hands, in a plain shirt and pants was the girl he was intimately familiar with. Eyes sharp as razors, beautiful red lips turned into a scowl, a face that shone even when it screamed murderous intent, she was there, every inch a perfect copy of the dreams that he had.

'Deva' his mind whispered, 'Deva'.

He wanted to pinch himself awake but he knew that this was real because even in his dreams he could never get the magnetism that shone off her eyes right, that was being directed at him. He didn't even mind the gun that was now pointed at him, again.

'Who are you , what the hell happend here ' she asked with a voice filled with authority. He found himself smiling hearing her voice. It was just as enchanting as he had always imagined it to be. 'What are you smiling for' she asked again with more force now. His smile had infuriated her.

'Who are you?' He wanted to know, know every single thing about her, things that one shouldn't want to know about a person who holds a gun on them.

'Devika Rajendran , deputy inspector of police , now give me your name or be ready to be dragged off to jail' she stated with a raised eyebrow and a relaxed stance. The confidence that she carried with her, it sent shivers down his spine making him want to needle her so much more, so that he could watch the way she got wound up and let go.

''Amarnath Chandran, software engineer at Mahismathi Industries ' he replied , holding back his true position at MI. He wanted her to look at him as if he was just any other normal guy, not the heir to a multibillion dollar company. It was experience that had him introducing himself as an IT guy rather than his true self. But looking at her he somehow doubted that she would bend down or simper at him. And it was that which made her even more attractive in his eyes.

'Well Mister Amarnath' he cut her off before she could finish the sentence,' its Amar, call me Amar'

If possible she looked even more less impressed by that statement. 'Mister Amarnath, I have to ask you , why was this guy pointing a gun at you' a hint of coldness seeped into her tone.

'I have no idea who these people are , they hijacked my car and tried to steal the antique that i had in my trunk, and trust me no way am i involved in any shady business Devika' and seeing the expression on her face become frostier he hastily added 'Maam, Devika Maam'.

'Cut off the name calling and show me your ID' she neared him and held out her hands.

He didn't know what was going through his mind. It probably was "she's here, she's real" and not "let's go to jail today". His response should have been "sure, let me get it from my car" and not what he said.

'I dont have it on my person at this moment but I could bring it to you by noon today. Your office is at the city headquarters isn't it'

If it had been him at her place , he probably would have done worse than slap the cuffs on his had and dump him in the back of the police jeep with the other thugs. He didn't care much for it, but at least the view was nice, or the back of her that he could see.

It took his mother half an hour to get the news and come to the station with a lawyer to get him out, the time which he spent most enjoyably watching her in her true environment. He seemed to infuriate her, smiling wider every time she managed to catch his look and glare at him. It was good that his mother came when she did or he didn't know what she would have done to him. But as soon as his mother came her entire ire transferred to his mother. Watching both the woman verbally battle he was glad that he wasnt caught in between but he would gladly accept that and more if only she could be in his life. They were two strong women who didn't want to give each other an inch of leeway. Finally Devika stomped towards the holding cell and opened the door with such a force that nobody could mistake her anger for anything else.

But before she could leave he grabbed her wrists making her turn towards him with such an anger in her face. It made him want to go to her and pull her in a tight hug and never let her leave. But he had an apology to deliver. Letting her go he lifted his hands up in an apology.

'I'm sorry I touched you without your permission, I just wanted your attention for a second. I'm sorry that I deceived you, it's my fault. The reason for it is simple. I didn't want to be away from your company just yet. You captivate me Devika, from your confidence to your inner strength that shows just as bright as your beauty, I wanted to spend more time with you. Your strength is beautiful, you are beautiful. Will you please accept my apology as a dinner tonight. Just an apology dinner, nothing else and if you never want to see me again you dont have to'.

Seeing the anger fade away from her face, and a confused look entering in, he smiled.

'Don't need to give me an answer now, tonight 7 PM at Jonas restaurant at the city centre, I'll be waiting, and if you dont show up I'll understand ' leaving the cell he started to walk out of the room and fortunately for him his mother seemed to have left already. Stopping midway he turned back to see her still standing in the same position. 'I don't know what you will decide tonight Devika, but either way have a good life officer'. He turned back and strode out of the room, whatever tonight may bring he was content in a way that he had never been. She may never come looking for him, but knowing that she was real, and that she lived a happy life somewhere was enough for him.

A smirk tugged at his lips, he definitely did notice the blush that stained her cheeks when she was with him.

Thank you @carminavulcana and @mayavanavihariniharini for welcoming me into this wonderful fandom.

Ao3 link

[whorderofthepheonix]

Sacredly Scarred: Chapter 20 || Erik Killmonger

A/N: *sighs* may or may not be the last chapter. idk. depends on y'all. Enjoy tho. 200+ if you want the next part (and if it takes forever, Imma take forever to post ch.21 lmfaoooo) PLEASE REBLOG INSTEAD OF COMMENT xx

Words: 2k

Warnings: Swearing, Mild Violence, Vomit Warning, Lil Itty Bitty Angst, Cliff Hanger af

Erik’s POV

I pounded on the apartment door, eager for someone to answer.

“Erik, relax,” Yenai gasped. “You seem... Impatient.”

“Sorry, I just... Really want tea,” I mumbled. The door swung open and I was ready to pounce.

“Yenai! Erik!” 1 greeted. She looked fine... Like no sign of any injury or anything. Just an oversized yellow sweater and some leggings. “We weren’t expecting you.”

“Sorry to just barge in like this but Erik really wanted to join us for tea,” Yenai apologized, “and he insisted we come now.”

“Well tea’s not till 4,” she looked down at her watch. “But by all means, come in and join us for brunch! We’re out on the balcony.”

“Glady,” I pushed past them and onto the balcony. The other twin was out there, nibbling  lightly on a piece of toast. She wore an identical outfit to her sister, but with a blue sweater.

“Hi Erik!” She greeted. Yenai and 1 came in soon after. “Yenai too? Are you guys joining us for brunch?”

“Yup,” I said sitting across from her.

“Splendid!” 2 clapped. “Dorota! We need 2 more plates out here please!”

“So, Yenai, I’m sorry I couldn’t talk yesterday,” 1 frowned. “We were at the Marc Jacobs fashion show. They usually confiscate phones but I snuck mine in.”

“Well, it was a good thing you were dealing with fashion because I’m working with Vogue!” Yenai squealed. The twins gasped.

“No!” 2 gasped.

“OMG how?” 1 asked.

“Remember that dress I made with the tribal prints?” They nodded. “Well they saw it and loved it and now they want to add it to the Fall collection!” The 3 of them screamed and held hands.

“Congratulations!” 2 grinned.

“Yeah, we’re totes happy for you!” 1 added.

“Thanks guys!” Yenai laughed as the maid placed plates of bagels and lox in front of us. The moment Yenai saw it, she gulped. “Um... Is this raw?”

“Smoked,” 2 declared. “But very, very lightly. I hate when it’s not chewy.” Yenai started heaving.

“You good baby?” I whispered.

“Um, yeah... It’s just the smell,” she gagged. “And the look... and... I’m just gonna use the restro-” She covered her mouth and ran back into the house.

“Is she okay?” 2 asked.

“Yeah, she just has really bad food poisoning,” I said folding my arms. “So Marc Jacobs, huh? What was that like?”

“Like all the rest,” 1 rolled her eyes. “Been to one, been to them all.” I looked behind me to make sure Yenai wasn’t in ear shot.

“Does Yenai know?” I asked. They looked at each other confused.

“Know what...? About the fashion show? We just told her,” 2 raised an eyebrow.

“Cut the shit!” I hissed. “You know damn well you weren’t at no fuckin’ fashion show last night!” 1 took out her phone and opened her snapchat.

“Look from 7:30 PM until 11:29 PM we were at the fashion show then we went to the after party,” she said. “Am I missing something?”

“Now, I’m confused...” 2 frowned. “Where did you think we were?” Maybe I got it wrong... Maybe it was just a coincidence... But I was sure it was them... I sat back in my chair and look a bite of my bagel.

“Forget it,” I sighed.

“Hey, I LOVE your watch!” 1 gasped. “Rolex Chronograph right? Our dad has the exact same one!”

“Yeah, he’s been collecting since before we were born!” 2 added. “Come, we’ll show you!” They both got up and I followed them through their bedroom and into one of the closest. A giant wall full of watches was right above a smaller case with more watches.

“There are 320,” 1 spoke. “We only take them out to wear as good luck or on Sundays to have Dorota clean them.”

“It is Sunday,” I pointed out.

“Oh fuck! It is!” 2 groaned. “I’ll get Dorota.”

“I’ll go check on Yenai,” 1 said. Then they both left the closet. I looked carefully at each watch. Ther were all accounted for. Well there goes that theory... I looked around the closer which was filled top to bottom with expensive jewelry and clothes. Just as I was about leave, one of the watches in the case caught my eye. I opened the case and picked it up. It looked almost identical to mine, it just had lower case letters instead of uppercase, like most Rolex’s do... I heard footsteps so I scurried to put back the watch, causing me to fumble and drop it on the floor. I bent down to pick it up from under the case, accidentally grabbing something else instead. A brown paper bag. I slowly opened it pulling out a bloodstained shirt and a clown mask. That’s when I heard a clicking sound from behind me and someone clearing their throat. I sighed and raised my hands in surrender, getting up and facing the door. 1 had a rifle pointed to me while 2 had her arms folded across her chest.

“Pardon me sir,” 1 smirked. “You have something that belongs to us. I’d like it back.”

“I fucking knew it,” I laughed. “So you two are the little fuckers who’ve been fucking with my assignments.”

“We haven’t been messing with anything,” 2 pointed out. “We get calls and we go. The same as you.”

“So I’m just supposed to believe that you two, fucking pris and perfect, are assassins?” I laughed.

“You’re damn right!” 1 snapped. “Now give me the fucking watch!” “Fuck no! You gave this to me and I didn’t kill ya ass!”

“You shot my sister!” 1 yelled.

“Twice!” 2 growled. “In the same spot!” “Well, I was letting you go and you threw a knife at me,” I shrugged.

“Enough fucking talking!” 1 hissed. “Hand over the watch. It was my dad’s favorite.”

“Hmm... No. Fuck you,” I dropped my hands.

“I mean it!” She shouted. “Or I’ll-”

“You’ll what?” I walked over to her. “Aside from killin’ niggas I also deal in weapons. You don’t think I know a paintball gun over an actual rifle?” She sucked her teeth and dropped it.

“Fine, whatever. I had to leave our weapons at the warehouse last night to get Ayana to the hospital,” she rolled her eyes. “Just... Please give me back the watch,” she begged. “Despite all the watches on the wall, that was the only one that belong to our dad...”

“Aight, I’ll give you back the watch, under one condition,” I smirked.

“Nigga, we are not having sex with you,” 2 crossed her arms.

“If it means getting the watch back, yes the fuck we are!” 1 glared at her.

“What the fuck? No! That’s not- Never mind,” I groaned. “I’ll give you back the watch if you agree to cut off whatever nigga you workin’ wit and work for me.”

“What?” They asked together.

“You serious?” 1 asked.

“Fuck yeah, I’m serious,” I nodded. “Y’all can fight. Plus we can use y’all for baiting niggas out.”

“He’s actually serious,” 2 gasped.

“How much money you make in a week?”

“I don’t know... 200 maybe 300 grand on a good week,” 1 shrugged.

“I once made 2 mil in one night,” I told them.

“Holy fuck!” 2 exclaimed. “2 million fucking dollars? Alyssa, do we even have to pretend to think about this?”

“Hell no!” 1 laughed extended he hand. “It’s a fucking deal!” I shook her hand and took the watch off my wrist giving it to her.

“We’re in business then,” I smirked. Then Yenai walked in, looking confused and scared.

“Um... What’s going on here?” She asked, warily.

“Nothing,” the three of us said in unison.

“Yeah, okay. I’ll pretend to believe that,” she rolled her eyes. “Girls I’m sorry, but I have really bad food poisoning and I can’t keep anything down. Erik can we go back upstairs?”

“Sure thing, baby girl,” I walked over and kiss her head. “Let’s go.”

***

I’ve had a weird feeling about Yenai since the day we had brunch with the twins. And it wasn’t just from her being sick. Like now, it was day 3 and she was STILL throwing up! She had to call in sick from work, which her boss eagerly gave her. Yenai guessed that she was still embarrassed from dinner the other night. That was the last real conversation me and Yenai had... THREE DAYS AGO! Everything else was all responses and simple questions. And when they weren’t responses or questions, they were bitchy remarks or constant nagging. I came from meeting with the Twins, whose names are apparently Ayana and Alyssa, and walked into the house.

“Baby, you home?” I called out. She walked out of the bathroom.

“Where else would I be, Erik?” She rolled her eyes. I bit the inside of my cheek to stop myself from replying rudely.

“The twins made you soup,” I offered putting the bowl on the counter. “They said it helps nausea.”

“You were down there again?” She scoffed. “You’ve literally been down to see them everyday since brunch!”

“Is that a problem?” I asked, folding my arms.

“If you previously hadn’t tried to fuck them then no, it wouldn’t be,” she snapped, taking the bowl of soup and throwing it in the trash.

“Yo, the FUCK is ya problem, Yenai?” I shouted as she retreated to the bedroom. I followed her and closed the door.

“My problem Erik, is that instead of staying here and making sure that I’M okay, you’re off galavanting with MY friends!” She shouted back.

“Well maybe I’d want to be around her more if you weren’t being such a bitch to me all the fuckin’ time!”

“Oh word?! I’m a bitch now? Riiiigggghhhhttttt! Copy!” She stormed into the closet and started grabbing her clothes off the hangers. I took a deep breath and leaned against the closet door.

“What are you doing?” I groaned.

“Since I’m such a fuckin’ bitch, there’s no use in me staying, right?” She shrugged, opening a duffle bag and stuffing the clothes in.

“So first of all, ya ass don’t got a place to go, so let’s cut that shit out aight?” I took the duffle from her. “Secondly, you gon just pack a bag and leave every time we get into an argument? You gon be doin’ a lot of packin’ and unpackin’ ma, I’ll tell you that.”

“Fuck you,” she spat pushing past me, going back into the bedroom. I grabbed her wrist. “Get the fuck off me.”

“Nah, you not goin’ nowhere till we deal with this shit, Yenai. I’m not bouta keep quiet everytime you snap at me or yell wit ya stank ass attitude. We gon sit down and talk like fuckin’ adults.”

“I have nothing to say-”

“The fuck you don’t!” I snorted. “You got allat mouth when I try to help you and now you got nothin’ to say. Nah.” I wrapped my arms around her. “Tell me what’s on ya mind, baby girl.”

“Get off me,” she whispered, her voice cracking.

“No. Talk to me,” I insisted. She looked at me with tears in her eyes. “DId I do something wrong?”

“No,” she sniffled, letting tears fall. “You didn’t... I’m sorry I’ve been such a bitch...”

“It’s aight... I’m not bouta force you to tell me what’s wrong, but we can’t keep goin’ like this, Yenai...” I sighed. “When you ready, you gon tell me right?” She shut her eyes and shook her head.

“I can’t! I can’t tell you!” She cried. “I’m scared...”

“Why can’t you tell me? What’s scaring you?” I asked cautiously. She kept shaking her head, sobbing.

“I can’t...”

“Yes, you can.”

“No, I can’t! I can’t! I can’t! I can’t!”

“Yenai-”

“No, Erik! Just stop! Please!”

“Baby, please talk to me-”

“Erik!’ “Why are you so scared?!”

“BECAUSE I THINK I’M PREGNANT, OKAY?!” She screamed. I heart stopped and my blood turned cold. “...I think I’m pregnant and I’m scared...” She whispered. “I’m so fucking scared...”

~~~

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[endlessly-searching-for-you]

The Red Wedding, Part 2 (TJ/VoS crossover)

Summary: Nathan invites Emily to be his date at the fateful Sterling wedding. Is she going to help… or make it even worse?

Word Count: ~1,500

Rating: PG/R? (language, drinking, mentions of violence)

Author’s Notes: Oh, Emily, Emily! What a mess you’re in ;)

Tagging @darley1101, @josieschoices, @blackcatkita, @indiacater, @boneandfur, @laniquelove, @lizeboredom, @jlouise88, @mrsdrakewalkerblog

Please let me know if you want to be tagged, or wish to be removed from the tag list :)

Part 1

The mansion was packed. Emily scanned the swarm of guests, hoping to see Nathan's tall figure, but he was nowhere in sight. She pushed her way through the crowd like an icebreaker through the frozen sea, accidentally elbowing an elegant older lady in a purple dress. "I'm sorry, ma'am! That was an accident!" The lady shot her an icy glare and turned around, clicking her heels and murmuring something about young people these days. Emily rolled her eyes and bumped into someone again. She looked up to see a beautiful, young redhead who grabbed her arm, preventing Emily from falling. "Ugh, sorry. I should watch where I'm going. This house is so packed..." The redheaded woman smiled at her. "It's me who should be sorry." She extended her hand. "I'm Kate, and this whole party is all my fault." Emily stared at her blankly, when a realization dawned on her. "Oh... you must be the bride? Congratulations!" Kate touched her wide bracelet and Emily could swear she saw terror in her eyes, but when she blinked, it was already gone. Kate was still standing before her, her smile wide and inviting. Emily shrugged the feeling off, thinking it was just a product of her imagination. What should a beautiful girl about to marry into a rich family be afraid of, anyway? She snapped herself out of her stupor and smiled back. "I'm Emily. Nice to meet you." Kate shook her hand and turned to greet another guest. "There you are." Nathan's strong arm wrapped around her waist and he steered her gently out of the room. "The rehearsal dinner starts in half an hour. I thought we could use some fresh air." Her stomach churned in knots. She felt uneasy since she discovered Nathan's connection to all the so-called pranks directed at her friends. She suspected someone from the Alphas was behind it, but she never thought it was him. Not until she found the photo of Nathan sitting in the same white car that crashed into Tyler and Abbie. She knew she should have confronted him, but she couldn't. Her own feelings were conflicted. She kept telling herself it was just a coincidence, it couldn't be Nathan, while her more rational part screamed at her, saying she should stop making excuses for him and accept the truth. "Beautiful view, isn't it?" Emily realized they were standing on a cliff. She looked at the bay below them, shielding her eyes, and admired the glimmering water. Nathan grabbed her hand. "Emily, there's something important I need to tell you." Her heart skipped a beat and she snatched her hand from his grip. "I know what it is. I know what you did." She was hoping for him to deny it all, but his silence told her all she wanted to know. "I trusted you." There was a bitterness in her voice. "I was starting to love you. How could you do this to my friends? How could you do this to me?" She looked at him with fury. "Just a little push, and it will all be over," she heard a nagging voice in the back of her head. "It's a high cliff..." "I'm so sorry, Emily. I should have told you-" "Damn right you should!" She turned on her heel and ran. He was shouting something, but she didn't want to hear it anymore. Tears blurred her vision and she couldn't see the path, but it didn't matter. She just wanted to be as far from him as possible. She reached the manor. The rehearsal dinner already started, but judging from the raised voices, it wasn't going very well. She suddenly felt sorry for Kate. If the rest of Sterling family was anything like Nathan, there wasn't enough money in the world to compensate for it. She grabbed her suitcase, determined to go back to Hartfeld, and all of her clothes fell on the floor. Emily cursed under her breath. She was sure she didn't leave that damn thing open. "Whatever fancy dress or jewelry that nosy person was looking for, they didn't find it here," she thought vindictively. She stuffed her belongings back to the suitcase when a sudden thought struck her. She dug through her clothes with trembling hands. She packed the dagger - she couldn't really tell why - and it was no longer there. Someone tapped lightly on the door. Emily opened it to see a young woman in a crisp suit. "I heard someone crying. Are you alright?" Emily laughed like a maniac. She was far from alright, but what could she tell the pretty stranger? "I fell in love with a psychopath? I performed a midnight voodoo ritual? I lost a cursed dagger?" She would surely put her in an asylum. Emily brushed the tears from her cheeks. "I'm sorry. It's nothing. I had a fight with my date, and I think I'm going home. To Hartfeld." The woman shook her head. "It's too late. The last train has already left. But if you don't want to stay here, you can go with me. I'm staying in a nice bed and breakfast downtown." She slapped her forehead. "Oh, silly me! I didn't even introduce myself. I'm Elizabeth, but everyone calls me Ellie. I'm a friend of Kate's." Emily smiled. Ellie's chatter seemed to ease her mind. "So you're saying you're from Hartfeld? Kate and I graduated from here a few years ago. Man, I still miss all those parties." She sighed deeply and glanced at her watch. Her face lit up. "Speaking of it, I know how to take your mind off things! You're going with me to Kate's bachelorette party!"

The girls definitely knew how to party. After a few rounds of drinks, Emily completely forgot about Nathan and the childish curse. It wasn't her idea, anyway. And if someone stole the dagger... good riddance. Kate stood from her chair, giggling. "It seems I had too many horse-things..." She hiccuped. "I need to the bathroom. Someone, give me a hand?" Emily grabbed her elbow and helped Kate steady herself. "Thanks, friend. You are a friend, right?" Kate didn't even wait for a response. She looked into the bathroom mirror, studying her reflection with sudden sobriety. She let out a deep sigh. "Tanner is going to be pissed. He doesn't like it when I don't... behave." She took down her bracelet and Emily gasped, seeing her bruised wrist. "Did he do it? Kate, is he... is he hurting you?" She shook her head sadly. "It's nothing. I deserved it." "Nobody deserves to be beaten, Kate. You know that." "He's a good man. He's just... he has a temper, and it's my fault for making him angry. I'm never going to find another guy like him." Emily wanted to shake her and knock some sense into her head. She couldn't believe Kate's words. "You can't marry a guy who's beating you!" Kate's lips trembled and she started to cry. "I have to... he threatened to kill me and my family if I don't." "I have an idea." Emily hugged her and took out the phone. "Hello? I'm going to need your help."

Emily sat in the back of the room. To her surprise, Nathan was nowhere to be found. "He probably left yesterday," she thought. She smiled viciously, looking at Tanner waiting for his bride. "We'll see your smile in a few minutes, bastard." She could see people were getting anxious. Scarlett, Kate's maid of honor, tapped her foot with annoyance, while Ellie went to check the dressing room. When she got back, her face was pale. "Kate... she's gone." Everyone started to talk at once. She slipped out of the room, feeling sudden panic. She hoped her drunk plan was going to work, but she didn't think Kate was really going to stand up for herself and run from her abuser. Now that she did, Emily felt proud and sick at once. Tanner's best man called the police. Emily felt a great relief when it turned out the chief sits deep in Sterlings' pockets. He insisted that nothing bad happened, and there was no need for an investigation. She couldn't agree more, but Ellie had a different opinion. She saw her talking outside with a tall, dark-haired officer - her name was Naomi or something - and the two of them left to check the woods behind the manor. It started to rain, and Emily hoped the water would destroy any traces they might have left. She started to pack her suitcase. A sound of thunder almost caused her a heart attack, but she shrugged it off, telling herself to stop watching horror movies. They made her nerves a total wreck. She was on her way out when Ellie came back with the deputy. Everyone stared at the two soaked women. Emily gulped, recognizing the mud-stained rags in Ellie's hands as Kate's wedding veil. Naomi looked at the gathered guests. "We found a body."

[catandcowwrite]

buried memories

The closet door leads me to a hidden world almost like Narnia, but instead of the snowy fantasy where the majestic Aslan resides, I’m met with past versions of myself, with memories that seem to have been forgotten. 

Some are bitter, some sweet, some sour. Some bittersweet. 

I see a freshman girl who’s just finished her first cross country time trial. It is the morning of her older sister’s departure to college. She’s exhausted and almost cries out of frustration for her poor performance, but also because she didn’t get to say a real goodbye at 5:02am when she left the house, only a silent one as she gazed at her sleeping sister in bed whose peaceful sleep she didn’t want to disturb.

Down the road, I see that girl months later, a skinner but stronger version, after months of vigorous training, thrilling races, and a lot of pain, tripping over her spikes at a track meet she wasn’t meant to run, but was still put in because the coach didn’t care about her shin splints. She gets right back up, but accidentally falls again right after, skinning the same knee. Looking down, grimacing at the grotesque sight of blood running down her calves, she keeps going, after all there were 5 more laps to run to complete the two miles. 

Next I see her during a school vacation to a beachside resort, laughing and talking to an older boy whom she has no idea is interested in her. We’re just friends, she thinks in her head as she goes into his living room to hangout even though opposite gender condos were supposed to be off limits. We’re just friends, she thinks, as he lays his head on her lap when they’re talking. How oblivious she was, how innocent and naive. 

A little later, the next month, she’s at a school dance, having rejected that same guy who surprised her by asking her to go with him. She went with a group of friends instead, accidentally matching her purple dress with a cute blonde guy who happened to wear a purple tie. People around them whispered, questioning how a freshman could reject an upperclassmen and go with another guy instead. How rude, they said. Little did they know it was simply coincidence. She danced with the kid later anyways, in an effort to avoid the other guy. First time slow-dancing with a guy, and she was glad it was with him.

That summer, she’s meeting up with a friend she’d met earlier in that semester through her musical endeavors. The younger brother of her sister’s friend, he was one of the most friendly guys she’d ever encountered and quickly became close friends with after she finally mustered the courage to approach him the second to last day and said hi. He was such a nice guy, she thought. All smiles and loved to hug as a form of greeting. She’d never been much of a hugger or a touchy person, but his were very comforting, and he slowly grew on her. Two months after she met him though, she met discouragement as well after finding out he had a girlfriend at the time. And felt guilty for liking him more than a friend, and suddenly his hugs felt much colder than before in her head. They had dinner together to catch up in the weeks leading up to school. He’d broken up with his girlfriend awhile ago, he told her. And she told him about how she felt terrible that she liked him so, and he gave her a reassuring smile, saying it’s okay, and that he already could see her feelings through her actions and words. First time eating out with a guy, and she was glad it was him, she thought during the meal. Three years later, when he so conveniently began rooming with her best friends brother, she learned that he’d liked her at the time too. And I stood there watching her, a small smile on her face, amusement almost, that finally she knew there had been someone who had liked her when she liked him.

Back to that same year, I see her at a barbershop, getting bangs for the first time, trying something new. They proved to be troublesome later on, and she never got them again. But at least she tried. 

Over the hill and through the trees, there she is getting asked to the same dance the next year, except this time it’s in New York, with a gigantic hershey’s kiss and flowers from a street vendor, accompanied by some not-so-clever puns. She says yes, pressured by all the upperclassmen who stood by the sidelines watching, but in her heart she hated the thought of going with this guy. The nerve he had! Asking in front of all these people even though she’d made it clear she didn’t want to be asked. She ended up giving the flowers and chocolate to the nice maids who came by for room service, and they were delighted to have them. 

After crossing a bridge, I see someone unfamiliar. Was this really the same person as before? Her hair has been falling out, half as thick as it was two years ago. Her skin is covered with rashes, partly due to stress, partly due to a poor and imbalanced diet. Her eyes stare at me, hollow and sad, and I blink furiously to contain the tears quickly welling up in my eyes. What had made her this way? She curls up in bed, not wanting to get up, not wanting to speak to anyone. She wishes to sleep and never wake up, to go far, far away from where she is now. She is trapped in the cage of her thoughts. 

And there she is the next month, unable to eat at the dinner, sitting in agony silently poking at her food. Her eyes are even more dull than before, the once lively sparkle completely lost. I want to reach out and hug her, but she turns away before I can get to her, flinching at my touch. She loathes herself more than any other person in the world, and thinks that only if she were gone, everything would be better. 

Fall has turned into winter, and I trek down the snowy slope, shivering from the cold, but more so the chilling winds of desolation that almost throw off my balance. As I search for the next version of myself, I see a figure far away furiously hanging on for dear life off a cliff, fingers just inches from slipping and falling to her death. I close my eyes and mentally cheer her on, for thousands of feet away I cannot do anything. What seems like an eternity later, I open them to see her at the top of the mountain, out of breath after an intense struggle with the blizzard. I can finally let out a breath of relief. She has fought with all her strength, against the bitter weather, against her own self. And she has triumphed. Amidst the inclement, freezing weather, I feel a sense of peace, of warmth in my heart. 

It is an uphill climb from there. Or should I say, an easy, downhill journey. Why are words so strange, I wonder. An uphill climb is a positive expression, while things going downhill means something is wrong. Rather in reality, climbing up a mountain is one of the hardest feats to physically achieve, and everything is so much easier when gravity can pull you down as you descend back to ground level. I stroll down the hill, and as winter melts to spring, little flowers begin to emerge and form delicate blooms. She lies in a field of grass staring up at clouds floating ever so gently across the clear, blue sky. 

I walk along the curved path, gazing at the pretty pink flowers on the cherry blossom trees. She’s mentally pulling out her hair in frustration; she never thought she would be the type to like two guys at once and when it finally happened, it made her feel so pathetic and hopeless at the same time. Thankfully, these things don’t last, and her heart was patched up and filled with calmness once again not long after the incident, both guys forgotten. 

As I continue on, ambling at a steady pace toward who knows where, I see another girl. She’s running, while the dark cloud chaos chases after her, all these things that she thought and hope to have gotten rid of long before. The familiarity of being chased was almost worse than the act itself. The same thing all over again, that she can’t seem to escape no matter where she runs to. The little mental strength she’s gathered the past months slowly crumbles down, and she eventually grows short of breath and crumples to the ground as well. 

Nevertheless, I see a faint flicker of a flame still inside her, not ready to be put out yet. And sure enough, a few months down the road, she looks better than ever. There is a fierceness in her eyes, toughened by her circumstances that have failed to bring her down. Her cheek are rosy, and the traces of the hollow emptiness she once was are almost completely gone. She’s got a long road ahead of her still, but she is fully prepared to face whatever challenges life throws at her. 

I see her laughing, camera in one hand, skateboard in the other. She’s away from family and many dear friends, but she’s surrounded by some of the most wonderful people that she wouldn’t have met if she didn’t leave home. 

Above all, she knows to set her eyes on things above, not on the temporary things. In her heart is an eternal hope, a flame that blazes so bright nothing can extinguish it. 

And as I head back to the comfort of my room, through the hidden door in my closet, I realize that the girl that I see is no one but me.