#scrolled past then actually read the post aloud and lost it

[bambi-slxt]

🤍𝐈 𝐒𝐞𝐞 𝐄𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠🤍

𝕞𝕒𝕥𝕥𝕙𝕖𝕨 𝕤𝕥𝕦𝕣𝕟𝕚𝕠𝕝𝕠

word count: 1.5k

genres: n/a

warnings: mentions of depression medication and mental health, male masturbation

notes from bambi: here you go!

Matt did see everything. He liked to lurk in the triplet’s fandom spaces, and when his mental health was good, he even found it kinda fun, though he would never reveal this aloud. He definitely enjoyed watching those same spaces work themselves into a tizzy at his knowledge admittance–these kids were so funny. So it came as no surprise to him when the Tumblr TikTok video showed up on his feed.

Matt hadn’t had a good night. He’d tried to jerk off earlier, all to no avail. His antidepressants were helpful for his mood and overall outlook on life but goddamn did they make it hard to masturbate. With a snarl, he had pulled up his boxers and opened TikTok. That was over an hour ago, and now Matt scrolled aimlessly on his private account. He was quite proud of it actually. He disguised it as some random fanpage and had made it a personal mission that week to reblog a few videos about himself. No one would know, and he was nothing if not a Matt girl. 

The video on his Following page was formatted simply–a girl in her room, as most of them were, and he saw it was one of his favorite fan accounts. She always had good takes and the drama in her comment section kept him incredibly entertained. She was expressing her fear at his now-infamous “I see everything” line, and with a chuckle, he pressed the heart icon, preparing to scroll away. In his sleepy haze, he missed, hitting the comment bubble instead. What he saw made his head tilt.

user

   oh ik the tumblr girlies shakin rn

      user

         LMAOOOO REAL

      user

         i’m so lost 😭😭😭

      user

         tumblr can’t be worse than here

      user

         wait what’s on tumbler?

           see all 63 replies៴

user

   bro does NOT see everything, he’d be traumatized

     see all 12 replies៴

user

   @ user WHEN I SAW THAT I SCREAMED

user

   you guys are gonna make them quit if you keep doing ts

     see all 241 replies៴

Matt rolled his eyes at that one. He knew it was a valid concern, but he also knew that there were prices to be paid for being famous, and he would take a few weird stories in exchange for the life of his literal dreams. And besides, he reasoned to himself, they were always so off-the-mark anyway that it didn’t even feel like he was reading about himself.

But back to the matter at hand. Matt had never even heard of Tumblr, so there couldn’t be that many triplet fan accounts on there, and he figured that after everything he’d seen on Twitter, he was ready for anything.

“Well this is fucking ridiculous,” he grumbled to himself, scrolling to the end of the “headcanon”, as it was called. Matt read the name of the “blogger” (he was learning so many new terms tonight) that posted it - some strange amalgamation of letters and numbers, with, of course, “sturniolo” tacked on to the end. Matt elected to keep his thoughts on the spelling to himself. “You’re weird for that. All of it.” He swiped out of the app, fully prepared to roll over, go to sleep, and forget all about it.

…

But what else did they get wrong about him? What did the rest of them think he did when he had sex? Matt figured he should check that “sturniolo triplet” hashtag one more time. 

He sat up properly for this, sighing as he flicked on his bedside lamp. It illuminated his room, its soft light showcasing the woodsy decorations he’d furnished months ago. With a grimace, he opened the accursed app once more and began a deep dive.

It seemed the entire community centered around “smut” of him and Chris. He saw a few for Nick, a handful for Nate, all of which he scrolled past quickly, blinking them away. He wasn’t trying to dive that deep.

The first thing Matt noticed was that almost every story had a line of photos at the top, like a faux header. None of the images contained anything amiss–all were photos posted by him and his brothers throughout the years, pictures taken by fans at shows, and the like. No, the real stuff lay in the words. This was a community–he could tell that much from the amount of reposting–of very good writers. Many of their stories spanned thousands of words with multiple parts and real plots woven throughout. And there were a lot. It was dizzying. He adjusted himself. 

There were stories for almost every situation, some even making him a drug dealer (though most writers seemed to think that out of anyone, it would be Chris, which he found hilarious due to the fact that Chris couldn’t tell a convincing lie if his life depended on it), a mafia boss, a father, a mechanic, or simply just a doting boyfriend. Some wrote him as a harsh, domineering man, quick to take his bratty girlfriend to task. Some wrote him as a needy submissive individual, and the words they used made his head spin. Matt adjusted himself again. His dick didn’t normally bother him this much. Maybe he needed new boxers. 

Matt himself only had a bit of experience in the wide world of sex. He knew there were some wild kinks out there, but he found he was never much interested in watching that kind of porn, and he’d only been with a few girls his entire life, none of whom had ever asked him to perform such tasks on them, so he really didn’t know what he liked and didn’t like. As he lay in his bed, his lamp casting fuzzy shadows over his room, Matt couldn’t tear his eyes from the screen.

They think I’m capable of actually…spanking someone? Am I? If she wanted it, I guess…Apparently I’m some sort of sex god, super posessive, I have a breeding kink, whatever the fuck that means, and Chris and I fight over girls a lot. To him, that was the most unrealistic–he and Chris had wildly different types. 

The sheer amount of stories depicting him absolutely rearranging the guts of the reader or y/n (he still had no idea what that meant) made his brain short-circuit, and he tried to tap out of the one currently pulled up. But alas, Matt still had no idea how Tumblr worked–the images below every story just took him deeper, and it was one of those images that he misguidedly clicked on, an innocuous lilac purple, covered in sparkles. Seems harmless enough.

As Matt tapped around, trying to get back, he found himself on another account and thoroughly lost. An underlined word in the first post caught his attention–concepts. Subtitled below were the words, “short headcanons about the triplets! both sfw and nsfw”. He tilted his head. ‘Sfw’? What does that mean? A quick Google search quieted his questioning. Surely a “safe-for-work” headcanon would be fine to read. He tapped the link, and it directed him to a simpler page, one organized using just his name and Chris’s, each one with links below them. His thumb hovered over one near the top, its title mildly intriguing–“soft!dom!matt”.

Then he paused. Was he really doing this? His dick began to throb. He should have just left the whole thing alone, but now…well, now he had to know. 

Five words in and he was pumping his rock-hard cock in his hand. Matt’s neck strained, his left thumb shaking as he tried to scroll to read more. Such a short piece of fiction and yet…

His stomach began to tie itself into knots. The more he read, the more he panted. His whole pelvic region felt tingly and his cock was so warm in his hand, and getting warmer by the second. This was different than anything he’d ever jerked off to before–this wasn’t a video, or even a naughty selfie from a girlfriend. This was pure porn, about him bringing some unnamed girl to completion over and over again. Matt didn’t even know that was possible. The unnamed girl couldn’t even handle his cock, that’s how tight she was-

The moment he realized this fact, his nuts clenched and he spurted cum all the way up to his chest. Pumping furiously, even raising his hips into his hand, he continued his explosive orgasm, letting out breathy groans as he did so. His chest heaved with heavy breath, and Matt felt the beginnings of a headache forming behind his eyes from how hard he’d just finished. He collapsed on his bed, sheets askew, pillows rearranged, staring blankly at the ceiling.

And then Matt realized which head had been doing all his thinking for him this entire time. Letting his now-limp dick flop to the side, he let out one more gasp of air. “That was weird,” he said aloud into the empty room. “Never doing that again.”

notes from bambi: i referenced my own work because it didn’t feel right to use anyone else’s without their consent, and i wanted to put this out today, not because i think my writing is better than anyone else's or because i think matt would prefer mine over yours. remember that it’s all just fiction and we write for fun. i hope you all enjoyed!

request to be on the taglist under this post right here

tags: @pinksturniolo @malirosee @st7rnioioss @nonat-111 @cindylcuwho @evie-sturns @h3arts4harry @fanficsbymia @dazednmatthews @sturniolo-rat @mattsmad @sturniolo04 @bellasturn @blahbel668 @yomamaslays4lyfe @stasiesturn @pleasantlycrazyworld @ariqolyx @wh0resstuff @krissy4gov @coochiedestroyer1 @madisturn @mattspolitank @sturnsxplr-25 @xtravrgnoliveoil @raysmayhem-72 @sturnpooks @certifiedstarrr @melanch0lybby @freshloveforthefit @xoxo4chrisss @stunza @meerkatzthings @zivall @sturniolopepsi @that1fangirll @wh0schl0 @sharksworldd @mattscoquette @chrisslutx @sturnzsblog @solarsturniolo

[taetaespeaches]

“I could never want less of you.”

hoseok x reader (or oc) genre: angst; fluff word count: 3.3K

a/n: Ok, I’m giggling because this was supposed to be much angstier than what it turned out to be lmao. But like, it’s Hobi and Petal, they just work shit out, idk lol. Anyways, these two are taking a big step in their relationship and it brings out some stress and insecurities and it leads to an argument that is really patched up very quickly lol. I hope you all enjoy and thanks for reading! :))

SITTING at the kitchen island, you scrolled through the photos displayed on your laptop screen of a seemingly perfect apartment that was currently available. The location was conveniently placed in close proximity to both yours and Hoseok’s workplaces, the apartment was stunning, and the building was safe and secure. It appeared to be exactly what you and your boyfriend were looking for.

It was a month ago when you and Hoseok decided you should move in together. He practically already lived at your place anyway, you loved having each other around, and you absolutely planned on spending the rest of your lives together. Finding a new place together felt right.

Bookmarking the page, you wrote down the realtor’s name and number and noted a few details about the living space. Clicking onto another apartment, tapping your pen on the notebook, your front door opened, the sound drawing your eyes to see Hoseok kicking his shoes off before meeting your gaze.

“Hey, Petal,” he gave you a small smile, his eyes darting to your hand that was tapping the pen repeatedly.

“Hi, Sunshine,” you grinned before turning back to the screen to pull up the perfect apartment once again. “Guess what I found,” you said excitedly, Hoseok humming as he approached you. As he peered over your shoulder at the screen, you gestured to the laptop with a playful, “ta-da!”

“Oh, an apartment?” He questioned.

“I really like it, look,” you started, Hoseok already losing focus as he took a step away from you.

“Petal, I just got home,” he pointed out, you turning to look at him, inspecting his features. Your heart dropped at the apprehension displayed in his expression. Throughout the past week, your boyfriend had been acting less and less interested in apartment hunting, and you were beginning to take it personally.

When you and Hoseok first decided to move in together, he was the one who suggested it, stating that he couldn’t wait to have a shared space with you.

Lying in bed together, your nude forms pressed together in a post-sex cuddle, you dragged your finger across his chest as he soothed his knuckles up and down the curve of your hip.

“I missed you,” he spoke softly into the moonlit room, the illumination pouring in through the bedroom window.

“Did you miss me or my bedroom skills?” You teased, Hobi chuckling as his hand moved to tickle your side, you squirming against him until you rolled on top of him, resting your chin on his chest. “I missed you too,” you admitted before bringing your finger to his nose, tapping it gently with a “boop”.

“Your apartment is too far from the studio and dorm when the schedule is packed,” he complained with a slight whine. He had been upset all week that he hadn’t been able to see you due to your hectic new job and his demanding idol schedule with a comeback in the works. “Six days is too long,” he added.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t get to the dorm to visit,” you apologized, the man instantly shaking his head.

“No, our places are just too far apart,” he pointed out. “I couldn’t get over here either.”

With your eyes raking over his face, you huffed. “My apartment is too far from everything now,” you thought aloud. “It was good for university but now my job is closer to where you’re at and it just doesn’t really make sense to be living clear out here.”

“Are you thinking of moving?” He asked, his eyes widened.

“I don’t know,” you pondered. “Maybe?”

Your boyfriend nodded slowly, watching you carefully. Inspecting his expression, you knew there was something on his mind. “What is it?” You questioned him, the man smiling in response at being caught in thought.

“Well,” he started nervously, you staring at him curiously. “You’re thinking of moving,” he added, you humming in confirmation, “and well, I’ve been thinking of my life with you. Our future,” he clarified.

“Hobi,” you realized, making him smile wider.

“Would you want to move in together, Petal?” He asked, you holding back your smile as you stared at him.

“You’re not just suggesting this because I might want to move, are you?” You asked, Hobi quickly shaking his head. “Because this is a big decision, it can’t just be made out of convenience,” you added, your boyfriend chuckling as he tried to cut in. “Like we need to actually want this,” you continued, Hoseok smiling even wider.

Calling your name to get your attention, you stopped talking to appreciate the grin spread across his face. “I actually want this, Petal,” he assured you. “I’ve wanted it, I plan on spending my life with you, I obviously want to live with you.”

The words circled your mind for a moment before a smile broke out on your face. “I want this too,” you agreed easily. “Of course I do,” you added, more telling yourself than him. “I hate not having you here in the evening,” you realized suddenly.

“So, yes? Are we moving in together in?” He asked for clarification, you scrunching your nose at him, the man letting out a cute scream in excitement, you laughing in amusement of him. “Omg, you have champagne in the kitchen,” he realized, gently rolling you off him as he ran out of the bedroom butt ass naked to retrieve the celebratory drink, only to return a second later.

“Did you forget something?” You asked through your giggles, the man nodding.

“This,” he said just before kissing you hard and passionately, pouring every ounce of love he had for you into the action. The champagne could wait.

However, as time went on, Hoseok seemed to become anti-enthusiastic about the very real apartment hunt, and it made you worry he only liked the idea in theory. When put into action, he seemed to be changing his mind.

When you turned back to the screen, Hoseok sighed, noticing your dejection. “Ok, show me,” he started, moving closer to you as you shook your head, minimizing the tab as you pulled up your email, shifting focus as you continued tapping your pen against the notebook. “Petal,” he called out.

“No,” you said simply, not wanting to get into the fight that was inevitably on its way.

“Will you please just show me the apartment?” He asked, an annoyance in his tone. Scoffing at him, you continued tapping the pen against the notebook, Hoseok focusing in on the steady rhythm as you scrolled through the pointless junk emails. “Stop tapping that,” he suddenly spoke, you dropping the pen as you pushed your stool away from the counter.

Standing, you began to walk away, pushing past Hoseok only for him to reach for your hand. You let him take it, turning to look him in the eye.

“I don’t want you to look at the apartment because you feel like you have to, I want you to look at it because you want to, because you’re excited about living together, because-”

“I am excited,” he insisted, you rolling your eyes as you pulled your hand from his. “What?”

“Do you think I’m stupid? You’ve acted bothered every time I’ve brought up apartments to you for the past week,” you pointed out, Hoseok huffing as he watched you walk further into the kitchen. “Is it me?”

“What? No. Is what you?” He asked in concern and confusion, you staring at him as your heart pounded in your chest.

“Do you not want to live with me? Is that why you’re not excited?” You asked, holding back the emotions that were bubbling to the surface.

“I do want to live with you, there is not a single bit of truth in that entire thought process, so stop,” he told you firmly, you shrugging. “I’m just tired,” he defended his recent lack of interest, you shaking your head.

“Don’t blame whatever is happening on tiredness, I know you better than that,” you informed him, the man looking at you guiltily. “You went from being really enthusiastic about the whole process and loving every apartment to nitpicking the apartments over small things to completely avoiding looking at the apartments at all,” you continued. “Something is happening.”

The man simply stared at you for a moment, you biting your bottom lip as you tried conceal the tears that were quickly working their way to the surface. Instead of speaking, he looked to the laptop, placing his fingers on the track pad.

“Don’t,” you told him, closing the laptop, Hoseok moving his hand out of the way just before you shut it completely. “What is going on?” You asked him desperately, the tears pricking your eyes as they gathered along your bottom lash line. Sighing, he looked down at the pen. “Hoseok.”

“The pen tapping,” he whispered, you glaring at him in confusion.

“What?”

Looking up to meet your gaze, he noticed the tears, his face dropping at the realization that you were nearly crying because of him. “You tap your pen whenever you’re focusing on something,” he said, furthering your confusion.

“Ok?” You questioned. “So you don’t want to live with me because I tap my pen?” You asked, the man letting out a huff of air as he shook his head, you wiping your face with the back of your hand.

“No,” he spoke in a fragile voice. “I love when you do it. It’s cute and it’s how I know you’ve lost yourself in thought.” His own emotions began taking over as he tightened his jaw.

“What the fuck is happening, what are you saying?” You questioned in frustration, not understanding the point he was attempting to make.

“People say that the small things you love about a person sometimes become the stuff that drive a wedge between you,” he explained, you staring at him in disbelief.

“Seriously?” You questioned, your boyfriend scoffing at your judgmental tone.

“Just forget it,” he dismissed, turning his face away from you to wipe his eyes.

“No, let me get this straight,” you continued, Hoseok looking back at you with a glare. “You think our relationship is so fragile that being locked in a shared living space with me as I’m tapping my pen will be the ruination of us?” You asked him coldly. “That’s what you’re saying?”

“Jesus christ,” he complained, waving you off. “What I’m saying is that I’m scared,” he admitted. “It’s a big change and I’m scared that all the weird little things about me that you love now are going to end up being the things you hate.”

A small sob escaped your lips at the realization that he wasn’t concerned about him falling out of love with you, but rather you losing feelings for him. “Hoseok, do you understand how much I love you?”

“Yes,” he told you as a tear slid down his cheek. “But I also know how fiercely independent you are and I’m worried that with too much time with me, you’ll realize you want less of me,” he told you, revealing the insecurities he had been hiding away.

“But that’s so ridiculous,” you told him, the man shrugging. “Hoseok-” you started just as your phone rang, cutting you off. Your boyfriend looked at the device that sat next to your laptop.

“It’s your work,” he told you, you sighing.

“It can wait,” you told him, Hoseok shaking his head. “No, we’re not done,” you added, your boyfriend holding the phone out to you.

“The job is new, you need to answer this,” he told you, you shaking your head stubbornly. Pressing answer for you, he gestured to the phone, you huffing and cocking your head at him, taking the phone and bringing it to your ear. Sniffling, you greeted your coworker on the other side of the call.

Hoseok walked out of the kitchen, your eyes following his every step, you listening intently as he moved about the apartment. When the shower started, you tried to focus on the call, taking the opportunity to take care of your work while he was occupied. However, you couldn’t care less about the work issue when you knew your boyfriend, who was just feet away, was so scared of you losing feelings for him. Hoseok and his worries consumed every corner of your mind, making you resort to hums and one-word answers to the fellow employee on the phone.

By the time he stepped out of the shower and entered the bedroom, your work call had ended, you instead sitting back at the island as you looked through the photos of the perfect apartment over and over. How could he not know that you’ve pictured your future with the man since your first date? Your love wasn’t so frail that your feelings would just simply go away.

You not so patiently awaited his return to the kitchen to continue the previous discussion, but he never appeared. After about five minutes, you picked the laptop up and made your way to the bedroom, quietly peeking your head inside to find Hoseok underneath he covers in bed, his back turned to the door.

Despite the tension and the leftover frustration, the concern and hurt, you felt nothing but relief in that moment. Watching as his body rose up and down slightly in accordance to the inhales and exhales that entered and left his sleeping frame, you were just thankful that he was there. You always wanted him there.

Stepping into the room, you placed the laptop on your bedside table before crawling under the sheets, and turning toward your lover. You could only see the side of his face, but he looked peaceful as he slept. You were with him. Through all of it, whatever may come. And the knowledge that he questioned that was enough to elicit tears as you draped your arm around his waist, holding yourself tightly to him as you rested your cheek against his shoulder blade, matching the air that entered and left his lungs as he breathed in and out.

The man stirred at your touch, his hand finding yours that rested at the center of his abdomen, his larger one enclosing over yours.

“I don’t know how to assure you, but I’m just so happy you’re here right now,” you told him through your tears, the man immediately turning in your embrace to face you at the sound of your emotions.

“Petal,” he frowned, you hugging him tightly as you buried your face in his chest.

“I love you so much, I need you to feel it,” you cried to him, your boyfriend pressing his lips to the top of your head comfortingly.

“I do,” he promised. “It’s just a big step, I got overwhelmed.”

“I don’t always express myself as much as I should, but I need you to understand that my love for you is the most sincere and intense mix of emotions I’ve ever had the pleasure of feeling and I don’t ever plan on letting you go,” you told him in a surprise verbal confession that neither of you expected to leave your lips. “I love you, Jung Hoseok,” you told him, lifting your face from his chest to look him in the eye, no shame, no embarrassment present. “Thank you for being here,” you told him genuinely. “I always want you here.”

The man leaned his head toward you to press a sweet kiss to your forehead, you leaning into the touch. “I know that,” he whispered against your skin. “I do, I promise I do,” he assured you. “And I don’t want to be anywhere else than right here right now.” You sighed in relief, Hobi’s lips curving into a smile against your head. “Except maybe in our shared apartment,” he added, you giggling lightly at the comment.

“I know it’s overwhelming,” you told him. “I’m nervous for it too, but I’m sure of us.” Hoseok’s smiling lips pressed a few more kisses to your forehead quickly before he pulled away to look at you.

“I am too,” he nodded.

“Good,” you told him with a small smile. “I’m sorry I woke you up.”

“I’m glad you did,” he chuckled.

Inspecting his sleepy features, you brought your hand to his face to run your finger along his cheek purposelessly. “How tired are you?” You asked.

“Why do you ask?” He questioned back, smiling fondly at your smirk.

“Can I show you the apartment?” You asked in a hopeful tone, Hoseok’s grin widening as he sat up quickly, nodding happily.

“Please, I really want to see it,” he told you, you wiggling in excitement before sitting up with him and reaching for the laptop.

“Ok, it’s located perfectly between your studio and my office, and it has a small little deck area, and the floors are hardwood, and omg it has a bathtub,” you ranted on, pulling the computer onto your lap. “Oh and wait until you see this fucking closet it’s mass-” you were cut off by Hoseok placing a finger to your chin, turning you toward him to immediately place his lips to yours, you easily kissing him back.

Your lips worked flawlessly against one another’s, his soft and warm as always. Pulling away from you, he beamed in utter adoration, you grinning shyly. “I really cannot wait to live with you,” he told you.

“Me too,” you agreed simply, back to your short words with big meaning. “And I could never want less of you,” you told him, the man’s gaze softening at your assurance. “Plus,” you added, intriguing your boyfriend. “If I ever get sick of you, I’ll just tell BigHit to send you on a worldwide tour,” you teased, Hoseok playfully scoffing in feigned disbelief.

“You’re so mean,” he joked, kissing your cheek repeatedly, you giggling at the action.

“You’re so obnoxious,” you retorted happily.

“I know,” he grinned, pecking your lips softly. “Now show me this thing,” he told you, gesturing to the laptop.

“Ok,” you turned to the screen, clicking on the first image. “We could have a little garden here,” you told him, “and oh my god, look, we could put a little bed here for Mickey so he can bask in the sun.”

As you went through the photos excitedly, explaining your vision to him, he could see everything vividly. Waking up and walking into the kitchen to see you dancing around to music as the coffee brewed. Cuddling on the couch with you as you both attempted to watch yet another horror movie, only getting five minutes in before you both called it quits, turning on an animated film instead. On the rare days he got home before you, he would cook you dinner at that stovetop and when you came in and greeted him gratefully, you’d sit at the kitchen island and you’d tell each other about your days. On lazy Sundays, he could see you sitting on the deck area reading a book, Mickey in your lap as you read aloud to the little pup.

Every room, every space, he could see your lives happening.

“Can you call the realtor in the morning?” He suddenly asked as you explained the specifications of the apartment.

“You want me to?” You asked, looking toward him, meeting his smile with your own.

“I love it,” he told you, you scrunching your nose before discarding the laptop to the bottom of the bed, promptly crawling onto your boyfriend’s lap as you kissed all around his face in excitement and happiness.

“I love you, I love you, I love you,” you repeated between kisses, the man giggling as he wrapped his arms around your waist.

“I love you so much, Petal,” he replied. “I love our life.”

He truly did. And he loved your future. No matter what it brought, he already loved it. Because it was yours, together.

[ryqoshay]

Happy Life: Fallen Angel vs. Little Demon

Primary Pairing: YohaRiko Words: ~3.4k Rating: G AU: Angelic? Time Frame: Between Riko’s 2nd and 3rd year and Yohane’s 1st and 2nd year of high school Story Arc: Stand Alone

----------

Author’s Note: Inspired by a somewhat recent SIFAS Daily Theater translation. I will link to said translation in the follow up post.

----------

A knock sounded at the door.

Riko quickly shoved the doujin she had been reading under her pillow. “Yes?” She responded, grabbing some sheet music from nearby on her bed.

“Riko, dear.” Mrs. Sakurauchi said, as she opened the door. “Your friend, Yohane-chan, was it?”

“Yoshiko-chan?”

“I believe she left this.”

Riko recognized the device in her mother’s hand as Yoshiko’s phone and sighed. “Yes, that’s hers.”

“I tried calling her mother already, but it seems she was called in to work and is unable to get ahold of her daughter to tell her.”

“I see…”

“So, I was hoping you could bring it to her?”

“Me?”

“I’m not sure how else to get it to her, or even tell her that it’s here.”

Riko sighed. Perhaps some of the fallen angel’s luck rubbed off on her. It was probably bound to happen at some point or another, what with the two of them spending more time together as of late.

“Alright.” Riko agreed, sliding off her bed.

As she made her way down the stairs to the front entryway, Riko considered the events leading up to her needing to deliver the forgotten item. Yesterday, she had noticed Yoshiko a bit out of sorts, even for the purported fallen angel. In an effort to cheer up her friend, Riko had offered to have her come over to visit Prelude. Thankfully, the tactic had worked well. Yoshiko had perked up immediately and had been quite enthusiastic in her time with the young dog.

The three went for a walk before returning to Riko’s home for a warm meal prepared by her mother. From there, the two girls watched a movie together, while Prelude spent the entire show curled up in Yoshiko’s lap.

At some point, Riko had noticed the time and wondered aloud if Yoshiko would be able to make the last bus back to Numazu. Yoshiko was confused by the question and had to check the schedule. Riko had wondered if the younger girl had bothered to check the schedule earlier. To Yoshiko’s dismay, she had already missed her bus. Thus, Riko had ended up offering to let her stay for the night and pulled out the guest futon.

After another movie, the two turned in for the night. Riko had noted, with a bit of jealousy, that Prelude chose to sleep on Yoshiko’s futon instead of Riko’s bed or her own dog bed. In the morning they went for another walk and enjoyed a quick breakfast before Yoshiko headed back home. Unfortunately, without her phone, it would seem.

At least it was early enough in the day that Riko wouldn’t have the same problem returning home as Yoshiko did yesterday, she thought as she took a seat in the bus.

----------

“Ah, Riko-chan.” A voice called from behind her.

Riko startled and spun. “Oh, uhm… M-Mrs. Tsushima.” She said upon recognizing the blue-haired woman. “I thought… My mother said you were at work?”

Yoshiko’s mother paused for a moment. “Oh dear, I believe there must have been a miscommunication. I said I was on my way home from work. It was just a minor emergency that I was able to address quickly before returning.”

“Oh, well… I came to bring Yoshiko-chan’s phone.”

“Yes, I figured as such. That was very kind of you. My daughter should be grateful to have such good friends. Elsewise she would have had to retrieve her lost belongings on her own.”

“She’s helped me in many ways as well.” Riko said, remembering the events leading to her getting past her fear of dogs.

Mrs. Tsushima smiled. “Well as thanks for today, why don’t I make something for lunch, if you don’t mind eating a little early, or later, if you intend to stay for a little while.”

“I can stay for a little while.” Riko said. “I don’t have any other plans until later this afternoon.”

Mrs. Tsushima nodded and let them into the complex. Inside, they took the elevator up several floors and walked down the hall to the Tsushima apartment.

“My daughter is likes to stream when she is home on the weekend.” Mrs. Tsushima explained as they removed their shoes in the entry. “So she’s probably in her room.”

“Thank you.” Riko nodded and headed toward her friend’s room. Streaming? She thought to herself. Perhaps she shouldn’t stay until lunch. She was about to interrupt Yoshiko’s session and wanted to keep the interference to a minimum if possible.

Upon arriving, she knocked on the door. No response. She knocked again.

“Yeah, Mama, c’mon in.” a voice called from within.

“Uhm, actually, it’s…” Riko started as she opened the door.

“Wha?!” Yoshiko startled from her seat at her desk. “Riri?!” She dropped the controller she had been holding. In her attempts to catch it, she fumbled, causing it ricochet off the edge of the desk and hit her in the face as she leaned forward. “Kyaa!” She cried, recoiling in such a way that her chair spun, and she slid off onto the floor. “Ughn….” She groaned.

“Yoshiko-chan!” Riko rushed forward and knelt beside the younger girl. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah, I’m…” Yoshiko pushed herself up enough to see her screen and sighed. “I lost…”

“Lost?”

“My match.” Yoshiko accepted Riko’s hand and pulled herself up to her feet.

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine.” Yoshiko shook her head before smiling strangely. “Though perhaps as punishment, Yohane should have Riri play a match.”

“Eh? Me?”

“Kidding.” Yoshiko chuckled. “Unless…”

As Yoshiko straightened her skirt and halo, Riko turned to the screen. Sure enough, the words “You Lose” were displayed in English overlaying a camera slowly orbiting what Riko assumed to be the two competitors in the match. The one on the ground was surely Yoshiko’s character and the one posing was whoever had won.

There was also a flood of text scrolling up the side of the screen.

“Eh?” Riko blinked as she recognized her name among the scrolling text. Or rather, Yoshiko’s nickname for her, accompanied by a myriad of emojis and other icons she didn’t readily recognize.

“Hey!” Yoshiko suddenly said, leaning forward toward the camera. “What have I told you all about Riri? Only Yohane is allowed to use that name bestowed upon one of her favored little demons.”

For some reason, Riko wasn’t surprised when the text sped up and the frequency of her nickname being typed increased.

Yoshiko growled something Riko didn’t understand but retrieved her controller and took her seat again. “Sorry, Riri, the horde sometimes doesn’t listen to their mistress when they get too excited.”

“And they’re excited… to see me?”

“Of course!” Yoshiko grinned. “Who wouldn’t be excited to see someone as wonderful as Riri?”

Riko felt heat rise in her cheeks. “A-and they know about me and that… nickname?”

“Well yeah, Yohane takes great pleasure in telling her little demons about those she favors most, such that some may ascribe to ascend to such greatness as well someday.”

Riko couldn’t help wondering what sort of details about her friends Yoshiko might share with her followers. Hopefully nothing too private. Still, despite the embarrassment, she couldn’t deny that it did make her feel good that Yoshiko held her in such high regard.

“A-anyway, you forgot this at my place this morning, Yoshiko-chan.” Riko held out the phone.

“Wahhh!? I didn’t even realize!” Yoshiko grabbed the device. “Thank you, Riri! Thank you!” She paused for a moment, apparently realizing she had once again dropped her persona. She cleared her throat. “And as a token of gratitude, Yohane shall rescind the punishment.”

“I thought you were just kidding about that.”

“Well… the horde seemed to think it was a good idea.” Yoshiko admitted, jutting a chin toward the screen. “But Yohane doesn’t want to force one of her favored little demons to do something she doesn’t want to do.”

“I never said I didn’t want to.” Riko pointed out. “I was just a little surprised by the offer. And, I’ve never played a game like that before, so I’m not sure how good I would be.”

“It’s not a matter of how good you are.” Yoshiko said, pulling open a drawer from her desk where she retrieved a second controller. “It’s about having fun.” She handed the device to Riko.

“Oh, uhm… alright.” Riko accepted the controller.

“Go ahead and grab that chair.” Yoshiko motioned in the general direction. “I’ll get things set up for a local game.”

Riko nodded, slid the chair next to the other girl and sat down.

“Alright, quick rundown of the controls.” Yoshiko indicated each button, named it function and added a small tutorial about combo moves.

Riko swallowed down her nervousness, telling herself it was little different than being on stage in front of an audience. Except the audience was watching through a camera. So maybe it was more like a PV? Except it was live. So… somewhere in between?

“Yohane shall go easy on Riri for the first couple matches.” Yoshiko said as she selected a character, an angelic girl with one black and one white wing. “Oh, the next guy over is a good beginner character.” Yoshiko pointed toward Riko’s selection.

“Alright.” Riko made her choice of a muscular man with classic anime-esque spiked hair and a very strange sword.

“Ku ku ku.” Yohane chortled. “Fallen Angel Yohane verses Little Demon Riri! Heaven or Hell! Dual 1!” She intoned, mimicking the game’s announcer surprisingly well. “Let’s Rock!”

Riko fumbled through her first combo and was disappointed when Yohane blocked the first blow and followed up with a counter. Yoshiko giggled and tripped Riko before backing off.

“This is Riri’s first match, so of course Yohane is going easy.” Yoshiko said. “I thought I already made that clear.”

Riko assumed she was responding to something she saw in the endlessly scrolling chat but wondered how the other girl was able to read it while concentrating on the game.

Riko made another attempt to attack and got a little excited when the first two hits managed to connect. But, no surprise, Yoshiko turned things around quickly and delivered a devastating combo that wiped out more than half of Riko’s health bar. Riko grunted and attacked again, only to be countered yet again.

“Slash!” the game and Yoshiko said in unison.

“But…” Riko started to protest.

“Yohane said she would go easy.” Yoshiko explained as though reading Riko’s mind. “But she didn’t say she would just let Riri win. And besides, that was just Round 1. Oh, here we go…”

Round 2 proceeded in a similar manner to Round 1 and it wasn’t long until the overall match was won by Yoshiko.

“So, do you wanna keep using that guy or try someone else?” Yoshko inquired as the character selection screen came back up. “Oh, you can also choose alternate costumes by using different buttons.”

“I see.” Riko took note. “I think I will use him a little while longer, until I learn more.”

“Alright.” Yoshiko nodded. “Well, I’m going to change things up and use her.” She moved her selection box to a short girl wielding a ship’s anchor as big as her. “She’s one of the hoard’s favorites.”

The second match, not surprisingly, went about the same as the first. However, Riko did find herself highly amused by the colorful sea animals that appeared during the special moves Yoshiko used. She could see why the audience liked that character.

Then it happened.

Riko’s eyes widened as a huge pink whale, breached across the screen to crash down over her character, along with a tidal wave of water. The remainder of Riko’s health bar was destroyed and the match was over.

Hearts, whales and other emojis flooded the chat and Yoshiko giggled.

“Heh, managed to actually pull it off again.” Yoshiko said with a toothy smile, seeming to forget her fallen angel persona again.

“What was that?” Riko asked.

“One of her super moves.” Yoshiko explained.

“It was very… cute.”

“I know, right?”

“Even if I did take a lot of damage from it.”

“Well, again, it is one of her super moves.”

“Can I try her next?”

“Of course!” Yoshiko excitedly turned her controller toward Riko. “It’s not the most complex combo, but I sometimes struggle to get the timing right when in active play.” She demonstrated the button sequence.

Riko nodded, selected the anchor-wielding girl and the next match began.

----------

“Oh, is that the time?” Riko asked, happening to notice Yoshiko’s alarm clock out of the corner of her eye.

“Hm?” Yoshiko turned her attention to where Riko was looking. “Oh… heh… I guess we have been playing a while, haven’t we? Time flies like an angel when you’re having fun, huh?”

“Mm…” Riko nodded.

The two girls had been playing, almost nonstop for over three hours. Riko barely remembered Mrs. Tsushima delivering a lovely, light lunch of mini sandwiches and crudités; easy finger food for gaming, as Yoshiko had described it.

During the session, Riko had started to learn how to skim chat with the side of her vision as her primary focus was on the game. As such, she was eventually able to join in on the conversation. She wasn’t nearly as good as Yoshiko, and missed some things and misunderstood others, much to every else’s amusement. Still, she found that the interaction enhanced the overall experience. And she now had a better understanding as to why Yoshiko loved streaming so much.

“I suppose I should at least get up and stretch a bit.” Yoshiko said, standing and raising her arms above her head.

Riko grimaced as she heard several joints pop.

“Eheh… Sorry, Riri…” Yoshiko offered an amused apology before twisting her shoulders to cause a cacophonous cascade up her spine.

“That… can’t be good for you…” Riko mumbled.

“This mortal shell can get a bit rickety at times.” Yoshiko finished by cracking her neck. “I look forward to resuming our practice sessions as it provides a good reminder to stretch properly. Though I do wonder who will take up Dia’s place as taskmaster.”

Riko chuckled. “She wasn’t that bad.”

“Hrm…” Yoshiko leaned forward to check something on the screen. “Ne, Riri, do you have any plans for dinner?”

“Yes, Chika-chan and I were going to write get some early drafts in so as to possibly have a new song or two before the new school year.”

Was it Riko’s imagination, or did Yoshiko’s expression change, strangely, for the briefest of moments? If she had blinked, she may have missed it.

“Ah. That sounds like fun.” Yoshiko’s normal…? smile returned. “Maybe sometime later.”

“If I may ask, was there something in particular you wanted to do or somewhere you wanted to go?”

Yoshiko pointed to where she had been looking a moment ago. “That’s the total donations I’ve received this stream. It’s more than I normally make. A lot more. And I believe that is because Riri agreed to join us today.” She paused and read several messages affirming her theory. “And I wanted to show my appreciation.”

“I see. Thank you for the offer. Uhm…” Riko reviewed her weekend plans. “Tomorrow night, I’m having dinner with my parents… But I’m free around this time, so…”

“I can do lunch.” Yohshiko offered quickly. “I was going to stream again, but I can move that to any other time.”

“Or we can eat lunch again like we did today.”

Yoshiko blinked. “You… want to stream with me again tomorrow?”

“If you’re alright with that, yes.”

Now that was unquestionably a genuine smile. Yoshiko’s eyes sparkled and her shoulders drew up with excitement. “Of course!” She cried joyously. “Riri is always welcome as a guest… no, better yet, co-host!” She turned to the camera. “Didja hear that everyone!? Riri is gonna come back tomorrow and join us again!”

The chat exploded again with emojis.

Riko couldn’t help smiling as well. It was a little embarrassing being the center of such commotion, but Yoshiko’s excitement was as contagious as it was adorable. And she wanted to see more of it. She liked seeing this side of Yoshiko.

Not that the fallen angel thing was bad or anything, but… Right now, Yoshiko was her happy human self. She wasn’t getting hurt or sick, losing or breaking anything, or anything else the fates decided to torment her with, and make Riko worry about her wellbeing. Yoshiko was happy. And that made Riko happy.

“Anyway, I had a lot of fun today.” Riko said, getting up. “Thank you for that.” She turned to the camera. “See you all tomorrow.” She offered a small parting wave.

“I’ll see you out.” Yoshiko popped up as well. “Be right back, my little demons. Then we’ll see who else is brave enough to face Yohane in combat.”

Still giddy with excitement and bubbling about plans for tomorrow, Yoshiko escorted Riko to the door. From there, Riko bid her farewell to the Tsushima family and headed home for the day.

----------

Riko’s brow furrowed and she grunted in frustration. Another match lost. She sighed and set her controller down on her desk.

Or rather, it was actually Chika’s controller. While the two of them were composing in Chika’s room, Riko had noticed the device and asked if Chika had the game she had played earlier that day.

Chika did not actually own the game but had been able to show Riko where to obtain it for herself, as well as order her own controller. In the meantime, while awaiting delivery, Riko was able to borrow Chika’s device, which Chika also showed her how to pair with her laptop.

So now, several hours later, Riko was practicing for the next day’s stream.

Suddenly, a notification popped up in the lower corner of her screen. Riko leaned forward and moved the cursor to click on it. A new window came up with a message.

Sventa: Greetings

Sventa? Had that been Yoshiko’s screenname? No, Riko was pretty sure it had something to do with a fallen angel. Actually, that literally was her screenname, Riko remembered, TheFallenAngel. Perhaps this was one of her other friends? Maybe Chika? She didn’t have the game, but she had the program through which it was installed and run.

YuriYoukai: Hello

YuriYoukai: Is that you, Chika-chan?

Sventa: No

Sventa: I do not believe we know each other

Sventa: But I am a fan of Yohana-sama’s streams

Sventa: Are you the same little demon Riri that appeared on Yohane-sama’s stream today?

Riko paused, wondering if she should confirm.

Sventa: If you are, I wanted to say that you made for a very fun stream

Sventa: We got to see a rare side of Yohane-sama because of you

Sventa: You are obviously someone she cares for deeply

Sventa: She talks about you and some of her other friends a lot

Well, Yoshiko had admitted as such earlier. Riko wondered again what all Yoshiko talked about with her followers.

Sventa: But this was the first time she’s brought one of you onto her stream

Sventa: And it was fun to see her having so much fun

Sventa: So thank you for that

YuriYoukai: You’re welcome.

Riko wasn’t quite she sure had really done anything worth thanks, and she had fun as well, so… Well, she had thanked Yoshiko herself, so maybe this individual just wanted to do the same.

Sventa: And now you are playing this again

Sventa: Practicing for tomorrow?

YuriYoukai: I didn’t win a single match against Yoshiko-chan

Sventa: That is true

Sventa: But Yohane-sama is an experienced player and you only started playing today

Sventa: Still, I must say you showed great potential

YuriYoukai: I still can’t win now

Sventa: But you are having fun, right?

YuriYoukai: Yes

Sventa: That is good

Sventa: And more important that how good you are or how much you win

Riko chuckled as she remembered Yoshiko saying something similar.

Sventa: Still, perhaps I can offer some advice?

Sventa: The character you used today was my first favorite when I first started playing

Sventa: And I would be happy to recommend some other characters as well

Sventa: Even the one I know Yohane-sama struggles against

Sventa: Perhaps you can catch her off guard

YuriYoukai: There is a character Yoshiko-chan struggles against?

Sventa: The game is a complex set of Rock Paper Scissors, with every character having strengths and weaknesses

Sventa: Some of these strengths can be exploited against the weaknesses of others

YuriYoukai: I see

Sventa: A skilled player can still work around it all and win

Sventa: But if they are not expecting their opponent to know certain things, they will not be ready for them

Sventa: I think it would make for a really fun stream if you were able to surprise Yohane-sama like that

Riko smiled. That did sound like fun.

YuriYoukai: Alright

YuriYoukai: Teach me what you can, Sventa-sensei

The other player invited Riko to a network game and the two started playing.

----------

Author’s Notes Continued in Followup Post

[samtheflamingomain]

25.21%

I've been sober for 3 months today. 92 days. 25.21% of 2021.

I could've posted more updates, more milestones (it took a LOT not to post on Day 69) but I wanted to kind of save it up for a Big Day. It was also a decent way to continue to incentivize my continued sobriety: a full pass to do a shameless, hardcore bragging sesh.

Anyway, this post comes in 2 parts: the TL;DR for those who only want the gist, then more in depth on my ability to stay sober, the lasting effects of rehab, etc.

I tried my damnedest to pare this absolute novel down, but it's long, so feel free to dip out if you just get bored. Onward!

TL;DR: I went to rehab the beginning of July for 3 weeks and haven't had a drop of alcohol since. I've lost weight, I'm more healthy, my daily anxiety level went from 8 to 2, I haven't had an anxiety attack in 3 months, and everything generally just seems... easier. My memory and concentration have improved. I've been productive and I've been meditating every day. I'm saving money, and while I sometimes fantasize about getting drunk, that's usually all it is.

Honestly, it's been much easier than I expected, but I think a lot of that is because for the first 3 weeks, the time in which I would usually break down and start drinking again when trying to get sober myself, was spent behind a locked door. So far I haven't had any days where I was close to giving in. I haven't had many days where I've been depressed about it, missing it or really tempted. Maybe 3-4. I've basically just gotten on with my life as if alcohol doesn't exist.

To wrap up the short version for those ready to peace out, I'll leave it with a bit of advice.

I don't feel qualified to give any specific advice, because my story feels very unique to me, and I honestly don't think what worked for me will work for MOST people. Sometimes people spend a year in rehab and still drive straight to the liquor store on their way home.

That said, there's one thing that I've found pretty universally true: you have to really want it. For a while, I floated about without much of a "reason" to stay sober. I don't have a spouse, kids or a job I've been fired from, so I didn't see the point.

It's taken me a while, but after not being "convinced" by a few superficial "reasons" like weight loss and saving money, I thought I needed something more... permanent? Consequential? I now realize that my "reason" for getting sober at a young age after only a few years of alcoholism is that I don't want it to get to a point where I'm hurting other people, drinking myself into multiple lasting health problems... I don't want it to become permanent or consequential.

Anyway, that's my two cents. If you do have something like kids or trouble keeping a job, definitely use that as your reason. But for anyone who's a pretty "functional" alcoholic like I was, "not letting it go on long enough to become disfunctional" is a good enough reason.

This is going to get stupid long, so feel free to walk away now, just glad you read this much and it really does mean the world when people listen to what I have to say.

Now some more things in depth. I'll go in chronological order: what made me get sober, what I took from rehab (and what I left), and how it's been the past few months.

I started drinking when I got kicked out, manic out of my mind and homeless unable to sleep. It took a while until I was able to sleep without alcohol, but by then the addict brain had taken over. I'd tried a few times to get sober myself, but I never made it more than a week without, and always got back to daily drinking after a few months maximum.

Some people need a "wake up call", a "last straw" or a "rock bottom". Something external to make them realize they can't go on as they are. For me, the catalyst was my health, which is more of an internal reason I suppose. I didn't have a heart attack or liver failure, but my anxiety was getting uncontrollable and I knew it was directly tied to my drinking.

My life had been starting to feel tolerable, and I was more financially secure than ever before. Things were looking up... except for the alcoholism. This is a weird analogy but the only one that makes sense to express why, if I was doing so well on paper, I decided to go to rehab: you have to sweep before you mop. If I hadn't been in the place I was, I don't think I would've been successful at rehab. I had to sweep up the cat turds from the floor of my life before I was able to mop up the shit stains with sobriety. I know, I'm a true wordsmith.

When I finally called the hotline that hooked me up with a bunch of different rehabs, I knew I was in for a wait. It was about 5 months from that call to checking in, which isn't too bad considering I've been on the waitlist for a neuropsychiatrist in ALL OF CANADA for 4 years.

That brings us to July 12th, Rehab Day One. I've gone in depth in multiple other posts but to touch on it briefly, if I had to describe my experience in a sentence I'd say "the place I went to got very lucky with me".

What this means is that, of the 5 people in my group, I think this exact program was only ever going to help me. At the same time, I didn't even know what I would need, but this exact program was 90% of it. I didn't think 3 weeks would be long enough, but for me it was. The hours-long, repetitive, basic-ass CBT groups held 5 times a day 7 days a week was absolute torture for everyone but myself. While it was a drag to spend an hour on defining what a cognitive distortion is, the routine and repetition, something I've never gotten out of any outpatient program, helped me to really absorb the information and let it rewire my brain.

I've always said that I'm someone who should be spending an hour a day with a therapist for the rest of my life, and while that's not even remotely feasible, this was as close as it's ever gotten, and it proved me right, because it worked. I've done biweekly therapy for a short time but even that didn't come close to the way my brain changed in those 3 short weeks.

This program required absolute commitment and open-mindedness. This isn't because it was hard work or difficult concepts, but quite the opposite. While I hate the entire concept of art therapy being used as a cure-all for mental illness, I willingly got out of my bed, went downstairs and tried doing a dot mandala for an hour because I'm willing to try anything to get better. A lot of people might think they are, but really aren't. To use the mandala as an example, one guy was really into it, I wasn't, but we both finished. The other 3 tried, messed up a few times, and then scrolled through their phones. When I say this program necessitates complete engagement, that's not a compliment. It shouldn't be a chore to engage with the program. It shouldn't take me actively saying "I know I've known this basic concept since 4th grade, but maybe hearing it again will help" to get something out of a rehab program. So again, in every way, I got lucky, and so did they.

Before I finish with the rehab section, having had a few months to reflect on the whole thing, I now have an endless list of things wrong with it. I arrived, greeted by the most jaded and disillusioned of staff, and quickly became disturbed and at points concerned with just how negligent the staff are.

Maybe it's because I've been on the psych ward where they won't even let you have shoelaces and shine a flashlight on your face every half hour through the night, but it could've been so incredibly easy to sneak in alcohol. I brought 2 full water bottles, fully expecting to have to dump them out upon arrival, but they said "nah it's fine". Is it though?

Then there were actual counsellors there who were... okay. I recall one, the one I thought was the smartest, reading a handout aloud and coming across the word "delve" as in "let's delve into..." and stumbled, then said she doesn't know that word. The room was silent. As she pulled up Google on the screen I said, "it means to dive into it". She Googled it anyway. Synonyms include "dive in". If that was the only example I wouldn't mention it, but this was the first of at least 10 words she had do Google, none past a 10th grade level, from HER OWN MATERIAL. From that point on it became clear that they had no fucking idea what they were doing.

We had one last one-on-one counselling session before we left and the counsellor just filled in boxes to questions on her computer, rephrasing everything I said to fit into the buzzwords and "lessons" we'd "learned". Example. Me: I do think I'm better able to catch myself thinking 'oh I can just have one drink' and say 'no I can't'." Her: "Okay, so would you say that you can recognize negative cognitive distortions like permission-giving thoughts and counter them with a more rational and less emotional mind?" Like girl, blink twice if your boss is holding your family hostage. She gave me some papers, detailing all the online courses they were signing me up for and options for more treatment they'd be sending me, a phone number to call and a phone appointment for the next Monday. I never got that call, the phone number is a hotline, I never got a single email from them, and given how shitty they really are at their jobs, I didn't feel the inclination to try and get those resources. If they even exist in the first place.

In summation, it was a place where it was physically impossible to get alcohol. That's really all I can say in its favor. Oh, and they let you have your cell phone.

Now on our timeline I'm back home. I want to kind of analyze why it's been easy for me.

I often said that my main goal of going to rehab was to lock me away from alcohol long enough for it to reset my brain. Most people thought that was naïve, but that's exactly what happened. But I'm well aware that my experience of "instantly became sober and literally hasn't had a single hard day in 3 months" is absurdly unusual.

I put this down to a few things. Firstly, I'm on seven different meds for my mental health. Almost all of them have their effects dulled or even eliminated when you drink. So when I noticed my mood, fatigue, memory, concentration etc all getting better at once - right about as I left rehab, I don't think it would be a stretch to say that all those meds started working properly.

Secondly, I've been keeping myself busy, but that's something I've always been good at. Now I specifically choose to undertake projects that will eat up a lot my time and put me in a state of flow. I recently made an entire card game from scratch, and let me tell you, I didn't think of alcohol for a week.

Thirdly, my other goals now get in the way of alcohol. I'm getting old and my body is deteriorating. But I've always wanted to do just one last season of gymnastics. Well, I need to lose weight for that to happen. I've already lost 35 pounds, and after another 20 I'll be ready to go. Also, I used to spend more on alcohol per month than rent. Even though I've done a few shopping sprees lately, I haven't come remotely close to how much I was spending before.

I want it more than anything. I want to be sober more than I want one night of "fun" that will more likely than not lead me back to where I was a year ago. I never want to need anything as much as I needed alcohol.

Lastly, just a few more random thoughts.

A lot of people, myself included, worried about the fact that I work at a bar as a cook, but honestly the entire time I'm there I'm thinking about food, not alcohol. If I'm hanging out with some regulars before/after, I can watch them drink and be perfectly fine with my coffee, because the coffee is $2, and I used to spend $20 after every work shift.

I also decided in rehab to start taking better care of myself as best I could. This started with getting my second vax which I'd been putting off, then an eye appointment, then new glasses, then a dentist appointment where I was informed I need to do $3000 worth of work on my implant that's erroding my bone matter, so that sucks, but I caught it early. I've also been meditating every day. In just 3 months, I've made pretty big improvements to my self-care and my daily routine.

One of my fears about sobriety was "missing out" on "having fun". A few days ago, all my housemates got together to play Mario Party, and it was kind of my first night doing something social while sober. It was a breath of fresh air - I wasn't constantly running to piss, I didn't worry about running out of alcohol, I didn't get sloppy and obnoxious as I can sometimes do. I even came very very close to winning my first game of MP. When I reflected on the night, I realized that, if I'd been getting drunk the whole time, I would've sucked at the minigames, been a hindrance to anyone unfortunate enough to be teamed with me, and likely would've stopped caring about the game itself after the first few turns.

Yesterday I was making my 4th pot of coffee of the day when I realized there was a full glass of wine just sitting on the counter. I had absolutely no idea where the hell it came from - nobody in my house drinks wine. I shrugged and poured that sweet sweet bean juice. It was only when I sat down and took a sip of coffee did I find myself thinking automatically, "this tastes so much better than wine". I only realized then that it had been rose wine, the only kind I've ever been able to tolerate. It was the ultimate moment of possible temptation, and the thought of just chugging that glass - as I may've done in the past - didn't even cross my mind.

I'm so glad to be where I am. I'm about to undergo some serious financial changes - i.e. going absolutely broke - but drinking isn't gonna help that, so I'm cautiously optimistic.

Stay Greater, Flamingos.

[katsukikitten]

Irritated

"WHAT?!" Both of you yell in unison as your chairs topple over. The sound of the crashing metal against lightly carpeted floors has you glaring straight back at a pair of ember hot eyes.

You both narrow them at the same time before the third, more sheepish party in the room speaks up.

"G..guys Calm down okay?" Izuku tries his best to come off soothing but instead he heightens the situation.

"CALM DOWN?!" The hot head across from you explodes further as the director sighs deeply, "I'LL FUCKING SHOW YOU CALM DEKU!"

"Stop coming at Izuku-kun like that. What has he ever done to you?!" You bark.

"He was born with such a stupid look on his face that's what!"

"Oh just like you were born with a stick up your ass huh Bakugou?" His eyes narrow to slits, he's about to make his normal suggestion of let's take this outside but the director cuts him off before either of you can whoop the others ass.

"Are we not adults here?!" The director smooths back his hair before staring into his empty coffee cup, "You know I was really excited when my father told me I would be the head over the top female hero and the two tied number one males but now I'm seeing why he retired early! You two even fight over Twitter!!"

"You're both a PR nightmare!" He gives you and Bakugou a sharp look, "You cannot just tell the paparazzi to fuck off cause you're not in the mood."

"But my fans like my honesty." You try to defend and Bakugou laughs almost cruelly.

"No, what they like are your fat tits. They can't make it past that to hear your foul mouth."

You bare your teeth snarling to retort but again the director cuts in.

"Enough." He glares at you and then Bakugou, "Both of you. You'll give me a heart attack before this is all over. I'm going to have to let you three go if this convention does not work out. The agency cannot handle this stress no matter how could you three are. Nezuko more coffee please love."

His assistant makes quick work of filing out of the room, anything to get away from the chaos. Director Yami pinches the bridge of his nose.

"You cannot be fucking serious?"

"Wha..Director Yami I'm sorry if I ever upset you that was not my intention but let go?"

"What bullshit is this we are the top three fucking heros?! Too much stress?!?!"

"YES!" Yami slams his fist onto the tables shocking the three of you in silence. Sure Director cusses often, snaps a few times but he never, ever raises his voice. He breathes out slowly to collect himself, straightening his tie as he does, "The company cannot get any new potential. All of the upcoming heros are worried they will be placed on important missions at the same time the three of you are on it."

"But we've worked successfully together before." You interject causing Yami's eyes to train in on you.

"Successfully sure but not well together. Izuku struggles which side to take when you or Katsuki try to lead. You both argue the entire mission and nether of you guide the apprentice or new hero."

"Not our job they should pay attention." Bakugou rolls his eyes, "It would be helpful if she just listened."

"Look at the pot calling the kettle black."

"Please!" Yami yells again, "Both of you need to listen. I'm not kidding I'll have to let you three go to different agencies. Yes you're the top heroes but you cannot live forever. The company will need to find replacements for you at some point but that cannot be done if you're always scaring them off!"

Silence falls over the room, agitation washes over your face along with Katuski's as sadness washes over Izuku's.

"Deku, Ground Zero, and Tejina will be at this comic con. Izuku to learn to have a spine when it comes to reigning you two in, to help you two get along." Director's brown eyes cut to you and Bakugou with new found harshness, "Katsuki to keep his fans interested and Y/N so you can actually meet your fans. Since for whatever reason father let you have your way on that. Not to mention 97% of this regions merchandise has one of your three faces on it and about 90% of the nation's merchandise is you three. This is a national convention."

"I just think it's a bad idea." You bite your lip and your phone weighs heavy in the pocket of your jeans. The three of you called in on your off days and for what? To be threatened to be fired over a stupid fan con. You let your eyes do a once over of that vile pig Katsuki who's toned arms are exposed for the summer sun although he wears a black tank top and black shorts. Scarlet eyes notice you looking and when you meet them it earns you a snarl before a suck of his teeth.

You roll your own as the Director breaks some of the palpable tension in the air.

"You're doing this for your fans. Do you not like your fans?" He is tight lipped as he speaks, leaning back in his chair as his eyes bore further into you.

"I love my female fans." You cross your arms. You don't realize the effect of your action, your breasts resting over your toned arms, causing them to spill over your black tank top. Izuku notices with a blush before looking away while the ash blonde stares for a moment before rolling his eyes.

"And your male fans?" Director Yami asks.

"Well let's look at the statistics of the general make up of my fans." You pull out your phone, it feels heavy as a brick in your hands as you log in, "Since you refused to do the demographic the first time we spoke of this convention I'm using my Instagram as a basis."

"It can't be that bad." Katsuki rolls his eyes as he leans back in his chair. Anger quickly melting to boredom.

"I hope you get stalked while we are there." You grumble as you find your favorite and most innocent picture.

"Wait which one? Your offical hero insta or your personal one where you're half dressed?" Yami asks in an even tone to which you still reacte violently. Like pure sodium in water.

"And what of Bakabaku and your angel child Deku?! On their own OFFICAL pages they are half naked in 75% of their pictures. Posing shirtless and in bathing suits. My posting of bathing suits and an occasional basic ass looking out at the view on my balcony in underwear and a large shirt is half dressed? BUT BLATANT MALE NIPPLE ISN'T?"

You flash your phone in his face with a picture of Katsuki at a photoshoot for a hero magazine. He looks cocky as hell with his head slightly titled, looking down at the camera with a crooked smirk, pushing his hair back with one hand, as fresh water droplets fall from ashen tips and glowing skin. The director blinks furiously at the image as you pull back your phone to look up your own page once more for comments and people's profiles.

"I'll start by reading some comments from my 'fans' aloud," You clear your throat as you start, "'Damn sugar tits why is your ass so phat.' 'Bb you is thiccccccccc' 'Bitch you finna take this cock?'"

Katsuki grinds his teeth as you read, each comment pushing him to further agitation.

"Now ask me what the picture is of."

"Gotta be you in your hero suit at the very least." Bakugou hisses as he looks away disinterested.

"No. It's a fucking selfie with a fan and our peace signs." You show him the phone and his scarlet eyes dance over the image. A rare and true smile caught on plump lips with two slender fingers brought beneath your eye, "This is the dude who commented the last one!"

The director, Izuku and Katsuki all cringe away from the glass. Izuku even seemingly uncomfortable after looking at the profile.

"They are all basement dwellers that live with their momma. I mean look at this dude. His profile picture is an anime bitch and his only photo of him self is a selfie WHERE THE LIGHT FROM HIS SIX MONITORS IS ILLUMINATING HIS FACE!!" You become heated at the end, angry that you have to scroll through these comments on the daily and block literally thousands of users that just make new accounts to harass you with. Heated enough that you lose the reigns on your quirk and everything not anchored down in the room begins to float as your eyes bore into the screen.

The glass splits from the weight of your gaze before shattering to nothing but shards and interworkings leaving you huffing. The table and unoccupied chairs slam back to the floor. Forcing you into an unpleasant reality where three sets of eyes gaze upon you.

Watching

Waiting

*Judging*

Once you realize you've lost control you blush furiously, hands flying to your lap to play with some frayed black denim on your shorts. Anything to keep your eyes averted.

Katsuki clears his throat and the Director is pulled from whatever spooked trance he was in.

"Izuku and Katsuki will be there to ensure there are no wandering hands. Right boys?"

"Who the fuck you calling boy you're like what 28? A couple years older than us and suddenly we're boys?" Katsuki spits, eyes instinctively finding you.

His stomach clenches when he sees the look on your face and he grinds his teeth, agitated all over again. Why the fuck are you making that face over some shit betas? You could kick their ass any day so why do you look so....

Afraid?

Before he can answer the dumbass question that damn Deku steals the words right out of his mouth.

"Of course we will protect Y/N." Deku sounds confident and full on in hero mode as if he were saving a damsel like he did everyday.

Unkownlingly making you feel worse. Furious and frustrated tears at your own helplessness prick your eyes. No one notices.

No one but a crimsom set of eyes, who speaks with out thinking.

"She won't need our protecting but I guess yea we can be there." His voice is so gruff when he speaks and yet his words bring you, oddly enough, some comfort. When normally even just the sound of him sucking his teeth has your skin crawling.

"Tejina we'll get you a new phone. Ground Zero, Deku you are dismissed. Plane leaves at 0800 hours tomorrow so please be packed and suited. The first day you'll be free to walk around and enjoy the con for a few hours before interviews take place. The second day will be packed as well with interviews and meet and greets."

The three of you fight some sort of emotion as he speaks. Izuku worry of letting his fans down, Katsuki agitation of the KYAAAAs he's bound to hear while you feel an emotion you are quick to overcome but for whatever reason cannot in this case, fear.

Bone grinding fear of a repeat.

The director's voice is drowned out as old, much too familar sounds, echo in your head. Foot steps that are much too sloppy and close. Glass shattering in dead silence pulling you from a deep sleep and screaming.

Lots of screaming.

××××××××××××××

Sleeping did not come easy for you that night further encouraging your intense irritation. You are the first to arrive on the still heated tarmac from yesterday's sun. Hinting about how miserable today was going to be. You took in a deep breath to soothe yourself before getting onto the private jet, just as the calming effect was setting in nails on a chalk board seemed to personify behind you.

"Oi. Did you forget how to use steps or are you gonna walk there?" You did not need to turn around to know who it was. You take an extra moment with your held breath, trying so so so hard to bite your tongue.

But like all things when it came to your temper towards him you could not.

"Walking thousands of miles would be preferable than to be sharing any sort of confined space with you." You snap stepping up two of the three steps before stopping, "In fact I would much rather this plane crash than share it with you."

Katsuki stares up at you with narrowed eyes before giving the small of your back a light push.

"Fucking same but sadly our careers are on the line if we dont make it to this convention in one piece." He bites out, urging you onto the plane as one would attempt to guide a cat. A unspoken standstill begins to unfold until the glaring match is cut short by someone clearing their throat.

"P..please glare at one another on the plane. Please." He says the magic word twice. Hoping it will have double the effect of you two being civil. Your eyes cut to shining emeralds and all you can think of is Director Yami punishing the three of you. When really it should only be the two active parties in this weird hate fueled relationship. Guilt causes you to forfeit and swallow your pride for just this weekend as you trudge up the last stepz claiming a seat by the window. Katuski opens the overhead and shoves his one and only black duffle bag into the vast amount of space before he begins sliding off his obnoxious grenade gauntlets. Placing those much more gently into the overhead.

Having you wonder with half curiosity if they are already filled with his fuel and if they are how much of a push would you need to apply in order for one to erupt. Izuku sitting across from you pulls your mind from that petty and dark place as he offers you a soft smile.

"I'm excited to see my friends from 1A." He beams to you and you smile knowingly. He must have forgotten his drunken night out with you. He told you all about class 1A. About him and Katsuki fighting, of all the fun they had. He even asked for you help so he could talk to a special girl from his class.

"Excited to see your friends or excited to see a certain *one* of your friends?" You tease, relishing over his quickly heating face as he must be relieving the night. Your question earns an almost approving snort from Bakugou as he finally takes his seat in the opposite of the aisle window seat. He digs into his pocket for his phone as he begins to sync the black over the ear head phones that rest on his neck.

"Ah..that's not it.." He tried to force a laugh and it comes out obviously fake, he attempts to divert the conversation from himself, "You haven't seen Kirishima in while right Kaachan?"

Izuku's face somehow deepens in hue as he slams his hands over his mouth having not slipped up like that in quite some time. All the while the air in the cabin seems to become charged from his mistake. You either do not notice or do not care.

"Kaachan?" You look to Midoriya and then Bakugou before slowly piecing it together, "Oh that's right you two grew up together. Man that's so fucking cute that you still call him that."

Katsuki steers his glare to you as you hold eyes with Izuku. For reasons he cannot place his rage melts to slight irritation as you finish your sentence. His ears picking up on the word cute as he watches your face form that rare true smile.

The one that makes the room seem to glow and his heart seem to race.

Race with aggravation that is but still he watches you.

"You should call him that more often. Right Kaachan?" You aim that smile at him unconsciously. He studies it for a moment before slipping his headphones up over his ears.

"Tch. Whatever." He blasts his favorite song and faces away from the two of you, not wanting either of you to see his red cheeks.

The plane ride is not as long as you now wanted it to be. You enjoyed hearing the stories from your good friend Izuku as you had not gotten the pleasure of going to UA. You had gone to a small hero academy and did not make a single friend. Too busy perfecting and controlling your quirk.

Katsuki rolls his eyes as he catches the tail end of a story, popping open the overhead to slip on his gear.

"We had so much fun. Didn't we Kaa...Katsuki?" He corrects himself last minute and your face becomes crestfallen. For some reason you liked the nickname and wanted to hear it more often. Whether it was because you knew it agitated Bakabaku with the way his broad shoulders would tense even when similar syllables left Izuku-kun's lips or maybe it was because it some how gave the hot head a very small, almost microscopic, boyish charm.

That he would have someone in his life to admire him enough to give him nice nickname. You sigh pulling at the straps of your bookbag as you three make your way across the tarmac. More than ready to get these three days of hell behind you.

A/N lol why yes this is a fourth series I've started. Why no, others are not completed yet. Why do you ask? Because I hate trying to end things with out it feeling rushed.

[millennial-star-gazer]

The Draconic Demon Within: Chapter 4: A Demon’s All-Consuming Rage

The Draconic Demon Within

Genres: Romance, Friendship/Family, Drama/Angst, Hurt/ Comfort, & New Adult Fanfiction

Vera's April 2018 Prompts: Soul, Empyrean, Savage, Memory, Trust, Fear, Unstoppable , Resilient, Supernatural (Implied) Lost (Implied) and Loathing.

Nalu Lovefest 2017 Prompts: Dreams

Nalu Week 2019 Prompts (Implied:) Lost, Curse, Trial, Treasure, Chance and possibly Bare.

Pairing: Nalu/EndLu,( Natsu x Lucy/ E.N.D. x Lucy)

Rating: M for language, steamy and mature adult sexual content (all consensual) in these and future chapters. Reader Direction is advised.(You have been warned!)

Summary: Now faced with the reality of who he is truly is, the son of Igneel must contend with the new darker instincts of his new demonic identity- all while navigating through his ever-growing, intense feelings for a particular celestial wizard. Originally a Submission (semi -au) for Nalu lovefest 2017 (on my previous celestialgeekmage account and now an entry for nalu week 2019 with chapter 3. (Also was on my earliest previous accounts of teamedwardjace/Twishadowhunter in the past. Also part of Vera's April 2018 prompt challenge from fic-writers appreciation on cosmicdragonwizard).

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Chapter 4: A Demon's All- Consuming Rage

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

A/N: Hey guys, it's your girl back again with another installment of TTDW! Fun fact: Being temporarily off work for a few weeks due to pandemic has provided some extra free time to edit and posta new chapter for this fic ( which is on account of the temporary closures of public institutions, and public spaces along with non-essential businesses/services in Ontario-the Canadian province I'm from). This isn't to suggest I'm not without fear or concern about the pandemic or potential effects on global infrastructure but at least I'm mostly coping as best as anyone can at this time. Hope you guys are all too. ( A bit more on this in the A/N at the end of this chapter .) Anyway, hope that this chapter and my other fanfics along with those from amazing writers can help you all while stuck at home. All right, that's pretty much my whole spiel for now. Without further ado, here's Chapter 4 of TTDW-Enjoy! 

(Note: Scroll down past the read more button/cut for the  designated legend menu and actual story content).

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Disclaimer: Fairytail does not belong to me, but to the most honourable Hiro-sensei instead, for whom without this work of love wouldn't be possible. 

Read Previous Chapters of TDDW and on platforms here:

(Copy and paste the links into another  window if need be)

A. Tumblr

Previous (Click Here:)  (or here: https://millennial-star-gazer.tumblr.com/post/185917542578/the-draconic-demon-within-chapter-3)

Next (Coming Soon:)

B. Fanfiction (Click Here:) (or here:  https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13113898/1/The-Draconic-Demon-Within-Reupload-from-cosmicdragonwizardaccounts)

C. A03 (Click Here:) (or here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17365061/chapters/40861307)

2. Ongoing Master  Post Of All My Writing (Click Here:) (or here: https://millennial-star-gazer.tumblr.com/post/179665258923/master-fic-rec-post)

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Legend:

Italic: Song Lyrics/Quotes (or flashback dialogue)

Bold: First Person Thoughts

Bolded Italics: Empathized, stylized Word(s) or bloodthirsty fantasies

Bolded Italics (Within and Outside Bracket) including for author's side notes also known as (A/N:) within brackets (though none for side-notes in this chapter ).

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Your body is full of rage.

Every sinew. It is easy to read.

You speak volumes with a clenched fist."

( Paolo Bacigalupi: The Drowned Cities)

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Seriously? Luce's alive?

That…. I can't...

A wave of overjoyed relief was washing over Natsu from the spectacular news about his best friend still breathing.

"Hear that Luce?!" He sobbed, not bothering to wipe the moisture from his eyes." You're alive and gonna be okay— Thank God! Really... don't ... know what I'd do without ya…," Scarlet-red eyes remained focused/trained on the face on the motionless angel in his arms.

"Pretty sure the guild and the rest of the people we know would be just as devastated if they lost such an incredible person and wizard . Glad you're okay either way though." Natsu's hands were stroking sweat-plastered strands of Lucy's hair back from her eyes with delicate care .

Really glad she's still in fact alive and kicking…

In that very moment , it was as if the world had fallen away; leaving just the two of them. Nothing else seemed to matter then . Not cold-blooded enemies in the room, or the recent battle just moments before; Not even E.n.d's unnerving metamorphosis. Just a dragon-demon and his most precious star with those subtle breaths, the visible rise and fall of her chest that somehow escaped any kind of major notice before.

Words can't even describe how relieved I am . Digits combed through Lucy's blonde tresses from crown to tip in a physical display of tender affection.

Hmm... Lucy's hair feels really nice. Natsu couldn't help but marvel at texture of her beneath his fingertips .Don't think I've ever stopped to fully appreciate it before .

"Gotta say that your hair feels really nice, Luce." Natsu voiced this innermost thoughts aloud; though his words were coming in soft. ."Smells real amazin' too."

Damn was the appealing fragrance of jasmine with a hint of cyclamen flooding his senses beyond intoxicating."like jasmine and that other flower we saw once— cyclamen, I think. . You've been using a new scented shampoo again, I see. Not that I'm complainin'."

"Psh—Listen to me" Natsu tacked on with a rueful chuckle that was still a bit thick from all that weeping before. " Gettin' all sentimental and crap. Hell... stripper would never even let me live it down if he heard . Still be damn proud of you though just like I am for how well you handled yourself in battle. Why don't we tell him all about it once you're awake and we're out of here?. Bet he'd like that . Till then, the two of us just need to sit tight and figure out our next move, okay?"

Wait ...

The fire demon's hands continued their fond movements- only for blood to freeze in his veins when noticing an unsightly contusion on Lucy's forehead; accented by a small gash just above her brow.

When did this happen? I swear those injuries hadn't there been seconds before .. .

Crimson eyes scanned his best friend's battered frame for further damage in alarm . My God... Natsu's breath caught in his throat at the sight of that line of discolorations on her legs . Not to mention all those scratches along with the small gash peeking out through the tattered remains of Lucy's Star dress .

"Oh Luce..." He sighed, remorseful voice breaking on her name. "Can see that you're in pretty rough shape right now. I'm so sorry. Honestly don't know how or why you had a delayed reaction to all the damage. But this wouldn't have happened if I only had grabbed you and run or got your spirits to transport you to their world, Hell— Maybe we could've both escaped and I could've helped kept you safe while figuring out this new demon form means for us together. Anyways, time to put pressure on your wound."

A hand tore a loose piece of fabric to apply pressure on the hemorrhaging wound. "See? You'll be okay . Gonnal get ya' all fixed up and good as new in no time ."

Damn Luce stills looks like an angel to me, Natsu mused in reverent admiration . Even with those injuries...

"Ooh- how cute!" Jackal's dervisie voice cut  through  the other demon’s reverie; whose arms automatically protectively tightened around Lucy's frame out of fierce instinct-automatic without a second though. Not to mention those two pair of eyes he could sense that set him on edge."

"Aw Damn." Jackal broke in again with a gleeful taunt that bordered on sadistic."That poor,pretty girl of you is covered in ugly bruises and scratches, Dragneel."

That little ...

Natsu's head automatically snapped around to meet Jackal with a baleful snarl. Damn was that all that black rage roaring in his veins all too consuming.

"There's that growling again" Jackal cackled, clearly unfazed at by the alpha demon's bared canines ." Bared fangs and what not. Such a shame what happened to Blondie here , or is it? You really did a number on her, huh Tempester?"

"Huh," Tempester mused, bland disinterest colouring his tone."it seems I did . Kind of forgot that my curses can sometimes have o delayed side effects on people . Who knows? That pathetic wrench might even have internal bleeding.

"You goddamned bastard!" The flame- eater raged, fury boiling over. "Lucy ain't pathetic or some kind of toy to play with ... God.. All those injuries… are you fault and . I swear that You're both gonna pay for what you did to her!"

"Oh-You think so?" Jackal scoffed with let out another infantilizing laugh —beyond infuriating .

"Someone's rattled." Tempster pointed out, listless eyes trained on the stone-brick wall ahead. "Unfortunate."

"You don't say," Jackal deadpanned, with a disdainful roll of the eyes ."But Seriously Though , E.N.D, do you even hear yourself? .I mean getting all riled up over a human girl in that way —talk about pathetic. Sure said girl is extremely beautiful with a killer bod and feisty personality to boot—I'll give you that. But is she worth losing your cool over or fraternizing with? I don't think so and neither should you . God knows all that pent up rage and aggression would be far more suited for another cause. Not to mention, you'd better off without her life tainting your judgement and hindering your full potential as the most powerful of all etherious. So let's resolve this, shall we? Hand over the celestial wizard and I'll gladly dispose of her for you . Sound good?"

" 'Sound good?'Sound Good?!’ Are you kidding me?"!

Good God did those last words only serve to incense the snarling dragon further.

" There's no way in hell I'm gonna give Lucy up or let either of you touch her!"

"Come on Dragneel-be reasonable."

"No-rot in hell!"

"Oh honestly E.N.D.-"

"My name is Natsu!"

"Well okay then, Natsu— Just calm down ." Jackal's couldn't seem to resist reprimanding the fire demon; as if he were some errant child pitching a fit ."You're being ridiculous. Anyways, tell you what. I promise to make her death as qui-"

"Shut up!"

" Quick and mostly painless..."

"I said shut up!" En.d's voice rose to an ear-splitting roar that could've struck terror into the hearts of the gods themselves. "Try anything on her and I swear I'll kill you!"

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

To Be Continued

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

A/N: Well that's Chapter 4 folks- hope you enjoyed! Now a bit more about the pandemic situation in Ontario . Like many other provinces and countries around the world,, the government of Ontario has opted to shut down/ temporarily close non-essential services, businesses, public spaces and institutions to help curb the spread of the virus for a few weeks (or more) before spring break. Such institutions include all schools and childcare centres/ services in those settings which applies to the childcare company I'm currently employed with. You know on account of most of their centres and programs being based in public schools. (Independently-run Daycares also remain closed. And yes i'm a ECE by trade for any who were wondering or didn't already). Schools and child cares were tentatively scheduled to reopen after April 5th; though the closures have been extended for another month (according to Doug Ford (the premier/leader of Ontario). Not ideal but at least it gives me some extra time for me to work on things alongside my writing(i.e editing upcoming chapters for fics and WIPS). All right folks, that's all I have to say on that subject.

As usual, please feel free to let me know what you think by leaving a comment/review , through a reblog or by any other means. Be sure to check out the rest of my writing while staying tuned for future updates of my fics and new projects along the way! (Links above, in the navigation and in bio If on tumblr . Also on fanfiction.) Anyway, take care and stay safe! Ta ta for now!

[peachyzens]

the pact.

the pact.

genre: fluff hehe, with a tiny bit of angst? (so tiny you barely notice) summary: when things don’t go right the first time, at least you have the pact you and best friend! Jaehyun made to erase the bad memories. (4,163 words) a/n: i thought of this as i was falling asleep so lets see how it turns out! update: i found this in my drafts and finally finished it after months so it’s kind of a wild ride dslkfjaldsk masterlist can be found in my bio!

“How about I be your first kiss?” Jaehyun called out from his desk, his eyes never faltering from the textbook.

“How about no?” You responded, letting the blood rush to your brain as your head hung off the edge of Jaehyun’s bed. You looked over at your neighbor turned best friend, his upside down figure still looking as handsome as ever. At your response, Jaehyun let out an offended snort.

“Hey, what’s wrong with me? You know, that chick in our environmental class would probably faint if she heard that.” Jaehyun glanced over at you, shooting you a glare. Your lips quirked up at the thought of the girl, always behind you two and shooting deadly stares into your head but loving ones into Jaehyun’s. She would always pester him for help, and disregard you whenever you had the answer just because she wants to hear it from Jaehyun.

“I mean, other than the fact that people would put an even higher bounty on my head, I’ll pass. Anyways, I’m sure it’ll happen sometime, I’m just getting impatient.” You let out a sigh, lifting up your head to just fully lie on Jaehyun’s bed. There was always something really warm and comforting about it, you just never knew what it was.

“You know, you can’t always wait for things to happen. They might never happen without any action.” Jaehyun finally tore his gaze away from the textbook, swiveling in his chair to look at you.

“Yeah, yeah, I need to do more blah, blah, blah. Fine, how about you be my ‘first kiss’ if my actual first kiss ends up terrible?” You sat up, signaling air quotes around the first kiss part. With a hand resting under his chin and a quirked eyebrow, Jaehyun signaled at you to continue. “What I’m saying is, I go get my first kiss! And if it ends up being completely terrible, I’ll take you up on that offer to be my first kiss. Just to erase the bad memories you know, I want my first experience to be a good one.” You let out a dreamy sigh, staring into space as your mind imagines the perfect scene.

You’re taking a nice stroll in the park, hands interlinked with someone you’ve come to love. He pauses, causing you to look up at him with confusion. He lets out some spiel about how much he loves and adores you, making your cheeks flare and heartbeat pick up. And then, he leans it, and just like the scene out of a fairytale, his kisses you sweetly, just like you’re in a dream.

You were interrupted from your little daydream at the sound of Jaehyun clearing his throat. “You know, it’s not that deep. But sure, I guess.” He shrugs. Your eyes light up, feeling a new adrenaline rising in your veins.

“Great, it’s a plan. Spit shake on it?” You held up your hand, lips curling into a smirk. With a roll of his eyes, Jaehyun follows your actions as the both of you spit into your hands before shaking them.

“I still never understand why you do this, it’s disgusting.” Jaehyun grumbles, leaving to go wash his hands.

“Hey! It seals the deal!” You called out, chasing after him.

Bursting into Jaehyun’s room, your breathless as you ran straight from your house. “Woah, did you bring a whole stampede or is it just you?” Jaehyun asked, amused at your disheveled appearance. He was calmly typing up his essay when you suddenly bursted in.

“You know that really cute senior guy everybody gushes about?” You spoke up, finally regaining enough air in your lungs to speak.

“There are several but go on.” You rolled your eyes, but settled yourself on his bed regardless.

“Nakamoto Yuta, the hot transfer from Japan with a lot a piercings.” You told him, watching as the gears turned in Jaehyun’s head before he nodded, signaling for you to continue. “Anyways, he followed me on instagram!” You cheered, heart beating fast at the fact as you thrashed on Jaehyun’s bed like an excited child. Jaehyun could only roll his eyes at you.

“And? I’m sure he follows everybody, he’s a pretty popular guy,” Jaehyun turned around, hands beginning to type his essay again.

“Yeah, but does everybody else get a personal dm from him?” You smirked, officially regaining Jaehyun’s attention as he turned to face you with his jaw dropped.

“Let me see that,” Jaehyun quickly put himself beside you, grabbing at your phone. You tried to fight back, but Jaehyun’s longer and more powerful arms won that battle. “Hey cutie, I’ve seen you around school, winky face, can I get a snap, smirky face?” Jaehyun read aloud with disgust. Feeling your face burning at the message being read aloud, you wrestled Jaehyun to regain your phone. You pouted as Jaehyun’s laughter rang throughout the room, suddenly feeling embarrassed at Yuta’s message to you.

“Hey! Shut up, will you? Can’t I be happy that someone called me cute and asked for my snap?” You continued pouting as Jaehyun’s laughters calmed down and he put a reassuring arm around your shoulder.

“Yeah, yeah, sorry bud, it’s just that it’s kind of random you know? And I don’t want to assume, but I’m pretty sure you’re not the only girl who got that message. Haven’t you seen him in like three different relationships the past month?” Jaehyun patted your shoulder, hands reaching up to pinch your cheeks as you sulkily batted his hands away.

“Yeah, you’re right. But hey, who knows? Maybe he is trying to change his ways, maybe I could be the one for him,” you stared off into space, that same dreamy look appearing on your face. Jaehyun could only sigh at your lovesick state, already planning in case of a disaster.

“He replied to my stories! He even responded to the memes I referenced in them and wow, I never knew someone other than you could do that! He even sent me this really cute meme on instagram, don’t you think that’s kind of personal?” You gushed endlessly over lunch to Jaehyun, who would only grunt disinterestedly in response. “Not to mention the new selfies he posted, wow, he’s just unbelievable,” you finished with a content sigh, eyes staring off into space. Jaehyun could only roll his eyes at your lovesick state, it’s been a little over two weeks since Yuta first messaged you, and now he is all you can talk about.

“Anyways, do you think you can come to the class meeting this Thursday? I have to bring someone at least once every semester, and I think that meeting would be the most painless for you.” Jaehyun asked, fork pushing around the contents on his plate as his appetite suddenly disappeared.

“Yeah of course, just send me the time and I’ll be there-oh my god Yuta is approaching! Do I look fine? My hair’s not all kinds of crazy is it?” You panicked to Jaehyun, who could only roll his eyes at his panic and respond with “you look fine.”

“Hey, y/n.” Yuta said, smoothly sliding into the spot next to you.

“Hey Yuta, what’s up?” You responded with a tone Jaehyun raised an eyebrow at, not used to seeing you in this state.

“So, I heard there’s this new fair thing on Thursday, you down to go?” Yuta asked, hand reaching up to fix a piece of stray hair out of your face. You could only feel flustered at his action, feeling your cheeks heat up and heartbeat go faster.

“Y-Yeah! Sure, I have no plans that day!” You responded, excitedly to which Jaehyun raised an eyebrow at.

“Actually-” Jaehyun spoke up before being interrupted.

“Perfect, I’ll pick you up around 5 cutie? I’ll text you the deets later, yeah? Anyways, gotta run to soccer practice, see you around.” Yuta responded with the smirk everybody went crazy over, including you. You could barely mutter a goodbye as he was already making his way out of the cafeteria.

“Oh my god Jaehyun, Yuta just asked me on a date!” You nearly screamed, finally coming back to your senses. Jaehyun could only poke at his food with a bit more strength, his appetite lost more than ever.

“Yeah, which you agreed to despite just agreeing to attend the class meeting the same day,” he muttered, lips slightly forming into a pout. A dawn of realization hit you, and you groaned.

“That’s right, sorry Jae, when’s the next one? I promise you, I’ll go to that one no matter how possibly boring it could be!” You looked up to Jaehyun with your puppy eyes, knowing he normally falls easily at them. Jaehyun shook his head and refused to meet your eyes.

“It’s fine, I’ll make Sicheng go with me or something.” He mumbled.

“I’m sorry Jae, I owe you one.”

The Thursday of your dreams and of Jaehyun’s nightmares finally came. You were in a call with Jaehyun, him being at school still for the meeting and you at home, preparing your date with Yuta.

“Do you think I should wear a dress? Or does that scream over the top? How about makeup, should I try to put a little on or do you think I’ll look like a drag queen?” You rambled on, searching through your closet as Jaehyun remained on speaker.

“Honestly, I would say dress as you would for any day. If he likes you, then he would like you no matter however you’re dressed. That goes for makeup too, I don’t think you should try it when we all know you’ll end up a disaster with it.” Jaehyun’s bored voice responded.

“You’re right! Alright, well I’m going to get ready now, enjoy your meeting, yeah?” You walked over to the phone, holding it up to your ears before Jaehyun hangs up.

“Yeah, you have fun too alright? And if anything goes wrong, I’m just a call away.”

“Of course Jae, love you!” You said before hanging up, turning back to your closet.

Jaehyun on the other hand, felt his heart racing at your final words. He was sitting on a bench outside the cafeteria, where the meeting was going to be held, with Sicheng scrolling through his phone beside him. “Was that y/n?” He asked

“Yeah, she’s going on a date with Yuta tonight.” Jaehyun replied, his chest unknowingly filled up with worry at the thought.

“You know he’s not good for her, right?” Sicheng replied, eyes lifting off his screen to check Jaehyun’s reaction.

“Yeah, honestly I never got good vibes from him, but she’s crazy over him and what position am I in to keep her away from that?” Jaehyun sighed, hands running through his hair.

“You’re insanely obvious about your feelings, by the way,” Sicheng turned back to his screen with a smirk.

“W-what? No! She’s just my best friend, and of course I would care deeply for her!” Jaehyun argued back.

“Yeah that’s true, but do you realize how your whole aura changes around her? When you were on the phone with her you had the expression of a dejected, lovesick puppy, and when she hung up your whole body deflated. So I won’t believe whatever you say, because your actions speak otherwise.” Jaehyun couldn’t argue against Sicheng’s words, because he himself knew they were true.

“Keep this between us, yeah?” Jaehyun finally spoke up, knowing he couldn’t deny his heart any further. He couldn’t even pinpoint where his feelings started, it just appeared out of nowhere. He just noticed that nowadays, when you would wrap your arms around him or hold his hand, his heartbeat would increase. Not to mention with Yuta in the picture now, he couldn’t help but feel a little jealous that there was another guy taking up your time, although he knew he shouldn’t be.

“Of course, just don’t let yourself get hurt so hard.” Sicheng could only look at his friend with a look of pity.

You took one last look into the mirror, checking your outfit for any last mistakes. You settled on wearing some of your favorite ripped jeans along with a graphic tee and flannel, something you would wear on a daily. You decided to spend a bit more time on your hair, leaving it in a half up-half down look. You were just putting your earrings on when you heard your doorbell ring, signaling Yuta’s arrival. You quickly grabbed your purse along with your phone, shooting yourself one last look in the mirror before running down the stairs.

“Hey,” You greeted Yuta as you locked the door behind you. He leaned against the wall, lazily scrolling through his phone. Upon hearing your voice, he quickly locked his phone before greeting you with a smile.

“Hey cutie, still looking as cute as ever. Ready to go?” He smiled, never failing to make your heart race.

“Lead the way!” You giggled as he held your hand, pulling you to his car. Just like the gentleman you imagined, he held the door open for you before closing it after you got in. Once inside the car, he offered you the aux, to which you happily accepted. You played one of your favorite artists, the 1975, before drifting your attention out the window as you happily bobbed your head.

“The 1975 huh?” Yuta spoke up, causing you to turn to face him.

“Yeah, they’re one of my favorite artists! How about you?” You asked excitedly. Jaehyun introduced them to you, and ever since, you have been obsessed with them. They ended up being the favorite artist of you and Jaehyun, the both of you constantly arguing about their superior song.

“Not a fan, honestly. I’m more of a Twenty One Pilots fan.” He responded, a bit uninterested. You felt your smile falter a bit, as you weren’t a big fan of Twenty One Pilots, another similarity you and Jaehyun shared.

“Ah, I see.” You responded, naturally changing the music to something the both of you could possibly enjoy. The atmosphere in the car changed following the awkward exchange, and you could only hope the rest of your night wouldn’t be like this.  

Finally arriving at the fair, Yuta parked the car and bought the tickets for your entry, much to your disagreement.

“I can pay for myself, you know.” You said to Yuta as he came back after buying the tickets.

“Now, what kind of terrible date would I be if I didn’t pay for you? How about I propose you a deal, loser at these games gets to pay for the other’s meal.” He smirked, to which you agreed.

“Fine, but you better try! I don’t want to see you purposefully losing,” you scolded in a playful manner.

“Don’t worry cutie, but I don’t want to hear you being sad after I crush you in these games,” Yuta grabbed your hand before pulling you to your first game with a wink, one that made you blush.

Just as you thought, Yuta would be winning the games at first before “messing up” the last second resulting in his final loss. When you would call him out on it, he would cheekily shrug before urging you to pick your prize. After several rounds of games, the both of you finally decided to grab something you eat. Yuta ushered you to sit down as he went to get the food, claiming it was the “loser’s duty.” You couldn’t help roll your eyes, knowing he was more than capable of beating you in every single games. Either way, his persistence to not let you pay made your heart flutter a little bit.

You lazily scrolled through your phone, waiting for Yuta to return with the food. After a while of waiting, you locked your phone and searched for Yuta, wondering what was taking him so long. You saw him standing by the food counter, but not alone. You felt your heart slightly crumble seeing him chat with another girl, standing too close to him and leaving flirty touches on his arm. You knew you two weren’t anything exclusive, but seeing him act the same way with a different girl on a date between you two, you couldn’t help but feel your heart break. Upon hearing his order get called, he finally broke away from the conversation, but not before slipping the girl his phone to what you could assume was to input her name. He shot her a wink before finally heading back to the table you were sitting at, as you sat there with anger flaring in your chest.

“Took you a little while, huh?” You brought up nonchalantly, sipping at the soda he brought you.

“Yeah, the kitchen seem pretty backed up.” He shrugged, acting as if his conversation with this unknown girl didn’t happen. You nodded, starting to eat at your food despite having lost your appetite. Yuta did not seem to notice your change in attitude, happily enjoying his food and keeping up a conversation with you despite your disinterest.

“Now that we’re full, ready for some more games?” He turned to you with a smile, one you couldn’t find yourself to return anymore.

“Actually, Yuta, I think I want to go home. Sorry, but I just don’t feel good anymore,” you muttered sheepishly, wanting to let him off as lightly as possible.

“Are you okay? Do you want me to take you to the doctor’s or something?” He asked with worry in his voice, one you couldn’t tell if it was genuine or not.

“No, it’s fine. You can just take me home.” You responded, fiddling with your fingers as he nodded. Ever since the whole exchange you noticed, you couldn’t help but think about Jaehyun’s warnings the first time Yuta approached you. You hate to say it, but he was right, old habits die hard.  

The car ride back to your house was painfully awkward, with Yuta finally realizing how uninterested you were in this date. You hated to be the party pooper, but you were too hurt by his actions to even act interested anymore.

“Thanks for the ride Yuta, and thanks for taking me out of the house for once-”

“Hey, look at me,” Yuta interrupted your goodbyes as you were ready to quickly dash into your house. You turned to face Yuta, your heart slightly faltering at his dejected look. “I don’t know what I did for your attitude to change throughout the night, but I’m sorry,” he reached up a hand to gently hold your cheek, one you could feel burning at the sudden intimacy. “I hope I can fix this,” he muttered finally before leaning in.

You felt your eyes widen at his sudden close proximity, his eyes slowly closing as he approached your face. Your head wanted to run out of the car so badly, but your heart made you keep still, having softened at his apology. Soon enough, you felt his lips on yours, your eyes still open as your whole body just froze. You couldn’t react, and just remained there frozen, with his lips on yours. Awkwardly pulling away, Yuta finally opened his eyes again with an awkward smile. “I’ll see you at school, yeah?” You awkwardly laughed, before letting yourself out the car and quickly walking inside the house. You pulled your phone of your pocket before dialing Jaehyun’s number, quickly peeking outside the house to make sure Yuta drove away.

“Hey, what’s up?” Jaehyun answered.

“Are you home? I’m coming over, god that was the most awkward moment of my life,” you responded, opening the door to let yourself out as you quickly made your way to Jaehyun’s front door. You hung up, seeing Jaehyun already waiting for you at the door.

“So, how did it go?” He asked, waiting for an earful from you. You merely sighed as you made your way towards his room, Jaehyun right behind you.

“Good at first, until I saw him flirting with some other chick.” You groaned at the thought as you threw yourself onto his bed.

“Woah, he what?” Jaehyun asked, slightly angered for you.

“He was being the perfect date and all, paying for my things before we agreed that whoever would lose the most games would pay for the meal, and he purposefully lost. We were having a really good time, but then I guess I messed it up.”

“I’m sure you did not mess it up, but go back to when he flirted with some other girl. Right in front of you? God, I knew he wasn’t good news,” Jaehyun paced around the room, a habit he had when he was angry.

“I mean, it wasn’t right in front of me, I just happened to see it. I looked over at him waiting for the food and just saw him flirting with this girl, he even gave her his number after it.” You sighed. “Calm down Jae, it’s not that deep.”

“It is that deep! How dare he flirt with another girl when he has you there with him? He obviously does not see your value y/n, he doesn’t deserve you.” Jaehyun nearly shrieked, appalled at what you were telling him. Hearing his words somehow managed to dissipate the previous anger from Yuta’s antics.

“Anyways, after that my mood just went downhill and I asked him to take me home because I didn’t feel good-“

“Oh my god and now you’re sick? What are you doing here then when you should be at the hospital? Get up we’re going-“ Jaehyun interrupted you.

“Jae! I’m not actually sick! I just said it so I could end the date faster. And can you stop pacing and calm down? I’m not even that mad over it anymore, and you seem to be more mad than I ever was. Plus, your pacing is making me dizzy.” You rolled your eyes, before scooting to the side of the bed before patting it for Jaehyun. After taking a few deep breaths, Jaehyun lied down in the spot next to you, reassuring that he was now calm enough for you to continue.

“So the whole car ride home was painfully awkward, oh yeah, and I forgot to mention we were slightly off to a bad start because he said he wasn’t a fan of the 1975 and that he’s a bigger fan of Twenty One Pilots, could you believe that?” Jaehyun snorted at your comment, ready to retort before you started talking again. “And then when I was ready to bolt out of his car, he said some mushy stuff to me and,” you paused for a second, groaning at the cringe fest happening inside your brain. “he kissed me. God, it was the most awkward experience ever, I couldn’t move the whole time! It was like kissing a fish, god that was terrible.”

“Oh my god-“ Jaehyun’s heavy laughters soon echoed around the room as he couldn’t even finish his thought. “I’m kind of interested on what mushy stuff he said to you though, probably something about how your eyes shine brighter than the moon or something,” he snorted.

“Hell no, I probably would’ve thrown up right then and there. But no, he was apologizing for supposedly ruining my attitude. Sweet and heartfelt, I guess.” You shrugged.

“At least he knows,” Jaehyun rolled over on his side to face you, you following suit. The both of you just stared at each other in comfortable silence. Jaehyun could feel his heart start racing, while you also felt an unusual but pleasant feeling arising in your gut. “Hey, do you remember that pact we made, like two months ago?” Jaehyun asked in a much softer voice, one that relaxed you.

“Yeah, what about it?”

“I think it’s time for me to follow through with my end of the deal.” He responded, eyes reflecting an unreadable emotion.

“What do you-“ You were interrupted by the feelings of Jaehyun’s lips on yours. Unlike the kiss with Yuta, you felt your eyes fluttering shut, your heartbeat increasing at the new emotions arising in your chest. You always knew that you had a special spot for Jaehyun in your heart, but it seems like this kiss cemented that spot. You felt yourself responding to his kiss, as his hand reached up to gently hold your cheek, as if you were made of glass.

Before his feelings could go out of control, Jaehyun pulled away, but with his hand still resting on your cheek. He could only stare at your face in awe as your eyes slowly drifted open; he could only think of the word “beautiful” to describe you.

“Remember when I said I would erase the bad memories of your first kiss?”

“Yes,” your mind drifted back to the pact you and Jaehyun made, all the pieces coming into place.  

“Well forget all about him, and focus only on me.”

[ailithnight]

Heyo! Another fic for ya’ll. This one was inspired by two other posts. This by @all-da-fandoms and this one from @pirate-patton. Been working on this for a while now. Felt like Virgil’s Birthday would be a good day to drop this on you.

Title: Gifts from the Dark Side Words: 2945 CW: Angst. Lots of angst. Mostly angst. Kind of teeters on the edge of a panic attack but never actually becomes one. Some self-deprecation. Tell me if I need to add anything.

Tags: @moose-squirrel05, @didsomeonesayprince, @readeatfightlove13

They appeared every year without fail, for as long as the three sides could remember. Patton, Roman, and even Logan had long since stopped trying to stay awake to see where they came from. It had taken a lot of the mind to shrug it off as one of the idiosyncrasies of the mindscape. Of course, just as Thomas had, the sides had long since stopped believing in Santa Claus. Yet every year, without fail, 3 mysterious presents would appear under the tree without so much as a tag to say who its for or who its from. It was obvious to tell based on the wrapping whose was whose. Patton’s was always wrapped in light blue paper with the same print of puppies and kittens in Santa hats. Logan’s was sleek, blue and black in a plaid pattern, methodically wrapped. Roman’s always came wrapped in a shimmering gold paper that could easily be mistaken for polished metal, each time with a bright red ribbon tied around it in a perfect bow. Every year, the gifts inside were different, but no less thought out than all the years prior.

In years past, Patton had received a coloring kit, a light blue apron with white embroidery saying ‘My Cooking is Eggcellent,’ a photo album with a picture a day from that year, and even the Heart’s infamous cat onesie had been gifted by “Santa” last year. Logan’s onesie had also come from the mysterious gifts that year and years before had provided him with an astronomically correct poster of the constellations of both the northern and southern hemispheres, plenty of books of poetry and other literary works, and one year a scale model of a space shuttle in a bottle. The play on words there was not lost on the logical side. Roman had not been gifted a onesie last year, a fact that was a slightly sore subject to the creative one. But he had received a wonderful painting of a fantasy kingdom where a princely looking figure stood atop his castle, bravely facing a massive dragon. Before, he had been gifted the collective works of William Shakespeare and one year a massive, three-foot pen designed to look like a sword. Logan had taken pleasure in teaching the Prince of the old saying “The pen is mightier than the sword.”

The presents appeared every year without fail. In turn, there would always be cookies and milk left out and space left under the tree for the anticipated gifts. Those three would be left for last and after each recipient opened his, and in some cases regained enough composure from giddy glee, they would speak aloud, thanking Santa for the generous and thoughtful gifts. For more than 20 years, this was tradition. But around year 27, something changed.

Just a little longer. I just have to stay awake a little longer. Everyone should be asleep within the hour. Then I can drop them off and fall asleep. Just a little…bit…longer. Virgil stared dully at the computer screen, not even seeing the Tumblr posts he was scrolling past. He was dead tired after the last week and a half. First, Roman had approached him saying he was going to be in a video and Virgil had dared to have hope. It was instantly dashed when he had been showed the script. The script that portrayed him as a villain Thomas had to defeat. And of course, who better to help than Roman, Creativity, The Prince. And sure, the script was all like things he had said and done before, but he’d never been this heavy handed with it. Still, Virgil had played his role, the same role he had been playing for years now, and tried not to let the knowledge that there would now be 2 million more people in the world knowing of and hating him hurt. He didn’t really succeed with that. But that’s okay. That’s his job. Anxiety.

Between filming and editing and posting the video on the 19th and monitoring its reception and trying not to let all the “thank you for helping me with my anxiety” and “anxiety sucks, I’m sorry you have to suffer it too” leave stinging gashes in his heart, Virgil had hardly found the chance to finish his projects in time. Logan’s had been easy. The book all about Native American constellations had arrived weeks ago. Even Patton’s stuffed kitten, matching his onesie, had been completed a week ago. But Roman’s had taken a lot of work. The Prince had sulked after not getting a onesie last year, but Virgil just couldn’t seem to find the right one. Finally, he had settled for painting him something and he would learn to sew and make Roman the perfect onesie this year. The pjs closely resembled Roman’s normal garb, from the shirt and sash to the boot slippers and even a stuffed crown sewn onto the hood. Virgil was immensely proud of that creation, despite having only finished it a few short hours ago. Now it was carefully wrapped in the traditional gold wrapping, sitting by his door with the other two gifts, and waiting for the moment the others would go to bed so Virgil could sneak them downstairs.

While waiting and nearly drugged by exhaustion, Virgil’s mind wandered over the Christmas’s past. He could remember sneaking down every year, starting since before any of them could read or write, hence the lack of name tags. Despite never inviting him to join in the festivities, Patton always hung a stocking for him and filled it with little treats. Someone, Roman probably, would always top it off with those chocolate coal nuggets and one year, when the Prince had discovered his summoning prowess, actually coal nuggets. Patton had told him off for that when he discovered the black powder on the white fur, so it hadn’t been real again. Still, it was a harsh reminder each year that even though Patton was too kind to give him nothing, Virgil was still naughty and naught people got coal for Christmas. But Virgil would always ignore the stockings. He’d come down later to claim it before the treats were simply stolen from him. Instead, Virgil would set up the presents first, taking extra care to arrange them in just the right way. Then he would turn to the cookies and milk.

As much as he may want to just eat them all, seeing as they were the only Christmas cookies he got, Virgil would restrain himself. He drank half the milk and ate two and a half of the five cookies. While he reveled in the sugary sweet, he’d let himself pretend, for just a moment, that they weren’t for an imaginary Santa. He let himself imagine that the treat had been left as a thank you specifically for him. For three minutes every year, early in the morning on Christmas Day, Virgil let himself believe that the other’s appreciated his efforts, that they cared about him, maybe even loved him. But inevitable, someone would shift in their sleep upstairs and the illusion would be broken. This wasn’t for him. This was for Santa. And even if Santa was fake, even if for all intents and purposes Virgil was Santa, it just wasn’t the same. At the end of the day, his companions still cared more for a fairy tail than their real, living counter-part. The cookies would become bitter on Virgil’s tongue, the milk would spoil in his stomach. With heavy heart and light footsteps, Virgil would sneak back to his room. He’d close the door and climb in bed and try not to cry (loudly) as he fell asleep.

“But WHY?!?” Virgil jerked into consciousness at the sudden exclamation heard from the creative side. Confused, he peeled his face off of his keyboard, rubbing at the indents left on his cheek from the pressing plastic. He distantly heard a muffled conversation as bleary eyes tried to see and a tired mind worked to figure out where he was. As he looked around, his eyes landed on the colorful stack still sitting by his door. His eyes widened and horrified panic filled his veins as Virgil realized his mistake.

“I fell asleep. I fell asleep! HOW IN THE HELL COULD I FALL ASLEEP!?!” He whispered to himself. Virgil tried to breathe through his fear, not really wanting to have Thomas start the day with a panic attack. With great difficulty, he managed to put a lid on his own terror. “Okay. Okay. I can fix this. I can… fuck how do I fix this? I can’t. I screwed up. I’m a failure. Pointless, pathetic, No. Stop. Not helpful. Just. Breathe. Think.” Virgil continued to fight off his panic. After a few moments of calm breathing, an idea occurred to Virgil. A wonderful, beautiful idea. He concentrated on Thomas, sensing the hosts current placement. He was still in his bedroom, searching for something warm and festive to wear. A wry smile appeared on Virgil’s face. He scrambled out of his chair on over to the gifts. He grabbed the three boxes and sank out of his room, appearing in his new place on the stairs. He marched over to Thomas’s tree were a small group of presents sat addressed to various friends and family members. Virgil carefully cleared a space under the tree and added the gifts to the mix. He stepped back to inspect his placing, pleased by the way his custom wrapping seemed to shine out of the amalgamation of festive paper. He was about to leave when a thought struck him and he nearly facepalmed himself. “How would they know they’re here? How would Thomas know who they belong to?” He groaned. After a moment of deliberation, he darted into Thomas’s kitchen, finding the nearly empty pack of tags and a pen. He went back to the gifts, slightly upset about having to mar his wrapping with the gaudy stickers, but it was necessary now since I fucked up. He hastily scrawled names on the tags. Or, titles really, seeing as Thomas didn’t know their names yet and Virgil wasn’t looking to screw up any worse today. Once he was done, he stepped back again to appreciate his work. For half a moment, his hand reached towards the table where the cookies and milk would usually sit. Realizing his mistake, he scolded himself. “Stupid. Whatever. Now they’ll never know. They’ll never know…” Virgil quickly sank out, oblivious to the eyes that had been watching him from the top of the stairs.

Thomas had no idea what to make of the situation. Coming downstairs to find one of his sides there without him was strange in and of itself. For that side to be his Anxiety was even weirder. He had noticed the spike of anxious energy that had hit him 15 minutes ago, but it had vanished and he’d dismissed it. Then, for Anxiety to be messing with the Christmas presents was absolutely baffling. Surely, he wouldn’t be so bitter as to try and ruin the gifts he had gotten for his friends? Thomas was about to call down, questioning the dark figure when he abruptly stood. Thomas froze, watching him a little longer. Anxiety nodded to himself. He seemed to reach to grab something off the table, but stopped mid-way. “Stupid.” The bitterness there made Thomas wary and once again he almost called down. “Whatever.” Thomas was once more paused. “Now they’ll never know. They’ll never know…” The defeated tone was the last thing Thomas would have anticipated from his malicious, cocky Anxiety. He watched the side sink away and only once he was gone did Thomas come down the stairs and inspect the tree. The three new gifts were impossible to miss. He glanced at them, noting the names on the labels. Logic. Creativity. Morality. His other three sides. Gifts for his other three sides. From, Anxiety? That didn’t make sense. Nothing made sense. Thomas decided to summon the three.

“Creativity, Morality, Logic!” He called, the summoned sides appearing in their normal spots. Thomas didn’t miss the tear tacks on Morality’s face, the confusion on Logic’s, or the anger on Princey’s. He gestured to the three boxes. “Know anything about this?” Morality gasped.

“Our Santa gifts!” He wiped his eyes, tears drying instantly. “Why are they out here?”

“Santa gifts?” Thomas queried. Logic cleared his throat.

“I can explain, Thomas. We celebrate Christmas just as you do. Each year, on Christmas day, we have come to find a gift for each of us in that exact wrapping, sans labels, under our tree. We have all agreed they do not come from one of us, so it has been chalked up to the strangeness that comes of living in a mind. It is possible that, within the mind at least, Santa is real enough for the subconscious to generate these presents each year.”

“Oh. But, I saw Anxiety-”

“Aha!” Princey shouted, startling the other three. “I bet this has been some cruel prank on his part!” Morality frowned.

“Do you really think he would…?”

“I wouldn’t put it past him. He has been sulking an awful lot since the video. He probably wanted some sense of revenge for being bested.” Morality still looked uncertain and Thomas wasn’t too sure himself. Even though nothing else made sense in his mind, this still didn’t seem right.

“I don’t know, Princey. Don’t you think you might be jump-”

“ANXIETY!” The Prince roared, the summoned side suddenly appearing on the staircase, stumbling slightly at the sudden teleportation.

“JESUS Princey! The hell is wrong with you! I could have been asleep. What would you have done if you dropped me unconscious down the stairs?” Probably laugh at you, Virgil.

“Did you put these out here?” Roman gestured to the gifts and Virgil felt his throat close up.

“Wh-” He had to clear his throat around the forming lump. “What makes you say that?”

“Thomas saw you.” Virgil looked at the host, who was just watching the situation unfold. Virgil dropped his head, shame at having been caught, fear at having his weakness preyed upon, and maybe just a tiny bit of hope that if they knew it was him all along, they might actually warm up to him.

“I- yeah. I did it.”

“I knew it! You stole them!” Virgil looked up startled and suddenly there was a sword pointed at his throat, a seething Prince on the other end. He tried not to imagine that blade piercing his neck, pretending he wouldn’t be at least a little relieved to die. “What else did you do? Did you tamper with them?” Virgil didn’t know how to respond. It took a moment for the word’s meaning to sink in. He thinks I stole them. THEY think I stole them. They haven’t realized…Virgil refused to feel wounded, despite the ever-present hollow ache in his heart spazzing painfully. No. This is good. They don’t know. They think I’m just being a dick, but how is that any different than normal? Virgil forced a sneer on his features, convincing seeing as it’s the same one he always used.

“Why don’t you open them up and find out? Unless you’re scared.” He taunted. The thought of actually being able to see their reactions to his gifts was definitely not a motivator to his statement at all. Certainly not. Nope. Not at all. (Yes.) Roman’s seething intensified. He pressed the blade closer to Virgil’s neck, making the anxious one shudder, whether in fear or anticipation, he himself knew not.

“If this is a trap, I’ll run you through.” He ground out. None of the others said a word. Virgil took this to mean their agreement to Roman’s threat and Virgil once more shuddered. Roman held his gaze as he reached down to pick up the gold gift. The sword vanished from his hands, but Virgil was well aware that he could summon it back in half a heartbeat. The ribbon was removed, then the wrapped, and finally the box opened. When nothing sprang out, Roman glanced inside. Virgil felt a tiny sliver of pride when he saw the way Roman’s eyes lit up looking in the box. He quelled it quickly, not wanting to reveal himself after all this trouble. Roman’s eyes came back to Virgil’s, squinting suspiciously.

“There, not a trap. Can I go now?”

“If it wasn’t a trap, why didn’t you say so in the first place, Kiddo?” Virgil turned to Patton, noticing the shocked silence that seemed to cover Logan and Thomas.

“Would he have believed me if I did?” Virgil caught from the corner of his eye the way Roman’s grip tightened on the gift. “Now, if we’re done wasting each other’s time, I’m going back to my room.”

“This wouldn’t have happened if you hadn’t stolen them in the first place.” Roman grumbled. Virgil sent him a wry smirk.

“My mistake. Next year, I’ll leave your presents alone. Maybe I’ll just incinerate the tree instead.” Before anyone could respond to that, Virgil sunk out. The second he was back in his room, he collapsed on his bed. The computer had hardly made for a very restful sleeping place. Virgil was still tired and now with the familiar Christmas day heartbreak setting in, he wanted nothing more than to hide under the covers until the sun went away. And if that meant that by the time he went back to the commons, his stocking had been emptied… well, that was just part of the consequence for screwing up. It wouldn’t happen next year.

[especially-heinous-ada]

Special Bonus! Original Part 3

Hey guys! As you may have read in my previous fic posts, my laptop stopped working the day I finished writing parts three and four of my fic, A Police Gala. I was afraid it would be permanent and I had lost the work forever. As a result, I re-wrote Part 3 and 4, but I was so in love with my originals that neither felt as good re-written. However, because my boyfriend is a wonderful, amazing person, he was able to fix my laptop, and I now have regained my original fics! So as a special bonus while you wait for Part 5, I present the original Part 3!  Let me know which version you prefer in the comments.

(photo is of the reader’s TV room) royalty free image found at https://www.pexels.com/photo/apartment-ceiling-chair-decoration-276653/

Rafael strode down the sidewalk at a leisurely pace. He was in no hurry to return home to his empty apartment after spending the better half of his night with such pleasant company. For a moment, he contemplated stopping for a nightcap, but decided against it, as he was soaked to the bone. His sopping-wet suit clung to his skin in an unpleasant manner as he walked and he cursed the cab driver under his breath. Luckily, it was a short trip from your apartment to his. He found it an amusing twist of fate. You lived so close to him, you were both involved in the law enforcement world, and yet, the two of you had no idea the other existed until now.

Once Rafael was under the building’s awning, he retracted the umbrella and gave it a hearty shake to slough off the rain before bringing it inside. He entered the building and nodded to the doorman.

“Good evening, Giles.”

“Good evening, Mr. Barba. Have a rough night?” Giles smiled, with a jovial twinkle in his eye.

“Actually, it was lovely. Until this, of course.” Rafael motioned to his entire body. “But it…perked up again at the end.” Giles nodded. The older man seemed to mull Rafael’s words over in his head.

“Take care not to catch cold.” He offered, before looking back out toward the street. Based on his expression, Rafael thought Giles might have inquired further about the events of his night, but he didn’t. He found himself wondering why. Though, he supposed he, himself, was probably to blame for that. Although Giles was a kind man and Rafael enjoyed the occasional conversation, it was rare that he had enough time to spare more than a line or two. He was always in a rush in the morning and upon the brink of exhaustion once he returned home.

Rafael stepped into the elevator and hit the button for the top floor. It was divided into two large suites—his, and that of an eccentric young tech guru. He had seen his new neighbor a few times, but they never interacted beyond a nod of acknowledgement. That was fine with him. He suspected they had nothing in common, anyway. The elevator dinged and the door opened to a hallway packed with people. Rafael groaned. Not another party. As soon as he exited the elevator, people from the hallway packed it full. He approached his door and unlocked it, wasting no time slipping inside. He placed his umbrella in its holder by the door and kicked off his shoes on the mat, too tired to take care of them properly. He sighed and crossed over toward his bedroom, wanting desperately to change into something dry and warm.

Entering his bedroom, Rafael quickly strips off the wet, heavy suit pieces and hangs them over a rack to dry. He sighs, wondering if he should even bother picking out pajamas to wear as he swaps his underwear for a dry pair. He decides it isn’t worth the trouble and slips underneath the covers of his bed. He stares up at the ceiling. Although he’s tired, his mind won’t stop racing. He’s thinking of your singing voice. Your dainty hand inside of his. The warmth exuding from your body as he stood close. The sweet nectar of your perfume commanding him to drink you in and never leave. The softness of your skin as his lips brushed against it…

Abruptly, Rafael sits up and throws the covers off of himself. He crosses the room back to where he hung up his suit. He reached inside his breast pocket to retrieve the piece of paper you had given him, wanting to store your number in his phone before he forgot. He felt the paper between his fingers and slid it out of the pocket carefully, to avoid ripping it. A frown crossed his face when he laid eyes on it. The ink had smeared and the phone number was no longer legible.

He began to laugh, unsure of how else to react. He wanted to shout, to cry out in frustration. This was just his luck.

I finally meet someone. She gives me her phone number, tells me to call her. I agree to…then I lose her phone number.

Rafael contemplated whether he might be destined to be alone forever as he sat down on his bed, feeling defeated. He had no idea how else he was going to get ahold of you, and he didn’t dare show up outside your building like a stalker. That was a sure-fire way to guarantee you filed for a restraining order. He contemplated the ways he might get ahold of you as he climbed back underneath the covers, but he knew that rich people like their privacy, making it very difficult to contact them directly. He groaned and laid down with a flop as he thought of what he was more than likely going to miss out on. God, you were fantastic: intelligent, funny, talented, warm, down-to-earth, intriguing, and incredibly sexy.

Rafael’s mind turned back to the pictures from your lingerie photoshoot and he found himself getting aroused. The combination of emotional and sexual frustration built up inside him. At least he could fix one of those problems tonight, he thought as he slid one hand down underneath the covers.

***

You let out a big sigh. Your breathing is still a bit jagged and your heartrate, accelerated. You chuckle, putting an arm over your face to hide it, as if someone were there watching.

“Rafael Barba, what are you doing to me?” you say to yourself before removing the arm to stare up at the ceiling. It had been three days and you hadn’t heard a peep from him. You even went to another charity event tonight, in hopes that he would be there. He wasn’t.

Your mind returns to the other night. The dance floor. You relive the feeling of his hands holding yours, dwarfing them in comparison. They’re big, vascular hands with thick fingers that just scream I am a man. Your memory flashes forward to those same hands cupping your jaw delicately, making you feel so tiny. His face so close to yours that you can see every detail of it, but you’re focused on his eyes…then his lips.

“Gah!” You let out a shout of frustration. He was driving you crazy. You thought that maybe after you had some release, you could get him out of your head, but to no avail. Neither your hands nor your toys were enough to satiate you when you thought of him—and you couldn’t stop thinking of him. You turned onto your side and looked over at your bedside table. The clock read 12:00 A.M.

With another big sigh, you rolled out of bed and made your way straight into the kitchen. Whistling a haphazard tune, you grabbed a fresh bottle of wine from the wine cooler and fished the corkscrew out of a nearby drawer. You opened the bottle, threw the corkscrew in the sink and walked off into the living room, drinking straight from the bottle.

“Ahh, that’s better,” you think aloud, sinking down onto your white leather couch. You take another drink as you turn on the television. If a little on-on-one time can’t chase away the thought of him, maybe wine and late night television will.

“And in other news, the ‘Date Night Ripper’ of Manhattan has been brought to justice. Today, he was found guilty on 12 counts, including rape, murder and mutilation of a corpse—”

“Sick son of a bitch.” You said, shaking your head.

“Following the verdict earlier today, the prosecutor had this to say.”

Suddenly, the live feed from the news station cut to pre-filmed footage from outside the courthouse. The caption stated that it was from earlier in the day. Descending the courthouse stairs was none other than Rafael Barba. You groaned. A reporter called out to him, and he stopped to answer their question. He talked about how the jury made the right decision and how the people of New York could sleep a little easier tonight knowing the killer was off the streets, followed by some generic fluff about justice.

It was a pretty typical statement from an A.D.A., but it was the only typical thing about him in that footage. He wore a stylish black suit with a peach, checked dress shirt and matching baby blue tie and pocket square. You were impressed by the fact that he dressed himself so fashionably. His hair was perfectly coiffed and his jawline was more structured than the five-year-plan your financial advisor had explained to you this morning in explicit detail.  You let out a strangled groan. This had to end. Now. You took a large gulp of wine and stood off the couch, moving over to your entryway, where you had left your phone in your hurry to get to the bedroom. You kept drinking as you scrolled through your contacts, looking for someone tolerable enough to call to handle the situation for you, because you clearly couldn’t do it on your own.

“Damian. I miss you.” You purr, when the handsome man answers your call. “How soon can you be here?”

20 minutes was all it took and Damian was outside the door of your penthouse suite. You invited him in and wasted no time getting right down to business. You pulled him into your room and stripped down to nothing. Laying down on the bed, you pulled him on top of you. You moaned quietly as Damian kissed you and leaned into you, positioning himself between your legs.

Damian was a model you had worked with in the past. Neither of you expressed interest in a relationship, as he wasn’t exactly the type to settle down with, but when the nights were long and lonely, you could count on him to keep you company. Though you didn’t exactly need the stimulation; right now, you needed a distraction from Rafael. It was dangerous how quickly he’d taken up space in your mind. Damian kissed and licked his way down your body, stopping to suck on the tender flesh of your inner thigh. He moved up and let out a hot breath onto your renewed arousal before grasping your hip and taking you into his mouth.

You groaned at the stimulation, threading your fingers through his hair. Suddenly, your brain flashed a vision of Rafael’s perfectly coiffed hair on your TV screen and you imagined what it would be like to grip it as he put his head between your legs. The thought deepened your arousal.

No. You’re supposed to be taking your mind off him. You remind yourself. He’s a prosecuting attorney. He’s made it clear he’s too busy for relationships. There’s no way it would work out. That night was a one-time thing. A fantasy.

You let out a little gasp as Damian changed his rhythm, quickening a bit. Yes. Damian. Focus on him. He was rather good with his mouth. You had to admit, this was your favorite part of your encounters with Damian.

 He looked up and grinned at you as he started to use his fingers to tease you. It was a cocky, one-sided grin that you’d seen before—on Rafael’s face. You growled in frustration and Damian mis-read it as arousal.

“Ay, mami. You’ve never made that noise for me before.” Now doubly annoyed, you put your hand on the back of his head and direct him back to your center. You needed to come. Now. He gladly resumes his position and continues where he left off.

“Rafael Barba, A.D.A., Manhattan.”

You felt your frustration bubble up.

“Would you like to dance?”

Damian quickened his pace and you feel the familiar pressure build inside you.

“It’s kind of romantic, don’t you think?”

       Asshole.

“I’ll call you soon, if that’s still alright with you?”

       Liar.

 You let out a loud moan as you feel yourself near climax.

“That’s it mami, come for me.” Damian says. “Come for me.” After a few moments of resisting, you give in and let the waves rush over you. You panted and moaned and muttered things, but as you come down from your high, you don’t care enough to know what you said.

You scoot away from Damian, who sits up on his feet and looks at you with a confused look.

“Who’s Rafael?”

“What?” You reply, bewildered.

“When you came, you didn’t say my name, you said Rafael. So who is Rafael, and why is he not here instead of me?” He answers. You can tell he’s pissed off. Not that you could blame him, after you said another man’s name.

“Did I really say that?” You ask in disbelief. He sighs.

“I know I’m not exactly your boyfriend, but it’s awfully messed up to fuck someone when you’re wishing it was someone else.”

“I’m sorry, Damian.” You apologize, putting a hand on his shoulder. “You should probably go home. Sorry for wasting your time. You didn’t even get a chance to get naked. I’ll pay for your cab fare.” He shakes his head.

“It’s fine.” He thinks about it for a moment. “Actually, can I have the rest of that wine?” He motions to the open bottle on your bedside table. You laugh and agree. He downs a large gulp before looking at you once again.

“Good luck with this Rafael dude,” he says as he stands up and walks toward the door.

“Thanks.” You say. “I’ll need it.” The last part you mumble to yourself as Damian disappears and you hear your front door shut behind him.

You wake the next morning and resolve that something has to be done about Rafael Barba. You can’t spend the rest of your life obsessing over a man you spent one night dancing with and didn’t even fuck. You weren’t sure what would come of you contacting him, but you knew that you needed closure, whatever that happened to be. He was an attorney, so you knew that the only place you were sure to find him was work. Luckily, you were familiar with the DA’s office. You had toured it previously as a potential donor for the DA’s re-election campaign.

 You sighed, glancing at your phone to get ready for the day. No missed calls or texts. You took your time picking your outfit, styling your hair, and applying your makeup. He needed to see what he’d been missing for the better half of a week. When you were finally ready, you picked up your phone and your purse and walked out the door like a woman on a mission. Dressed to kill and armed with charm—Rafael Barba wouldn’t know what hit him, you smirked.

[pancakecakes]

Beautiful Mistakes.

You can read it here: AO3

Chapters (Tumblr) : | 1 | 2 | 3 |

Summary: Marinette has a habit of sending asks to her favorite Tumblr user, telling him seeing his blog makes her happy, and that she’s glad he’s alive. It’s been a while for now and people have started to ship them, even though Marinette has never had the courage to reveal her true identity. One day, she forgets to switch to anonymous and sends one of her usual asks.

Tags: Ladynoir, Adrinette, fluff, Tumblr AU, Crush, Platonic Love.

Chapter 2: Mysterious Lady.

It had to be destiny, or a beautiful mistake, as Adrien liked to see it.

Have you ever had the need to go back as far as you can into the past to try and find the very exact moment when everything started?

Adrien felt it, as strong as the strength of the first love made him feel it. He was disappointed when he noticed his lady started to use her identity as Ladybug after she sent her first messages.

In fact, it seemed like she had sent several messages to him before using her usual ladybug emoji to distinct herself from other anons. He went a couple of months back and the first message he found with the ladybug emoji was this one:

  Anonymous said:

Hello, my kitty! It’s been a couple of days since my last ask. From the text post you shared earlier, I think what I like the most about you, is how sweet you are with everyone. And, a friend shared some of your posts some time ago and I loved your blog and immediately started following you! That’s how I found you. Sometimes I think it was destiny, and some other times I think it was a beautiful mistake, because now I can’t stop coming to your blog every day. Have a wonderful day tomorrow! -LB.

  A beautiful mistake. It was Ladybug’s words, but he couldn’t stop thinking about it. He knew even though Ladybug used the word “mistake” she didn’t mean it in a negative way.

He scrolled even further into the past. He was used to get several asks every day, so he wasn’t completely sure what anon was originally his sweet Ladybug. Maybe he’d never know, at least not if he never managed to discover Ladybug’s real identity.

He chose some messages and decided to believe those were the first messages Ladybug sent him, but at the same time he felt he needed to know the exact moment and the exact messages she really sent him.

He had been on Tumblr for almost five years. He used it to distract himself from the monotonous life he had. Every time he would feel sad or bored, he would log in and laugh at vines, memes and text posts. He’d also share some love related content, and some personal text posts.

He’d wake up pretty early in the morning. Natalie, after making sure he was ready, would start reading the schedule for that day. Sometimes it’d be a photoshoot, a formal event, lunch with older people or other boring activities.

He had always been home-schooled. He had to practice piano at least one hour and a half a day, study his subjects and practice his Chinese and sgrima. His life was really interesting from the outside, and he loved to do every single thing he practiced, but he still felt somewhat empty. Something was missing from his life, and excitement soon abandoned him as he started to grow up and everything kept unchanged.

This excitement was recovered when Ladybug appeared in his life.

He would excitedly wait every night for Ladybug´s anonymous message wishing him luck next day. This was something new to him, and he knew it; it had to be love.

Love takes time and boy, Adrien spent more than a year and a half crushing on a mysterious lady.

First, he felt a warm sensation when Ladybug started to message him every day. He started to feel like he belonged somewhere. Then he started to feel hot every time Ladybug shared something about her daily life, such as photos or videos.

Thanks to the videos and photos he knew Ladybug was living in Paris, but it was impossible for him to find her with so little information and vague hints.

He would try his hardest to visit the places where Ladybug was when she took some of the photos and videos. It made him feel even closer to her, and he kept hoping he might see her someday.

Anyway, doing so was hard. His father was really strict with his time outside the house, but Natalie would let him make small get aways into some coffee shops and some restaurants from time to time. Natalie was always like this, she always did her best to make him smile, even if it was just a little.

Maybe he never got the chance to run into Ladybug in person, but he knew that whenever he stared at the sky, Ladybug could be staring at it too somewhere not so far away, and that thought made him keep his hopes up.

He tried to find her several times. He once typed “Ladybug” on Tumblr´s tags and the top blog was the famous “Fashion Princess”, a girl who was popular on Tumblr for her excellent taste in clothes and her enormous talent as a young fashion designer. He knew the name of the girl because she had the opportunity to work for his father after she won a contest. Her name was Marinette.

He and his father were really surprised when Natalie told them the winner was a girl with the same age as Adrien. He’d never forget her name, he admired her in many ways even though they haven’t had the chance to meet in person.

Despite the possibility of his lady being the Fashion Princess—because she followed him and sometimes she liked some of his posts, he decided to drop it. He shouldn’t project his desires to find her into a famous fashion girl on Tumblr, no matter how much he admired her.

He was really close to message her though. For a couple of days, he was tempted to do it, but he would always give up before actually doing it.

He was sure his lady could be famous, but at the same time he knew she was a normal girl with normal hobbies and the sensation he felt whenever he thought of her was the same he felt when his mother was still around; the feeling of being in home, the feeling of being happy and not alone. Ladybug was a normal person, not someone unapproachable or some kind of Goddess.

Well, she was kind of unapproachable with all the anonymous situation, but she was the cutest and sweetest girl Adrien knew- well, kind of knew. After one year of answering her anonymous messages every day, Adrien was completely sure he loved that girl, it didn’t matter how she looked or who she was in real life when she was not protected by the anonymous mask.

It was a complicated feeling. He knew he loved her, but he fell for her without even knowing her real name, how her face looked and knowing just too little about her real self.

For him it wasn’t that strange, but he knew people would think he was strange. Deep inside he knew he didn’t care too much about other people’s opinion, but what if Ladybug thought he was strange because he fell in love with her under the current situation? He would absolutely care if it was the case.

He decided to ignore it- at least most of the times. He wanted to know her blog so bad, it was super unfair, Ladybug got to see his blog but he couldn´t see anything from her but the things she sent.

Not that he was being ungrateful since Ladybug sent pictures, videos and text posts quite often during the day, but as the time passed, he felt it wasn’t enough. He wanted to know her, to truly know her. He wanted to have private conversations, know her dreams, fears and all the things she hid from everyone else. The things she was afraid to say aloud, those private things that are shared only with your closest acquittances.

He was looking for a deeper connection. He wanted to be the closest friend with the person who made him this happy and excited about everything again.  

Being the closest friend didn’t mean spend all their time together, but to know each other so well that even when they were apart, he could truly understand her and support her the way she needed and deserved. It also meant for him to close his eyes and know deep down in his heart Ladybug trusted him the way he trusted her.

Adrien had the fear that someday Ladybug would disappear from his life without a notice, and it didn’t look so impossible since his luck had never been so good.

He knew he would be really sad, and he knew it would be impossible from him to truly forget her, but at the same time he knew his life wouldn’t stop if she wasn’t there.

Is this how love feels? She made him feel powerful, and the thought of losing her made him sad, but not helplessly lost. Even if Ladybug had to go away from his life someday, he would treasure every memory and everything she ever did for him, and live his life the best he could. Just like he did when his mother…

It’s true Adrien thought it wasn’t enough, but oh, it was perfect even in its imperfection. It was worth it, it was comforting. She was home.

  --

  “Hello?” Adrien asked as he picked up an unknown call. He never gave his personal number to anyone, and he didn’t have much friends. He wasn’t sure what to expect from it.

“Hello, Chat Noir” The mysterious voice said.

  Adrien froze. First of all, he was pretty sure no one knew about his Tumblr. Second, it was the voice of a girl, and since he didn’t have her number saved, it could be anyone but someone he knew. Before he had the opportunity to say anything, the girl laughed.

  “I’m sorry, my name is Alya. Do you remember me? I had an interview with you some months ago. You game me your personal number because we spoke a bit afterwards. I never called you until now”.

He sighed in relief. Alya, he remembered her. She was the leader of the Ladyblog, a fan club of people loving the idea of him and Ladybug being a thing. He met her before Ladybug came into his life, but he had some interviews with her afterwards.

The last time they saw each other, he admitted being Chat Noir and that he was deeply in love with Ladybug. Alya told him that she would do anything to find her, and if that day arrived she would tell him right away. He then gave her his personal phone number and then eventually forgot about it.

“Oh yeah, I remember you. I’m sorry” Adrien giggled “you surprised me”.

“Wait for it boy, I haven’t even said anything”.

Adrien’s heart skipped a beat. He remembered what Alya said the last time he saw her, that she would call him once she found out Ladybug’s identity. He tried not choke and tried to breathe normally.

“What do you mean?”.

“Well, let’s just say I just got home after a date with your mysterious lady”.

  Adrien’s cheeks felt hot.

He waited for this moment for months. At the same time, he felt bad about it because he knew Ladybug was against revealing her identity, and he would prefer if she personally told him. He also felt a little jealous, how many people out there knew Ladybug’s real identity?

“To be honest, I promised I wouldn’t tell anyone about this” Alya said in a disappointed tone “but I wanted to tell you that she is closer than you think. And who knows, maybe someday she will agree to tell you who she is”.

This felt right. Yeah, life is never easy with the things that are worth fighting and waiting for, and he would wait years for her. Still, the sound of disappointment in his voice was impossible to hide.

“I know she is, and I’d wait the time it takes for her to trust me enough, it doesn’t matter if it’s a thousand years” Adrien laughed. It was a nervous laugh, but at the same time a sincere one.

Alya laughed and then said in a sweet tone “Oh, I think she trusts you. Just give her time. I’ve got the feeling she just don’t want to mess things up. This is as important to her as it is for you.”

“You really think so?” his voice sounded more excited than he wanted it to sound.

“Yes, I’m sure of it.”

“But how can you be so sure?”

“There are times when you just know.”

  Yeah, she was right, there are time when you just know.

Ten months passed really fast. His relationship with Ladybug flourished into a really close and beautiful relationship. They’d now do more things together, and Ladybug was now part of his blog.

He was no longer afraid of she leaving him.

At this point, she being there for him was something normal, just as natural as breathing. He always kept the hope of someday meeting her in real life, but at the same time it finally felt enough. Or at least that’s how he felt in that moment, he was also afraid that once he met her, he would never get enough of spending time with her, but for now, just the presence of Ladybug in his life was enough.

And now, there was this new fear that would haunt him a couple of times every month. What if they didn’t get along in real life? Adrien had read a lot of text posts of people telling their experience of knowing people online and then after meeting in real life, realizing it was not the same.

Again, he tried to avoid thinking about it. There was no use of worrying about such things. 

Things would be the way they had to be.

From a couple of months Ladybug had been joking about revealing their identity. He knew this could be she trying to get used to the idea of revealing her true identity. He just needed to be a little more patient. He was so close to know her, to really know her.

  --

One day, at an event Chloé’s father held, Adrien had too many canapes and glasses of wine.

To tell you the truth, he just wanted to avoid talking too much with Chloé. The last time they spent the evening together, she almost discovered his Tumblr. Chloé was pissed because he was smiling while replying a message from Ladybug. When she asked what was he doing, he panicked and hide his phone.

Chloé tried to steal his phone, but failed. Her anger didn’t fade though, and he was sure she would try to steal his phone if she had the chance, so he stopped using his phone around her.

Eventually Chloé had to spend some time with other guests and he used his time alone to reply to some messages Ladybug left during his time in the presence of Chloé. Up until that point of the evening, he had been eating and drinking non-stop, so he just realized how tipsy he was. He drank more that he was allowed to, that was for sure.

  Anonymous said:

Hello, my chaton, what are you doing in this lovely evening? Thinking of me? I came to drink some tea and eat some pastries with my best girl-friend. LB.

Anonymous said:

The truth is: I am guilty. I couldn’t stop thinking about you. They have this beautiful Black Cat themed pastry and I absolutely love it- Would you try it someday? And maybe think about me when you do. LB.

Hello, my lady, I am here missing you because I came to a party and I wish you could be here. And yes, I will try that cake, but I’d prefer something ladybug themed though.

  Anonymous said:

What, are you at a party? Is there any cute girl with a pretty dress I should be jealous of? LB.

No, there is no girl in this planet that would look pretty to me, since the girl I love will always be you, my lady.

    Fuck. Adrien’s face turned red. He typed the answer really fast and without thinking too much he sent it. It was the first time he told Ladybug he loved her. He just fucked up.

He had said several times to her and to the world that he liked Ladybug, but saying you love someone was different, at least to him. He knew he loved her, but he wanted to tell her privately when they met in person and not just randomly in a message when he was tipsy, available for the world to see.

He wanted to die. Ladybug stopped sending messages and he was worried. Maybe she felt offended in a way, since his flirting had never been so direct, and usually were told between jokes.

Later that night, he received a message he wasn’t brave enough to reply. It was his little treasure. It was the first time she said it, and even though they avoided talking about it in the future, he knew she wasn’t joking.

  Anonymous said:

I’m glad to read that, since the boy I love will always be you, my sweet chaton. LB.

    Ladybug always avoided talking about things such as love, and also she did her best to avoid the question “what is your relationship with Chat Noir?” fans loved to ask all the time. He would always answer with a simple “We are partners, we save Paris from evil black butterflies” and when Ladybug dropped an ask she would pretend she didn’t see those questions, even if he asked for her opinion.

Maybe she was the kind of person that overthink situations. Maybe, just maybe, she didn’t want to get hurt. Did someone break her heart? Or maybe this was her first time falling in love and she was hesitant. Or maybe…

He couldn’t know for sure, but it didn’t matter in the end, he would treasure her and protect her for the rest of his life if she allowed him to. It didn’t matter if it was as a lover, or just as friends.

--

Some months ago, Ladybug joked about telling him who she was in exchange of a selfie. He felt cold when he first read it, because revealing himself to the world would not only make his father angry, he would also be on all the newspapers and television news next morning, and most importantly, he would lose his safe space.

He immediately imagined his pictures in all the news the next day, talking about his Tumblr. The only scape he had from his real life, and his problems. In that moment, he understood how Ladybug might be feeling about revealing her identity. Maybe she didn’t want to spoil her scape of reality.

But right in this moment, Adrien wasn’t feeling cold. He was feeling hot. His face must had been completely red, and his heart couldn’t be beating faster. He felt like crying of happiness.

  MiraculousLadybug said:

Hello, my Chaton! Wouldn’t you want to eat ice cream with me? LB.

  It was from Ladybug, he was sure. Her pink beautiful nails, her stylized hand holding her favourite ice cream flavour and the bracelet he suggested her to buy so they could match. It was her, it was her! And finally, the message didn’t show the undesired “Anonymous” before the text. He couldn’t breathe for a moment when he realized the message came from the Fashion Princess. 

Some months before he considered her as a possible candidate to be Ladybug, he was so close at that time, but then he gave up and decided to not message her. What a fool.

He felt complete. In that moment he realized he felt the safest not because of his Tumblr or his anonymous mask on the internet. What made him feel the safest was Ladybug, the girl who after almost two years of knowing each other she finally decided to reveal her true identity.

It was like the time she said she loved him; something special, something he wanted to keep private. He decided to not reply and just send a direct message to her blog.

But yeah, it was easier said than done. He spent hours just staring at the new conversation without a single idea of what to say. He typed a long text expressing his excitement and before deciding to send it, he deleted the whole thing. He typed at least twelve different messages but in the end, he always deleted it before sending it.

He was super nervous, it was his first message to her, to not just Ladybug but to Marinette. Maybe it wasn’t a big deal for her, since her message was quite casual, but to him, oh boy, it meant the world.

He sighed when Natalie knocked his door to tell him it was time for him to practice piano.

He couldn’t contain his happiness. Natalie told him at the end of the session it was one of the most beautiful practices she had heard from him. She asked him if something happened that made him feel happy lately. He blushed and rushed to his room, telling her he was really tired and that it was nothing too special, he just suddenly felt a little happier.

He then remembered his promise about the selfie. For less than a second he felt cold, but then he felt warm again. Marinette, it was for her. And she was worth it.

He took a selfie and posted it on his Tumblr. He wrote a simple “As I promise, my Lady” and added tons of hashtags expressing his excitement and happiness.

  If he was lucky, Ladybug would send him a direct message first, maybe mentioning the selfie. Obviously, he couldn’t ask his luck to give him even more things. He received tons of messages and likes thanks to the selfie he uploaded, but nothing from his Ladybug.

Meanwhile, he spent a couple of hours going through Ladybug’s blog. It was full of her designs and her drawings. She also had a personal blog where she rebbloged things she liked and posted some pictures and texts of her daily life. Adrien knew this blog from a couple of months ago because it reblogged a lot of his posts, but it wasn’t linked to her art blog in any way.

To tell you the truth, Adrien had to really look for it. That blog was linked on an ask Marinette got in her art blog.

Some years ago.

Adrien was surprised to notice how careful she was with her Ladybug identity. Yeah, the name was the same, but she was careful to not post similar things of the ones she sent him. If someone had the theory Marinette and Ladybug were the same person, they wouldn’t be able to find solid proofs.

But there were traces of her Ladybug all over Marinette’s personal blog. Even in her art blog! Little small details he knew had special meaning for both of them. Cats and ladybugs were obviously some of those small details.

Oh, new notification. He almost choked.

  Anonymous said:

My sweet chaton, are you ok? I’ve missed you today. LB.

  It took him a couple of minutes to reply. He was really confused, why would Ladybug keep sending him anonymous messages if she had already revealed her identity as the Fashion Princess? As Marinette… It was easier to just send him a private message…

Unless she actually didn’t reveal herself. Maybe it was a prank message and he fell for it.

No, he was sure Marinette was Ladybug. But, was he really sure about it?

Oh damn, he was now embarrassed.

  Oh, my dear Buginette, I’ve missed you tons too! It makes me happy to know you miss me too, could it mean that you love me as much as I love you? Sometimes I think I can’t love you more… and then you go and do things that make me love you even more, and stronger. I’m starting to think my love for you will never end.

  Adrien was now waiting for her reply. Maybe she would ask about the ice cream submission. If she did, it meant it was really her. He hoped to get a new ask from her asking about the ice cream. Please, oh dear God, let him read the word ‘ice cream’ again.

  Anonymous said:

Did you get my submission earlier? I was eating ice cream and I thought of you… but you never answered. I was worried something happened to you, because you didn’t post anything either. LB.

  It only took seconds to write a reply to her this time.

  I received it Buginette. I promise to keep your secret, and I will do everything I said I’d do after knowing. You have no idea what it means to me.

  Adrien took some time to breath and digest what happened. Marinette, the Fashion Princess AND Ladybug were the same person. He opened her chat and sent a simple “Buginette, is that you?”.

He then closed everything and threw himself to bed.

  Every second that passed from that moment until she replied felt like eternity.

[thegeekycolombo]

Twenty Years Later

“Do you remember that girl we used to hang out with in high school?” Ashley asks as she shuffles the cards to deal.

“Sorta. The depressed one, right? God, what was her name…” Sara trails off, sifting casually through the latest issue of People.

“Kristy…no, that’s not it…um, oh! Samantha, right?”

“Oh yes! Samantha. Wow, I haven’t thought about her in years. What made you think of her?”

“I saw her on that alumni site and Melissa told me she was coming to our reunion. She’s been on my mind ever since. The barista here looks so much like her it’s eerie. That made me think of her.” Sara peers nonchalantly toward the counter as Ashley deals the cards. “What do you think happened to her?”

“Didn’t she have a baby or something when we were in high school, like senior year?”

“No, that was just a rumour. She had a tumor or something. Didn’t we visit her in the hospital and bring her homework and stuff to her? I know my mom went a few times.”

“Ohhhh yeah. That’s right. That was crazy. She seemed so unphased by that, too. I would have been terrified. I can’t even imagine dealing with something like that in high school. She was such a strange person. Do you remember that time we went over to her house on a Friday night to drag her out with us and she was just laying in her bedroom, lights off, reading by flashlight?”

“That was so odd! I so weirded out by that. I just wanted to shake her and say, “Girl! We are sixteen years old, it’s Friday night, and we have cars. Let’s go!”

Sara lays down her meld and then plays her last card. She grabs the cards to straighten the deck while Ashley tallies up her points. “Yeah she was so weird sometimes. Do you remember the stories she would tell us about her mom? Do you think she was really that horrible? She seemed nice to me.”

“Who knows. I thought her mom was nice, too, but remember that time Samantha got in trouble for making us sandwiches at her house? That was insane. She was grounded for two full weeks for that.”

“That’s right! I’d forgotten all about that. What is so bananas about that is that she was always at our houses and our parents never hesitated to have her over for dinner or whatever. Do you remember how we could never have sleepovers at her house either? Not that I would have wanted to if her mom really was crazy.”

“Totally. It’s your deal by the way.” Ashley gets up to refill their coffee cups at the counter. As she sits down she says, “Didn’t she move out of her parent’s house after our sophomore year? And then went to live with that guy she knew from Rocky? Do you remember that?”

“Oh wow, I forgot about that, too. How did that all happen? Wasn’t it over something stupid that her parent’s freaked out over? I remember feeling so bad for her. Like she’s a straight A student, almost top of our class, tutoring other kids all the time, and working seven days a week, I know Samantha wasn’t perfect, but damn. She had her act together more than most of us.”

“True. She was just so depressed, though. It was embarrassing sometimes. I would go look for her when we had off hours together and find her sitting in a corner of the hallway or the library by herself, listening to music and writing or drawing, hoodie pulled up over her head. She lived in her own world a lot, it was so weird. One time I sat next to her for a good fifteen minutes before she even realized I was there.”

“And do you remember trying to hug her? She’d have none of it. She hated to be touched.”

Ashley draws a card and discards mindlessly, “I wonder why we stopped being friends with her. I mean you and I are still friends but it’s like Samantha just disappeared. One day we were driving around, the three of us listening to music and laughing about silly stuff, and the next day she was just gone.”

“I feel like we never really knew her. You know, as a person. She never told us anything about anything. But she knew everything about us.”

“Right? What kind of girl doesn’t like to sit around and talk about boys, gossip, and talk about their feelings? I can’t even remember her having a crush on anyone.”

“Well, there was that guy from Rocky. Do you think they were a thing? Did we ever even meet him?”

“Hmm, I don’t think they were a thing. I think they were just friends. I never met him but saw them once. I was driving my brother somewhere and saw them laying in the grass at City Park one night. Oh! I do remember this, though. She was laughing. She looked like she was laughing so hard she was crying. I had never seen her like that before.”

Sara lays down her second meld, discards her last card, and chuckles. “Why are you so bad at this game?”

“I don’t know, but you are killing me. I have three Aces in my hand. I’m going to have to win the next three just to stand a chance.” Ashley jots down her score and shuffles the cards. “It was weird seeing her…happy. She looked free and comfortable. I wish we got to see that side of her.”

“She was weird and she was definitely depressed, but she was so cool and such a good friend. She used to leave us the neatest little paintings in our lockers with poems or song lyrics written on the back. I wonder if I still have any of those…” Sara wonders aloud. “Hey, do you remember when Jack dumped you and what she did when she found out?”

“I try not to think about that guy, okay? He shattered my lil teenage heart that day.” Ashley explains, dramatically falling back in her chair.

“Yeah, yeah, but forget about him. Samantha called me the minute she found out. She went and bought all our favorite junk food items, rented some movies, picked me up, and we showed up at your house, sleeping bags and all.”

“That’s right, wow. She was always there when I needed her. It’s like she just knew what to say and what to do in any given moment. She was always there to support us no matter what. Heck, she’s the only reason I survived Dill’s AP lit class!”

Sara giggles and rolls her eyes. “Well, it wouldn’t have been that hard had you actually read the books.”

“Fine.” Ashley, sits back thoughtfully, placing her cards face down on the table and cupping her coffee with both hands. “I wish she had opened up to us more, though. I really cared for her and I worried about her. It’s like every time we tried to reach out to her, she shut down even more.”

The two friends sit in silence for a few moments, allowing their minds to get lost in their own memories. “Did you ever see her cry? I don’t think I ever saw her cry. Or get angry. Or even be happy. It’s like she didn’t feel anything ever.”

“I just remember Samantha being so calm and collected all the time. Weird, right? You’d think someone who was that depressed would have been more emotional. Not her. It’s like it just made her seem…subdued.”

“Yeah…” Sara trails off, sitting back in her chair as well, staring off past Ashley’s head at nothing specific. “What do you think happened to her anyway?”

“No idea. It’s like she ghosted our entire class. I talked to a few others from school last week to see if they were in touch with her and no one has heard from her. Makes you wonder. So many people liked her and wanted to be her friend, but she kept everyone at a distance. Well, except that guy from Rocky. What was his name…”

Sara pulls out her phone and clicks on an app, smirking.

“What are you doing? Going to look her up?”

“Of course. Isn’t that what Facebook is for? Stalking people who used to be in your life to see?” Sara states as she quickly types at her phone.

Ashley laughs and shakes her head. “Okay great, let’s do it, I’m too curious not to.”

Sara scrunches her face at the screen as she scrolls slowly. “Found it!” Her eyes dart across the phone screen for a few moments, “Well, there’s not much public info on her profile. She has a boring quote from some boring fantasy novel, zero public information otherwise, oh but look at this adorable photo of her and her grandma!”

“Oh, that’s so great, she looks so different!” Ashley says grabbing the phone and zooming in on the picture. “Do you think she’s married? Does she have kids?”

Sara takes the phone and scrolls further. “It doesn’t look like it. No pictures of anyone accept her and her dog mostly. Some with her sister and another woman. A few of her posts are public, but mostly memes and political stuff.”

“I’m glad she’s alive and I hope she’s doing well. She looks like she’s doing well anyway. She almost looks happy in some of these pictures. I always thought she might kill herself or something.”

“Really? Why did you think that?”

“Samantha just seemed so lonely. Obviously, she was depressed, but it was more than that. Like she didn’t fit into this world or something. She seemed to be in a lot of pain because of it.”

“Should I send her a friend request?” Sara asks hesitantly.

“No way. Don’t you think she might be mad at us for not reaching out to her sooner? I mean twenty years have passed. Kind of shitty of us, don’t you think? Then be like oh were just talking about you.”

“Good point. It would be weird. She’s probably fine anyway. I mean she looks fine in those pictures. And besides, it’s not like she has reached out to us.” Sara looks at her phone once more, her finger hovering for a moment over the ‘Add Friend’ link. She exits the app and then puts it away in purse. The two resume their card game and move on to talking about their own lives and gossip about celebrities.  

[bevioletskies]

20 questions [8/20]

characters: peter/gamora, guardians-centric

fandom: avengers academy/marvel cinematic universe

summary: wasp has a new competition in store for the students of avengers academy, and there’s money involved. so obviously, peter and gamora have to pretend to be a couple in order to win. wait, what?

chapter preview: peter and gamora argue and make up (aka the usual), gamora has a bit of an epiphany, and someone goes missing.

word count: 4804 | total word count: 118k

a/n: the ending of this one makes me happysad every time i read it over, tbh

ao3 | previously | next | masterpost

Janet van Dyne, as the hundreds of students, SHIELD agents, and faculty had learned (sometimes the hard way), was not a girl to be messed with. She wasn’t the strongest, the fastest, or the most skilled of students on campus, but God help you should you get in her way, or even worse, mess with any of her friends.

It had started off as a perfectly normal Sunday morning, of course. She woke up feeling peppy as always, and made her way into the dorm cafeteria/lounge, where Clint and Kate were hovering over the coffee machine, looking desperate, but otherwise dead to the world. She pulled out her green juice from the communal fridge, cracked open the lid with a satisfying pop, and then took a swig, right as she opened Twitter. She then promptly spat it out at the first trending topic she saw, nearly spraying Cosmo and Lucky in the process, who were just innocently sitting on the floor at the Hawkeyes’ feet.

“KAMALA!” she hollered, causing the Hawkeyes to jump. “WE HAVE A SOCIAL MEDIA EMERGENCY!”

Ms. Marvel came dashing in, sliding across the linoleum on her socks, precariously tipping over in the process and nearly braining herself on the doorframe. “What is it, Jan?”

“Why am I seeing this weird, tell-all Twitlonger from some SHIELD agent being DMed to me by hundreds of people?” She stuck her phone in Kamala’s face. “Who is this guy, and why is he saying mean things about Peter?”

“Let me see, girls,” Peggy Carter said, strolling briskly into the kitchen with the no-nonsense attitude that every girl in the Academy revered. She took the phone from Janet and scrolled through the article, frowning. “I can’t say he stands out to me, I wouldn’t remember his face even if I’d met him. He’s rather generically good-looking, wouldn’t you say?”

“He said something about Peter punching him in the face for looking at Gamora,” Janet said. “That doesn’t sound like something he’d do.”

“What’s this about Quill and Gamora?” Natasha sauntered over from the fruit salad station, her eyes narrowed in suspicion. After Peggy showed her the post, her mouth twisted unpleasantly, considering. She wouldn’t put it past Quill and the other Guardians to attempt a long-con to make money, even if it meant a little bad publicity to get into the news. She reasoned that Gamora was the one with a strong moral compass, someone who understood the need to save lives the most after taking so many, and she wouldn’t have taken Natasha’s money regardless. Still, it didn’t clear the suspicions she’d had from the beginning. Maybe this wasn’t the most important secret she had to sniff out on the entirety of the Academy campus (the timefog was definitely a more pressing matter), but it was something Natasha knew she had to look into further.

______

Waking up next to Gamora a second time was decidedly less pleasant than the first, as Peter had been unceremoniously kicked in the gut. With a rather comical shout, he went tumbling out the bed and landed elbow-first on the floor.

Her head popped up over the side of the bed a moment later. “You okay, Quill?” she said, concerned.

“Never better,” Peter groaned, stumbling to his feet. “What happened?”

Her eyes flickered away from him a moment, guilty. “Nightmare,” she murmured. “It won’t happen again.”

He decided not to push it - it was definitely not a topic to be discussed in their game or any context, really, unless she was ready - instead electing to mumble about needing to pee and walking to the bathroom to give her space. When he got back, she was already dressed, her hair braided, face composed once again. She was on her phone, presumably checking her messages and making sure the Guardians hadn’t killed anyone - or each other - in their absence.

“Mantis says there are lots of photos and videos of us online,” Gamora said, turning to face the wall as Peter began stripping down. “They’re referring to us as the ‘hottest new superhero couple’.”

“Alright, I like it,” Peter said as he buttoned up his shirt. “We could definitely be the most attractive superhero couple ever.”

“Always so modest,” she commented dryly, turning back around as he finished adjusting his belt buckle. As she moved to get up, her phone went off with a text notification. “Wait, Janet says there’s a weird Twitter post about us.”

He sat down to do up his shoelaces, distracted by the need to finish dressing. “Yeah, yeah, read it.”

“It says, ‘Star-Lord is a possessive psychopath. He and his girlfriend came to my workplace for some Guardians business, and when I checked them in, I apparently took too long looking over her ID and he lost it. He grabbed me, pulled me out from behind my desk, and punched me in the face repeatedly. It took two security guards to pull him off me, and he kept yelling at me about trying to steal his girlfriend.’” Gamora blinked. “What the hell,” she said flatly.

“It’s that damn Number Five,” Peter said, fists clenched. “My nickname for him,” he added at Gamora’s confused expression. “He’s probably mad he got called out for being a creep, even though I was super non-confrontational about it.”

“And now he’s making people think you’re an over-possessive, violent boyfriend, how is that okay?” she exclaimed. “An untrue slight against you, you’re just going to let that go?”

“If it becomes a problem, we’ll deal with it,” he shrugged, and there was that nonchalant quality of Peter’s that frustrated Gamora so often. It wasn’t just in situations like this, it was on missions, on jobs, where he told everyone he would “figure it out when we get there”, or “wait until we know more”.

“Your talent for improvisation will only take you so far,” she informed him, getting to her feet. “We might need to make a counter statement when we get back. I’ll text Pepper.”

“You do that,” Peter sighed, frustrated. This day was already starting out on a sour note compared to the near-perfect time they had yesterday. He hoped it could only go up from here.

______

Breakfast downstairs was an...interesting affair. The elderly couple from yesterday was there once again, having a petty argument about using the wrong kind of knife for jam, when they spotted Gamora and gestured for her and Peter to join them. They shared stories of their favourite dates and anniversaries, which made the two smile, until they asked how long Peter and Gamora had been together.

“We’ve known each other for a couple years, but we’ve only been dating about four months, almost five,” Peter said, glancing over at a slightly defensive-looking Gamora. The couple motioned for him to elaborate. “I don’t know if civilians heard about the fight us Guardians had back at that time, but my father turned out to be pretty evil and we had to take him out. It was in that moment that I realized I had a giant crush on Gamora, and I didn’t want to lose out on telling her before some other crazy bad guy took us down.”

It still made her uneasy to hear or tell this story, no matter how many times it was spoken aloud. A lie rooted a little too deeply into truth, and Gamora could almost forget that it didn’t actually happen.

After Peter continued to make up stories during the duration of breakfast, the pair headed out to the Metropolitan Museum of Art, a place that Mantis had listed and Pepper had recommended. “There’s lots of amazing stuff in there, but I think Gamora would especially love the Arms and Armor section,” she had said, handing them a stack of brochures.

The car ride was uneasy, to say the least. Gamora wasn’t sure why she was so annoyed this time, in all honesty. It wasn’t like this was the most stubborn either of them had been, nor the most dire issue they’d ever gotten into an argument over. And yet, it bothered her that Peter wasn’t planning on doing anything about this. For a guy who cares so much about being called Star-Lord, he doesn’t seem worried about being seen as a violent boyfriend, she thought, glancing over at him. He was humming mindlessly along with the radio, some pop song that played on rotation every two hours. She was uncertain about why he hadn’t switched to an oldies station, but the atmosphere felt too tense for her to ask.

The moment they got out of the car, it was like a switch had flipped. Peter took her hand and guided them to the museum entrance, where they were taken to the front of the queue and let in almost immediately the moment they showed their Academy passes. “Perks of being a hero,” Peter said to her in a sotto voice, slightly concerned that the civilians would overhear and complain. “Where should we start?”

Once they got going, it seemed as if things were back to normal. Gamora found that she was enjoying herself, not just in the Arms and Armor exhibit (though it was definitely her favourite), but in observing the art and furniture of the other exhibits that taught her a great deal of Terran history that she’d been unaware of until now. Peter also seemed to have relaxed a little bit, offering colourful commentary, joking around with her, his hand warm in hers. They seemed so used to it now that she felt as if they would continue to accidentally hold hands after the ruse was up. Or maybe it was just her, unused to the sort of intimacy Peter probably received in spades.

Brave individuals approached them and asked for a photo or for a moment to simply thank them, while the shyer members of the public stared at them from afar, attempting to be discreet in taking videos or photos, only to quickly turn away when eye contact was made. Even one woman blurted out that she thought they looked good together, before turning red in the face and dashing away, clutching at her companion and muttering about how embarrassing she was.

They took a break for lunch when both Peter and his stomach began to complain, tucking themselves away into the American Wing Café for a quick bite. “You alright?” Peter said cautiously, moments after they’d settled in.

“Are you asking after something specific?” Gamora said, tilting her head as she observed Peter practically inhaling his sandwich. “Because if you think I’m still irritated, you’d be correct.”

“I’m just surprised it bothers you so much,” Peter said, frowning. The effect was ruined by bits of lettuce falling out of his mouth. “I get you being worried about Thanos coming to kill me, like, me specifically, but this is just one post making up stories that barely anyone’s listening to. What’s the big deal?”

“You put stock into your reputation but this doesn’t worry you at all. Why?” she countered, leaning back and crossing one leg over the other. “I understand fighting for people to call you Star-Lord, since it holds both notoriety and sentiment, but what about fighting against being seen as a possessive, unreasonable lover?”

“The public have already gotten over it five minutes after it was posted, and I’m pretty sure any girls I’d be interested in from this point on would be smart enough to know it isn’t true,” Peter shrugged, licking his fingers. “Like, you know I’m not that guy. And hell, you were more physically threatening to him than me, we both know it, so who cares?”

Gamora exhaled slowly. “I guess it bothers me,” she admitted. “Not because you aren’t doing anything about it - I’ve come to expect little effort from you on things like this - but because...I don’t like the idea of people seeing you in a negative light.”

Peter smiled softly, reaching across the table to put his hand over hers. She saw a camera phone flash out of the corner of her eye, but instead of turning towards the culprit, her eyes fixated on Peter’s face instead, the signature warmth in his eyes a comforting sight. “That’s awesome of you - no, really - but that kind of stuff doesn’t really get to me. I care more about what you guys think of me than some random people from the public. And I know what kind of guy I am. So that���s all that matters.”

Smiling back, she felt the tension in her muscles dissipate. Contrary to popular belief, she did not enjoy fighting with Peter. “We should get going,” she said. “I want to look at the swords again.”

______

“I am Groot.”

“I know you’re bored, hold on a second - ”

“I AM GROOT!”

“Hey, now, don’t talk to me like that, watch your d’ast language, kid.” Rocket climbed out from underneath the table, where he had accidentally dropped his wrench. He was working on some weaponry that wasn’t all too critical, but since Peter and Gamora were taking their sweet time bringing supplies back in favour of a “romantic” weekend trip, he didn’t have what he needed to continue doing repairs on the Milano. It also meant he was looking after Groot even more than usual, as the other two would usually take him while Rocket was working. “Now, whaddaya want?”

“I am Groot.” His little wooden fingers pointed in the direction of the sleeping quarters.

“I don’t think she’s even on the ship, Groot. Haven’t seen her since dinner last night.” Rocket rummaged through the mess of wires he’d uncovered from one of the cooling units. It was a miracle the thing hadn’t blown to bits with the way they were tangled up.

“I am Groot.”

“Why would I be worried? Nebula’s probably just skulking in a corner somewhere and hissing at anyone who gets too close.”

“I am Groot!”

“What? How did you even get into my communicator, it’s password-protected.” Rocket leapt over to the coffee table, where his holo-tab was sitting, unlocked. He scrolled through his messages for a moment before looking back over at Groot. “Shit, you’re right. We gotta tell the others.”

“Wha’s going on, rat?” Yondu emerged from his room, looking around blearily. He got a suspiciously high amount of naps in for a guy who was supposedly failing a decent amount of his classes and needed to catch up. Then again, the naps were probably what kept him away from homework in the first place.

“Nebula’s somehow off-planet, she’s been spotted on some cluster near the Kyln,” Rocket said, shoving all of his work onto the floor in favour of his tablet, now projecting a map of Nebula’s rumoured location onto its surface. “We should tell Gamora, we aren’t equipped to handle this without her.”

“Shit,” Yondu yawned, scratching himself. “We really gonna interrupt her and Quill’s date night? They should be on their way to that light thing that bug-girl picked for ‘em.”

“There’s more pressing matters than Quill and Gamora getting all kissy-faced, alright? D’you have any idea how much trouble we’re gonna be in if Patch Man finds out we somehow lost Nebula? How did she even find a spaceship - Milano’s busted, quinjets ain’t built for space travel - ” Rocket started mumbling absent-mindedly to himself as his claws flew over the keyboard, attempting to plot a course for Nebula’s location.

Groot went running down the hall of the Milano, extending his arms to knock on Drax’s and Mantis’s doors. “I am Groot, I am Groot!”

Drax came out first, daggers in hand, ready for a fight. “What is it, small Groot?”

Mantis poked her head out from behind her door. She had earbuds in, listening to a playlist Peter had made for her, and spoke even louder than usual. “What has happened?!”

“We gotta cut in on Quill and Gamora’s love trip - Nebula’s missing,” Rocket called from the kitchen, where he was inexplicably rummaging for cutlery. “Can someone contact them already? Don’t have all day, it’s already getting dark out!”

“Rocket, while I understand the need to recover Nebula, what are we supposed to do about it? There are no functioning spaceships on this base,” Drax said patiently, lowering his daggers slowly in mild disappointment.

“We’ll figure it out,” Rocket snarled. “Now get to it!”

______

“Is it bad I kinda just want to spend the rest of the day in here?” Peter asked, flopping down on the bed. He rolled around to cocoon himself in the thick duvet. “I don’t know what it is, but I’ve been kinda tired this whole trip. Not in a bad way, just like a ‘I’m-letting-myself-get-tired’ kinda way.”

“We don’t get much rest at the Academy, so being off-campus probably helps your body relax,” Gamora suggested. “We don’t have to go, then. We can just...stay in. Order more pizza, watch the lights from here.”

“You secretly like pizza, don’t you,” he teased, turning over to look at her.

“Didn’t think it was much of a secret,” she replied, smiling as she set down her bag and her phone. “I adhere to a strict diet to maintain my physicality, but I enjoy indulging every once in awhile.”

“Pizza it is,” he cheered, reaching for his phone. To his surprise, less than a minute later, Gamora crawled in next to him, having apparently already changed into her pajamas in record time. She’d taken out her braids, leaving her hair slightly crinkled and messy, looking more unkempt than he’d ever seen her, but just as pretty as ever. It was good to see her so at ease.

“And maybe a movie?” she suggested, almost shyly.

He nodded more vigorously than he meant to. Gamora’s large chocolate brown eyes were kind of mesmerizing up close. “Yeah, yeah, of course.”

______

Despite still being grounded, the Milano had delved into chaos, what with Rocket leaping about as quickly as he could to gather parts, Mantis and Drax attempting to flesh out Rocket’s flight path plan, Groot bouncing up and down on the kitchen counter in anticipation, and...well, Yondu was sitting on the couch, observing.

He was in charge of contacting Peter, though he wasn’t sure if he wanted to do it just yet. Not because of him being away with Gamora, though that did play a minor role, but because...was it really so crucial to get Nebula back? She left for a reason, a reason that everyone suspected but couldn’t confirm - Thanos. Going after Nebula likely meant confronting Thanos, and Yondu wasn’t in the mood for dying, not today.

Watching the others scramble around like their feet were on fire, you could never tell that Nebula constantly antagonized all of them, only being marginally nice to Gamora when it suited her. Gamora had insisted her sister wasn’t a lost cause, not yet, but it was telling when Nebula bolted the moment Gamora was gone as well. And they weren’t saying it out loud, but the way they were eyeing him? Yondu could tell the others were surprised he was still here when Peter wasn’t, either.

“We really that scared of Fury findin’ out?” Yondu called, tucking the holo-tab away, as if he’d done what he’d been instructed to do. “Maybe he’ll like it better now that she’s gone.”

“It’s not just Fury I’m worried about, you idiot. You wanna face Gamora when she gets back and finds out we didn’t tell her that her sister somehow disappeared off-planet to fight their evil daddy?!” A clang. “Ow.”

“I am Groot?”

“Yeah, I’m okay, thanks. So are you helpin’ or are you hinderin’? ‘Cause if you’re not helping, we could use some extra space.” Rocket’s arms were folded, his chin tipped upwards. Yondu supposed it would be more intimidating if Rocket wasn’t a mere 3 feet tall.

“Pretty sure Quill put Drax in charge, not you,” Yondu drawled, moving closer to stare him down.

“It would be wise of you to assist us, Yondu, unless you would like to have your toes removed.” Drax’s voice, usually jovial at best and monotonous at worst, was dangerously low, his blue eyes like ice.

“Yessir,” Yondu said sarcastically, though he moved over to the table to help. He wasn’t that much of an idiot.

______

“Just once, I’d like to watch a movie with no singing or dancing in it whatsoever,” Gamora sighed as the movie ended, her head moving to rest next to Peter’s shoulder. “I think you’re skewing my perception of Terran culture.”

“Twist and Shout is so good,” Peter said enthusiastically, turning to look at her. They were nearly nose-to-nose (well, Peter’s-nose-to-Gamora’s-forehead. She was uncharacteristically slouched over, her entire upper body pressed up against his). “I could totally be Ferris Bueller, right?”

“As long as you’re not expecting me to be Sloane,” Gamora said, patting his leg.

“I think you’re more like Jeanie,” he countered, leaning closer. “Did you see the way she took out the principal?”

She laughed softly, her hand coming to a stop on his knee. “Alright then, that helped me think of my next question. The Guardians, we think of each other like family. We fight, we argue, but we do it for each other. Do you see Nebula and I as your sisters?”

“No offense to Nebula, but she’s not exactly on the ‘ride-or-die’ level for me yet,” Peter chuckled, wrapping his arm around her shoulders. They were nearly cuddling at this point, body heat radiating off both of them at every spot they were touching. It made him vaguely wonder if there had been something in the pizza that had made Gamora unusually pliant, but even stranger, it wasn’t as odd to him as he thought. She was so comfortable around him now that it made him secretly feel pleased. He couldn’t imagine Gamora being able to snuggle up to anyone since she was a young, innocent girl, and now her arm was slung across his lap like it was nothing, his breath rustling her hair.

“And me?” There was a half-smile on her face, almost flirtatious. It reminded him of when they had stopped over on Knowhere, where Rocket, Drax, and Groot had gotten drunk, and he and Gamora had a moment that he held on to with a surprising fierceness.

“I, uh...I don’t think, that, uh, I think of you as my sister. First of all, it would make this whole fake relationship situation really weird,” he elaborated at her slightly baffled expression. “And you have some...qualities, that I like in girls.” He cursed inwardly at himself the moment the words left his mouth. What was he, some inexperienced ten-year old trying to flirt with his schoolyard crush? This was Gamora, someone that he’d been opening up to in the past few weeks in ways he’d never anticipated.

Thankfully, she didn’t prod further. “But I don’t dance, or quote movies you like, or find you funny,” Gamora said, teasing.

“Oh, you definitely dance.” Peter got to his feet, weaving their fingers together and pulling her up as well. “I think you’ve danced with me enough times to establish that you’re totally a dancer.”

He moved to press play on his Walkman, smiling as the gentle sounds of a chorus and strings flooded the room. Despite having the latest technology available to him soon after they’d landed on Terra, Peter had asked for songs he had discovered later on and truly loved to be put on tape. He liked the idea of continuing his mother’s Awesome Mixes, as if it was his way of responding to hers.

They slowly moved around the room, Gamora sighing as she always did but following his lead. She was slightly on her toes, as her feet were bare, taking away the height advantage her thick-heeled combat boots usually afforded her. Her face was closer than it usually was, and despite the fact they’d kissed just yesterday (was it really yesterday? It felt like decades ago), there was an intimacy present that she was unused to, the feeling of Peter’s breath against her nose that wasn’t too unpleasant.

He then ducked his head slightly, his mouth now practically in her hair, nestled comfortably against her ear. “You give your hand to me, and then you say hello,” he sang, his voice so soft that she nearly missed it. As they turned slowly around the generously-sized living room, she could see the lights from the show flickering in and out of view, bathing them in a warm glow. “And I can hardly speak, my heart is beating so…”

Peter opted to hum for the next few lines, but Gamora felt her face begin to warm. Their perceptions of music were so different. Gamora enjoyed her punk-rock, with lyrics about fighting against the establishment and navigating the hardships of life and death, but there was something so endearing and innocent about Peter’s connection to older songs. He was a modern man in many ways - his somewhat arrogant personality in contrast to his gentle, all-loving nature - but his heart beat in time to older music and movies that celebrated love and life.

She dared herself to look up at him, and there was that softness that she liked so much, a stark contrast from the steely-eyed confrontation they had earlier today and many times before. Their eyes locked as Peter picked up again. “...and longs to kiss your lips, and longs to hold you tight...to you, I’m just a friend...that’s all I’ve ever been…” He broke off to chuckle. “It’s weird, ‘cause this song is pretty slow, but they dance so quickly in the movie. I always thought it was perfect for just kind of...two-stepping...like this.”

Gamora let out a soft breath, unsure of what to say. A breeze whistled by from the open balcony door, disturbing her hair, but all she could see was how it made one of Peter’s curls flop over his forehead. She reached up to push it out of the way. “Do you have a question for me?” She wasn’t sure why she was whispering, or why her thumb lingered on his cheek longer than she’d meant to.

“Sure,” Peter smiled. “You know what I look for in a significant other. What do you look for in a guy?”

“Physically fit,” she said immediately. That was an easy one, she needed someone to keep up with her in training, combat, and...other things. “Disciplined, intelligent, level-headed.”

He chuckled softly. “You describing a life partner or a business partner?” His large hand pressed slightly closer on the small of her back, though the pads of his fingers were still gentle. “Afraid and shy, I let my chance go by, a chance that you might love me too…”

“Then I guess you could say I look for a person who could be by my side in all aspects of my life,” Gamora countered, though her voice remained quiet and even. “Someone to be on equal footing with.”

“Like someone who leads a team with you?” Peter asked, and her eyes widened in realization. Maybe…

“Maybe, exactly, like that,” Gamora breathed, her chin tipping upwards.

It was an unconscious choice by them both, an instinct, really, as they moved together. Gamora’s hands were now cupped in Peter’s, held delicately between their chests. Their bare feet, taking tiny, careful steps, now coming to a stop. Peter’s nose met the side of hers first, and it was so slow compared to the rushed kiss of yesterday, like they had all the time in the world…

“GAMORA! Gamora, are you there?!”

She jumped backwards, nearly stumbling over her own feet. Peter watched her, astonished. He’d never seen Gamora trip before, not without some sort of catalyst. Without giving him a second glance, she turned and walked into the bedroom, snatching up her tablet. “I’m here, Rocket, what’s wrong?” she said, her voice hoarse.

“Yondu was s’pposed to contact Quill but he decided to be a big blue idiot and do nothin’ - your sister, she’s gone! Off-planet, gone to hang out near the Kyln!”

“What?” Peter exclaimed, hurrying over immediately to stand near Gamora. “How’d she get off Earth? Does SHIELD - or Stark - have some space travel technology we don’t know about?”

“Can’t be too naive, Quill, their secrets got secrets. You guys gotta get back here immediately, ‘cause Fury doesn’t know yet and this ain’t something I wanna tell him!”

“We’ll leave right now,” Gamora promised, her voice level, though her mind was racing. “Don’t do anything rash until we’re back.”

She disappeared into the bathroom to start packing and get changed into her combat gear, leaving Peter to stand there, dumbly staring after her, the spell broken.

Oh, you’ll never know the one who loved you so.

a/n: i know i know, i did the cliché thing, though this whole fic is an excuse for me to deconstruct tropes and clichés so shh

the song they’re slow-dancing to can be found here, in reference to this scene from groundhog day.

[worldcakecakecake]

Throwing Cellphones

                            Feliciano gets himself a sugar daddy

                                  Next update for Friday!

                           Warning: This chapter has nsfw

                                                     Chapter 9

“Mmm, you should move in with me,” Feliciano chuckled against his chest.

Ludwig laughed along with it, wrapping his arms strongly around him, pulling him much closer, trying to cover any little space between them that could betray. He laid a kiss on the top of his nose, settling him more between his legs, strong to not let a single movement escape.

“I wish… I wish every morning could be like this.” Ludwig raised Feliciano slightly so he could take his turn cradling his neck and chest. “It disappoints that it’s only a couple of days once a month.”

“Which is why you decided to stay for three weeks this time?”

“Partially, but…” that’s when he remembered, reaching to pick up his phone that he dropped on the bedside table sometime along the night. He scrolled until he found it, handing the device for Feliciano to see.

It was map of Italy, well detailed with a red marked route, spreading well across its west coast. Specific points were located in: Livorno, Monte Argentario, Lake Bracciano, Rome, Sorrento, the Amalfi coast, and finally, Capri. With each place there were already numbers, estimations of time, scheduling and prices, orderly as Ludwig liked to keep his things.

“Are these…the places we mentioned in our last call?” If so, what was the meaning of it?

“You wanted to run away didn’t you? Figured I could give us that giveaway. Settled some things at work and managed us three weeks, what do you think?” Ludwig cradled once again into his neck, arms still as tightly around him, letting Feliciano explore the app, checking well any valuable information, turning this serious, exciting.

“It’s wonderful! But when did you make all of this?”

“My honeymoon. Yekaterina and I rarely spent time together. She went out into the city and I would stay in the hotel only thinking about our last call. I checked and planned as a way to past my time, imagining… trying my best to make it perfect for you.” He really did hope so, looking for more reactions in Feliciano’s already widened and wondered eyes.

“It is perfect…the kind of honeymoon I myself would have wanted,” Feliciano admitted, which instead of alighting, only brought frowns, for it couldn’t be, it was missed and neither could think that the chance to celebrate their union could be available once again. But there was this, and both smiled as they come into a sort of agreement.

“We could make it our own honeymoon,” Ludwig suggested aloud.

How beautiful, how wonderful, Feliciano turned to meet with Ludwig’s expression in a smile, leaning the closer.

“Mmm, and what made you think I will so easily accept? Didn’t we decide to end this?” It was disappointing to remind, but Feliciano wanted to be sure, he really needed Ludwig thinking about this, hoping that guilt would settle enough. He needed him to think about his job, to think about his wife, which held new prospect of family. As he continued to gaze into the sea of his blue eyes, Germany and Yekaterina were far off in some distant part of his being that didn’t shine with enough importance. Ludwig leaned close to place a kiss on his forehead, one of meaning, reminding that it was only him that mattered the most at the moment.

“I still…wanted to try,” he shrugged, a shy grin that actually made Feliciano laugh. It was for those kinds of outbursts that Ludwig still kept on coming, why he fought on and why he was willing to leave so many things at risk. “But it was mostly hopes, prayers, and being mad for you,”

“I thought you were an atheist.”

“You make me believe in angels.”

A bigger grin of sun, chuckles, joyful laughter that shined the whole room. “You have some big nerve, Mr. Beilschmidt! We decide to stop this and yet you come here galloping with not a shield, uncaring to your own queen at home, expecting me to forget, forgive. What kind of knight are you?” He still laughed, he still held that brightening shine in his eyes.

“The kind that continues to find and save his prince no matter the evil sorcerers that try to stop him.”

Feliciano was kicking, moving, giggling the more into his hold, Ludwig feeling like he had a shining star in his arms.

“You can’t resist me.” Ludwig began to laugh along, leaning close to the way his eyes shone, how their forehead touch was as warm as the feelings that arose from them and brought them comfort like the pillows and blankets they lay on.

Feliciano wanted to try and prove him wrong by landing harmless little slaps on his body and arms, along with cute little kicks, still laughing, only adorable tickles to Ludwig, joining in the growing laughter in the room.

“Admit it! You can’t resist me!” Ludwig shouted, trying to speak between Feliciano’s onslaught.

“And you can’t live without me! You can’t resist me either and you would fight against the scariest kings for my own hand in marriage.”

“At least I can admit that’s true!”

Feliciano gave the strongest chortle unto his chest.

  The rest of that day was used to pack and prepare, Ludwig explaining finer details to Feliciano so he could better know what clothes and items to bring. By the next morning, Feliciano had his own luggage prepared, all on the trunk of the rental car Ludwig had gotten. It was slammed as an official start to their journey, Feliciano taking his bouncing seat on the passenger side, Ludwig already lightening the engine.

Feliciano took out his phone, a selfie with his long sleeved white shirt with a single black star in its center, tight black jeans, nice shoes, expensive sunglasses resting on the mess of his curled hair. A hand lay on them, ready to wear them, shinning eyes, a grand smile to his public. Ludwig stared, impressed at the beauty he had in his hold and was ready to take on this amazing journey through his own country.

After that one was shot, he leaned towards Ludwig, so the camera could take the both of them.

“Um…” Ludwig was about to deny.

“You have to take pictures with me! Don’t worry, I won’t post them anywhere, it’s just for us.” He begged with such a cute pout that Ludwig couldn’t disobey, falling easily into his side, trying out the best smile he could with the heavy gaze of those lenses.

Feliciano captured and showed it, earning a frown from the blond. Ludwig’s smile came out crooked, making the rest of him look old and distasteful, a shadow in comparison to how the sun seemed to shine like it was meant only for Feliciano, beautifully, smiling perfectly. He was just made for this.

Feliciano looked on proudly to the picture, loving the shine of Ludwig’s hair, the intensity and brightness of his eyes, his cute and gentile nature despite the force in his outlooks. He cropped and settled it as his phone background. He showed it to Ludwig proudly, but the blond still blushed embarrassingly, beginning to turn the car to get it out of the driveway.

They had an hour drive to Livorno, with a lunch stop in Pisa, and Feliciano thought he could keep the trip alive with some music. He picked up the Aux cord, put it to his own phone, shuffle, and the screen read ‘Uno di questi giorni – Nek’.

“Amo questa canzone! Luddy, you have to learn to sing it with me!” He raised the volume high, the Italian lyrics filling the space, which were completely unfamiliar to Ludwig.

“Uno di questi giorni… andiamo via, penseranno che ci siamo persi, che la colpa è mia,” Feliciano began to sing with ease as if the song was his own hit. He dedicated, he moved, going along with the rather simplistic movements, yet exploding himself when the song started its own bounce. Feliciano really tried to get Ludwig to sing along, but he knew nothing, he butchered the language, stuttered, and made nonsense. Feliciano was glad neither his Nonno Roma nor Lovino were there to hear this or else Ludwig would end up murdered.

Nothing to fret about, they had three weeks and a long trip that could help to fix that. Such a thing as repeat to this song existed.

  Uno di questi giorni Andiamo via Penseranno che ci siamo persi Che la colpa è mia

  A stop at Pisa usually meant a ridiculous picture playing with the leaning of the famous tower. It was a mission Feliciano placed for their stop, insisting that they did it first before they went off to get some lunch. There was the simple one of trying to carry it, one several others around them tried. Feliciano showed no shame in trying them out, even laying on a safe pavement, spreading his legs, a wink in his face, making it seem like the tower was…doing the usual things Ludwig would do to him in their moments of passionate solitude. Ludwig couldn’t believe he had agreed to capturing this, no matter the proudness of his lover, and then later his insisting that Ludwig tried it out. The blond refused to, he remained stoic in all his pictures, only offering some sort of wave in one of them. Feliciano chuckled, but still saved them and found them endearing, going on with compliments as they shared a lunch of pizza.

  E tu metti un bel vestito, quello giusto Quello che ti toglierei

  The sun was still shinning high when they arrived to Livorno, no cloud, a blue of perfection just as the sea that they met. Ludwig had gotten them a nice hotel room, where they left their stuff and quickly headed to a nice beach to enjoy from what was left of their day. Ludwig got out of his large umbrella covered spot only because of Feliciano’s insisting to join him in the water, especially after being invited to play some volleyball with a couple of tourists from Macedonia. Covered well in a SPF 100 sunscreen, he trusted it wouldn’t do harm under this sun, joining in the game he ended up enjoying, swimming on new waters, with Feliciano on his side, to kiss and carry no matter the eyes that saw them.

They didn’t do anything more inappropriate but maybe grind when no one was looking. When it became too heated, they wished their goodbyes and ran back again to their private room, quite a walk from their distance, but in their rush, they made it just in time for the darkening of the day, landing instantly on the bed that quickly met them. Enamored and wanting they were for their touches, on their removing of the few clothes they wore, not caring about the sand, new tan lines, even the dim lighting of the room. The single lamp that shone was enough, lighting their shadows on the walls as they moved together, as Feliciano arched into him, as both their mouths opened and shouted in moans and their names. The next morning, the curtains spread open to alight the room with great shine as if they would be sleeping on the balcony.

He should have expected this from Italy.

Ludwig had awakened simply to stare at him, quite a figure, his skin shinning, brown curls, slightly pinked lips, colors comparing greatly to the white sheets he laid on and scarcely covered the slimness but well-shaped form of his body.

Ludwig had picked his phone hoping to capture it, but by the time he had the camera ready, Feliciano was stretching, looking up to the phone curiously, wondering, and suddenly Ludwig was hesitant to do it, hoping he still had a chance to hide it before Feliciano found out. The brunet smiled instead, closing his eyes once again to feign his earlier sleep, provocative positions, surely ready for whatever Ludwig wanted to take. Ludwig understood the message and began taking his own pictures of him, in his sleep, even ones with woken eyes, turned to him to meet with a smile, hiding or mending himself well with the blankets to make these pictures stand like art alone without the help of filters or any editing.

Like Feliciano, Ludwig had placed one of those pictures as his phone background…at least for the trip.

  Se chiudi gli occhi Giuro che ti porto dove vuoi Ci siamo solamente noi Solamente noi

  They spent that day exploring the village, visiting monuments, impressive terraces, churches, and a fortress. Feliciano didn’t waste time to take pictures, either of the beautiful views, structures, sea, or himself. Ludwig would sometimes take them so Feliciano could get more creative with his poses, or he would force Ludwig to join him, endearing ones where they smiled, proud of their background, an occasional one where Feliciano placed a kiss on his cheek or Ludwig would rest his head on his shoulder and wrap his arms around Feliciano’s waist.

It was by the late afternoon that they took the car once again and headed off to their next destination, Monte Argentario.

Tired, they arrived to their hotel and quickly begged for sleep after a simple dinner, clothed, in their arms, sharing in their slumber and dream.

  Finchè mi resti addosso Il mondo è nostro Cadremo e ne verranno Di inverni Abbracciami e dormi

  They had an entire day to explore this peculiar village, these beautiful beaches that they wasted no time in diving in their blue waters. They hiked, managing to even find more private areas, to have fun in their own way, run, swim, or lay across the shores, waves washing over them as they kissed, took pictures, spoke on, topics such as the last show they were watching, pointing out whatever detail of nature that caught their eyes or sweet endearments that had them both blushing, Ludwig’s red hidden well in the growing burn he was getting.

When they returned back to the hotel, they had to stop by a pharmacy to get him some creams and products to help him heal it. Feliciano hadn’t stopped laughing about it, playful banter between them that only stopped when they noticed the commotion in one of the hotel dining rooms. Music blasted out, people, tourists, or even locals to the mainland, enjoying from drinks and even dancing, if badly, to the rhythm of whatever music that was decided to play. As Ludwig and Feliciano shared dinner by the cooling wind of the beautiful night outside, Ludwig could clearly notice Feliciano’s gazes to the party, to the drinks, the way men and women stuck to each other in provocative dances. When they were done, although rare for Ludwig to decide to partake in these kinds of situations, he still brought Feliciano forward.

They joined in the drinking and chatting with the rest. If any man or woman tried to flirt with Feliciano, Ludwig kept a tight hold on his waist, pulling him close, rubbing his fingers at the edge of his hips, and if they tried to flirt with Ludwig, Feliciano would wrap his arms around his shoulders, placing protective kisses on his cheeks and sometimes mouth once the alcohol was starting to reach Ludwig’s head enough. In that escalation, somehow Ludwig fell at ease to being pulled by Feliciano into the rest of the dancing bodies, choosing a center for them, where they swayed, they moved, even grinded, hands on hips pulling each other into public thrusts that only fitted with the rest of the crowd and even the music Sadly, when they reached their hotel room, later into the night, they were too tired from the alcohol to act on what they had fired and started on the dance floor. It was another night of innocent holding, of closeness, of being wrapped together even with their stenches.

They shared in the headaches the next morning.

  Uno di questi giorni Andiamo via Dillo pure a tutti che non torni Cosa vuoi che sia

  A couple of pills and Ludwig was ready to take on the road for their next destination.

“Is it too much to ask to keep your eyes closed until we get there?” Ludwig wondered, leaving Monte Argentario now behind them.

Feliciano chuckled, he guessed enough what this could mean. “Don’t tell me you got me a castle,” he joked.

“Um…”

  “You rented the entire castle!” Feliciano shouted once he realized.

The echo of his voice went down the spacious halls, the richness of the walls, of tapestries, rugs and medieval relics, noticing they were all for himself, just him and Ludwig, too much power that he found too sudden and didn’t know how to deal with.

“At the beginning I thought about just renting a room, but when I found out there were no weddings planned for the next two days…and talking countlessly with many of the directors and owners, I took the chance."

“How much did it cost you?” Feliciano shouted, fearful, continuing agitation. This entire place made him feel inadequate.

Ludwig sighed in desperation. When would Feliciano understand?

He took his hands with him, tightly and confident, maintaining him still, looking into the sureness of his blue eyes. “It shouldn’t matter to you, just know that I had more than enough and I don’t mind giving whatever it is for you. I thought it would be a nice experience,” he tried to ease him with the idea, taking his easy breaths, settling into the majestic air around them, silent and alone for them to rule as they wanted.

Feliciano had to sigh in defeat, even though he still looked around him with skeptical gazes. “Is this because you wanted to act out some fantasy about being a knight?” Feliciano chuckled, slowly easing, arms now starting its usual wrap of his neck, the sway, the leaning closer into his figure that did not mind at all his mending into him.

“I use to really like those kinds of stories when I was a kid. Gilbert used to read them a lot to me,” he admitted.

“Aaaahhh, so you were!”

“Like you didn’t use to have the same dreams as a kid,”

“I wanted to be a prince.”

“Then you could play the part of the one I need to save.” They leaned for a kiss of sureness and decision.

“Can I give you wild sex as a reward for your knightly deeds?” Feliciano smirked.

“Aren’t you the noblest heir in the realm?”

“Says the one who gets an instant boner after I call him daddy,” he whispered the word seductively into his ear.

It earned instant shivers from Ludwig, blushing and stuttering, not sure where to continue from there. Feliciano noticed and giggled upon his neck, beginning his kisses, his licks and nipping that had the tall commanding knight weak and submissive to whatever his small prince decided to lead him into.

It seemed like the plans Ludwig had made for today were changed instead to a rump in one of the near rooms. He had warned Feliciano of how careful they needed to be, so sadly their sessions couldn’t be as harsh, but lovely ones where they admitted various ‘I love you’s. Many times Ludwig was tempted by Feliciano’s tightness, by his arch, his moans, even the movement of his hair as he moved upon the sheets, to thrash the crafted canopy bed against the fine painted walls. Before that would happen, Feliciano would make his thrusting stop, yet remaining deliciously inside, focusing solely on their eyes, on their kisses and the touches they gave to each other’s jaws and cheeks. Those were enough to have them shouting and releasing to the covers they hoped they could clean thoroughly before they left.

  Io che sono sempre anzi troppo io E mi riconoscerai Anche a luci spente

  In their possession for the day they had an entire castle, and Feliciano just didn’t understand how Ludwig expected to head out to explore the village and lake surrounding them when they could spend them in these walls of riches, architecture, and old stone full of history. The fortress was enough activity for them both, finding new halls, new passages, new rooms, new balconies that offered beautiful views. They dined by them or took siestas (Ludwig had to join after Feliciano insisted), the simplicity of it justly enough.

Feliciano looked so handsome early in the afternoon, gazing to the sparse clouds in the blue sky, dark crafted stone walls at his side, red curtains flying over him, wearing nothing but a loose white blouse shirt that fell over him rather gracefully and regally. Ludwig thought that all he was missing was gold and a crown, and he would look exactly like that image of a prince. Just as Feliciano went for a little nap, he took a picture, where he looked splendorous like an angel, no need for editing to show it enough.

While he napped, Ludwig went quickly to the village, searching through different stores until he got what he wanted. By the time he returned, Feliciano was just awakening, hoping for lunch, but instead he met with his lover bringing forward bags.

“Just though it would suit you right now,” he only hinted.

Feliciano kneeled, gazing into the bags to see new clothing, regal and kingly, all items of wealth that would surely belong to a strong monarch. One of the bags held even a beautiful jeweled flowered crown, simple, elegant, something that would justly fit Feliciano only in this particular setting.

“What for?” Not that he didn’t mind it, they were all excellent, but he noticed a recurrent theme.

That’s when Ludwig hanged over Feliciano his own camera.

“You did say once I should be a photographer, and I do need a model for this particular shoot I’m planning.”

Feliciano smiled gleefully once he understood.

For many of the pictures, the simple white blouse shirt was enough, the crown proudly on his head, a thin golden chocker around his neck, tight bracelets on his wrists, tight pants, boots with the seductive heel Feliciano knew drove Ludwig crazy and an occasional simple cape joined. He took pictures sitting in windows, arms extending as if pretending that the view was all part of his kingdom. There were ones of him climbing stairs, looking back with an inviting stare that would have anyone weak and following to wherever those staircases lead. There was one in which he sat on the floor, near a window that gave him an excellent sunshine, the rays just as strong as the smile that he gave the day. There were ones of him jumping, dancing, skipping, spinning, the camera capturing the amazing way the fold of his clothing danced alongside him or flew perfectly to accentuate his figure, his hair, his eyes, even the crafted features of his delicate but full face.

One in particular, a close up, Feliciano was holding one of the old books from a near library, gazing onward curiously, as if hoping to figure out a mystery the walls of this castle held. To Ludwig it was the most enticing, tempting and alluring, a human jewel that he couldn’t continue to leave unattended. His lust couldn’t hold it much longer and Feliciano could feel it in the intense way his blue eyes seemed to pierce him, wanting that immediate thrusting, those immediate kisses and feverish holds. Ludwig was on him before Feliciano could even remove his cape properly, falling against the floor, already moving, already kissing, their removal of clothes slow, so desperate for each other that Feliciano still kept on his blouse and crown, Ludwig kept his pants, only the button and zipper free so his erection could lance forward into the majesty of his dreams. High moans, harsh thrusting that earned from Ludwig grunts and growls, feeling every inch, every depth, every kiss, every wrap of arms and legs.

“A-aren’t- aren’t we supposed to be-aaaaahhhhhh careful,” Feliciano reminded, just as he received a particular thrust that had his head rolling and shouting to the echoes of the halls. He wondered if Ludwig had even heard it, for no matter he continued to thrust as harshly, to nip at his neck, caress his side and rear that he occasionally grabbed to pull him more into his onslaught.

“Uggh-aaaaaaaaa, we-we’re on the ground, I-I-I-Oh god aaaaaa-we can’t cause much damage here.”

Feliciano decided to trust his words, because honestly, he really liked this rough and wild Ludwig, who lost in his lust and want could only care about pleasuring Feliciano and showing however he could his love. Feliciano answered to it, just as lost, just as begging for harsher bites, thrusts, grabs, growing, growing, growing, release reaching them, and suddenly there was a crack, there was blood, and also bruises.

  Apparently the throws were so intense that Ludwig and Feliciano had managed to create a small dent in one of the prestigious floors. The bottom area of Feliciano’s back had suffered a large bruising because of it, which had Ludwig quickly stopping and rushing them off to a near pharmacy to get bandages and ointments. They returned to the scene that had them both awake during the early part of night as they tried to think of a way they could fix it, even with Feliciano’s continuing back pains, but it was impossible. They simply told it to the workers the next morning, using the excuse that they had just dropped something heavy and large. Ludwig was only required to pay a fine, which he gladly did, both bolting out of there in their embarrassment.

Their next stop was Rome, only a fifty-four minute ride from Lake Bracciano. Even if the short trip, Feliciano couldn’t find it in to sit still, groaning, trying to find comfort in his rear and back, Ludwig feeling great fault, rubbing what he could, offering to do everything to lessen the necessity of his movements.

One of the few comforts Feliciano had was checking his Instagram feed, shares, likes, and comments flowing endlessly with the pictures Ludwig had taken in the castle. He actually found the same pictures shared in pinterest, tumblr, facebook, even a youtube video where it played with quite a delightful song that reminded him of fairy tales. He showed it all to Ludwig, who would kiss his forehead proudly, their hands intertwined, focusing on these distractions away from the pain.

< previous chapter                                                                                                     next chapter >

[fates-factory]

Thank you so much again for the terrific fic! Because of the amazing story with the Ragelope, could you write a sequel where the group tries to pass by Rin and Tchlatga from the first Etrian Odyssey game through the desert and it results in a fight? I am sorry for all the Etrian Odyssey related stories.

Hopefully this lives up to the last one! Thanks again for the requests!

[sidenote: going to start putting word counts and “read more” cuts so that longer posts don’t take up too much dash space]

Words: 2741

“You're not serious,” Niles said, utterly disgusted, “After the fiasco that was the last mission?”

“It didn't go that bad, you guys mostly took care of it,” Corrin shrugged, “and we don't really have anyone to spare right now,”

“Then who heard the rumor about this supposed treasure?” Niles prompted.

“That would be me,” Nyx stepped out from behind Corrin, “Sadly I cannot accompany you either because I'm the only one in this army capable of scrying that far to keep an eye on you,”

“Could you not do it the other way around?” the archer pleaded,.

“Not a chance,” Nyx snubbed him.

“Do we even need the treasure? Don't you have the wealth of both royal families behind you?” Niles tried a different tactic.

“If only, but it seems the royal coffers were left behind,” Corrin chuckled sheepishly, “You'll do fine, you guys have all been training hard since then,”

“If you slink around like you usually do, then you should do just fine,” Nyx flipped her hair and left. Corrin followed her with a shrug and a weapons order he could fill out as he deemed fit.

“SO HOT!” Zola moaned.

“I should have left you behind,” Niles gritted his teeth.

“His lightning magic has proven useful before,” Yukimura tried, “Besides, Lord Corrin is the commander, we need to follow his orders no matter how questionable they might be,” This time the old man rode a mechanical lion loaded with extra ammunition. Niles had broken down and gone to Princess Elise to teach him how to wield a staff. He had made sure to bring a fully charged one that was currently hanging at his belt.

“I wonder what glittery bauble Nyx promised our fates crossed leader,” Izana wondered aloud.

“It better be something good, as much as I love a good, heated encounter, I would rather it in the bedroom, not in a blasted desert,” Niles stepped up on the crest of a dune and stopped.

Ahead was a ruin, or rather a scattering of runes. Nyx had assured them the treasure was found in the eastern most part, the side they would come in from. The group hoped it would be that easy, Zola doing so aloud and frequently. They approached the edge of the ruins.

“You three should stay here, keep a look out, I'll be in and out,” Niles turned quickly.

“Are you sure it is wise?” Yukimura questioned, “What if something should happen in there, how are we to know about it?”

“This is how I spent the former half of my life,” Niles snarled, “I know my way around and I assure you I'll avoid any traps or monsters better if I am alone,”

“Let him go, if he's not back in an hour we should just leave him for dead,” Zola sneered. His bravado didn't last long with an arrow pointed in his face.

“Maybe I should take you with me, you'd make a great trap hound,” Niles hissed.

“I can't sniff out traps,” Zola looked confused.

“I think he means he lets you go first so you'll find the traps by triggering them,” Izana pointed out, “I think I'd rather wait out here, I'm quite enjoying this sunshine, it's certainly been a while since I've last had a chance to sit back,”

“You won't be sitting back, you'll be keeping watch,” Niles dropped the draw of his bow and slipped the arrow back into its quiver.

He stepped away from the others when out of the corner of his eye he caught a movement. He grabbed an arrow out again, nocking it and drawing the bow.

“Show yourself,” He growled in that direction, “I only need one good eye to spot an enemy, and only one arrow to-”

The tip of his drawn arrow disappeared and a shadow took form before them.

“Tchlatga, I thought I told you to stay well hidden until I took them down,” The person in front of them grumbled to the shape that peeked out from a tilting pillar.

“Sorry Ren,” came a quiet, flat reply, the shape pulling out further, becoming another person with a cloak that looked eerily monster-like as it flapped in the wind.

“Take us out?” Niles spoke aloud, “Whatever would a lady need to do that for?”

“Says the man pointing an arrow at my chest,” the first shadow, a swordswoman had an even tone to her powerful voice.

“Fair enough,” Niles didn't let his draw down, “but you can hardly blame me when you pop out of nowhere darling,”

“You're all armed,” It was a statement, not a question.

“All I want is fifteen minutes in this ruin just here, no more,” Niles nodded towards the first entrance he could see.

“He warned me of thieves,” The woman sighed, “Tchlatga, would you raise the barrier?”

“No need for that, we'll leave!” Zola squealed, throwing himself back a few feet.

“It's what Ren wants,” the cloaked woman shrugged, a circle shining around her and then around them all, a barrier shining to life around them. Zola screamed and tried to dash out of the circle, but was met by a solid force.

“I must follow my orders,” the swordswoman lifted her sword.

“So do we, but I'd much rather deal with diplomacy than violence,” Yukimura stepped up atop his automaton.

“Your weapons betray your words,” the cloaked one seemed to raise her arms, but when they were aloft, they could see that it was merely her cloak floating over her head like claws. She began chanting in the background. The swords woman Ren came in for an attack, taking swings to disperse Niles and Yukimura. A glittering Dragon flew past, Izana twirling his dragon scroll and preparing to cast it again.

“I suppose a fight is unavoidable,” Yukimura grimaced, rearing up his automaton, “We shall not make it easy,” the statement was punctuated by a line of shuriken rapidly fired from the lion's mouth following Ren as she dashed towards them again. Niles shot a couple arrows towards Ren before changing his target and firing at Tchlatga, the quiet sorceress, still chanting her curse. The first seemed to bounce off her, the second went through, flying through her cloak, leaving a hole in the animated fabric. It didn't seem enough to distract the chant, but her words sped up a fraction.

Izana dodged a sword swipe and yelled, “Zola, the barrier isn't going to be gone, get up and help!”

“We're all going to die!” Zola blubbered, that is until Izana tackled him out of the way of Ren's sword.

“That is precisely how it will go if you don't pick up your tome,” Izana actually growled, “My funeral might be the biggest party of the century, but I highly doubt you will even get one,” his cheerful voice returned but was shot through with ice. It was enough to get Zola on his feet, his tome in his hand. As Ren continued her dance with Niles and Yukimura, Zola took it on himself to skirt around the barrier and set his sights on Tchlatga. He began his incantation, hoping hers was still yet longer so he could finish before her. Luck was not on his side for her voice dropped from her ears and suddenly he heard the cries of two of the others. He glanced over, continuing to utter the incantation, as he watched Yukimura's puppet stop in its tracks and Niles skid to a stop his bow flung away from him. Both men appeared to have their arms bound at their sides. Only the archer continued moving, running towards his lost weapon, Ren cutting him off and stalling him, landing a couple hits, wounding the archer.

Zola finished the spell and sent a bolt of lightning at both of the women. Ren grunted, but the shock of the hit paused her long enough for Niles to get past her. Tchlatga made no indication of being hit, until Izana's glittering dragon collided with her, sending her stumbling. Her spell broke along with her balance as Niles was able to grab his bow again and Yukimura's puppet sprung back to life as his arms were freed.

Spells flew alongside arrows and shuriken, while the sword flashed along to the chanting voice of its companion. Both sides had been wounded to some extent, the fatigue of the fight was settling among them.

Tchlatga began a chant, this one sounded much more rushed than the others, but despite her flat voice, her features betrayed her fury. The claws on her cloak looked sharper than before, despite the cloaks tattered appearance and her expression was one of anger, but Niles noticed a certain desperation in it.

“Target the swords woman now!” He called to his the others. Each of them turned their attacks to the swords woman. Before the sorceress had made shielding her companion her priority, but this time her angry spell didn't stop, the desperation in her features becoming more apparent. Ren tried her best to dodge the onslaught, but for every attack she managed to divert, another hit her from another angle. She took her sword and in a last ditch effort charged at Yukimura and drove her sword through him. He made a grunt thrusting his arm out in a motion that shot an arrow right into Ren's body in front of him. They both slumped to the ground together, Yukimura's automaton making a mighty clatter as it went completely limp beside its downed master.

Niles swore and dashed towards him, ordering the other two to switch targets. He pulled out the staff at his hip as he ran.

“Chaos curse,” came the chilling last words of the sorceress and suddenly Niles could not move. His eye found Zola and Izana in the same boat, stuck in mid cast. Izana looked ridiculous, caught in an elaborate dance-like twirl. Zola simply had his arm extended, but his hunched form was rather rat-like, a twisted smirk across his frozen face. Niles watched as the sorceress stumbled to her companion, a spell was uttered over her, likely something to keep her alive. Niles fought against the enchantment as hard as he could. Tchlatga fired a few of her basic curses at them, Niles feeling each one run through him with a shudder of pain. He could feel his energy failing, and after a couple more hits, he felt the paralysis lift and his body, unable to continue its trajectory, simply falling to the ground. No amount of movement could be drawn from his limbs, one last blast knocking him into blackness.

Zola saw the archer fall and instantly felt the paralysis lift and unbidden the spell he had just finished before he had been frozen in place hummed under his skin until he uttered it's name, firing it at the sorceress. His magic hadn't seemed very effective before, but weakened as she was, it didn't really matter anymore as she recoiled at the electricity hitting her. Izana stumbled out of his paralysis, then grabbed his scroll to re-start his spell.

He spun the scroll out in front of him, “And now, I rage!” throwing all of his flowery finesse out the window he thrust both hands forward sending the dragon spiraling quickly towards its target. It hit her squarely in the chest and the cloak behind her began to droop into a regular cloak.

Zola began chanting, wanting to land a final hit to knock her out for good, but before he could, Tchlatga yelled, “Return!” The two women shimmering before they vanished from sight, Zola's last effort crashing into the sand with a crack.

“What now?” Zola blinked.

“You can do whatever you want, I'm going to go make sure those two aren't dead,” Izana grumbled, clearly unsatisfied with the turn out, “All that power for nothing,” Zola caught as the diviner turned away, pulling out a staff that had been hiding within his voluminous robes, twirling it over each man. Yukimura simply groaned. Niles bolted up, warily looking around before deflating.

“Judging by the lack of bodies, I'd say they got away?” He asked Izana.

“Just barely, I put all my energy into one cast only for her to teleport out with her companion,” Izana glanced towards Yukimura, “You may want to use your staff on the old man, mine isn't strong enough for his wounds, and maybe a wave for me if you don't mind, I'm pooped,”

Niles gave him and incredulous look before simply pointing the staff his way, the glowing crystal the only indication it had done its work. Niles stepped over to Yukimura, pointing it in the same way, the crystal glowing brighter that before. Yukimura woke but didn't move.

“Save your energy old man, I'm going to go collect our prize and then we are leaving,” Niles said directly, none of the usual bite or sass in his voice. Neither Zola nor Izana stopped him as he entered the ruins, choosing instead to wait patiently in the sand with the downed mechanist. They found out quickly that Niles had not lied when he'd said to the women that he'd be in and out in fifteen minutes when he came out with a bow that sparkled brightly as it came out into the light.

“Seems this was a worthy endeavour after all,” Niles snorted, then dug something else out of his pouch, producing a knife that he tossed to Yukimura, and then a scroll and a tome to each of the casters.

“Interesting, a caltrops,” Yukimura nodded to the weapon, tucking it into his own pouch.

“A flighty bird spirit, how fitting,” Izana chuckled at his own expense.

“Moonlight?” Zola flipped the tome open, scrutinizing the book.

“Yes, now you can take care of yourself for once,” Niles snorted, “Your lucky I even bothered to pick it up for you,”

“Uh, yeah,” Zola cleared his throat at the casual display of disdain, “I suppose that's true.”

“So was the mission worth it?” a voice filled their heads, Nyx's smug tone betraying the probable smirk on her face.

“Worth getting nearly killed over?” Niles snapped, “Hardly,”

“Geez, excuse me for sending you on the easiest mission I could think of,” the roll of her eyes was clear as if she was right there.

“Again hardly,” Niles crossed his arms angerly.

“What our sharp edged companion means to say is that we were unprepared for the enemies that we found,” Yukimura spoke up, “did you not sense them?”

“Enemies, you mean the rats in that ruin, surely you don't mean the rats,” Nyx's confusion seemed genuine, “Well you guys did kind of vanish from my sight for a while,”

“Of course,” Zola groaned, “That barrier,” his insight earned a surprised look from the whole party.

“I suppose I did sense a brief spike in magical energy before you four vanished,” Nyx mused, “but then you all reappeared alive, so I figured you simply were underground getting the weapons.”

Izana spoke up, “Forgive me for saying, but the reckless impression of your scrying is rather unacceptable,”

“Then you do it, I'm sure your gods can curse you with that knowledge, or is dark magic taboo to your deities,” Nyx answered angerly before her voice was no more.

“That was informative,” Niles hummed, “You do dark magic don't you Zola?”

“I have touched it before,” Zola admitted hesitantly.

“Excellent, you can stain your soul and learn from that witch then, to make our jobs easier next time,” Niles clapped.

“Forget it, Even I won't stoop that low, at least she got to stay pretty for her trouble, I've seen sorcerers become wildly disfigured from such strong magic,” Zola waved his arms in denial, “I'm getting out of here,” Zola began walking away.

“I suppose we should leave before those two women make a reappearance,” Niles shrugged, following.

Izana and Yukimura looked at each other before following after them back into the bleak desert to rejoin the army.