#once I added those wrinkles it felt wrong to tone down the detail and find a more efficient coloring method

[stodareegg]

happy belated international compress day

[julemmaes]

98.“It’s not a double date. We’re just third and fourth wheeling.” for nessian???😅😅😅😅

Third And Fourth Wheeling - October 16th

Nesta Archeron x Cassian

A/N: I AM. ASHAMED. OF MYSELF. I KNOW IT’S LITERALLY THREE MONTHS LATE BUT I HOPE YOU’LL LIKE IT ANYWAY

Masterlist

Word count: 2,312

Nesta would have rather done anything else at that moment than have to walk even for one more second through the streets of Velaris with her best friend, her boyfriend, and Cassian Navarro. Not because the company was bad, but the last chapter of the book she was reading had ended with an unexpected event, and she needed to know if the main character would be able to save herself somehow.

When Amren had suggested going out that afternoon, she hadn't realized that the last person Nesta wanted to see would be there, and by the time she'd arrived at the meeting point and seen him with his back turned in the distance, it had been too late to turn around and go home, because Varian had greeted her with a curt wave of his hand and he'd turned around. And Nesta had felt as if she were floating for a moment.

It was no secret that Cassian had been genuinely interested in her - with all the times he'd flirted with her at every party they'd met at, it was quite impossible to ignore that detail - but Nesta was sure she'd never hinted at her true feelings for the man in question. Or at least, she had been until Amren had given her a not-so-sneaky wink, seeing how she'd blushed when she'd stopped next to Cassian and ogled her with inquisitive eyes.

They'd started walking along the Sidra, stopping at a small cafe with a gorgeous view of the river mouth, only to resume walking after not even an hour. The only thing she could be thankful for was the spectacular winter sunset the city offered them.

"Are you having fun?" asked Cassian suddenly, distracting her from admiring the falling sun.

Nesta slowly turned to face him, clenching her hands into fists in her pockets. She blinked a few times, not sure if she heard him correctly, "Hmm?"

"Are you having fun?" he asked her again, a sly smile on his lips.

Lips that Nesta should have stopped staring at. She glanced up at his eyes and noticed that they sparkled with mirth. She shrugged, returning her attention to the sidewalk, "I'd rather be home on my couch reading a book." she murmured without hiding her boredom. Varian burst out laughing a few feet ahead of them as Amren chuckled beside him at something the latter had said, and Nesta wondered again why her friend had invited them if she wasn't going to consider them at all.

"I guessed as much." Cassian gave a nervous chuckle and scratched his chin thoughtlessly, "When Amren suggested we meet for a double date I didn't think she meant with you." he said in a more cautious tone, "Not that I mind."

A sound much like that of a cat choking made its way out of her, "It's not a double date. We're just third and fourth wheeling." joked Nesta, chuckling at the idiocy he had just said.

Cassian looked at her wide-eyed and then burst out laughing, throwing his head back, and Nesta thought it was an overreaction to what she'd said, "And here I thought I was going actually taking you home after dinner."

Nesta wrinkled her brow, looking at him with a horrified expression, "Pig."

"I was only kiddin'," he said, still with that stupid grin on his face.

She nodded once, reducing her lips to a thin line, "Sure." she whispered, probably in a more detached tone than she intended.

He seemed to stiffen beside her, and Nesta risked a glance in his direction. The frown on her face deepened even more as she saw his expression. He looked almost tense, like when you're in high school and you don't know if the teacher is going to say your name for the exam.

She shook her head, flashing her eyes back to the snowy mountains, thinking it was just her imagination.

Yes, it couldn't be otherwise.

Cassian couldn't be under any pressure just because she hadn't fallen for his temptation and responded to his flirting like she always did. Her doubts were soothed when he sagged down beside her and returned to his relaxed demeanor.

Still, as she strolled through the snowy streets of Velaris and cursed all the saints and gods of that world for not making her turn down Amren's invitation, she couldn't help but think that she wasn't uncomfortable next to him. That even though their arms touched every time they passed someone walking in their opposite direction she didn't mind being there with him. She didn't mind him wrapping his arm around her shoulders when passersby had no intention of moving and risking coming at her, and he would remove her from their paths before they bumped into her.

She hadn't even minded that he'd offered to pay for her tea, though she knew she'd have to find a way to pay him back. Or that he'd offered her his gloves when she hadn't been able to hide the fact that her hands were turning purple from the freezing weather.

She also liked that he didn't feel the need to fill that silence that had fallen between them, but rather seemed to appreciate it as much as she did.

One thing she'd noticed during the few outings she'd been invited to was that people seemed to dislike silence that was considered awkward, always trying to cover up every second of time by saying polite phrases or giving far too much personal information - things that Nesta could stand to accept from her sisters and closest friends, not from strangers she'd known for a few days or in some cases a few hours.

Cassian seemed to think exactly as she did, however, because he hadn't said a word since she'd contradicted him, and although he always had that confused, thoughtful expression on his face, he didn't seem inclined to start another conversation.

***

Cassian often wondered how people managed to stay silent when they were doing boring, simple tasks as walking. He felt the need to speak, the words tickling his tongue like they never had before so they could go out and tease her some more, just one more time, to see how far he could push it.

Nesta Archeron was the most beautiful and mesmerizing woman Cassian had ever had the honor of meeting, of that he had no doubt, but she certainly wasn't committed to making his job any easier.

The first time he had seen her, he had been shocked by the sharp, elegant, serious features of what he did not yet know would become the woman of his dreams for the next ten months. The eyes of that peculiar gray, a color he had never seen in anybody else, that he had learned to appreciate in the blink of an eye. The dark hair she'd always worn tied back and never styled the same way... Cassian had dreamed of touching it so many times, of putting his lips to it, of holding it between his fingers as he held her.

And the first time he'd seen her with her hair down, that had been the day he'd realized there would be no other in his life. The way it had wrapped around Nesta's face, the way it fell over her shoulders and framed that perfect breasts.

But Cassian hadn't been lost just by the appearance of that ethereal being, no, that would have been foolish. That mouth had spoken words that the man wouldn't have been able to think of even in his wildest dreams. They had made him kneel, fall before that queen he would serve without the shadow of uncertainty.

Yet when he had gathered enough courage to speak to her, she had done nothing but look at him, arch an eyebrow, and walk away.

The dismissal a blow so hard to the man's pride that it had taken him seconds before he realized that she was actually gone. It had hit him deep, hurting him in ways he didn't think he could be hurt, and he certainly hadn't expected that such a beautiful body could also contain such indifference. God how wrong he had been.

He hadn't tried to make a move on Nesta again, respecting what was clearly a rejection, but his hopes had been revived, stronger than before, when Feyre had mentioned to him that Nesta had asked about him. Several times.

With the memory of that hopeful emotion stirring in him, he uttered the words before he could stop himself, "And what if I asked you out on a real date?"

Nesta's head snapped up, toward him, and she seemed to stumble over her steps. Her eyes went wide for a moment as surprise laced her every feature. That hope was about to turn into fulfillment in him, but then she blinked, composing herself, and turned back to Amren and Varian, looking at their intertwined hands, "I'd tell you I'm not interested."

Cassian felt the disappointment and embarrassment of being rejected for a second time make its way inside of him, as his cheeks turned a light red. He only hoped she didn't notice, that she thought he was just cold.

"I see," he murmured. He put his hands in his pockets, squeezing into his shoulders.

He saw Nesta watching him out of the corner of her eyes and turned to her, giving her a tight smile, wanting to reassure her that it was okay. When she realized he was looking at her she parted her lips, but closed them the next second and Cassian sighed, forming a cloud of mist in front of him.

Then Nesta surprised him, "It's not you." she murmured so quietly that for a moment he thought he'd imagined it, "I just don't date people I don't know."

Cassian was confused, "I don't understand."

Nesta took a shaky breath, keeping her eyes fixed in front of her, "I don't date people who aren't my friends."

Those words didn't help quell the confusion inside of him, but rather only added to the disappointment the pain of being told so directly that Nesta didn't consider him her friend.

He decided to gloss over that mitigating pain in his chest, "So how do you meet new people to date?"

Nesta bit her lower lip, the muscle in her cheekbone twitching, "I don't." she said even more softly. "I don't like to make the people I'm going out with think that they should expect something from me at the end of the night and so before I know if I want something from them or if I want to give them something, I have to get to know them. I can't bond - romantically speaking - with someone, if I don't know them."

Cassian nodded, with a furrowed brow. It was obviously the opposite for him considering how madly lost to Nesta he was even without knowing hardly anything about her.

Then, an idea began to form in his head, "What if instead of going out as two people who want a relationship, I invite you out as someone who wants to be your friend?" he asked, straightening his back so as not to bounce with glee.

"Cassian-"

"Please, Nes." the nickname was out hanging between them before he could stop and before she could answer him, he said, "I wouldn't expect anything at the end of the night even if it was an actual date, like no one else should," he took a short breath, "Just a simple day out between two strangers who need to get to know each other to become friends."

Nesta was looking at him now, no emotion showing on that beautiful impassive face, "You'd still take me to a nice restaurant and I'd know it would be a date for you, even if you say so."

Cassian ran a hand through his hair and didn't fail to notice the way Nesta swallowed as she stared at the gesture. He smiled, trying not to give away how much her minimal attention made him feel, "Not even if I took you to one of the most beautiful bookstores in the country?"

Her eyes locked on his for the first time all evening and Cassian noticed that the left one had a darker streak of color in the middle of the gray, "Tell me more." she said, when a shiver rippled through her body.

He had to restrain himself from offering her the jacket. She would surely turn him down and then accuse him of shamelessly hitting on her and he'd dig his own grave even deeper, so, fighting every fiber of his being that screamed at him to hold her close to keep her warm, he said, "It's in a town near here. It's only a two-hour drive." he saw the hesitation in her at the prospect of having to spend all that time together with him cooped up in a car and added, "You can choose the music."

"You read?"

Cassian felt something blossom in his chest. She wasn't saying no.

He nodded, suppressing a smile, "Not as often as I'd like, but yes, I do read."

Nesta hummed something, "And what do you read?"

He didn't understand where this was going, but he was glad it wasn't him who was asking all those questions. Maybe she had agreed to his request and he hadn't even noticed and she was already starting to try to get to know him.

"Mainly historical novels." he replied hesitantly, afraid of her reaction.

The silence that followed lasted eons in Cassian's mind, but when she looked at him, he thought he would be silent for the rest of his life if it assured him that view every day.

Nesta smiled at him and he felt the air leave his lungs when she said, "Alright."

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[ohmightydevviepuu]

our little life (rounded with a sleep) / chapter 6

our little life (rounded with a sleep) chapter six

Once upon a time, there was a beautiful detective. She had blonde hair, green eyes, no family, and she was good at finding people; in fact, she proclaimed this on her office door. “Swan and Humbert,” it said. “Private investigations, missing persons, and bail bonds.”

Only lately, she’s been thinking that maybe it should say “Emma Swan: Loner, Loser, Complicated wreck.”

Her partner’s been killed on a case after she made a deal with her landlord to find what had been taken from him. But when she tracks a possible perp to a bar on the outskirts of town, Emma will find out exactly how deep the rabbit hole goes.

--

@thisonesatellite had a lot of feedback on this chapter (spoiler:  it involved a lot of screaming).  also, take this leap with me, friends:  as i saw in the notes i made for @captainswanbigbang, this is officially where we leave the realm of anything previously written for this story and begin our inexorable journey toward the end.  we are halfway through!  i am very excited about this and hope that you are, too!

for @profdanglaisstuff and @katie-dub, just because.

--

cw: canonical character death rating: T/M (implied violence, language) word count:  ~4.5k AO3  chapter one | chapter two | chapter three | chapter four | chapter five

--

chapter summary:   Emma confronts Hook--Killian Jones--just, whatever the fuck his name is. Twice.   Neither of those is what Hook might call a ‘pleasant conversation’--and Henry was right:  Emma is not ready for the answers she gets.

She’s also not ready for the way her breath hitches and the world contracts when she stands in Hook’s office, his hand on her wrist and his eyes blazing as he calls her ‘princess’ like that is a curse in itself.

-- 

Emma banged on the door of The Rabbit Hole. The front door this time; no lock picks necessary, though she reconsidered this approach when it took awhile for the door to open. She was greeted by a petite blonde with a messy topknot and a pinned-on name tag (“Tink”) who looked singularly unimpressed when Emma asked to see Hook.

“He warned us you might be coming by,” Tink said. “We’re not meant to let you in.”

“Fine,” Emma sighed. “Then I’m here for, like, pixie dust or whatever.”

“I’m fresh out,” Tink deadpanned, rolling her eyes as Emma pushed through. “And I don’t think he especially wants to see you.”

In the daylight, the vintage air lent by the Edison bulbs was absent, leaving only the sense of grime. A man--by the looks of him, Hook’s companion from the alley the night of Graham’s murder--was stocking shelves and stacking glasses while shouting orders at a small, ratty-looking man in a red cap. The singer worked on some equipment on the small stage, humming to herself, and Emma tried not to listen as the feeling of subtle unease rolled through her in discordant harmony with the song.

Lacey, she of the stilettos and the t-shirt with the cascading auburn hair, was nowhere to be seen.

She’s new. The maid won’t help you kill Rumplestiltskin.

Emma shook her head and wended her way toward the office, past the restroom and the entrance to the small kitchen along the route she had taken the night before--how had it been only the night before?--following the faint sound of conversation she could hear leaking into the hallway.

“--matters grew complicated.” Hook’s voice stopped Emma in her tracks, and she paused by the door of the restroom so that she could eavesdrop. “Honestly, the details of the affair are a bit of a bore.”

“I doubt that,” a woman’s voice said. “I would imagine running off with the Swan girl--the Savior, Hook--and alerting my daughter would be anything but a bore. And while I would love to know why you thought either of those things was a good idea, you know that’s an unacceptable betrayal.”

“Come off it,” Hook snapped. “Our agreement--”

“I’ve crossed through too many worlds to be brought up short on the brink of success,” the woman cut him off. “I don’t have time for whatever game you think you’re playing.”

“You think that I don’t comprehend what the stakes are here?”

“Your actions,” the woman said, “would certainly suggest otherwise.”

“Rest assured, it won’t happen again.”

“No,” the woman agreed. “It won’t. You chose her. Now you can face the consequences of that decision.”

Emma ducked into the restroom and only just got the door shut as she heard someone, presumably Cora Hart, walk by. She counted ten and added another ten just to make sure before stepping back into the hallway and into Hook’s office.

His shirt, the same one from last night, was wrinkled and untucked, though he had discarded his waistcoat and the sleeves were rolled up to the elbow, exposing the brace on his left wrist and a flash of ink that must have been a tattoo. His hair had gone from artfully mussed to full-on mess and he needed to trim his beard back. Hook was pouring himself a drink--the rum bottle again--and drank it off quickly before pouring another.

He saw Emma as he was lifting the glass for round two; Emma watched his expression darken into something twisted and hurt. He put the glass down, turned, bent, and pulled out another glass, but otherwise didn’t acknowledge her as he poured a third shot into the clean glass and pushed it toward her.

“I generally prefer not to drink my breakfast,” Emma said, but she took the few steps forward to the desk anyway.

“Drink with me, Swan,” Hook said, his eyes flashing blue murder, “or get the hell out.” His mouth twitched upward in a harsh facsimile of his real smile. “I’m recovering from a trauma, don’t you know. In all of the times I’ve been condemned to the brig, I’ve never before been force-fed bologna.”

“You do look like shit,” Emma said, raising her glass in a toast.

“Whereas you, darling,” Hook said, “look stunning.” He drank the rum and Emma flinched, glad the glass in her hands kept her from reaching self-consciously for her flattened curls or rubbing under her eye for stray liner. The tone of his voice was deadly and Emma had never before heard an endearment sound so much like an epithet. Emma moved the glass to her lips, grateful for the burn of the liquor down her throat.

Grateful for his anger and grateful for the proof that she had been treating their acquaintance--connection--like more than it was.

She concentrated on the burn and ignored her awareness of the very fact that his anger, and his hurt, was proof that their connection was--had been--real.

“It was a mistake,” Emma said, but he didn’t let her say anything else.

“Is that what you want to call it?” He snorted, and reached for the rum bottle. Again.

“Well, I tried to call it ‘Al’,” Emma said, starting to feel her temper rise. “But it would only answer to ‘mistake’.”

Emma was trying to figure out what had happened to Graham.

Nothing else.

She was not a believer. She was not a parent. She was not interested in being part of something.

There was no future here; not a happy one, at any rate.

Consider it a reminder.

Her hand went involuntarily to the chain around her neck. “You would have done the same,” she said, and knew it was a lie.

Look out for yourself and never get hurt.

“Actually, princess,” he said, his eyes following her hand, “I believe in good form. I had no need to bring you there at all, much less hurt my own cause to do so.”

Consider it a reminder.

“Fuck you, Jones,” Emma said, and cursed herself when his eyes flickered.

“‘Killian’ will do,” he said. “I see that you had a busy night after leaving me to the tender mercies of your constabulary.”

“I came to apologize,” Emma said sharply, “and to give you this.” She started to pull at the chain around her neck, but at the stricken look that flashed across his face, put her glass on the desk and lifted it with both hands, the ring cradled in her palm.

“Well done, Swan,” Hook said. “Wouldn’t you make one hell of a pirate?” His voice was now completely emotionless, which was somehow worse than the undercurrent of malice that had been there a moment ago. “Perhaps you’re the one who should have been locked up.”

Emma dropped the ring into his outstretched hand. “Wouldn’t be the first time.”

“It was my brother’s,” he said, his voice still flat; he didn’t even bat an eyelash at her confession. “I’ve had it for--a very long time.” His fingers curled around the tarnished silver. “I think it might be the reason I’m still alive, this reminder that I once had a family.”

Emma felt the blood draining from her face and took another sip of the rum to cover it up.

“What else did you find, princess?” The word was practically a snarl. “My elder brother, Liam? My dead lover, Milah? The crusade for vengeance that carried me for nearly three hundred years?”

“Don’t call me that,” Emma said.

“Can’t handle it, Swan?” That verbal tic of his was back in full force as he landed hard on the ‘t’. “But it’s true, princess, all of it. For more years than you can imagine, I offered a black heart or an ugly death to everyone that I met, and I did it with a song in my heart--without conscience, and without remorse, because I had been done wrong.”

“Like Cora Mills?” Emma said. “Or is it Cora Hart? Either way, she seems to be in pretty good shape for a dead woman.”

“A busy night, indeed,” he murmured.

“You don’t exactly strike me as the musical type,” Emma said.

“Think, Swan,” he said. “You’ve obviously figured some things out. Think about every evil act attributed to me, every sin that has been laid at my door.” His voice was quietly terrifying, but Emma was not going to back down. “Recite to yourself my catalogue of cruelties and consider if you really want to provoke me right now.”

Emma walked to the desk and reached for the rum bottle.

He stopped her, his right hand wrapped around her wrist. The metal of the ring pressed into her and she shivered.

“I came here by choice, Swan. I am one of the few who did, though I was played just as surely as any of the poor sods who were brought here against their will. Only I was given a gift: To wake up, for twenty-eight years, and not dread the day before it began. To live the same day, over and over, and to welcome it, because I felt like someone alive.”

“I don’t understand,” she said. And she was not prepared for how quickly Hook--Jones--closed the gap between them.

“You’re a liar,” he said.

“Captain Hook is calling me a liar,” Emma said, feeling the color rising again in her cheeks. “What happened to ‘the mystique is part of my charm’?”

“No, princess,” he said. “Killian Jones is calling you a liar.” He took another step forward, further crowding her personal space.

And he had not let go of her wrist.

“Vengeance is a siren’s song as much as any other,” he said, and Emma could feel the warmth of his breath on her skin. “But my constant pursuit of revenge--for the death of the crocodile--left my life empty. That’s the thing about revenge, you see: it’s an end, not a beginning.”

Emma looked into his eyes and saw all of the despair of a lost little boy who had never mattered, and who believed he never would. She did not hold his gaze. She already had a mirror.

“Your arrival in our little corner of the world was enough to trigger the protection spell I had traveled under; the arrival of the Savior, come to break the curse, and suddenly I remembered all that had come before. I had been living in a dream powered by magical nonsense. I’d had a life, and friends, and lovers, and none of it was real.”

“And a brother,” Emma murmured, and the shock of him dropping her wrist was almost worse than his grip on it had been.

“Do not misunderstand me, princess,” he said. “Your arrival reminded me of my purpose, but I cared not one whit whether this curse ever broke. And then--”

He tilted his head, angling it down and toward her. “You,” he said. He was so close, Emma could almost grab his collar and make the space between them nonexistent. His eyes flashed as he said: “Why didn’t you come for me last night? Why did you turn on me?”

“I don’t know,” she whispered. “I don’t believe in any of this. I just need to find out what happened.”

“Liar,” he breathed, his lips just over hers. “I should thank you, Swan, for reminding me what I’m all about. And if you want to pretend that all of this isn’t happening, that’s fine. I don’t dance, anyway.”

Liar, Emma thought, watching him take one step backward and then another. He settled his weight on the desk, one leg crossed over the other, his arms folded across his chest, the chain dangling against the fabric of his shirt.

“Now,” Hook said, his expression flipping to one of complete disinterest. “If you’re going to apologize, don’t be afraid to, you know, really get into it.”

“Fuck you, Jones,” she said again.

“Alas, princess,” he said, every syllable dripping with disdain and disappointment, “the time for that is done. Just as I have done--with you.”

--

Only after she had left The Rabbit Hole did Emma realize she still had the folded parchment in her back pocket.

--

“Miss Swan,” Mr. Gold greeted her, the small but satisfied smile on his face immediately making Emma uncomfortable. “I wanted to thank you for a job well-done.”

“Mr. Gold,” Emma said, confused, “I--”

Then Emma saw it--the small object on the desk in his office: white, delicate-looking--if the chip in it was anything to judge by. A teacup.

A freaking teacup.

“I must say I was quite impressed by your efforts at tracking, Miss Swan, once you finally put your mind to it. But then again, Humbert has always been known for his ability to, shall we say, hunt down those who wish to remain hidden.”

“Happy hunting, dearie.” The Hunter. “ You kissed the Hunter, Swan.”

“How was my old friend, I wonder? Surprised to see you?”

“I was under the impression that you and he were not friends,” Emma said cautiously.

“I don’t believe he is capable of having friends,” Gold said simply, “but then again, neither am I. ‘Enemies’ might be a better term, if one were being dramatic.” He giggled, and the sound of it was heavy in the air. “Mortal enemies, one might say.”

“Thank goodness we’re not being dramatic.”

“As you can see,” Gold continued, “I have retrieved my property thanks to your efforts and so there is only the matter of payment left between us.” He smiled. “For now.”

He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a roll of cash. “I trust this will be sufficient for your time.”

Hating herself, Emma took it.

Gold folded his hands on top of his desk and looked at her, still smiling.

Emma opened her mouth to speak and then changed her mind, closing it.

The man in the animal coat, the one with the skin that seemed to glitter. In his hand was something small and white and he carried it as though it were both delicate and valuable.

“Crocodile,” Emma whispered.

The smile faltered--just for a moment. “Ah,” he said, as if that was an answer to a question.

“He’s Awake, Regina. And you’d have been stupid not to realize it the instant you saw what he did to Humbert.”

“You did it,” Emma said. “It was you. You killed Graham.”

Gold tilted his head. “Miss Swan,” he said carefully. “I understand that the loss of your partner must have been difficult for you. But I was given to understand that Mr. Humbert endured some type of physical attack. And I, well--” he paused. “I prefer small weapons: the needle, the pen, the fine points of a deal.”

It sounded so reasonable.

But it was not a denial.

All of it is because of Regina Mills and Robert Gold.

“Why are you doing this?” Emma asked. “Why did you do this, when you knew--you knew Regina had your ‘precious object.’ You wanted me to go after Hook. Everything I’ve done since Graham died is exactly what you wanted me to do.”

“Oooooh,” he smirked. “Such hostility.” His hand toyed absently with the cane propped up against his desk. “And yet you saw with your own eyes the first time in this world I’d ever laid eyes on Regina Mills. Your finding James Hook was the first time I’d ever heard the name.”

“You created the curse, didn’t you? You set all of this into motion?”

“Really, Miss Swan,” Gold said. “You’re quite emotional, dearie, but this isn’t over yet.”

“Not yet, dearie. Not yet.”

“I couldn’t in my wildest dreams understand what notions have gotten into your head,” he said. “But it sounds like something out of a book of fairytales. Perhaps you would be better off discussing it with young Master Mills.”

The gold tooth glinted as he said it.

Emma shifted her weight, uncomfortable in the chair, and the piece of folded parchment fluttered to the floor. Gold, moving more quickly than she would have imagined, bent over to pick it up, smoothing it open as he did so.

“Ah,” he said again, though it was a pained sound this time. “Now where did you get this?”

“Seeing as our business is concluded,” Emma said, holding her hand out, “I don’t see how that is any of yours.”

Tucking the drawing back into her pocket, she turned and left the room.

--

Henry was sitting in the small courtyard outside the diner as Emma walked by, a quiet Liam Jones--Hook--sitting next to him and sipping on a cup of tea. Emma tried again to give him his book back, only--

The tattoo is just proof.

“Oh, yeah,” Henry said when she asked him, flipping happily through the pages until he got to an illustration of a tall blonde man brandishing a sword and shield, the sigil rendered in broad, clean strokes.

A lion rampant.

On a field of buttercups.

“Thats Prince Charming’s sign,” Henry explained. “Why do you ask?”

Emma pulled her sleeve down so that it covered her wrist and “No reason,” she lied.

Liam watched her as she did it, a mixture of curiosity and hostility on his face, until she tried to meet his eyes. Then his face was pleasantly bland in a mask that he unquestionably had learned from his brother.

Now Emma’s head rested on her crossed arms at the counter at Granny’s, her hot chocolate getting cold and her grilled cheese untouched on the plate as her fingers rubbed across the shoelaces tied around her wrist and covering the tattoo.

“It’s part of your father’s heraldry.”

With the yelling and the tension of it all she hadn’t even gotten to ask Jones--Hook--why the fuck he had a picture of her son in his lockbox.

Like something out of a book of fairytales.

And Gold--what did he know about Henry?

What if--

If Hook--If Henry--

If they were telling the truth, then she had to come up with a way to get Henry out of this place.

“You know my mom’s the Evil Queen.”

Emma sat up, nearly knocking the plate over. Just--

“Emma!” David’s tone was frantic, his voice raised to get her attention.

“So you’re talking to me now?” Emma said.

“I need to find Snow,” he said. “She’s missing, but I will find her. I will always find her.” He looked at her seriously. “Will you aid me?”

“I thought your wife’s name was Kathryn,” Emma said, “but color me not at all surprised that you had more than one side-piece.”

David looked affronted. “Kathryn?” he asked. “I know of no one named Kathryn. Snow White is my True Love. I’ve known it ever since--”

“You first saw your mother’s ring on her finger?” Emma asked.

True Love. "I’m pretty sure that Sheriff Nolan is Prince Charming.”

“Indeed,” he said. “That was when I knew I would never love another woman.”

“Very cute, Charming,” she said.

“I have a name, you know,” he said, but something about it made him smile. “You’re so much like her.”

Emma tried to get up and leave but his hand wrapped around her bicep. She grabbed his wrist and found not a hand, but the silver metal of a hook. The hook was where his left hand should have been and Emma looked up, already knowing what--who--she would see.

“I don’t mean to upset you,” Hook said, “but we make quite the team, Emma.”

“Emma!”

Someone was shaking her shoulder.

“Emma!”

She opened her eyes; it was David.

“Emma,” he said, “have you seen--”

She was still sitting at the counter at Granny’s--her hot chocolate was ice cold now and her grilled cheese congealed into something inedible. Emma shook her head and tried to orient herself.

“Mary Margaret,” Emma said slowly. “You’re looking for Mary Margaret.”

“Yes,” David said. “I haven’t seen her since--well, I think something might be wrong.”

“No shit, Sherlock,” Emma said, signalling to Granny for a cup of coffee and adding, “in a to-go cup, please.” She turned back to David and said: “You broke her heart, David, what else do you need from her?”

“I can’t find her anywhere,” David said, his eyes pleading.

Granny came back over with the coffee and Emma stood up to take it.

“Listen, you need to leave her alone,” Emma said. “You fucked up, Nolan, and--”

“Can you please just--” he took a deep breath, running his hand over his hair. “Can you look for her? Please?”

Emma paused, her jacket halfway on, and looked at him. “Yeah,” she said. “Whatever.” She waved at him dismissively and went through the door, the bell above announcing her departure.

She stood on the front step, taking a sip of her coffee, wanting to shrug it off.

All of it--everything.

Emma Swan was not a believer.

She sighed. She didn’t need her lie-detecting superpower to know when she was lying to herself.

Someone bumped into her in the courtyard and Emma turned to see a figure in a long topcoat walking away. She’d seen him before, Emma was sure of it. But her thoughts were elsewhere; she needed to talk to Hook again. About--the parchment.

And the dreams. Because some things--some things she couldn’t ignore any longer.

“You know my mom’s the Evil Queen.” “We make quite the team, Emma.”

Some things, she couldn’t shrug off.

...in my wildest dreams… ...the first time in this world...

Emma stopped dead in her tracks.

Gold knew. He fucking knew.

--

It was as she was about to turn into the street that she saw him: his back to her, his dark-leather-clad back acting almost as a shield between himself and the world. Emma took a breath and steeled herself before saying, “Hey.” It was one word--one syllable--and she had to force it past her lips. “We need to talk.”

Hook flinched at the sound of her voice. “I find,” he said, “that when a woman says that, I’m rarely in for a pleasant conversation.” He hadn’t turned to face her. “And, in case I had not made myself clear--we’re done, you and me.”

Emma walked toward him anyway, using her free hand to pull the parchment out of her back pocket. The coffee went down on the table, next to his flask, which was uncorked.

“I need you to tell me about this,” she said. There was a flash of pain in his eyes before his zero-fucks-to-give-mask slipped into place, and Emma sat down opposite him. “I need you to tell me about the boy in this picture. Who is he?”

“I like the commanding voice, Swan, all, ‘who is he’. Truly--chills.” Hook took a sip from his flask, giving an exaggerated shudder.

“Why does he look like Henry Mills, Hook?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Hook said cooly.

Emma took a deep breath. “Henry likes you,” she said, trying not to let her frustration through. “He trusts you. He apparently believes your bullshit fairytale nonsense and thinks that I’m some kind of savior and you’re Captain Hook.”

She was not successful, and this did not go unnoticed by Hook; his lips turned just slightly upward in a smirk.

“I am Captain Hook, Swan,” Hook said, “just as you are the Savior. These things remain true irrespective of the boy’s beliefs. But that drawing is not of Regina Mills’ adopted son.”

Emma smacked her hand on the table, hard. The coffee cup jumped. “His book, Killian. He’s got a fucking book of all of the same stories you’ve been spewing. And,” Emma said, not noticing the color rising in Hook’s face, “He’s not Regina Mills’ son. He’s mine. My kid, and you had his picture in your desk, and I need to know why.”

Hook was completely silent and the weight of what she’d said began to sink in.

Mine. My kid.

“That’s not Henry,” Hook said again, more slowly this time. His expression was troubled, his eyebrows furrowed. He seemed to be considering his words with extreme care as he shifted in his seat and removed his leather jacket.

“Milah,” he said softly, deftly working the left cuff of his shirt unbuttoned with his right hand. He proceeded to roll the cuff up off of his wrist and past his forearm until it revealed the tattoo she’d caught a glimpse of only that morning. It was a red heart pierced with a dagger and the name MILAH was emblazoned across both. “That’s Milah, Swan. My Milah, and her son.”

Emma shook her head, pointing at the picture, her other hand clutching her to-go cup. “That’s Henry, Hook. They could be fucking twins.”

The color was slowly draining from Hook’s face. “That’s Baelfire, Swan,” he said, his voice insistent. “Bae, we called him. Milah drew that portrait herself, to remind herself that one day we would go back for him. I watched her do it, though she died before we were able to make the attempt.” He looked away from her before adding, “Bae could have been my son, if I had had the strength to let him in.”

My son.

“I don’t understand.” Or maybe she just didn’t want to.

“Baelfire is Henry’s father,” Hook said seriously. “It was obvious to me the first moment I saw him without the influence of the curse clouding my mind.”

Emma’s mind was reeling, and she took a sip of the cold coffee just to break their eye contact. It tasted sour going down, but she took another. And another, ignoring the feeling in her stomach even as he said the words.

“I know not what means he may have used to travel to this realm, nor what name he adopted once here, but there can be no mistake.” Hook paused, uncomfortable. “He stayed with me for a time in Neverland.”

She shouldn’t believe him--but she did. He was telling her the truth.

“Henry’s father’s name is Neal,” Emma whispered finally, closing her eyes. “Neal Cassidy.”

Damn it, she’d always known he was older than he’d said he was. She was feeling an irrational urge to laugh.

Or maybe cry.

Just--what even was her life?

Emma tightened her grip on the coffee cup like it was some kind of lifeline.

“Swan,” Hook’s voice was urgent, and Emma felt his fingers brush against her wrist. “Are you telling me the truth? You--you knew Bae? Henry is, truly, your son?”

He’s mine. My kid.

That was the first time she’d ever let herself say that.

The thought made her dizzy. Emma let go of the cup to put her head in her hand and leaned her weight into it, bracing herself.

“Emma,” Hook said. The fingers around her wrist pulled tighter. “Emma--Swan, are you all right?”

The cup fell over, spilling cold coffee onto the table.

“What did you do?”

Emma tried to answer, but couldn’t. She also could not seem to open her eyes.

“What did you do?” Hook repeated. “Answer me!”

The last thing she remembered as she blacked out was the feeling of Hook’s fingers threaded through hers.

--

@kmomof4 @shireness-says @stahlop @carpedzem @spartanguard @optomisticgirl @snowbellewells @captainsjedi @eirabach @scientificapricot @mariakov81 @searchingwardrobes 

[azwriting]

Another Life (Forget Me Not, Kylo Ren x Reader) - Chapter Ten

Hi everyone! Here’s chapter ten! It seems Kylo and the reader are getting closer.... Anyways I hope you all enjoy! Let me know if you want to be added to the taglist!

Summary: (Y/N) continues to get flashes of her memories from her prior life. Which continue to draw her closer to Kylo. 

Warning(s): Sexual references, a bunch of fluff really

Word Count: 3923

(Y/N)’s hand stayed intertwined with Kylo’s as they continued to eat breakfast. An energy flowing between them. The energy had always been there, since they were children, but (Y/N) was only now beginning to feel it once more. Her returned past not only bringing back her memories, but reviving the connection she had to the Force. She was attuned once again to the energy that flowed through every living thing. Especially the energy flowing through the man across from her.

Kylo and her were silent, only stealing glances at one another every so often. She did not fully understand the complete shift in her, this sudden need to be near him. The agony of two lives seemed to be subsiding with his proximity and as much as (Y/N) wanted to credit that as to why she wanted him close, she knew it would only be a lie. Yes, he was the Supreme Leader of the First Order, the person she was supposed to see as her enemy. Yet, the man across from her in simple dark clothing only resembled the boy who used to watch sunsets with her. The feelings (Y/N) (Y/L/N) had were too strong to fight. The connection the two shared through the Force, only fueled the pull, the allure, the current that (Y/N) attempted to fight against. And whether or not she liked it, she needed his help to find herself again. Eating the last bite of her strudel, (Y/N) glanced up to Kylo, who’s reddened face held onto their hands. She watched his black waves slipped down in front of his eyes, a vision resurfacing.

Two medium length braids fell down (Y/N)’s shoulders as she sat in her small hut, meditating. She was not one to brag but she was the best meditator in class. Master Luke had accredited her ability to great uncle, a man known for his dedication to the Living Force. (Y/N) could feel everything, the vitality that surrounded her, the temple, and especially the incoming strong vigor. Not a second later, Ben came running in, his aura emitting nothing but pure elation. “What?” She prompted not opening an eye. 

The boy was a little breathless as he delivered the good news, “Master Luke is allowing for us to go to Hanna for the ball!” (Y/N)’s eyes opened at that, turning to the grinning boy. Sweat made his hair cling to his face, its usual fluffiness matted down. 

“Really?” She could not deny the joy that flooded her at the idea of returning home for the first time in years. Ben only nodded coming to sit beside her on the floor. “I thought you didn’t want to go?” (Y/N) questioned, nudging his shoulder. 

Ben only shook his head, “The ball no, I don’t wish to go to that, but I would like to see my parents.” She nodded at that, she wanted to see them too. 

“When do we leave?” Ben looked up to her, an unreadable look in his eyes as he watched her intently. For the past two years, something had begun to form between them. Something more than just childhood friends, something more powerful. 

“In an hour.” Ben stood once again, pulling her up with him. He stood close, his warm breath fanning across her face. (Y/N) would almost be distracted by his presence, by the constant energy flowing between them, but instead she wrinkled her nose. 

“Did you have your private lesson again? You smell worse than a Wookie! You better go freshen up, I’m not flying anywhere with you smelling like that!”

Ripping her hand from his, (Y/N) stumbled up and out of her chair in alarm. Her hands flew up to her forehead pushing hair out of her face. Kylo stood in alarm too, “What’s wrong?” (Y/N) ignored him, her thoughts racing faster than what it took to make the Kessel Run. Her content with the Supreme Leader seemed to grow, leaving her jittery. Her emotions and senses were out of control, every surfacing memory only leading her to feel more drawn to Kylo. The very man before her, trying to snap her back to reality.

 “What happened? What’s wrong?” Kylo reiterated, his hands cupping around her face. He could not read her thoughts they were too cluttered, like the morning he gave her her memories back. 

“I keep getting these… flashes of moments, memories from before.” She answered finally, eyes glazed over. 

“What did you see?” Kylo spoke gently rubbing soothing circles on her upper cheeks.

 “It was us, before we went to the ball on Hanna.” (Y/N) whispered, peering up at his concerned eyes… he had always been so worried about her. “You had just come back from your lesson and you were so sweaty, you smelled-” 

“Worse than a Wookie.” Kylo finished, letting out a quiet laugh, and recalling the moment himself. 

(Y/N) let a small smile grace her lips, before she turned serious again. “Why does this keep happening?” He let out a deep sigh pondering momentarily. 

“You’re still processing everything. I’m assuming once you’ve accepted everything, it will stop.” (Y/N) groaned slightly, she was hoping she was past reliving everything. She could not handle the torment, but then again she did not feel like she had that morning everything returned. No, she felt strangely secure with the warm hands pressed against her skin. “It will be okay, it will subside soon.” Kylo reassured her, his baritone voice laced with tenderness. He made it difficult to pretend to despise him. 

Suddenly his hands fell from her face, (Y/N) waking from a daze. Stars, she was puddy in his hands already… This was dangerous. “I’ll clean up and you go get ready for the day. Perhaps we could go on a walk? Some fresh air may help with the overwhelming senses.” 

(Y/N) beamed, “Yes that sounds lovely actually.” She turned to leave, but a sudden urge erupted inside of her and she turned back to his observing stature. Her hands shakingly rose to his cheeks, her thumb gently falling over his scar. “Thank you for breakfast.” She wanted to say more: to thank him for helping, for returning the lost pieces of her soul, for always being there for her. Instead her hands slipped down and she turned to the hallway, her heart hammering in her chest. Oh yes, this was very dangerous.

Kylo stood hunched over the kitchen sink watching the warm breeze float through the endless greenery. He could hear the faint sound of the water running down the hall, but his mind was too fogged to focus on it. A warm flush worked its way onto his skin, a feeling he always credited to being around (Y/N), his light. He was still processing all the physical contact she had been bestowing upon him. It had been over a decade since he had felt pure, kind, bonded physical contact with someone. Rey and him had had a moment months ago, but that was different. That was two broken people finding temporary solace within each other, but the scavenger had let him down just as everyone else had. 

(Y/N) was different though, she never let him down. It was all so overpowering, she was overpowering. Not to mention her thoughts, her thoughts of him. He could sense the part of her that wanted to open up to him, that was beginning to see him in a new light. He wondered if she could sense his internal battle, the light winning at the moment. He did not care if she did, he did care that it was there. There was no Snoke to punish him for it anymore, he was liberated from his cruelty. Yet, he was not freed from the constant wavering of his darkness and light. All Kylo wanted was her by his side forever, they could get into the messier details another time. He moved to put the last clean dish away when a strange unfamiliar feeling washed over him. It was like a cloud had enveloped around him in the Force, transporting him elsewhere. This was entirely new, something he had never experienced before.

Kylo was abruptly back in the master bedroom. It was cleaner: the sheets neatly made on top of the bed, a changing divider placed in the corner where the lightsaber slashes once were, and the frames depicting many different things were cleaned and placed upright on the dresser. Kylo was now in entirely different clothing, dark brown robes now adorned his towering figure. Something was not right… A sweet laugh came from his left and Kylo turned instinctively to find (Y/N) emerging from the bathroom. Her clothes were covered in splotches of water, soaking her. A gem gleaming on a significant finger as she brushed away her loose hair, sitting down on the edge of the bed with a huff. 

“Bathtime is always such a hassle.” Kylo chuckled in unison with her as a small child exited the bathroom. It was a girl, no older than four, with wet black ringlets, soft brown eyes, and a beauty mark  on her left cheek. 

“Were you splashing again?” Kylo bent down to the little girl’s level, watching the sneaky grin work its way onto her sweet young face. 

“It was an accident!” She giggled out, her voice angelic.

 “Well you know what that means.” Kylo stated simply, mocking a serious tone. The little girl shook her head, those killer brown eyes widening. “I’m just going to have to tickle you.” 

The girl gasped immediately, “No Papa!” But Kylo already swept up her and onto the purple sheets, tickling the sides of her pale green nightgown endlessly. “Mamma!” The girl breathed out between her hysterical giggles, “Help me!” (Y/N) only laughed from the side coming to the rescue.

Porcelain shattering across the floor woke Kylo from his trance, the man now back in the kitchen. What was that? He had never felt something so… real. This was something he had never been educated in, something he did not know existed. Had he simply just conjured up the image himself? No, it was not possible. He could not fabricate a delusion so strong, so beautiful. That was the worst thing swirling through his mind right now, the longing for it to have been true. Too caught up in his own confusion, Kylo did not hear the water shut off or the door opening down the hall.

 “D-Did you see it too?” Kylo’s eyes focused to find (Y/N) with a towel sloppily wrapped around her frame, soap still lathered in her hair. He could only nod, staring back at her half-crazed eyes. He wondered what he looked like. She let out a sigh of relief, “I thought I was going crazy. It was nothing like the other flashes, it felt so real like…” She trailed off searching for the correct term. 

“Another life.” Kylo finished her thought, finding his voice. The two shared a grim expression, still suspended in a state of shock. (Y/N) and Kylo could sense it in one another, the gaping hole the illusion left in its wake, the yearning too. It was not real, it could never happen. Could it? No, Kylo shook away his hope, war was no place for a child. “G-Go finish getting ready and then we’ll go on that walk?” His statement came out as more of a question, but (Y/N) nodded nonetheless. She disappeared back into her room as Kylo outstretched his hand. His focus was shaken as he tried to collect all the shards of the broken plate, before he dumped it all into a waste bin. The child’s sweet laugh haunting him.

(Y/N) walked side by side with Kylo, both remaining silent, too stunned to talk. She watched him trudge alongside her, his eyes hardened as he was lost deep in thought. She wondered in what, could he be thinking of the illusion as well?(Y/N) contemplated reading his thoughts, but no matter how hard she practiced as a padawan it never truly worked well for her. Kylo had always been gifted when it came to reading thoughts. It made her a bit flustered to think he heard everything she thought, every thought of him. (Y/N) let her head fall back to absorb the warm sun, the pure energy. She closed her eyes and inhaled deeply, walking blindly. She reached out, seeking guidance and reassurance from the Force, asking for a sign. A signal on how to proceed with life, on where to go from here, on why she was here. (Y/N) opened her eyes and the sun instantly blinded her for a second. Blinking the colorful speckles in her vision away, an image flashing forward.

He was young, thirteen, running through the quiet meadows with hot tears being wind whipped against his flushed skin. Ben stumbled and dropped down into the grass, sobbing loudly. He bent down and cradled his face in his hands, down in the grass. A gentle hand was soon placed on his back, automatically rubbing soothing circles. He knew exactly who it was, he had no fear, there was only one person who would chase after him. “It’s okay Ben.” (Y/N) comforted. 

“N-No it’s not, Kol’s right! I’m never going to be good enough.” Ben’s head lifted from his hands, looking utterly distraught. Ben did not have a firm grasp on his emotions yet, which presented itself in moments during his training. A fact the young padawan was ashamed of. 

(Y/N) scoffed, “Yes you will! You’re the strongest Force user here!”Ben glanced over at her, tears messily smeared across his face. “But I’ll never be my uncle or grandfather!” 

(Y/N) sighed, shifting to sit on her knees, trying to be imposing.“You’re right.” She stated blandly and Ben sunk into himself, dejected by her words. “You’ll be better.” He only shook his head in disbelief, tears still falling. He did not believe he would amount to anything. “You’re more than you think of yourself. You’re everything to me.” 

Ben’s sobs hitched at that, “I am?” 

She only smiled and moved to wipe away his tears. “Yes, you’re all I have Ben, but sometimes you need to realize that being Ben Solo is the greatest thing you’ll ever do. “ Ben sniffled and nodded slowly, her words calming him. He moved to place his hands over hers that still rested on his face. (Y/N) winced lightly attempting to play it off as a smile, but Ben saw through her lie and yanked her hands away from his face. Her dominant hand was red, the knuckles bloody and bruised. 

“What happened?” Ben hiccuped.

 “I may have punched Kol… Master Luke won’t be pleased, but it was worth it.”

(Y/N) returned to the sunny scenery to find Kylo standing in front of her, patiently waiting and watching. “What did you see this time?” He questioned, eyes searching hers.

 “You can’t tell?” 

Kylo shook his head, “No you’re not exactly thinking of these moments, they’re just resurfacing in your mind. All I hear or see is your emotions.” 

“How did I feel?” Kylo was silent, his hand coming up to catch a stray teardrop that threatened to fall from her eye. 

“I felt sympathy and sadness, but also gratitude and content.” (Y/N) nodded, observing Kylo who only prompted her for more. 

“It was us in the meadow after I punched Kol.” Kylo stiffened at her words, remembering his vulnerability, remembering her words of comfort. The words he had strayed so far from. The two stared at each other intently, eyes both conveying feelings they could not admit, not yet. “You’re everything to me.” (Y/N) unexpectedly launched herself onto Kylo, wrapping her arms tightly around his neck as she began to cry softly into his shoulder. Kylo hastily returned her hug, his strong arms locking her against him. They were flushed against each other, their auras blending together as they wept. There had been so much heartache interwoven into their lives, tearing them apart, but they had found a way back to each other. Or at the very least, the beginning of the way. (Y/N) felt the will of the Force answering her. This was her sign, they would need to save each other, end all of this. This was their destiny.

After dinner, the two sat on opposite ends of the couch, anxiety lingering in the air between them. Both unsure how to continue, so instead they both silently read. “I’m so sorry about the Strykers on Hosnian, I want you to know I had nothing to do with that.” Kylo spoke suddenly tearing (Y/N)’s pretend focus away from her book. She could not read, not with her spiraling thoughts of him. (Y/N) gulped, she knew Snoke had been in command when the Cataclysm of the system occurred. She could not blame his apprentice, not when he was apologizing. She placed her book down onto the glass table before her and turned to face Kylo. He did the same, his eyes holding a look of pure regret.

 “There’s nothing you could’ve done.” She whispered. 

Kylo let out a deep sigh, “I know, but I keep envisioning you on there when it happened and I would’ve lost you again without ever knowing.” (Y/N) shifted closer, she could not control herself anymore. Every ounce of the Resistance fighter inside her soul gone. 

“But I wasn’t, I’m right here with you.” Kylo nodded glumly, pulling her closer until she knelt right beside him, facing him. 

“I don’t deserve you, I never have.” (Y/N) silenced him by pressing her finger to his lips, moving to rest her cheek against his. They remained quiet, basking in each other’s warmth. Until (Y/N) began to yawn.

“Do you wish to sleep in the master bedroom again tonight? I can sleep on the floor if it makes you more comfortable. I would have done so last night, but you kind of locked me down.” Kylo rambled out nervously. (Y/N) smiled to herself and pulled back to face him once more. 

“Ah yes the most powerful Force user of his generation was secured down by a sleep deprived me.” She teased and watched as his face flushed in embarrassment. 

“Surprising isn't?” (Y/N) laughed and stood from the couch, pulling Kylo up with her. “I’ll take that as a yes.” He whispered down to her and she agreed with a smirk. 

“Yes I’ll go change.” She moved towards the hall before throwing, “And I’m sure we can handle sleeping in the same bed again” over her shoulder. Oh she hoped she could.

Knocking on the white door before entering, (Y/N) was greeted with Kylo in a simple black shirt sitting up in bed. He was on the far side of the bed, the open spot next to him awaiting her. His eyes nervously racked down her figure covered by a medium length gray nightgown. Her hair wild and free, framing her beautiful face. ``Hi.” She mumbled fiddling with the fabric of her nightgown. 

“Hi.” His deep baritone voice radiated warmth through her, pushing her onward. (Y/N) pulled back the dark purple sheets and awkwardly slipped into bed beside him. She moved around for a bit finding comfort on her side facing away from him. “Are you settled?” Kylo questioned, his stare burning through her head. 

“Yes, thank you.” The dim light illuminating the room disappeared, the darkness consuming everything.

(Y/N) in her white flowery dress jumped out of the X-Wing, Ben following suit. The two dashed across the Jedi grounds, heading for her hut. It was still dark, everyone asleep, and unaware of their departure only hours ago. But morning would soon break and they needed to appear as if they never left. “Can you unlace me?” (Y/N) asked once inside her hut. Ben’s fingers hurriedly unlaced the white ribbon on the back of her dress as she removed her crown of flowers. 

“Done.” Ben announced and (Y/N) quickly slipped out of the fabric, leaving her bare to his eyes. “It’s a shame daylight is so soon.” His voice was huskier, inviting. (Y/N) only laughed placing a kiss to her newly betrothed lips. 

She pulled off her ring and handed it to him, “Instead of getting all worked up, how about you find a way for us to secretly wear these, hmm?” Ben groaned in annoyance, accepting her ring. He sat down on the floor next to her small tray and began to thread black leather strips through their rings, fastening them into necklaces. (Y/N) came back to his side, wearing brown robes and her hair braided tightly. 

“For you my wife.” Ben handed her her necklace, the silver band secured at the bottom. 

“Thank you, my husband.” She grinned and slid the necklace over her head, hiding it underneath her tunic perfectly. He did the same as he stood back to his towering height. “There now nobody will know.” A joyful laugh fell from (Y/N)’s lips, she was still full of bliss and love. They captured each other’s lips in a kiss once more, the sun beginning to rise on the horizon. 

“This will prove to be the longest trying day of my life,” Ben complained, “but once it is through, I will make love to you until the stars align.” (Y/N)’s cheeks turned a deep crimson, her words failing her, so she simply pressed a feverish kiss to her husband’s lips as the morning bells began to toll.

(Y/N) was back in the dark bedroom, her body warm and tingling. She felt Kylo shift closer, his fingers crazing her bare arm. “What did you see?” Her cheeks blazed from his question and her memory, silently thankful for the darkness. 

“Um… my father and I running around the farmhouse in Nayli.” She lied, too embarrassed to reveal the truth. She did not feel like disclosing how she saw the hours after their wedding, the promises of later, while lying in bed next to him. 

“That would make sense. I felt love and compassion.” (Y/N) only nodded in the dark, her words failing her. 

She was not sure why it popped back in her mind, perhaps the memory of their sex life surfacing , but the illusion of the child resurfaced as well. “She looked like you.” (Y/N) whispered in the night.

 “Who?” Kylo asked, eyebrows furrowing at the shift in topic. She rolled around to face him, finding Kylo on his side already facing her. The pale moonlight outside illuminating the room just enough that she could make out his eyes. Oh his sweet eyes, the eyes she had seen reflected in the child. 

“The little girl, our little girl.” Kylo was mute as he gaped at her, anguish flickering like hot coals in his eyes. He eventually nodded, mouth still pressed into a solid line. “What was that?” Kylo released his lips, a rough exhale sounding with it. 

“I’m not entirely sure. It wasn’t a premonition, it’s not something I’ve ever heard of. And the fact that we both saw it collectively, I-I just don’t know.” (Y/N) let out a faint noise as a response. “The Force works in mysterious ways.” They shared a knowing look, before she turned to lie on her back. 

For her next words, she could not look him in the eye and say. “It-It would have been nice… that other life.” She confided. (Y/N) felt his hand find hers beneath the covers, holding it tightly. 

“It would’ve been.” Hands still clasped together, the two shifted closer into each other’s embrace, soothing each other into a peaceful sleep.

Taglist:

@benpeggycartersolo​

@2heures​

@thephantomwriter​

@thefandomzoneisdangerous​

@carol-chann​

@gambitsqueen​

@pancakefancake​

@zaneholtzwrites​

@moonmama03

@siren-queen03​

[bloodtroth]

Ok, so I only just discovered your account and I don't know if you still do those fic prompts but, Peonies?? Please?

@instantllamadeputytrash

sorry that this took me like a month. I’m trash and you have my apologies 

Also on AO3!

Peony symbolises bashfulness and compassion. It can also be used to express indignation or shame. It symbolises a happy life, happy marriage, good health and prosperity.

Albus was still rubbing the sleep from his eyes as a knock sounded on the front door. His heart skipped a beat at the sound. Was Gellert here already? He jumped up from his chair, pausing shortly in front of a mirror to fix his hair before rushing to the door. Breathless, Albus eagerly opened it. His enthusiasm dimmed a little as he saw it was not Gellert at the door, but his Great Aunt. Clearing his throat, he awkwardly tugged at his waistcoat and smiled politely to cover his disappointment.

"Good morning, Miss Bagshot, is there something I can help you with?"

Bathilda smiled. "Hello, Albus dear, I was wondering if I could come in for a spot of tea."

Frowning in confusion, Albus nodded his head and moved aside to give her room to sweep past him. Bathilda walked straight to the kitchen, Albus rushing after her to pull her a chair. He pointed his wand at the still warm teapot and floated it and two sets of cups onto the table, the milk and honey following after them. Then he sat down and picked up his teacup.

"Thank you, dear," Bathilda said as she reached for her own teacup, stirring in some honey. She tapped the teaspoon against the rim and placed it back on the plate. Lifting the cup, she took a small sip and let out a pleased hum.

Albus sipped at his own tea, looking at her curiously. He couldn't help but wonder at her uncharacteristic visit. A flash of uncertainty went through him. Had something happened to Gellert? His fingers tightened around the cup in his hands. Worried, he blurted out, "Is something wrong, Miss Bagshot?

"Oh, yes, you must think me terribly rude, just bursting in like this," Bagshot tutted.

"Not at all," Albus countered, "but I must admit I'm curious as to the reason for your visit." Worried that he would seem rude, he added, "Not that you aren't always welcome."

"Don't you worry, dear, I'm the one who is being rude," Bathilda said and patted him on the arm. Reaching out into her skirt pocket, she said, "I found this when I was doing the laundry. It was in Gellert's breast pocket." She pulled out a letter and offered it to Albus.

Curious, Albus reached for the parchment. When he held it in his hands, he recognised it at once. It was one of the letters he had sent to Gellert. He flicked his eyes quickly through it, heat rising to his cheeks as he realised exactly what type of letter it was. His fingers wrinkled the parchment as embarrassment soon changed to alarm. Had she already informed the authorities? If so, they had to leave now. As powerful as they were, he would still rather not take their chances against trained Aurors.

"Miss Bagshot, please, I assure you-"

"You need to be more careful," Bathilda said, interrupting him.

Albus blinked, words dying on his tongue.

Bathilda leaned towards him, a stern look in her eyes. "Do you have any idea what could have happened to you both if it had been anyone but me who found this?" she asked, reprimand clear on her tone.

Mutely, Albus nodded his head.

"I have no intention of alerting the Ministry. I've never believed in any of that unnatural nonsense,” she assured him, waving the thought away as if it was an irritating fly, “What I do know is that you two are good for each other. And that's all that matters."

Albus opened his mouth, unsure of what to say. Finally, he said, his voice cracking "I- I love him." It was the first time he had verbalised his feelings. Shamefully, he felt his eyes prickling with tears. Turning his face away, he wiped his hand across his eyes. He had not realised how relieving it would be to tell someone else. He had not realised how freeing it felt not to have to hide.

Bathilda reached across the table and took his hand in hers, patting it in a maternal fashion. "I know." Smiling gently at him, she said, "You're a good boy, Albus. You're brilliant, and I have no doubt you will be alright if you'll just make sure to be careful."

Albus nodded. "Thank you,” he said, after clearing his throat, "I promise we will be more careful."

Bathilda smiled at him and squeezed his hand one more time before letting go and reaching for her purse. She pulled out a book and handed it to him, "Here, I brought this for you."

Curious, Albus took it. It was called 95 Ways to Turn Your Garden into a Haven by U.N. Owen. Bemused, he turned it over in hands, searching for a hidden meaning. He glanced at Bathilda, who nodded at his wand. Albus picked it up and tapped it against the book. “Revelio.”

The letters in the cover of the book melted away, leaving it blank. Curious, Albus opened the book. He leafed through a few pages before he realised what exactly it was that he was holding. It seemed to be a book containing stories of people like him and Gellert from throughout history. Fascinated, he quickly skimmed through the whole tome, gaping in surprise at few of the famous names he saw there. Astonished, Albus finally looked up from the book. "This is- how did you get this?"

"I’m a historian, Albus, I can get my hands on all sorts of things,” Bathilda answered, giving him a mischievous smile that instantly made her look twenty years younger.

Albus looked back down on the book, caressing the smooth leather detailing. "And why are you giving it to me?"

Bathilda smiled, her eyes full of sympathy. "Because no one, my dear, wants to feel alone in this world.”

Moved by the kind gesture, Albus whispered, "Thank you."

They sat in companionable silence for a while, Bathilda sipping her tea and Albus browsing through the pages of the book. He looked up as suddenly something occurred to him. "Does Gellert know? That you found the letter?" he asked.

Bathilda snorted. "No, you know how he is. I wouldn't have been surprised if he had Obliviated me on the spot," she chortled, seeming to be wholly unconcerned by the notion.

Albus hid a smile. That did sound like something Gellert would do; he was somewhat prone to overreaction. The smile on his lips froze as he caught the words at the page he was currently reading.

Blutpakt (eng. blood pact, also known as blood troth)

This ancient German ceremony was often used by male soldiers to tie themselves to each other. Historians believe it was used to forge military alliances, but in truth, it was much more meaningful than that. It was used to tie two souls to each other, and as long as the binding held, neither party could do the other harm. The pact made the participants as close two souls could be, and it was rumoured to last even beyond the veil of death. It was a bond more intimate than the bond of blood or even the bond of matrimony. It comes as no surprise that this ritual was often used by lovers.

The text was followed by instructions on how to perform the ritual, although it said nothing of how one would go about undoing one. Not that Albus could imagine wanting to destroy something like it. He glanced at Bathilda, who was still sipping her tea, her attention seemingly focused on the view outside the window. Looking at the page again, Albus marked it covertly, feeling a warm feeling of anticipation growing inside of him. He and Gellert had been talking about making an unbreakable vow, but this- this looked like a much better alternative.

                                                        ----

“Gellert, take a look at this,” Albus said, handing him the book Bathilda had given him, face up, the book open on the page where he had found the ritual.

Gellert took the book, quickly skimming through the indicated page. When he was done, he stared at the page for a moment longer, a strange expression flashing in his eyes before a bright, excited smile grew on his lips. Turning to Albus, he exclaimed, “This is perfect! Where did you find it?”

Albus hesitated for a moment, knowing full well what was coming next. Eventually, he said, “Your Aunt gave it to me.”

Gellert’s excitement died away, replaced by confusion before changing into a growing alarm. “My- “he choked out, his fear rapidly turning into a rage born out of terror. Reaching for his wand, he jumped on to his feet.

Sensing the coming explosion, Albus yanked Gellert down by his arm. “Gellert, calm down,” Albus snapped. When it looked like Gellert would just shake off his hold and storm out to do whatever idiotic thing he was planning, Albus asked, “Do you honestly think that your Aunt would give it to me if she had a problem with us?”

Gellert seemed to think it over for a moment, taking deep breaths to try and get himself under control. Finally, rational thought won over his anger, and he slumped on the ground. “I just- I do not want to lose you,” he explained, his hand gripping Albus’ arm tightly. Albus smiled and reached out to smooth out Gellert’s hair. Gellert pressed into his touch, his eyes trained on Albus’ face. After a moment, he asked in a low voice, “How did she find out?”

“Here,” said Albus, handing him the letter from his breast pocket. Gellert flicked his eyes trough it, a faint blush rising on to his skin as he, too, realised what kind of letter it exactly was. “You left it in your pocket. You- we need to be more careful.”

Indignation coloured Gellert’s face. "We shouldn't have to be careful," he hissed, his grip on Albus’ arm growing painful.

"No, we shouldn't,” Albus snapped, ripping his arm from Gellert’s hold. Sensing Gellert’s anger coming back, he went back to caressing his hair, and he softened his tone as he continued, “but as the matters stand now, we have to be."

Gellert rose up on his elbows, dislocating Albus’ hand on his hair. Reaching out, he cupped Albus’ head within his palms. His eyes were burning with the last embers of his rage as he said, his voice serious as if he was making a vow, "I won't allow anyone to take you from me."

Albus lay his hands on top of Gellert’s and, tilting his head, leaned in the last few inches separating them. He kept the kiss chaste, rubbing the tension he could feel in Gellert’s hands away with his thumbs. Slowly, Gellert relaxed, the stress melting away, and he leaned closer, resting his forehead against Albus.

“I suppose there is only one question left to ask,” he said, his voice low and intimate, his breath brushing against Albus’ lips.

Albus frowned. “What is it?”

Gellert retrieved his hands and reached for the book that was lying next to them, face down. Smiling mischievously, he turned it over, handed it to Albus and asked, “Will you marry me?”

Albus smiled and ducked his head. “Of course,” he answered, taking Gellert’s free hand and bringing it to his lips.

[kangaroo-r00]

Burning Memories

(A/N) This took a while but I’m pretty happy with it. Have whump.

Taglist: @melasong, @writerwithdepression, @normallyemma, @kitnkas, @iris-the-asparagus, @here-be-becquerel, @maybalator (tell me if you want to be added to the taglist)

The dry air he breathed in burned a way down his throat and into his lungs, causing harsh, violent coughs to wrack his body, shoulders shaking and lungs spasming. His sore throat wasn't really helping matters either. His eyes seared, pained, irritated tears streaming down his cheeks as he choked.

Stifling smoke... clogged airway... scalding doorknob… oppressing heat beating down on him... cooking flesh...

The temperature was frigid, biting temperature digging its claws into his face, little pricks of cold registering in his brain. Good. That was what he needed. The cold air would blow away the phantom pain on his face. He had left his mask on his bedside table, exposing his scarred face to only himself and the night air. Normally he rarely ever took his mask off—he quite liked the pressure and safety—but it was nice to just breathe every now and then. It felt wonderful to just... be himself.

An unreachable place under his scars tingled annoyingly and he itched at it absentmindedly, knowing it'd only make them worse. He'd keep scratching until he ended up tearing the white and pink tissue again because he didn't know when to stop. The sensations he felt weren't really there, he reminded himself. The skin there was too damaged to feel something as trivial as itches, but that didn't stop his brain from fooling him.

The front door opening behind him caught him off guard. He startled, sweeping his hair forward to fall in curtains in front of his face, shielding his scars from immediate view.

"Yeah?" He asked, his voice raspy and throat tight. He hoped whoever was behind him didn't point out how quiet and strained his voice sounded. It probably was going to be gone soon after all those shows and practices he did the week. Not to mention his brain playing another, crueler trick on him, reminding him of how weak and faint his voice was after the—

"What are you doing out here? You will catch the sick."

Marvin chose to ignore Schneep's first question, huffing in exasperation. "I'm not gonna get sick, doc."

The air shifted and settled as the other sat down on the top step, rubbing his hands together. "Is a bit nippy out tonight."

"Then you should go inside." It was clear with the blunt bite in the magician's voice that he didn't want Schneep out here with him.

Just like Marvin had ignored his first question, he waved the solution off. "Why are you out here? Is late." That was the annoying thing about Schneep. He was almost—if not more so—stubborn than himself. But two could play it that game.

"I'm aware," his tone was clipped. He wasn't going to get much else out of him.

There was a beat of silence, and Marvin found himself hoping that Schneep had just given up already.

"You are not this irate often," he noted clinically.

"Shocker," he mumbled in mock shock to himself. He felt exposed—vulnerable like when the mask had been torn from his face. He didn't like it one bit. Scooching further away from Schneep, Marvin turned his face to the opposite side. It was a clear signal to leave.

"I refuse to leave until you tell me what's wrong."

The words forced his seething anger even higher, magic bubbling underneath his skin. Everything felt so hot and his mind couldn't focus on anything but the surging in his veins and the rushing blood in his ears. It took all he had to keep his magic contained.

"You will," he growled. His voice shook with barely contained rage. "You don't have to fix everything."

"I am not looking to fix," Schneep said adamantly. "I am here to help."

Marvin was tired of all this. Unlike usual, he didn't really feel like getting into a long lasting argument. He rested his head against the wood rail and muttered, "I don't want your "help.""

"You may not want it but you look to need it."

Marvin loathed to admit it but (like usual it appeared) the doctor was right. He allowed a long pause of silence to pass them by as he struggled to find the proper words. He didn't want to admit to needing help nor did he want to spill all his problems on the other.

"I just... need to breathe." His lungs were full of phantom smoke, burning his chest, throat, nostrils and eyes.

"Ja?"

"It's hard to breathe; it hurts," he confessed softly. "Sometimes, I mean."

"Ah."

He scrubbed viciously at his eyes with the heels of his palms, trying to banish the pained tears threatening to fall down his cheeks. He wanted the burning in his eyes to go away.

"Can I see?"

Marvin knew what he meant by the question. The other asked every now and then when he wasn't feeling up to par and the magician turned the doctor down every single time. He'd never shown his face to anyone other than his parents, his grandmother, and Jackie (although that had been an accident). As much as he hated to let others see him crying (and his face), he was feeling unusually... weak trusting this night.

He was silent for so long he was sure Schneep had assumed he'd ignored him before: "promise you won't look away." It was the one thing Marvin feared about showing other people his face without any makeup or mask covering up most the damage. That they wouldn't be able to look at him like they used to be able to, knowing what lied under the mask. He didn't want people's ability to look him in the eyes to be affected.

"I assure you, I've seen worse." The statement is painfully blunt, but it's Schneep's way of saying he wouldn't look away... even if he technically didn't promise.

He opted to not speak for now, giving his voice a short break. Shifting, turning to face Schneep a little, he brushed his thick hair to the side. Though he avoided mirrors like the plague when his mask was off, he still had every scar burned into his memory much like how they were burned into his skin.

The left side of his face was much worse than the right, all the way from his forehead to his chin was skin tighter than anywhere else with some bunches of skin raising up higher than others. What once had been a bright, irritated red had long since faded into a dull pink. The burns on his left side continued down on the same side of his neck (which his hair often hid well enough) while the right side looked as healthy as could be. The right side of his face was merely white skin that blended into his normal healthy skin. One of his eyes looked like he was permanently squinting, the skin having been pulled a little too tight around the crease. The only reason they looked somewhat decent now is because of all the skin they borrowed from various other parts of his body to pull over and protect the healing flesh. He was lucky his jaw and lips healed up decent enough but it was sometimes still hard to eat, jaw straining, sore, and aching strong enough that food and liquids fell from his lips.

That's what they all said: that he had been lucky. He was lucky that it wasn't worse; that he hadn't died. As well as the burned skin, he originally had a huge bald spot at the top of his head where the hair had burned off but it wasn't hard to move and reintroduce air follicles—it's why his hair was thinner in some parts than others.

And that wasn't even counting all the other scars he had—on his face and on the rest of his body. Scars from messing up knife throwing tricks, magic spells and potions literally blowing up in his face, and those three fucking whiskers on each side of his cheeks that the twisted parasite carved into him a few years back.

To Schneep's credit, he didn't look away or grimace in disgust. Instead he simply stared, eyes raking over all the disfigurations and scars like he was committing it to memory. "Burns?"

Marvin cringed. He never really did like the word "burn." It just sounded so painful. "Most of 'em, yeah."

"Old, right? Nothing I need to look over?"

"Most recent is from a couple years back. They're fine."

"Do they hurt still?" The magician really should've realized Schneep would ask all kinds of questions. It was his job to know all the background details and care for others and he couldn't really turn it off well. Normally his questions got him into some kind of fight with Marvin but today wasn't that day. 

"Phantom pain. Otherwise... no." His voice was beginning to give out, cracks becoming more prevalent and strength failing. He had to lower it to a whisper to prevent it from disappearing completely.

"What's that ones?"

Marvin furrowed his eyebrows. "Which ones?"

The doctor pointed at his face. Helpful.

"I can't see there."

Schneep leaned forward, glasses perched on the tip of his nose. Marvin froze up, body stiffening as cold fingertips ghosted a horizontal line across his cheek. "This."

It felt... weird to have someone touching his face, especially his scars. He himself didn't even do it often.

He wrinkled his nose at the strange sensation. "Oh. Happened before you moved in with us."

Glitchy laughter and mocking taunts. Untappable magic and reckless confidence. Broken mask and shorn hair. Silver and dark red.

"And?"

"And what?"

He huffed exasperatedly. "What is it? Not a burn."

"It's not," Marvin agreed, teeth finally chattering together and breaking up his words. It'd taken quite a bit to cool down the magic racing in his veins.

"You're cold. We should go inside and get warm, yes?" Schneep asked after observing Marvin curl in on himself a little more.

He sighed heavily, taking one more moment to enjoy the bone chilling cold settling in his bones before nodding jerkily. He'd probably been out here for too long already. The only reason he hadn't froze was because of the magic and blood pumping to keep him at a stable temperature. "Yeah. Sounds nice."

Schneep pushed himself to his feet and dusted the snowflakes off himself. He offered a hand out to Marvin and he accepted it, letting the doctor help drag him up.

"Come. You've spent too long out here, mein Freund."

Once inside the doctor grabbed a blanket off the back of the couch and tossed it at the other, barely taking the time to make sure he caught it before puttering to the kitchen to find the packets of hot chocolate. Marvin occupied himself with burrowing further into the blanket, tangled hair covering half his face still. Small bursts of magic helped heat the insides of his veins, sending faint warmth rushing throughout his body.

After a few minutes, Schneep returned with two mugs of hot chocolate in his hands. He wordlessly handed one to him and settled down next to him, leaning against his side to soak up heat.

"Jackie's right." He rasped. "You're a leech."

"Arsch mit ohren," he mumbled, wiggling into a better position.

"I feel like you just insulted me."

"Is because I did."

The hot chocolate soothed his throat, sending warm tingles down throat all the way to his stomach. The packets have been expired for a few years and tasted stale but it helped.

"Thanks."

The only response was a tired hum.

Schneep's mug was set on the coffee table as he brought his legs up onto the couch and leaned heavily into his side, face pressed against his shoulder.

"It's a little early for you."

"You're warm," came the sleepy mumble.

Marvin readjusted his position, forcing the doctor to move with an upset, unintelligible mumble so his neck was resting against the arm of the couch, feet nearly reaching the other arm. Schneep was now draped across his chest and legs, head resting in the crook of his shoulder. Marvin patted Schneep's head and received a content sigh in return.

There was something nice about not hiding.

(A/N) Haha I can’t believe I never mentioned Marv has problems breathing and speaking sometimes. (Those of you who read “Lucky Diamonds” know what’s up)

[animefan299110]

Offers and Threats

Hey guys! I know I said that the next chapter would involve Christmas and Birthdays, but trust me, this chapter will help in the future in another. Also, I had to tone down on the adorableness and cuteness for this chapter. And again, I do not own Boku no Hero Academia, its characters, or its locations. They are all owned by Kohei Horikoshi, Jump Comics, and Funimation.

It was a beautiful Wednesday afternoon in the month of November at U.A. High and Class 1-A were gathering their things for the end of the day. As they were preparing to see the little bundle of joy that called them 'Mama' and 'Papa', Ochako and Midoriya were both wondering about what they should serve Eri for dinner that night. They had put out some ground beef the night before in the fridge, so that left how to include vegetables and how to create it in a way that would surprise her.

"Maybe we could try meatloaf?" Midoriya asked before he dismissed it, knowing that Eri had that dish last week.

"What about tacos?" Ochako asked before she realized that Eri would probably never touch another one of those after the incident back during the beginning of the month. One Tuesday, Class 1-A decided to have tacos for dinner, to which Eri was more than excited for. However, things had taken a turn for the worse that night. As it turned out, Mineta had tried to pull a prank on Kaminari by putting hot sauce in his taco. Unfortunately, the taco had accidently ended up on Eri's plate. Needless to say, Eri ended up crying from the burning sensation and Mineta ended up sleeping outside, his face all black and blue from the smacks he received from Ochako and the girls, as well as from Kaminari and Bakugou.

"How about..." Midoriya began, but stopped when he noticed that Mr. Aizawa was standing right in front of them with a note in his hand.

"Midoriya. Uraraka." He said as he handed them the note. "The principal would like to speak with you both in his office."

Midoriya and Ochako looked at each other in surprise; neither one of them had done anything wrong in the past few months, unless you counted Midoriya and Bakugou's second fight before they began their internships and met Eri. As they made their way to the principal's office, they began to wonder the worst.

"You don't think something bad happened to Eri, do you?" Ochako asked as they neared the principal's office.

"No." Midoriya said simply. "If something had happened to her, Mr. Aizawa would have told us himself."

After a few minutes, the two students arrived outside the principal's office. Taking a deep breath, both entered to find the little talking animal standing in front of them.

"Ah, Midoriya. Uraraka." Nezu said as he raised his right paw and waved. "How nice of you to join us."

'Us?' Both students thought as they glanced around. 'Who else is…?' Their thoughts were soon answered when they saw two people to their left.

One was a large, burly man in his 40s with bulging muscles that were shown through his business suit. He had a scar over his right eye, had a tattoo of a dragon's head on the other side of his face, and wore an expression of utmost anger on his face. It was enough to have both Midoriya and Uraraka shaking from shear intimidation.

The other was a man in his 60s, bound in a wheelchair. He had wispy white hair and a somewhat athletic frame for someone his age. Even though his skin was wrinkled, Uraraka and Midoriya could still make out the various tattoos on his arms. They also noticed that the pinkie on his right hand was much smaller than the other fingers, as though it was crudely cut off. 'Yakuza.' They both thought.

"You must be Izuku Midoriya and Ochako Uraraka." The old man asked as the bigger man wheeled his chair over to the two students. The old man than gave the best bow he could, while Midoriya and Uraraka themselves gave bows out of respect. "My name is Shinobu Noshimuri. This is my escort, Raiki Watanabe." He added as he gestured to the man behind him. Watanabe only grunted in response. "Perhaps," Noshimuri continued, "it would be best if we could all have a seat." At this, the five of them made their way into the conference room next door. Once inside, Noshimuri and Watanabe sat on one end of the table while Midoriya and Uraraka sat on the other. Nezu sat within the middle between them.

"Now then," Noshimuri began, "you are probably wondering why I wished to speak with you two." Uraraka and Midoriya only nodded in response. Giving a small smile, Noshimuri said, "Lately, it has come to my attention that you and a few other heroes fought against my old syndicate, The Eight Precepts of Death. Also," he continued, "It has also come to my attention that you also aided in the rescue of a young girl named Eri, to whom I hold and care for dearly."

"Forgive me, Mr. Noshimuri," Midoriya said upon hearing his 'daughter's' name, "but how exactly do you know all of this?"

"Well, to tell you the truth, my boy," Noshimuri said with a sense of confidence, "I was the Capo for said group and was the teacher of Kai Chisaki, until a few months ago when I fell ill and gave control of the group to him. And to answer your question about Eri…she is my granddaughter."

At this revelation, Uraraka and Midoriya's eyes widen in shock. They had heard that Eri had a grandfather, but they never knew that he was alive and a former leader of the group that was holding her captive.

"When I got out of the hospital," Noshimuri said, not noticing the change in the teens' faces, "I had heard about what Chisaki had done to both the organization and to my little Eri. Needless to say, I was shocked and appalled by the details. So it's safe to say that I showed no remorse when I saw on the news that they found his burned remains. A perfect example of justice being served, if I do say so myself."

"B-But…" Uraraka stuttered slightly, still in shock by the previous announcement, "Wh-What does this have to do with Deku and I?"

"Ah, yes," Noshimuri said as he made a hand motion toward Watanabe, who picked up two black briefcases and placed them on the table. "I wish to commend you both for taking my granddaughter into your home. From what Nezu has told me," he added as he gestured toward the biped animal, "Eri has been taken good care of and that she has been extremely happy thanks to you two. For that, I am forever grateful. So, I wish to reward you both for all that you have done." After he motioned with his hand once more, Watanabe pushed the two briefcases toward Uraraka and Midoriya. As they caught said briefcases, the two students felt a strong force surge through their bodies, as a way of indicating Watanabe's strength.

When they opened the briefcases, Midoriya and Uraraka's eyes widen in shock: both cases were stuffed with cash. Chuckling at their amazement, Noshimuri said, "Consider what's in those briefcases compensation for any expenses you may have lost from raising Eri, plus a little extra to show my appreciation for what you've done. All in all, each briefcase contains 120 million yen."

Uraraka and Midoriya couldn't believe what they were seeing; 120 million yen was being given to them for taking care of Eri. Midoriya's mind raced at the thought of having all that money. He could pay off an outstanding student payments. He could give some to his mother as a way of saying thanks for raising him all those years when he was quirkless and had nearly lost hope of ever becoming a superhero. He could pay for Eri's tuition; she could go to the best public colleges in all of Japan!

Uraraka mind was going through a similar process. Not only could this be good for both them and Eri, but she could give a majority of this money to her parents. It was always her goal to become a hero and earn enough money to give her parents the life they deserved. The money in front of her could be used to kick start that goal. "So," she said as she glanced away to look at Noshimuri, "This is all for us?"

"Indeed," he said before a look of seriousness spread across his face, "if you were to return Eri to me."

Any hopes and dreams that formulated into Uraraka and Midoriya's minds were immediately shattered when those words came out of Noshimuri's mouth. Slowly, they looked up with impassive looks on their faces. "Give…Eri…back to you?" Midoriya asked slowly.

"Indeed." Noshimuri said with a nod. "She is my granddaughter, after all. Though I can assure you, she will be placed in a better home and will be treated well. When available, we could even set days when she could meet you two for a day."

Uraraka and Midoriya looked down at the money, still untouched. With this, they could use to help not just themselves, but their parents as well. Goals could be met, better living arrangements could be made, and even tuition wouldn't be a problem.

But it would mean having to give up perhaps the most precious thing in their lives. Eri was a child who suffered so much at a young age, and yet who always had a smile on her face whenever she made someone happy. She was selfless, caring, obedient, and was willing to help in any way she could. And then, there was the promise they made to her months ago:

"It's okay, Eri. We're here. You just had a bad dream, that's all."

"But….But it seemed so real."

"Believe us, Eri, we will never leave you, not in a million years."

As the two looked at each other, they both knew their answer.

"We're sorry, Mr. Noshimuri." Midoriya said as he and Ochako closed their cases and pushed them toward the old man. "But we cannot accept these terms."

"If the problem is the money," Noshimuri said as Watanabe took the briefcases, "then I can surely offer you le-"

"The problem isn't about the money." Uraraka interrupted as she and Midoriya rose from their chairs. "It's about Eri. We cannot let you take her away from us."

A long silence loomed through the air as the two students stared at the criminal and his underling. After a while, Noshimuri rubbed the bridge of his nose and said, "I don't think you two understand what I said to you earlier. Eri is my granddaughter; I am her only living relative. Legally, she belongs with me."

"Oh, believe us, we understood." Midoriya said. "We know she's your granddaughter and we know she belongs with you." It was at that moment that his impassive expression turned dark as he glared at Noshimuri. "But do you honestly think we would give her up to you, a known head of a Yakuza gang that consisted of villains?"

"A man who turned his own flesh and blood over to a bunch of criminals so that they could do experiments on her." Ochako stated, her glare as equal as Midoriya's. "A man who knew the monster that he not only took under his wing, but also performed horrid experiment on a little girl."

"And you expect us to believe that you'll just put her in a safer environment than she was before we took her in?" Midoriya asked as he clenched his fists in anger. "You'll probably just leave her in the hands of others who just want to experiment on her even more. So if you think we're just going to accept your dirty money and give Eri away, then you can forget about it."

Noshimuri's once soft gaze changed into an angry glare. "I would be careful with what you say next." He growled deeply. "I am not asking you; I am telling you: if you do not give me my granddaughter, I will-"

"That is enough." Nezu said finally as he stood up from his chair and onto the table. "I will not tolerate any threats made to my students. And I must agree with Mr. Midoriya and Ms. Uraraka." He added as he slowly made his way to Noshimuri. "You may be Eri's legitimate family member, but you are also a criminal. The police entrusted U.A. High School to look after Eri and, thus, protect her from any harm that may come to her. In turn, I entrusted Mr. Midoriya and Ms. Uraraka to look after her and care for her. And from what I have heard from their fellow classmates and Eri's teacher, they have done a much better job in raising her than you or anyone else from your organization had ever done."

"Tough talk coming from a flea-infested, walking, talking, rodent freak." Watanabe finally said in a deep, menacing voice.

"This coming from the human gorilla." Nezu retorted, brushing the insult off as if it were dust on his suit. "Sure, you could try and have your assistant kill the three of us, Mr. Noshimuri," He continued, turning his attention back to the crime lord, "but I will remind you that this school houses some of the finest future heroes as well as many pro heroes who would be more than willing to take you both down in an instant. And one or two students aren't against killing a criminal." He added, making a slight reference to Bakugou. "So do us all a favor. Take your filthy money, take your lackey, and get off this campus."

Watanabe gnashed his teeth together, but Noshimuri held up a hand to silence him. Without another word, Watanabe placed both briefcases on his back and pushed his boss' wheelchair away from the table. As they reached the door, however, Noshimuri shot one last look of hatred toward Midoriya and Uraraka. "You'll both regret not taking me up on my offer." He growled through gritted teeth. "This isn't over." And with that, the crime boss and his lackey exited the room.

A few seconds of silence passed in the room as Midoriya, Uraraka, and Nezu's eyes were still fixated on the door. Soon, though, their expressions soon softened and Midoriya and Uraraka fell back into their seats. "You both did the right thing." Nezu said as he stood in front of them. "It takes true love and care of a person to deny an offer that incredible."

"Yeah," Midoriya said, "but what do we do now? We just made enemies with a Yakuza boss whose Eri's grandfather."

"I do have a few suggestions." Nezu said. "First, it might be best to have Eri spend some nights in Ms. Uraraka's room from time to time so as to not have her sleeping quarters be routine. Second, it would best to not let Eri go off campus for the rest of the month, lest someone tries to abduct her. Perhaps let her have playdates with that Satsuki girl at your dormitory. Finally, it would be best not to tell Eri about what was discussed here today. She is still recovering from her experience and we would not want any wounds to open up. If all of those seem reasonable, you are both dismissed and may head back to your dormitory."

Midoriya and Uraraka nodded; those did seem like fair suggestions. With that, they packed up their belongings and made their way out of the room. "I meant what I said earlier." Nezu said as the students reached the door. "About the fact that you two are raising Eri better than that dreadful organization. Even though it may be a while until Eri fully heals mentally, she seems to enjoy her life thanks to you two and the rest of Class 1-A." Midoriya and Uraraka both smiled at the principal for his kind words. And with that, they exited the room. 'I just hope they remember that Eri's stay is only temporary.' Nezu thought sadly as he watched them leave.

Neither Midoriya nor Uraraka spoke another word about the incident until they got to the 1-A dormitory. "We should probably tell the others about this so that they can be aware as well." Midoriya said.

"Agreed." Uraraka responded. "But we should wait until after we put Eri to bed." Midoriya nodded, and with that, both students entered the building only to be met by the rest of their classmates.

"What happened?" Momo asked in concern. "We heard that you both went to the principal's office."

"Was it about the hot sauce incident?" Mineta asked nervously.

"Did it have something to do with your grades?" Iida asked with annoyance. "I know you like spending time with Eri, but if you both wish to become heroes, your grades must come first."

"Mama? Papa?" A small voice asked. The class parted to reveal Eri, who was staring up at Midoriya and Uraraka with concern. "What's wrong?"

Both students smiled softly as Uraraka placed her hand on Eri's head. "It's nothing, sweetie." She replied. "Have you eaten yet?" When the little girl shook her head, Uraraka took her hand and led her into the kitchen.

Midoriya started to follow, but not before turning to his fellow classmates with a look of seriousness on his face. "Uraraka and I will explain everything later." He said quietly so as to not let Eri hear him. "We're asking that you all wait until Eri has been put to bed." And with that, he took his leave.

The rest of the evening continued without any incidents. After dinner, Ochako asked Eri if she would like to spend a few nights in her room, as a nice change of pace. Eri was more than happy to sleep in Uraraka's room from time to time, whispering to her that there was so much All Might memorabilia a person could intake or see. At around 8pm, Uraraka and Midoriya took Eri upstairs to bed. After tucking her in, they each gave her a good-night kiss before they closed the door.

After the easy part of the evening was done, they made their way down the stairs until they reached the living room, where they found the rest of Class 1-A staring back at them. "So," Bakugou said in an annoyed tone, "are you gonna tell us what happened or not?"

And with that, Midoriya and Uraraka told them everything, but in a quiet tone so as to not wake up Eri. About Noshimuri and that he was Eri's grandfather, how he offered them 120 million yen each in exchange for Eri, how they rejected his offer, and how he threatened them before he left. As they finished their story, they glanced around to see mixed reactions. Iida, Shouto, and a few others were shaking their heads in either shock or disgust. Momo, Mina, Aoyama, Tsuyu, and others had a hand over their mouths in shock. Mineta and a few just stood there with blank expressions on their faces. Bakugou and Kirishima, on the other hand, were clenching their fists in anger.

"Goddamn bastard." Bakugou said with a snarl. "Thinking that a little kid could be easily bought. You should've slammed his face into a wall, Deku." He added as he directed his glare at Midoriya.

"We didn't want things to get out of hand, Kacchan." Midoriya said calmly. "Besides, if we did attack Noshimuri, we would be proving that we're no better than him." Bakugou only replied with a scoff.

"Though I will agree with the principal." Iida said as he placed a hand on Midoriya and Uraraka's shoulders. "You both did the right thing about not accepting that money." At this, the rest of the class nodded in agreement.

"So what do we do now about Eri?" Mina asked with concern.

"Nezu told us that it would be best to keep an eye on Eri and her surroundings for the time being." Uraraka said. "He also said to not let her off-campus for the rest of the month. If she wants to spend time with friends like Satsuki, then they can hang out here." She added as she glanced at Tsuyu, who nodded in agreement.

"But the two of us cannot do this alone." Midoriya chimed in. "We need all of you to help out in any way you can. After the Simulation Joint and Training Camp invasions, we can't be too careful. Noshimuri has powerful connections in the underworld. Heck, Overhaul had connections with the League of Villains. We have to be on guard."

All the other students nodded in agreement; by angering the former head of the organization that held Eri captive, they had just made a whole new list of enemies. "Now then," Iida said after a while, "I'm sure the two of you are exhausted after what happened. I would thus suggest that you both head up to bed."

Midoriya and Uraraka both nodded; it had indeed been a rough day for them. Silently, they made their way upstairs. When they made it to the second floor, Midoriya turned to Uraraka. "Hey Uraraka," he said, "Mind if I accompany you to your room?" It was then that Uraraka's face turned a bright shade of pink. Noticing what she may have interpreted from what he said, Midoriya's face turned an equal shade as he waved his hands back and forth nervously. "I-I-I j-j-just wanted t-t-t-to check on Eri, that's all!" He stammered. At this explanation, Uraraka calmed down. With a nod, they both made their way up the stairs.

When they reached Uraraka's room, they opened the door slowly so as to not wake Eri up. They glanced in to see her curled up under her blanket, cuddling up with the Midoriya plushie that Momo had made for her a week ago. The memory of that day still brought a smile to both Midoriya and Uraraka's faces. When Koji had shown Eri the teddy bear and giraffe plushies in his room, he offered to let her have one of them. When she kindly refused, Momo offered to make one for her of her choosing. After thinking for a while, Eri asked if she could make a plushie of Midoriya, which was followed by a collection of "DAAAAAW"s from the girls. Midoriya, at that time, didn't know whether to blush in embarrassment or cry tears of joy.

Midoriya and Uraraka couldn't help but smile. They may have made a new enemy in Shinobu Noshimuri, but that would be an issue for another time. Right now, Eri was safe and happy with her life and with people who loved and cared for her. As they continued to watch Eri smile in her sleep, they remembered another reason why they turned down Noshimuri's offer. She may have been worth only 240 million yen to him, but to Midoriya and Uraraka…she was priceless.

And with that, Offers and Threats comes to an end. Thanks for reading this chapter! Again, this will help as an explanation in a future chapter. Hope you all enjoyed it. I promise that the next chapter will be the Christmas and birthday chapter.

By the way, I met Justin Briner (the English voice actor for Midoriya) at Boston Comic Con on Saturday, August 11th. When asked what he thought about the IzuOcha ship, these were his words: "Yeah, man. I am all for those two as a couple." . . . . I thought I was going to explode with happiness. THE VOICE OF MIDORIYA IS IN SUPPORT OF THE SHIP! SOMEONE GRAB THE CHAMPAGNE!

Ha! But in all seriousness, that's awesome to know he supports it. I also got a photo with him (with Christopher Sabat [All Might] photobombing us!).

And kudos to Black Fuego Rio and Discord user Igneel Seishouki for editing this chapter.

Anyway, don't forget to favorite, comment and follow for more.

Until the next chapter, this is AnimeFan299110, telling you all to go beyond...PLUS ULTRA!

[sonipanda]

Oh look who it is? Gatta is making a bit more of an appearance aren’t they? Slowly working their way onto my page once again!

So today is a nice sunny day, skies are cloudy but I see the blue and it’s time to finally start dressing a little more Spring/Summer appropriate! I hate having to wear clothes that scream Winter, so I’m a little happier today!

Now just to let you know that I was shooting in different lighting, so you will see some images with flash added, some without and some looking quite pasty as that’s all daylight.

The Spec

Colour: Golden

Size: Small

Denier: 15

Materials: 84% Polyamide, 16% Elastane

Price: £9.05

Website: Amazon – Gatta Discrete Seamless 15 Denier Tights – brand new

  My Outfit

Now remember I did a similar outfit around Christmas; well this time I made it more bolder and summery with a white tank top paired with a glitter gold pencil skirt and I added my chunky platform heels to create some length. I also added my thin blazer to make it more work-appropriate and not like Imma go out partying!

I left my hair down and added small studs once again as I wanted to keep it quite low key.

My Deets

Tank Top: H&M

Skirt: H&M

Tights: Gatta

Shoes: New Look

Blazer: Jennyfer

  The Review

From The Website: Gatta® discrete 15 denier seamless tights, Item. Innovative Ladies Tights seamless thanks to special seamless technology.

The tights because it’s part of the seamless Höschen invisible under the thermal Outerwear wear

Seamless Tights with a comfortable waistband

84% Polyamide, 16% Elastane

Hand Wash Only

High

Discrete

Brand new Innovative Ladies Tights seamless thanks to special seamless technology

Care Instruction: Hand Wash Up To 40 Degrees

Gatta® discrete 15 Denier seamless tights

  The Packaging: so the front has the half drawn half real model wearing the hosiery on the front so it gives you an idea what they are like when they are on. The back only goes into a little detail along with hosiery care, sizing guide and the other little extras:

“Innovative seamless women’s tights achieved through the use of special seamless technology.”

When you get inside, you find these neatly wrapped around cardboard, subtly shaped to the feet and legs.

I decided to take loads of pics of the waistband before I got them on so you can see what they are like. I was so intrigued by them that I actually couldn’t wait to get them on!

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  On The Legs: so getting these on (and making sure you are wearing those gloves) are so easy. These are shaped to your feet and legs, which means you can tell back from front so you get the right fit.

I would advise taking care over anklets and not rush to put them on as they are pretty delicate.

Once they are on, you see this instant tan look which I totally love! It has such a beautiful shine to them, and with a popping skirt (or dress) this will look amazing during the day. I would say these are defo summer tights to get that shine and winter if you want to cheer yourself up!

Now when the flash hits, these become something incredible. They remind me of Falke Shelina 12 Tights that I did some time back with such a stunning shimmer to them.

The denier is once again great for those who are looking for the bare leg / nude look because they actually did look like I wasn’t wearing any today. With 15s, it’s quite nice as you get a lovely thin coverage which can be enough to make it look like your legs have got make-up on them to make them look flawless!

The feel of them are super soft, but I won’t say completely smooth; only because of the shimmer they have, it does feel ever so slightly grainy. Nothing that would feel horrible on the legs, but something to just point out. I mean not all hosiery can be like the CdR Eterno with smooth finishes and glossy shines!

The quality of the hosiery is amazing; no snags, no pulls, rips or ladders either which I am pleased about. Even then, because they are pretty much skin tone (if not a shade darker) you won’t be able to tell unless you run your hands down it or look right up close!

  The Toes & Ankle: around the toes these sit flush and don’t budge once you have set it. The seam has stayed put all day without moving, there has been plenty of wiggle room in these and overall, they have been good to me!

Around the ankles – no crinkling, no creasing, no wrinkles, no nothing. It has been a nice smooth finish so I didn’t have to keep on looking down to see if my tights needed pulling up a little.

  The Waistband & Gusset: now this is interesting … AND I LOVE IT! It has got to be the best band I have come across. It’s unique, it’s different and it actually works.

  It states that it’s seamless … And that is correct. Under my tank top, I couldn’t actually see where my tights ended.

It states that it’s supposed to be comfortable… And that is correct too! It has got to be one of the bestest ones; I haven’t felt it on me throughout the whole day and it’s one that doesn’t hug you like you think it would. Don’t get me wrong it stays up damn well throughout the whole day and doesn’t lose any elasticity either.

I love this whole concept of it, and purely on the band alone, I would recommend these! It’s just this thick chunk of material which is super soft and so elasticated but fits so well once it’s on you.

Anyways the gusset … There isn’t really one. It’s this weird patch in the middle which I suppose is the reinforced part of the hosiery working into the band to keep it supported.

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  My Thoughts?

I am in absolute love; these have got to be one of the best affordable designs I have come across in a long while. The band is just amazing and that was the main selling point for me, and then with the added shimmer on the tights is just incredible.

The quality is fab, and the colour is well suited to the legs despite it looking pasty in some images that I took! I really do think these are great.

I would certainly recommend!

Gatta Discrete Seamless Tights Oh look who it is? Gatta is making a bit more of an appearance aren't they? Slowly working their way onto my page once again!

[theoddcatlady]

Hickey

A great one night stand leaves two things for me: great memories and no strings attached. Bonus points is if there’s no evidence left behind. But sometimes one cannot get lucky enough for that bonus.

“Oooooh, someone got a little action this weekend,” Aisha teased as she slid over to my cubicle on her chair, grinning like a Cheshire Cat.

I laughed sheepishly and rubbed my neck, where the still prominently red hickey stood out from my skin, like a proud signal of ‘I got laid’. “Yeah. He got a lil mouthy,” I said.

Aisha laughed and slapped her knee. “Least someone around here is. Who was it? Was it Ben? Oh my god, Chris, it better have been Ben!”

“No, no,” I waved that off, Ben was straighter than a ruler and I was too impatient to try to change that, “some guy I met at the bar. Sexy as hell, name was uh...” I had to rack my brain for a few seconds, “Claud? Or something weird like that.”

Aisha wrinkled her nose. “Not something I’d imagine screaming, but eh, could be worse. What was he like? Appearance wise, appearance wise, I’m not interested in every dirty detail!” She raised her hands as if she expected to be physically bombarded with tales about exactly how big his throbbing dick was.

I had to bite down on my lip to stop from laughing too hard. “Uh, tall. Dark hair. Accent, I think it was Russian... Broad shoulders. Washboard abs. Really standoffish at first but I got him to warm up after a few shots. But yeah, super mouthy. You can’t even see the ones under my shirt, I look like I’m polka dotted.” I rubbed my neck again. “How bad is it?”

“Honestly, it can pass for a bug bite.” Aisha slid back to her desk. “I think I just saw Bianca, act like you’ve been working all morning.”

A good friend knew when to stop gossiping. The time to stop gossiping was when the bitchy boss came into the area and started stalking about like a wildcat.

About noonish, my mouth was dryer than the Sahara Desert. I reached for my water bottle only to find that I’d already emptied it. Super thirsty thanks to the dry ass air conditioning. I groaned and got up to refill it.

“Don’t be slacking, Chris,” Bianca quipped as she walked on by. I pressed my lips together, ignoring the urge to remind her that I could absolutely get up to get something to drink before walking to the bathroom.

Once I was in there, I decided to take a piss too- I’d seriously been downing water all morning.

I just finished pissing when the door opened. I caught sight of Ben walking into the washroom, looking like he’d just been told he had three weeks to live. I zipped up and went to wash my hands. “You look like hell,” I deadpanned.

“My wife just sent me divorce papers.”

Oooh. In my shock I accidentally turned on the hot water too high, burning my hands. I hissed and quickly added cold water. “Ouch. Um… sorry?” I was horrible for these kind of situations. Especially since Ben was ultra fucking sexy. Hard to concentrate on things.

“It’s… I just…” Ben ran his hand through his hair. “I don’t know what the fuck I did wrong, you know man?”

As someone with commitment issues, I could more along the lines of what Ben’s wife was thinking, but I knew that’d be a dick move to bring up. “She’s a bitch if she’s not even gonna try to make it work,” I said as I dried my hands. “You’re a great guy, she’s clearly fucking this up.”

Ben sighed and leaned back, but I caught a hint of a smile on his lips. “Thanks, man. I gotta get back to work… hey, is that a hickey or a spider bite?” His eyes landed on my neck and I cleared my throat and adjusted my collar.

“Former.”

“Nice, er… maybe not nice. It looks really uncomfortable,” Ben walked up to the other sink and splashed water on his face, “I gotta get back to work. Keep the divorce thing on the downlow, kay?” With that, he walked out.

Frowning, I examined the hickey in the mirror. It did kinda look worse than it felt, it actually looked a little… swollen. Weird.

The next morning I stumbled into the bathroom, wondering if there was anything nice I could say to Ben. I like the single and ready to mingle life, I don’t know how people tie themselves down to someone for a more permanent situation.

I stepped into the shower and looked down at my chest.

And then I screamed.

I leaped out of the shower, nearly slamming my dick into the counter. I looked at the mirror, wondering if it was just a trick of the light, but my stomach dropped so hard I felt myself nearly puke.

My chest was covered in what looked like swollen bug bites, bright red and irritated. I poked one and my stomach churned. What the actual shit. I sunk to the floor and touched the one just below my belly button, it looked like Rudolph’s fucking nose. It gave under my harder prods, like an oversized pimple.

I remembered Claud sucking extra hard right about there.

Shit. I had an STI. I was going to die.

The hardest one to hide was, of course, on my neck. Turtlenecks were not my style, but I did not want to show off my ‘hickey’. Aisha rolled over to my desk, her lips pursed in a concerned manner. “Whoa, Chris. What’s with the turtle neck? Getting tired of the hickey jokes?” She asked.

I swallowed. This was humiliating. “Um… yeah, sure. It just gets a lil old. Plus I might be visiting my mom tonight and she still thinks I’m a straight virgin. Can’t have her realizing I got my ass rammed by a hot guy Saturday,” I said, trying to keep my voice level.

Aisha was a good friend, so she knew something was up, but she was also a good friend who knew to back off. She chewed her bottom lip before she nodded. “Okay, okay. I can’t blame you. I’ll lay off too,” She said before rolling back to her desk. Right on time too, Bianca the Vulture was doing her rounds.

I kept my eyes glued to my computer until I got so thirsty my lips started to crack. I could feel blood welling up on the inside of my mouth. I got up and walked to the bathroom to refill my water bottle.

It was halfway full when I felt my neck twitch.

Gasping, I pulled down my collar to reveal the painfully large lump. It twitched again, noticeably, before it began to pulse.

The fucking STD pimple from hell was pulsing in time with my heartbeat.

I couldn’t breathe. I carefully prodded it with my finger and it squirmed. I jerked my hand away and nearly lost my balance. I couldn’t fucking breathe. What the actual shit was wrong with me?!

“There you are!”

Hearing a woman’s voice in the men’s bathroom is really not something you want to hear at the best of times, least when you’re me. And at this moment, I really wanted to tell Bianca exactly what I thought of her stupid bottle blond perm as she strutted in like she owned the place.

She set her hands on her hips as I slowly turned around, keeping the monstrosity of a bump on my neck covered with my hand. “You’ve been in here ten minutes and you’re just primping in the mirror. Don’t think this won’t turn up in your next review!” She shook a finger at me before she wrinkled her nose. “What the hell are you doing? Put your hand down, it’s creeping me out!”

“I’m taking care of something,” I managed to say in a strangled tone, “I think I need to go home, I’m… I’m not well.”

“Bullshit!” Bianca strode up and ripped my hand down, her eyes turning baseball size when she saw the thing on my neck. “Jesus Christ, what the fuck-”

The lump exploded, yellow-green pus covering her face and wide open mouth. For once, Bianca had nothing to say, only to look frantically at the glob that had landed on her fingernail before my neck exploded in excruciating pain.

I collapsed back against the counter, banging my head as it felt like something was pulling on my neck. No, not on my neck. Inside. From the inside of my fucking neck. I couldn’t see it. I just felt it pulling itself from the newfound wound and in a dark blur launched itself into Bianca’s mouth.

Bianca gagged loudly before her eyes rolled back, the veins in the whites popping and flooding her eyes with blood before she collapsed on the ground, writhing like she was being electrocuted. My head felt light, I could only watch as her body twitched a few more times before going deathly still. No breathing. No movement. I blacked out after that.

I woke up on an unknown couch. The place was nice. Super nice. I sat up and nearly cried, black dots swarming in front of my eyes that forced me to lay back down.

“Chris? You okay?”

Ben walked into the room and I swore I was in heaven. When Ben dressed down, he dressed down. Sweatpants, t-shirt. Had a bleach stain on said t-shirt. Not gonna lie- it was fucking hot.

Memories of Bianca’s bloody eyes killed any thoughts of getting turned on.

Ben sat at the end of the couch, those perfect fucking eyes looking at me. He looked so damn worried.

“We found you and Bianca… well, Bianca’s body in the bathroom. Doc says it looks like she had an aneurysm burst. Ticking time bomb. I mean, I hated her, but Jesus, what a way to go. I offered to take you back to my place to keep an eye on you, you might have a concussion and we’ll go the hospital if you feel like you need it.” He reached forward and rested a hand on my knee. “What happened?”

I opened my mouth and made the least sexy gurgling sound imaginable. Fucking kill me.

“I’ll get you something to drink.”

Water! God, water sounded amazing right now. When he returned with a bottle, I drained the thing so fast it was probably embarrassing, water dripping down my chin. I cleared my throat, god. Still so fucking thirsty. “Thanks,” I croaked.

“Good thing I grabbed two,” Ben laughed as he handed me the one he’d taken a sip or two from. I sucked that one down at a more respectable rate, finally feeling a little quenched. I still didn’t sit up though. I learned my lesson.

“I… I think I’m sick.”

Ben’s eyebrows drew together and he leaned forward. “Yeah? What’s wrong?” He said.

God, he was gonna get freaked out. I whimpered as I pulled up my shirt, shuddering once I saw the ‘hickeys’. They’d gotten worse, some starting to turn purple at their tip and becoming cone shaped. Ben gasped and shot back, his face twisted with revulsion. “Fucking Christ! What happened to you?” He breathed out.

I sobbed as I began to pull my shirt back down. “I don’t fucking know, man. I was just… these all happened after…” I felt my nose start to get all drippy. Boy. That was sexy.

Ben stopped me and slowly touched one of the hickeys. It pulsed and swelled. He breathed in sharply, still obviously thinking ‘what the actual fuck?’ but also a little fascinated. “The time you got the hickey?” He guessed.

“Dude, I swear to god, I used protection,” I said, staring at the ceiling. “I’m not an idiot, I’m a fucking gay guy whose uncle died from fucking AIDs… the guy was all over me though. And I swear to god each one of his lil marks he left turned into… these...” I sobbed and covered my face. Ben was going to freak the fuck out. I was fucked.

Again, Ben touched one of the swollen lumps. “I’m not assuming anything, I promise, shit happens… but… what are they?” He asked.

“… This one,” I pointed at my neck, which had been bandaged up when I was out, “Something… something came out of it. And it attacked Bianca. And… and it killed her.”

Ben jerked back much quicker. “Fuck!” He eyed the hickeys again, clearly much more careful. “But… how… that’s not… they’re going to open soon?” He guessed.

I glanced down and saw that the one he’d touched had begun to twitch. I whimpered as I covered it. “Just go, get out of here. I’m fucking dead, man.”

Ben got up, looking ready to run out the front door… before he sat down and started to rub the lump. I gasped and swatted his hand away. “Jesus, what are you doing?!” I shrieked.

“… I mean. I might as well be dead too.”

Ben glanced around the room, his eyes started to seem whimsical. “We’d been married so long. Ten years this November. Highschool sweethearts. Prom King and Queen,” definitely not shocked he was Prom King, “and I was finally bringing up having kids… and she’s gone.” His chest shuddered.

He was crazy. He was fucking crazy. “Come on, Ben, don’t be stupid. Please. You have so much going for you!” Especially with Bianca having kicked it, he’d be in line for a promotion. Morbid way to think about it, but fair, I figured.

“No I don’t.” Ben sniffed and wiped his eyes quickly. “I… I really don’t. And hey, at least this way you won’t be alone?”

Alone.

I didn’t realize that once he’d left I’d be alone. With these fucking twitching lumps that used to be hickeys. And god, I hated being alone. I’d rather have my innards ripped out than be alone. And I’d especially not want to die alone.

I took his hand and sobbed. “God, you’re a fucking moron, Ben,” I said as the lump slowly began to swell.

He nodded before he brought his fingers up and like popping a pimple, squished the largest lump.

The smell of pus and rotten flesh filled the air and I started to gag. What the hell was wrong with me?! How had I not felt pain?! How was I still not in pain!?

The pain kicked in when the thing began to crawl from my ribs.

It was like a worm, a brown worm with yellow stripes lining its side. It probably wasn’t longer than a shoelace and didn’t seem to have eyes. It squirmed out from inside me, my skin making a squelching sound. Its parasitical jaws opened, three teeth from its small mouth extending out. Ben was frozen, staring at that thing.

Then he reached up and petted it.

I could’ve laughed if it didn’t hurt. Ben was petting a goddamn murderous snake-worm parasite that had eaten god knows how much of me. It was fucking crazy.

Instead of trying to rip his throat out though, the parasite seemed to croon, leaning into his touch. It rubbed against his fingers before its teeth set into his finger. Ben screeched as blood started pouring from the stub that was once his pointer finger. The parasite squealed as it crawled from my chest and dove for his stomach.

Ben’s mouth opened in a silent scream as it burrowed in, I caught a glimpse of its fin like tail before it was gone. Ben’s eyes went glassy before he collapsed on top of me… and with his weight he successfully burst all of the remaining hickeys on my chest.

I screamed as the parasites erupted from my skin and punctured through Ben’s, Ben’s eyes going blank as they chewed right through his shirt and into his skin. One bit through his neck and blood spurted onto my face. I cried and clung onto the couch and squeezed my eyes shut, waiting for things to become dark and for me to finally just fucking die.

But that didn’t happen.

I didn’t lose consciousness. I didn’t start to go numb. Everything remained as sharp and painful as when it first started. And even though I thought I was stuck to a dead guy, Ben was just as alive as I was.

It must’ve been hours after it first started when Ben finally seemed to come back to life. He gasped and tried to pull back, only for the worms connecting our bodies to screech and their bodies to go taut. Ben cried out and fell back on top of me.

“… I think they’re eating me,” He gasped out.

I nodded and rested my head on his shoulder. “I’m… I’m fuckin sorry, man,” I whimpered.

Ben’s bloody hand reached up to my face and stroked it. “… Not your fault,” He groaned before passing out again.

Outside grew dark. I felt tired. Ben kept drifting in and out. I knew we had to die soon.

Then two of the worms flopped from our bodies and scooted to the door. No! I whimpered and reached for them as they squalled and made their way out of the house from underneath a crack in the door.

“What happened?” Ben slurred.

I cried. Not more people. Not more people.

The two returned back hours later, this time through the window. They had to break it, the shattering of the glass making me jump and the parasites complained about how they were jostled about. The two who returned were much fatter now, and as they squirmed in through holes in my ribs I felt something tear into my stomach.

And then I felt… better.

Ben clearly felt the same effect. He blinked and looked around, even a little color returning to his cheeks. “The fuck?” He muttered.

I reached up and gripped his bicep, pulling back as much as our torsos would allow. Our skin was flayed out, the holes passages between our bodies as the parasites dived in and out. Their squeals grew musical, like they were singing a song.

I laughed.

“They’ll… they’ll take care of us, Ben. We’re their home now. They’ll take care of us.”

[dragonshost]

Pairing: Mard Geer/Lucy Series: Fairy Tail

Chapter 3 is finally out!  It’s almost 2k.  Link above, and the fic is below the cut.

Teardrops Are Racing Our Stopwatch Our Hope Is In A Headlock Tomorrow Always Comes Too Soon

-Seven Lions "Way To Say Goodbye"

Previously...

Phoenix lifted her head from the stone tiles, water pouring from her eyes and running down her face - her wrinkles canals of saltwater.

"Kill my summoner."

Lucy recoiled from the spirit, her feet carrying her backwards until her back collided with Ortez, and she wobbled. Warm hands steadied her shoulders, but she barely registered the contact - her eyes fixated, unblinking, on the still bowing spirit. "K-kill?" she stuttered. Her heart hammered in her rib-cage. "You want me to... to what?"

The old spirit's form shuddered with every breath she took, but she held Lucy's gaze with rock steady determination and steel behind her eyes. "I need you to kill the last person to summon me. You are the only one I can ask - there is no one else that bears the trust of the Celestial King, and the requisite power to carry the task out."

Lucy continued to stare at the spirit. She swallowed thickly, unable to string along a sentence.

Kill someone? Her? Why would a spirit ever ask this of her? Let alone a spirit she didn't even have a contract with.

Beside Phoemix, Corvus shifted uncomfortably as the stare-off went too long, sweat beading on his skin. It was clear he would rather be anywhere other than in the middle of this. "Um... Grandmother. Maybe you should... should explain the situation more," the crow spirit suggested. "And... um... maybe we should get some cushions before my new key holder keels over!" A high pitched, garbled noise of pure distress emanated from his throat. "I can't believe she pulled this right from the get go, oh stars why is this happening why are old people like this?!" he said, words tumbling out of his mouth like an unstopped spigot.

Phoenix's eyes narrowed, and her head whipped around to glare at her grandson. "Old people are what now?"

"Not meant to be sitting on the ground so long! You know, creaky joints and all." Corvus spun on his heels, striding towards a partition woven from starlight that Lucy had mistaken for another part of the scenery. "So I'll go get cushions!"

Softly, the old spirit sighed, her gaze refocusing on Lucy's petrified body. "My grandson has a point. I must apologize - that was far too abrupt, and unspeakably rude. Would you care for some tea?"

Lucy didn't move, her tongue locked away behind her tightly clenched jaw.

"Thank you for the offer," Ortez spoke in her place, the proximity of his voice startling Lucy out of her stupor. "Although I would very much enjoy the opportunity to partake of tea from the Celestial World... it seems there are more urgent matters afoot."

Withdrawing a handkerchief, Phoenix dabbed her face with the cloth. "Nonsense," she huffed. "You are guests."

Guests whom she was asking to kill someone on her behalf.

"Aside from which, I already made it," Corvus added, returning with the promised cushions. Swiftly, he positioned them, and then helped his grandmother onto one. "I'll be... right back with that. Make yourselves comfortable."

They did so, and Lucy quietly thanked Ortez. To which he merely smiled kindly, and said, "You're most welcome, my dear."

Once they were settled, and the tea sitting in steaming cups before them, Yukino was the first to break the silence. "Forgive me, Phoenix-sama. But there's something I don't quite understand. Aside from anyone wanting Lucy-sama to kill someone, I mean."

The celestial mage was grateful that Yukino felt the same as her on that part. The tension had mostly drained out of the room with Corvus's nervous rambling earlier, but it was slowly seeping back into all those present.

"Yes?"

"I was under the impression that none of the Ghost keys had been summoned for a very, very long time. So I'm not sure how Lucy even could fulfill your request."

Yukino's words brought life back to her friend. "Yeah, thanks Yukino." Lucy stared hard at the two spirits sitting before her - one calm and stern, the other flushed and fidgeting. Though he was her grandson, Corvus possessed little of Phoenix's composure at the topic of discussion. "Grandpa Crux is never wrong when it comes to the history of Celestial Spirits. He said that it had been over 75 years since Corvus was last called upon, and I trust what he told me. In which case I would have to assume that your summoner is very, very old."

Phoenix help up her sleeve to cover her mouth, but the crinkling at the corners of her eyes gave away her amusement. "Indeed. My grandson was the most recently summoned of the Ghost keys. I was last summoned... what year is it in your world, again?"

"Year X791," George offered, speaking for the first time since they'd arrived in the Celestial World. "This tea is most excellent. Might I trouble you in taking home some of the leaves?"

"Certainly. I am pleased you find it suitable to your palate."

Corvus cleared his throat, trying to nudge Phoenix back onto the prior topic.

"There is always time for pleasantries, grandson," she stated.

"This is coming from the woman who skipped them and jumped straight into ordering a hit...?" His mouth snapped shut at a pointed look from Phoenix. The second she looked away, he muttered, "I'm just saying. People normally... work... their way up to that."

He was ignored.

"If the year is X791..." Phoenix said, thinking it over. "Then I suppose it must have been around four centuries since I was last in Earthland." She took a long sip of her tea.

The group collectively stared in silence for several moments.

"...Eh?" Lucy uttered, hardly processing the revelation.

Humming, Phoenix nodded. Her eyes were unfocused - her mind far away from where they sat. "Yes... a little over four centuries. Give or take a couple of decades. I was quite the spry young thing back then. Earthland was beautiful, and vast. So much to see, and Caelestis and I were determined to see it all. He... he promised me that we would." Her gaze drifted to her tea, clasped in her wrinkled, age-worn hands, riddled with spots. "Twas not to be, I'm afraid."

Something about the way she looked at herself, in the regret and sorrow in her voice, tugged at Lucy's heartstrings. "Please," she implored. "Please tell me why you want me to do this."

"It's a long, long story," Phoenix said. "And so much happened that I... I know how differently time flows between our worlds, and there isn't much time left for this to be resolved, if it can be. So please, excuse my hastiness earlier. I won't bore you with all the details, but you do deserve to know why."

Nodding, Lucy clutched her warm teacup. "Please."

"I misspoke before, when I asked you to kill him. That's not precisely what I want."

Lucy's brow furrowed in confusion. "I don't understand."

"You see... my summoner already is dead. He has been for centuries." Phoenix closed her eyes in pain. "He was murdered, while I was out on an errand." Tears began to slide down her face once more. "My friend needed me there to protect him, and I was running an errand."

Corvus placed a hand on her shoulder. "Grandmother..."

Phoenix set the cup down, and covered his hand with one of her own. "I'm alright." She patted his hand, and let it fall to the table. Then she opened her eyes again, and stared straight through Lucy. "The issue here is who murdered him. For after our contract severed, I heard from other spirits that they'd seen Caelestis. By all appearances, hale and hearty."

Lucy's stomach dropped to her toes. "I... I don't know how to say this... But are you sure the contract was broken by death? That he didn't just... end it for some reason?" She hated the idea - of cutting off a spirit without a single word of farewell, or explanation why. It went against her very grain. But there were celestial mages out there like that. Angel and Karen had proven just how brutal celestial mages could be.

But Phoenix shook her head. "Caelestis's student, Skaldra, found blood. Too much of it for him to have survived. No... my summoner was murdered, and his body was taken away. Skaldra never stopped searching for Caelestis, and one day... he found him. Or... what remained of him." Phoenix's gaze had hardened, a cold fire in her eyes. "It seems my summoner was murdered by a necromancer." She continued on, unheedful of her audience's shock, and her tone detached - as if she were recalling a fact from a textbook, instead of recounting the defilement of her friend. "Even dead, Caelestis was too strong for his student to handle. So Skaldra fled. I couldn't even bring myself to blame the boy. He idolized Caelestis. Later, Skaldra died as well, and I lost my last link to what happened to Caelestis. I've kept my ear to the ground, however. And from what I've been able to piece together, it seems as if he's still walking around now, long past the inevitable death of the necromancer that raised him up."

"So..." Lucy choked on her words. "So when you asked me to kill your summoner..."

"I meant, 'kill him again,'" Phoenix finished softly. "Please... I just wish for him to rest in peace. Even if nothing of him remains still inside that corpse. I just want him to be laid to rest, at long last. It's my only wish in this world."

Dumbfounded by the weight of the request, Lucy couldn't help the sympathetic tears that filled her eyes. "That's so not fair," she whispered. "That's so not fair that... that happened to you. To him." She sniffed, and set her jaw in determination. "I will do it," she stated, her voice stronger from the strength of her conviction. "I will lay Caelestis to rest, and give both of you the peace you deserve."

Reaching out to her, the ancient spirit clasped Lucy's hands in hers. "Thank you. Thank you, from the bottom of my heart."

Preoccupied, neither of the pair caught Corvus's perturbed stare, deep worry etched into every line of his body.

And I'll Hold Onto Every Piece Of You That I Made Up In My Mind Until I Find A Way To Say Goodbye

-Seven Lions "Way To Say Goodbye"

[oddsnendsfanfics]

Dirty Laundry

Genre: Fan Fiction Pairing: Jai Courtney/OFC (Roo) Warnings: Language Rating: PG13 Length: Short Story Disclaimer: a strict work of fiction, I own nothing except the original characters and the plot line. In no way am I affiliated to any of it.

A/N: I can’t wait for everyone to see what I have planned for these two :D

Read:  I’m a Walking Travesty & Mother Knows Best

"Honey is there any answer to that?" Jai asked leaning forward in his seat to look at her closer. His hands were folded and resting on his knees, his brow raised and his eyes digging a hole in her.

Only she knew why he was here.

Sitting on the cliche leather sofa, in the not cliche brightly painted office, she pursed her lips and wrinkled her nose.

"I wanted Jai to be here, because in all honesty we have a lot of unresolved issues." She bit her bottom lip. There were no need for nerves, yet here they were. "It's not fair to either of us, if we can't safely open up and discuss who and what we are."

"Well that certainly sounds fair." The smart dressed, silvering haired lady spoke from the chair a few feet away.

Upon meeting Doctor Wendy Todd; Jai immediately liked her. She wasn't cold or off putting like he had imagined a therapist to be. On the contrary, she had been rather welcoming in her tone and manners. Her office overlooked a freshly manicured park and the large windows, allowing in floods of sunlight, did wonders for the atmosphere.

"And how does being here sit with you?"

Jai appreciated the way she was wording her questions. A little less formal than he had imagined them to be as well.

"I'm honestly up for whatever she wants. I was a little shy about it, but if it is going to help us and if it is important to her, then I'm here." Jai answered with the most honesty he had given to anybody in weeks.

When she had asked him to come to this therapy session, Jai had been hesitant, never the less he had given in and here they were.

They had been getting ready to go their separate ways for bed one evening, last week, when she had lingered outside of his room a little longer than she usually did when saying goodnight. Jai had mentioned the two of them needing an evening out, when she gathered the courage. The question had been precise when she'd asked, adding that if he didn't want to then there would be no hard feelings.

"Are you sure? Therapy? You want me to come with you?" Jai rubbed his hands over his face.

"Look, it isn't my idea of a date either, but it would mean a lot to me." She pressed the palms of her hands into his chest. The hair that adorned his chest was ticklish under her touch. "If you don't want to, I'm not going to be offended."

"Babe, it isn't that I don't want to go." Jai sighed, his arms loosely resting around her waist. "I'll go, but I want to make sure it isn't going to disrupt anything."

"Disrupt? No, Boomer." She smiled sweetly. "If anything this is going to help us. We need to talk and we need to air things out. This is going to be good. I promise."

"Let me know the time and day, I'll see you there."

"Really?" The look she wore was shock and appreciation.

"Of course! I want to do this right." Jai kissed the tip of her nose. Wincing when he realized his actions. Mumbling a quick apology. Affection had been limited, upon the view that it could hinder any clear decision she was to make on their relationship. Jai was a little unclear on that rule, seeing as she didn't mind the intimacy the three times they'd had sex.

"It's fine. Honestly." She shrugged it off. "Thank you."

Making a few more notes on her paper, Dr. Todd furrowed her brow before speaking. "The two of you have known one another a rather long time. Do you often give in so easily, Jai?"

"Uh, well." Jai rubbed the back of his neck. "I guess I've learned that it is easier to give in, than to argue."

"Yet we still manage to fight." She rolled her eyes.

"Not entirely my fault, Roo." Jai shot back, earning a scoff.

"Why is it, do you think, you fight so often?" Dr. Todd looked directly at her.

This was going to be interesting. Jai often wondered that himself, but never dare asked for fear of the outburst.

Nervously chewing the inside of her cheek, she sat frozen on the spot, wishing this question had been for Jai. Not that he'd have a valid answer, it was him who rarely started the fights and they both knew it.

The best, logical, reason she could come up with was also one of the lamest sounded excuses she could ever imagine. When people were in love, they argued and fought, it was some sort of unwritten rule. She had never argued or fought with anybody as much as Jai. Surely that wasn't love. If it was then love felt a lot like aggravation and desperation.

Much to her surprise, Jai jumped in, his voice confident in his words.

"I try to fix things and I shouldn't. It's not my job to fix people or life." Jai admitted his downfall. "I don't like feeling helpless, while those around me fall, it's torture. It starts a lot of arguments, between us."

"I..." She paused, silently thanking him for stepping up to the plate, although it wasn't entirely Jai's fault. "I don't know when to walk away. Instead of walking away and cooling off, I speak before I think. In doing so, often times, I say a lot of hurtful things in the heat of the moment."

Jotting down a moments worth of notes, Dr. Todd placed her pen on top of her notepad and offered a small, yet somehow comforting smile. "And we can deal with this. I can give you both some pointers in how to pull back and defuse an escalation."

Intently, Jai listened to everything that was being given. Dr. Todd talked about taking time out, allowing things to flow as they naturally would, without interruption or Jai trying to control the actions. The therapist went on to elaborate about taking time out, even if only for a few seconds, before saying the first thing to mind. If they could utilize even a fraction of these methods, their arguments may, in time, become less frequent.

On the sofa next to him, Jai watched as she nodded intently, taking in everything the therapist was saying. Her brow was creased in concentration, as she hummed in reply to the details of a small exercise, which Dr. Tood felt useful to their situation.

If these tools worked, there may be a glimmer of hope somewhere.

"If I were to ask you: What are you to one another? What would my answer be?" Dr. Tood slowly shifted the subject to the next issue on tap.

The million dollar question.

No doubt, in Jai's mind that she was his partner. Girlfriend, lover, whatever other word could be used for two adults in a sexual, somewhat loving, relationship. The real mystery was what was he to her?

"She's my best friend. No doubt there." Jai answered first. "I'd like to go as far and say she's my girlfriend, maybe not right now, but before. She was certainly more than just a friend."

"You're saying, Jai, that you are in deed in a relationship?"

"What else would it be? We shared a bed, a home, a life for months. If she weren't my girlfriend, my partner, then that is one hell of a friendship." Jai chuckled, trying to loosen things up a little. "I want us to work, I've had other girlfriends and frankly, I can't imagine not having her."

Dry mouth, she rubbed her hands against her legs, her dress bunching under her hands.

"Why label it?"

"Why not? Look, I'm willing to do whatever it takes to figure this, us out, but I need to know what it is you want. You've known what it is that I want." Jai replied, his jaw set and his eyes locked on a spot on the wall. It was easier not to look at her, to avoid all eye contact.

"I think that is a very fair thing to ask." Dr. Todd nodded toward her, encouraging her to go on.

Resisting an eye roll, she moved around nervously in her seat. This was much easier when the sessions consisted of her talking and Dr. Todd asking the odd, random, yet relevant question. Having Jai here was almost stressing, but she had asked him to be here and now they had to finish this.

"I don't know." She shrugged. "There, are you happy?" She turned to look at Jai. "I don't know. I just...I know that when things like this have a label it feels constricting, like a final commitment of sorts."

"You've talked about this with me before, what's changed since then?" Under the gaze of the therapist, Jai could almost watch her shrink. Never had he seen her do that under any circumstance.

"Doubt, mostly in me." She added with a small voice. Picking at her newly painted nails, it took her a second to find the right words to continue. "It's not like I don't know how to be loved, my parents were phenomenal at that. In some way, after everything that has gone wrong, I guess I don't feel that I deserve it. If things are good, then it is only a matter of time before they go sour. If I keep part of me from others, then there is no hurt."

Coming home to find her stuff moved in, her own chair next to the fire pit, had been nice. Jai had been thrilled that she was putting forth the effort to be with him, to be more than a ghost in his home. Until today, until this very appointment, they hadn't come close to an argument or bickering once. Maybe that had been because neither one had been pushed to the point where they had to snap?

Things had been going good for them, hearing her say that when things went good, they would only turn bad had been hurtful. Jai wasn't out to hurt her.

Before Jai could react, the therapist swooped in. Her voice was calm and relaxed, much nicer than he would have been.

"You're very well loved, we've discussed that. We've also talked about intimacy issues, why don't we take a look at that again? Hmm? You've said it yourself that you don't feel you deserve love. Why not?"

"Have you met me?" She tried her hardest not to get snippy. "Every person I ever love, for any reasons, leaves. Or they fuck off when I need them the most. Before we can start saying Jai's different, or he won't do that, it's bullshit. We can't predict the future. Why get involved and stuck, when chances are it won't last anyway?"

"I think that is a valid thing to say. We are here, after all, to talk about this and if that is an issue then I think we should explore it." Dr. Todd offered, casting a glance at Jai. Nodding in reply, Jai let the expert do what was needed. "Now, we know Jai obviously has feelings for you, he's expressed that. Somewhere, a part of you may respond to those?"

"I guess." She shrugged, her gaze failing to lift from the spot on the wall. "Sure."

"Good." Dr. Todd took a couple of notes, while talking. "At any time, has Jai ever given you a reason to doubt his feelings? Or his commitment? Has there been a time where he has truly shown you that he may not want to be with you, in the ways he says?"

Jai had never given her reason to doubt him. She could say that their relationship had progressed, beyond friends, while he was still seeing someone but on the flip side she'd also been with someone else. If she brought Meredith into this, then Jai would throw Dan at her, and away they went. If they could keep the verbal clawing to a minimal then she would be happier.

There were no incidents that came to mind. Jai had never given her a reason to fully doubt him, his commitment, or his love. There had been times when he was a pain in the ass, but she was doubtful those would count.

"Well there was...I mean...I don't...He..." She sighed, rubbing her hands against her cheeks. "No. No, he's never...We fight, but...If we're going to be together, I need to know this is serious." She stated, her eyes locking on his. "I've seen your version of serious."

Derailed from the question, without an answer, she had lashed out. It wasn't right, a prime example of speaking before thinking. Inhaling deeply, Jai was in no position to judge, speaking before his brain engaged.

"Felt pretty serious to me last week, when you were in my bed." He muttered, a casual shrug to follow. "Or last night, when you were licking my a..."

"Jai!" She huffed pinching the bridge of her nose. "Sex and relationship really aren't the same. See! This is what I mean, when I try to be serious, you make a comment like that."

"How so?" Doctor Todd cut in. "How are sex and relationship not the same?"

"Well," She paused, sitting straighter. "sex is two consenting adults releasing an urge, why not do that with someone you're familiar with? Relationship is being involved with one another in every aspect."

"But for a lot of people, sex is more than an urge. For some, sex only comes from being in a relationship." Jai added feeling a little unsure of his view. "You share things, deeply, with that person and sex is a result. The ultimate way of showing everything."

"Because you've been in love with every woman you've ever had sex with?" She rolled her eyes. Doubtful.

"No, I haven't been. But as you said, people have urges." Jai's tone was flat. Why was this so fucking hard for her? "Since we've been together, I've never strayed away from that. I've been faithful and you know that."

"Like I haven't been? Is that what you're saying?' Her eyes narrowed into a cold glare.

"I didn't say that. I know you have been. But, there was a little doubt, after you left." Jai's tone was flat.

"I left, because you told me to." She snapped, scoffing loudly.

Here is was – the blow up. Jai could feel the tension mounting, waiting to erupt into something that neither one of them could get out of.

"I can't change what I said, but I do think this break has been good."

Her living with Miles, had been great for her and Jai. Him working in Adelaide, seeing each other for a handful of days or more, was perfect. Their separate vacations to opposite ends of the country had worked out to be amazing. Jai was sure of it.

"How? How has this been a good thing?" Dr. Todd cut in.

"She left, because she needed her space. I'm fine with that, it's what she needed. Maybe, what I needed was to see this side of her. I was so clouded with how I wanted to be with her; I couldn't see the downside."

"What's the downside?" Dr. Todd gently pushed.

"How selfish and uncaring she can be. She worries about herself, nobody else. I can take it, but Denzi was heart broken."

"Denzi is your son?" the older woman clarified.

Jai nodded. "He moped about for days waiting. Eventually, we had to get that damn dog, because I didn't know what else to do." Jai confessed. Seeing his son in such a state had ripped his heart out, every damn day, Denzi asked for her it was absolutely crushing. "Denzi loves you as much as I do; but you run away, I can't have my son depressed because of your selfish choices. Some day, I want you to be his mum but you can't be his mum if you're leaving him all the time."

"Do you have anything to say?" Dr. Todd directed the question to the teary eyed woman on the sofa.

"You push and push, what was I to do? I didn't want to leave, but to save us from a lot of problems, I did. I want to work this out. I do, whether you see this or not." She sniffled quietly. Her heart sank as she felt Jai's stare go through her. Nothing she could say in this moment would look sincere, why bother?

"And you still may be able to." Dr. Todd handed her a tissue. "Not today, but we can continue to work on this, if Jai is willing?"

"Anything." Jai agreed, swallowing the lump in his throat. "I do love you. I push you, because I know you can do better, you can be better. You're the best damn person I know, it's about time you realized that too."

[sweetnestor]

Story of Another Us | Week 8

university au, platonic af, now on ao3!

previous chapter | masterlist

Drowning beside you

“Wrote it down on the wall, she was screaming it out, Made it clear, she’s still here, are you listening now? Just a ghost in the halls, feeling empty, they’re vacant now…”

It was hard having to hear this song, much less sing it. But that was all I could do. It was one of the few songs that really captured exactly how I felt when it came to my relatives. I wasn’t singing it because I was going to post it on my channel, either. I was just trying to get out the bad feelings, but the more I sang it, the more I wanted to wallow.

“Hey Mom, hey Dad, when did this end? When did you lose your happiness? I’m here alone inside of this broken home…”

Sharing something so personal took its toll. I was crying on and off the days following when I uploaded that video. It felt like all these wounds had reopened and the bleeding would never stop. This was why I didn’t like talking about it. It just felt like all the pain was endless. I was thinking about how I felt when I was sixteen and suicidal, when I was twenty one and teetering on the edge. I could still feel my parents’ harsh words like it was yesterday. So I kept singing.

Externally, though, I tried to remain normal. I tweeted random crap, posted my MOTDs on Instagram, and played around with Snapchat filters like nothing was wrong. I still attended classes, usually after a small push from Mark or Jack. But everything felt weird. I felt incredibly vulnerable in front of them now. I mean, Mark knew about my family situation, but he didn’t know that I was suicidal for a period of time. Obviously, Jack didn’t know either, yet he was the first person I told. I wasn’t sure why that was.

A knock on my door interrupted my sad singing. Before I could even grant access, Jack walked in.

“You’ve had that song on repeat for a while,” he told me. “Are you sure you want to keep torturing yourself like this?”

I looked down at my keyboard and shrugged.

Jack approached me and placed his hand on my shoulder. “You need to get out of your room, okay? Can we do that?”

I nodded lightly and got up. He was easy to listen to. Despite how loud and vulgar he was on camera, he was very gentle when he needed to be.

“Good, now give me a hug,” he said, opening his arms.

I obliged and wrapped my arms around his middle. He really did give good hugs.

“You’re not there anymore, Bella,” he told me, rubbing my back. “You never have to be in that place again.”

God, he was going to make me cry again. I took a deep breath, choosing not to respond to his words.

“Let’s do something fun!” he suggested when we parted. “You wanna do your makeup?”

I wrinkled my nose and shook my head. That’s when you know something is wrong. Makeup was my happy place, and I didn’t even want anything to do with it in this state of mind.

“You wanna do my makeup?” he asked without missing a beat.

It sounded exhausting, having to pick up brushes, putting things on his face. Exhausting, but interesting. I had a somewhat thoughtful look on my face, and that was enough for Jack. He dragged me over to the bathroom and stood me in front of the counter where all my makeup was.

“Make me look beautiful! I want the cat eyes and the, the contour!” he said, sounding very much like his online self.

I gave a small smile, but wordlessly began to look through my products. I was opening up different palettes, looking through foundations, and picking out my cleanest brushes. I kept looking at Jack’s face, trying to imagine different eye looks on him.

“Your hair is green, but your eyes are blue,” I said in thought.

“Is that bad?” he asked in response.

“Some people might say it’ll make a lot of colors clash,” I told him. “But I’ll just use whatever the fuck I have.”

I grabbed an eyeshadow primer and one of my Too Faced palettes. I hadn’t done another person’s makeup since I stopped booking clients. I actually liked the feeling, It came almost naturally. I appreciated that Jack was letting me do this.

“Why do you always start with the eyes?” he asked as I sweeped neutral shades over his lids.

“It makes cleaning up fallout a lot easier,” I replied. “So you don’t ruin any foundation or concealer under your eyes.”

Speaking of, it was a challenge to find a perfect match for Jack. I was darker than him, so many foundations in my collection didn’t match his skin tone. Too pink, too dark, too warm! Eventually I decided to just dot one of my concealers all over his face and blended it in.

“So why do you have to have a lighter concealer?” he asked. He was full of questions.

“To look more awake. You can also use it to highlight different features of your face.”

“And now you have to find something even lighter to highlight me?”

I sighed. “Yup.”

I took my time on his face. The warm colors I used really accentuated his blue eyes, and I grew slightly envious of his long eyelashes. Due to that, and the fact that his eyes were ridiculously sensitive, I had to skip out on false lashes. Then, I added bronzer, blush, and highlighter to his face, making his cheeks stand out and chiseling out his features.

“Can you make something of those caterpillars?” he asked when it came to doing his eyebrows.

Are you questioning my skills?” I asked in response.

“No, never! You’re the master here!”

It wasn’t the easiest task, but I did it. Wish I could say that about my anxiety.

I finished off the look with a dark berry lip. It was a little bizarre to see Jack with a full face of makeup, but he looked incredible, and I was very satisfied with the result.

“Whoa!” he exclaimed when he looked in the mirror. His mouth was open in shock, and he was moving his head around so different parts of his face caught the light. “This is so weird…”

“Does it look good, though?” I asked.

“Of course! I’ve never looked better!” he said, posing dramatically, pouting his lips as he looked at his reflection. Then he went off to take a bunch of selfies.

I wasn’t sure if he let me use his face as a distraction or if he genuinely liked what I did. Either way, it got my creative juices flowing, and I really wanted to film a bunch of videos at once. I took out my phone and jotted down some ideas in my notes, hoping that this sudden spark of creativity would last long enough.

“Hey, do you wanna help me make a video sometime?” I asked as I followed his path out to the living room.

“We could do it now, if you want,” he replied as he snapped more photos of himself.

“I’d like to now, but I don’t have the proper materials.” I leaned against the doorway, still looking down at my phone. I hit the home button and was brought back to my main screen. My wallpaper was a picture of Perrie Edwards, and it suddenly rang a bell in my head.

Jack and I were at The Tube, tipsy and giggly as ever. I remembered us bouncing simultaneously in our seats to the music playing. I knew it was a Little Mix song, I just couldn’t put my finger on it.

“Hey, do you remember what song was playing at The Tube that one time?” I asked. “Do you remember at all how it went?”

“He was just a dick and I knew it!” Jack sang without missing a beat.

“Hair!” I exclaimed, finally clicking with it. “I remember! Mark fucking hates that song!”

“Yeah, you were telling me about it until he picked us up!”

I giggled but suddenly froze when we heard a knock on the door. However, I inhaled deeply and turned on my heel to go answer it. This was something I didn’t typically do. If I got a package in the mail, I waited until the mailman was gone. If it was any friend or acquaintance, or even Mark, they would have to text me when they’re at the door. But I just opened the door with very little hesitation. Luckily, it was Mark, Matt, and Ryan. They each were carrying a rather large box with three different cosmetic brand names on them.

“You answered the door!” Mark pointed out, sounding pleasantly surprised.

“I know right!” I replied.

“You got some packages sent to my house,” he explained, holding up the box he was holding. “Thought that would boost your morale, so we brought them over. And there’s more in the car.”

I moved to the side so the three of them could enter. They went to the living room and placed the boxes on the coffee table. Jack was standing in front of the sliding door, and he dramatically turned to face the boys, placing his hands on his hips.

“Hi boys!” he greeted flamboyantly.

“Holy shit, what happened to you?” Matt asked him in shock.

“What did you do?” Mark asked me.

“I was sad, so he let me put makeup on him,” I replied simply.

“And now I look beautiful!” Jack exclaimed as Ryan said “Gay!” over him.

I resisted rolling my eyes as he went to get the rest of the boxes. Then I sat down on the couch and gazed at the ones on the table. High end companies knew who I was? How?

“Why did they send these?” I wondered, completely blown away.

“‘Cause you’re great,” Mark said as he sat down next to me.

Again, I resisted rolling my eyes as I opened up the first bright pink box. There were several eyebrow pencils and gels in pretty silver packaging. The next box was black and inside were several shades of foundation and concealer, which was perfect for one of my video ideas. The last box was white and had an assortment of liquid lipsticks, eyeliners, and eyeshadows. I kept my excited squealing to a minimum so as to not seem ridiculous in front of the guys.

“I have no idea where to start,” I said, “but I’m gonna need volunteers.”

“Nope!” Matt quickly snapped as he dashed into the kitchen.

“He’s going first,” Mark reassured.

Needless to say, I felt better once I was surrounded by makeup and my boyfriend. I was happy that Jack was happy with his new look, and even more that he posted about it on Instagram. I even snagged my own photos of him and explained the details on my profile.

That pretty much marked the end of my little depressive episode. I explained it all to my therapist, and she continued to help me with coping. I was still a loner, having only Jack as my one true friend besides Mark. I was just learning to be okay with it. As long as you have one friend, you should be okay. As long as I had those two guys in my life, I felt like I had a shot at being okay again. I was hoping that I could get through this.

Hoping. I had hoped...

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