#the old men behind me were chatting pleasantly like 'oh once we get through this line we'll be done in 20 minutes'

[singinrevelry]

I would like to wish everyone as pleasant an experience as I just had at the dmv

[mandoalorian]

Office Surprise [Maxwell Lord x Reader] SMUT

Authors note: Credit goes to one of my besties for coming up with this idea— I hope I executed it alright. Also I wrote this all in one sitting so apologies if it’s a bit muddled, I think it should be okay though. Maxwell and the reader have a pre-existing relationship and it’s inferred that they’ve dated for quite a long while. 

Rating: 18+ only.

Warnings: SMUT | oral (f receiving), use of toys, unprotected p in v, slight praise k!nk/degradation, a little rough, slight dom/sub dynamic if you squint, choking.

Word count: 5k

Permanent taglist - let me know if you want to be added: @supernaturalgirl​ @phoenixhalliwell​ @ah-callie​ @luvzoria​ @stardust-galaxies​ @wickedfrsgrl​ @goth-topic​ @nerdypinupcrystal​ @wonderfulfluffer @kiwi-the-first​ @pedroepascal​

Masterlist

Being the girlfriend of Maxwell Lord certainly wasn’t always sunshine and rainbows, but as you swiped his platinum black Amex card at the Victoria Secret cashier, you recognised it had its privileges. What did he expect you to do? Sit at home all day reading interior design magazines and baking desserts? No. You were bored. Maxwell had come home every night and complained about his long hard week at work but you knew it couldn’t be as boring as sitting alone in his enormous DC house. It got so incredibly lonely.

You planned on travelling to the city anyways today; to get some final Christmas presents for your friends. And Maxwell’s office just so happened to be located in the city centre and so you figured it would only be polite to pay him a little visit. After all, he surely couldn’t be too busy to see you. You had his driver drop you off and pick you up from the different shops. You had been dating Maxwell long enough to understand the way his mind worked. If you wanted to visit him during one of his busiest work weeks, you’d have to give him a reason to make you want to stay.

You had visited his office plenty of times before. He’d greet you with the same surprised smile and elation in his eyes, but it wouldn’t be long until he put his head back down and ignored you for his work, humming whenever you tried speaking to him and only ever vaguely listening. As Maxwell’s driver took you to your next store of choice, you let your mind ponder ways you could really grab his full attention.

You wanted to have fun. The more your mind raced, the more you wanted to make your visit unforgettable. And that’s when your idea to visit Victoria Secret came to you. You hadn’t been to the store in a while, smiling pleasantly when you were greeted with a happy employee wearing a santa hat. Pulling down your sunglasses in hope she didn’t recognise you, you offered her a smile. “We have our new Christmas range in stock.” she grinned cheerily.

“Take me to it, please,” you replied and the employee nodded excitedly, guiding you through the aisles.

“A lot of red lingerie sets this year.” She held her arms out, showing you the variety. One pieces, two pieces, full blown costumes. One set in particular caught your eye… a lacy number with a small silk ribbon. It was like nothing you owned before and you knew how much Maxwell liked the colour red on you. You took it from the rack. “An excellent choice!” the store assistant beamed. You were ready to pay and leave but then she opened her mouth again. “We have a new range of toys too!” 

Toys? That could be interesting.

Before you knew it, you were in the back of the black limousine, frantically changing out of your clothes and into your newly purchased lingerie. It only took a few minutes for the driver to pull up outside Black Gold Cooperative. You fastened your heels and tied the belt around your knee length crimson coloured coat before stepping out of the car. 

You practically yelped as the cold winter air stung your skin. You weren’t sure how great of an idea it was, to visit Maxwell wearing nothing but lingerie and his favourite coat, but it was too late to have any regrets now. With a confident smile, you pulled off your sunglasses and entered the building through the rotating glass doors.

Maxwell’s assistant and receptionist, both intern age blonde girls, greeted you with a snarl. “You- you aren’t supposed to be here!” His assistant pointed an accusing finger at you. “Mr Lord is fully booked up today and you haven’t made an appointment!” 

“Give me a break,” you rolled your eyes, storming over to the elevator, your heels clicking against the marble floor. You knew they envied you for being the girlfriend of the richest man in America but you didn’t care enough to give them the time of day.

You entered the elevator and let it take you to the very top floor; where Maxwell’s office was.

"Oh hey, look who it is." Bradley Huntington, acting sales manager of Black Gold Cooperative smiled as you stepped out the elevator. Two men who were standing alongside him turned to face you, their jaw dropping slightly as they drunk in your appearance. You refrained from shooting them an eye roll— the men here had absolutely no shame. They wanted you to know that they were watching you.

"Hi boys." you replied with a faux politeness, your ruby red lips curling into a returning smile. "What are you doing out here, chatting by the coffee machine?" you raised a curious eyebrow. "Maxwell going easy on your workload?" You didn't care, you didn't snoop your nose in your boyfriend's business, but you did enjoy pretending like you had some kind of authority as his partner. It was fun to see these slimy grown men panic at your words.

"On a break," Bradley replied plainly, his smirk only growing as he took a step closer to you, breaking any distance. "I don't see you around here much anyway. Was beginning to wonder if you had gotten sick of that old grump and made a run for it." he chuckled, dropping a hand to his hip and pointing his finger at the double doors behind him that lead into Maxwell Lord's office.

You shot him a sweet little giggle, as if to trick him into thinking his flirtations were working. "Leave Maxie?" you laughed. "That cutie wouldn't have a clue what to do without me!" you exclaimed, the wicked smile not leaving your lips for one second. "Now if you excuse me…" you went to enter Maxwell's office but a comment made by Bradley made you pause in your tracks.

"Sweetheart," he laughed. "You belong on MTV, not in an office building or cooped up in Maxwell's bedroom."

"Isn't he Mr Lord to you?" you shot back with a snarl, the smile slipping from his face only momentarily. You grinned when you saw the panic wash over him, his face turning pale with nerves.

"Uh actually- me and Mr Lord- me and Maxwell, are good friends. We're on first name basis." Bradley fumbled out. You wanted to laugh at his lame attempt of a smooth recovery. You knew that wasn't true at all.

"Good friends huh?" you folded your arms across your chest.

"Mm," Bradley mumbled, stepping closer to you and placing his hand over your coat. "Take your coat off, you must be hot." You felt your heart jump and a sickness bubble up in your stomach. Bradley really was slimy.

"I'm good." you shot back. Bradley shrugged and reached down to the belt that was holding your coat together. He slowly leaned into you and you quickly pushed him off you. Bradley stumbled back into an abundance of chairs, knocking a few over in the process.

"Darling?" You felt your heart rate increase speed when you heard your boyfriend's voice. Your head turned to face Maxwell who was standing by his office door, scowling. You looked back at Bradley who's colour had completely drained out of his face and you beamed.

"Maxie!" you smiled, walking over to your boyfriend and protectively placing a hand under his suit jacket and setting place on his chest. His scowl didn't move from Bradley as he slid an arm around your waist, holding you tight.

"Thought I could hear your voice," Maxwell whispered in your ear causing a frenzy of butterflies to erupt in your stomach. "What are you doing here?"

"Just came to catch up with your friends." you teased. Maxwell lifted a curious eyebrow.

"Is that so?" he quizzed, beginning to feel irritated by the presence of his employees, and even more annoyed by the lilt in your voice that suggested you wanted to play with him.  "I hope Bradley wasn't causing any fuss." Maxwell raised his voice and Bradley shook his head furiously.

"N-no sir, not at all." Bradley said quickly, offering the CEO a nervous smile. You bit your lip and gently tugged on Maxwell's tie.

"Baby," you whined out, looking up at him through your fluttering eyelashes. "Can we go into your office?" you asked sweetly. Maxwell finally tore his eyes from an anxious Bradley and smiled down at you.

"Of course darling." he replied, ushering you through the door.

"Bye boys! Behave!" you called, shooting them one last smirk.

"Alright come on now." Maxwell sighed, placing his hand into the small of your back and pushing you into his office.

You padded into his huge office, placing your purse and shopping bags down on one of the chairs. Before Maxwell entered, he made sure to shoot Bradley one final death glare. Maxwell locked the double doors and turned around. He grabbed you by the collar of your red coat and pinned you to the door, pressing his lips against yours passionately. In fact, so passionately, you wondered if his harshness would leave a bruise. He bit down on your lower lip, his hand snapping ahold of your neck causing a small gasp escape your lips. Maxwell pulled away, his breathing heavy against your skin. "What happened?" he gritted out, looking up at you with lust-blown eyes.

You placed your hands on his shoulders and pushed him off you, walking away from where he had pinned you against the door. "Nothing, just your sleazy coworkers not knowing when to give up." you rolled your eyes, checking your appearance in the mirror and fixing your lipstick as it had smudged from the kiss.

"Bradley," Maxwell exhaled, his eye contact not breaking from you once. "Did he touch you?"

"Enough to make me uncomfortable? Yes. But I got him off me. I can handle myself, Maxie." you sighed, fixing your hair and turning back to your boyfriend.

"I know you can," Maxwell said lowly, slowly approaching you. You recognised that primal glint lighting up in his eyes and you smiled. "What did he say to you?"

"Said I shouldn't spend all day cooped up at home, or here, in your office. He said I was pretty enough to be on MTV." you beamed proudly and Maxwell grunted, nodding slowly. He placed a hand, cupping your face and rubbed his thumb along the high of your cheekbones.

"He must've been feeling bold, hitting on you like that." Maxwell tutted. You nuzzled your face into his hand, the coolness of his gold rings making you wince only slightly.

"What do you think Maxie?" you asked, your voice as sweet as honey. "Am I pretty enough to be on television?" you let your hands pull off his suit jacket and roam over his white button down shirt, tugging teasingly at his suspenders as you waited for a response.

But Maxwell didn't stay a word. He looked down at you with his lust-blown eyes and ran his thumb over the plumpless of your lower lip. You parted your mouth, taking his finger and sucking on the digit. Maxwell mewled as he watched you intently, admiring the work of your mouth. You pulled your lips away from his finger with a pop and beamed proudly when you saw the slight blush that crossed his face.

"I think you show up at my work uninvited, dressed like that, flirting with my employees…" he scowled, his gaze not lifting from you once. You wanted to fight him for accusing you of flirting with other men, but you knew him. And he knew you. He knew you would always be faithful; he was just playing a game. Another one of Maxwell Lord's twisted games that you had grown accustomed too. He had that look in his eye— the one you were all too familiar with. It was almost predatory. He tsked, shaking his head and letting out a small chuckle. "Look at you, here, in my office, thinking you can call the shots. I'm busy darling, go home."

"Oh," you hummed, biting your lip and twiddling with your hair. "Because if you're too busy... Bradley offered me-" Your lilt was teasing and you could tell it was making him feel defensive. You knew how protective he got over you.

"What?" Maxwell sneered, his hand dropping to the belt that held your coat together.

You gulped, knowing that if he just tugged a little harder on the belt, your little surprise for him would be revealed. "He- uhm, he-"

"C'mon honey, spit it out." Maxwell smirked, loving the jumbled reaction he was getting out of you, although he was unsure why you were suddenly so nervous when you had walked into his office so confidently. His hands didn't leave your belt and you took a deep breath, looking up at him and into his eyes.

"Said that if I ever get bored of you, I know where to find him." You pursed your lips together and shot him a devilish smile.

"Tell me darling," Maxwell hummed, his hand once again reaching up to your face, his finger brushing over your lips. "What urged you to come to my office in the middle of the day when you know I'm swarmed with work?" he narrowed his eyes.

"I got bored." you admitted sheepishly, swaying your hips from side to side.

"So you come to my work… act like a brat and…" Maxwell paused when he saw you pout. "What?"

"I didn't do anything wrong Maxie." you whined. "Was all them. Was all Bradley." 

"You have everything at home. Everything you need to keep you occupied." Maxwell glanced over at your shopping bags that were on his chair. "Spending my money?" Maxwell asked and you nodded shyly.

"But I think you'll like it." you told him, biting your lip.

"Show me."

You placed his hands back on the belt of your coat. "See for yourself." you whispered with a smirk.

Taking the hint, Maxwell slowly tugged on your belt that was tying your coat together. Coming loose, your coat opened up, revealing the lace red lingerie set you were doting, and nothing else. Maxwell's gaze fell from your face to your body as he revelled in the gorgeous sight that stood before him. You stood there in silence for a few seconds, as he drunk in every inch of your body.

"You've been wearing that this whole time?" Maxwell swallowed, staring at your tits. Finally he brought himself to look up at your face, taking a deep breath and straightening his posture. "While you were talking to Brad-"

"Max please," you rolled your eyes, shuffling out of the coat and letting it drop to the floor.

"I've never seen it before." Maxwell admitted.

"It's new," you told him, taking a step closer and pulling off his suit jacket, letting it pool on the floor alongside your winter coat. "Got it for you. You like it?" you smiled, twirling around and giving him a little dance. Your heels clicked against the marble floor as you spun around for him. Maxwell didn't say anything, but if the bulge in his tailored pants was anything to go off… you giggled. "Oh Maxie, you do like it."

Maxwell cleared his throat. "Whilst you do look ravishing, I am busy so-" 

"But I wasn't finished showing you what I bought." you poured, blinking your doe-like eyes and folding your arms over your chest, the lace grazing your skin.

Maxwell shook his head and walked back over to his desk, sinking into his office chair. He cursed under his breath as he began to palm himself under his desk knowing you wouldn't be able to see. He looked down at the abundance of papers, trying to concentrate, but it wasn't working. Giving in, he looked back over to you.

You were bent over, rummaging through one of your shopping bags in search of something. Your legs were spaced apart so perfectly, Maxwell knew you must've been doing it on purpose— to tease him. His eyes felt heavy as he watched you, his fingers grazing over his throbbing length. He felt so restricted, so confined… but he didn't want to give you the liberty of knowing what you had done to him. When he saw you straighten yourself back up, he looked back down at the stack of papers on his desk. 

You picked out a long black box with no markings, and placed it before Maxwell on his desk. Maxwell looked up at you, waiting for an explanation. "What is it?" he asked and you shrugged nonchalantly.

"Open it." you urged with a smile. Maxwell hesitated, his gaze wandering to the locked door, back to you, and then down at the matte box. He carefully undone the ribbon that wrapped it and opened the lid. Rummaging amongst the tissue, his eyes glinted with desire and wicked delight upon finding what you had bought. He couldn't help but smirk. "Well?" you cooed, perching yourself on the corner of your desk.

Maxwell nodded, not saying a word. He took the purple vibrator out of the box and put it down on the desk next to his stationary. "This couldn't have waited until I got home?" he quizzed, his voice breaking slightly. You grinned and shook your head. "I see."

"Am I in trouble?" you pouted and Maxwell's smirk grew. He pushed the papers and the stationary from his desk, clearing it of room.

"Lie down." he demanded and you squealed excitedly. You reached down to your feet to unclip your heels when Maxwell brought his hand to your neck. "No. Keep them on." he ordered sternly. You bit your lip and nodded, obeying his request. His large hand still wrapped around your neck, he carefully pushed you into the table.

The coolness of the expensive oak made you squirm. Maxwell walked around his desk, grabbing your legs and dragging your body further down closer to him. He spread them apart and began to kiss along your thighs. "I do love this colour on you." he mumbled into your skin, his fingers gracing your soaked core through the red lace. You shivered under his touch and you swore you could feel his smirk press into your skin.

"I know." you admitted with a shaky exhale. He wasted no time teasing. He thought it was only fair he got a little payback. The curve of his nose nudged against your clit as he pressed soft kisses into your cunt.

You brought your hands down to your panties in attempt to wriggle them off and free yourself but Maxwell's large ring clad hands stopped you. "Patience." he muttered and you let out a whine as he licked you through the material.

"Please," you begged, your toes curling with pleasure as he kisses around your entrance. 

"I thought you bought this lingerie for me, baby," Maxwell chuckled, his warm breath going straight through your core.

"I did." you muttered, your eyes fluttering shut as he continued to kiss and lick.

"So let me enjoy it," he growled, lifting his head up from between your legs and fumbling with the little red bow at the top of your panties. "It's cute." Maxwell smiled and you felt your cheeks heat up. He pulled your legs further down and you wrapped them around his waist as he leaned over your body.

Hovering over you, he pressed a soft kiss into your neck and began to palm at your breast, running his thumb over your hardening nipple as he slid his tongue into your mouth. You brought your hands up to his hair and laced your fingers in his dark blonde locks, tugging on it just the way you knew he liked. You wondered if he was going to even take your bra off; heck— you wondered if he was going to take his own clothes off. He was standing over you in his suit pants and white work shirt, although the tie and the suspenders had been ditched.

You were breathless when Maxwell pulled away from your lips and his hand wrapped around your throat again, squeezing gently. The pressure made you gasp out a soft moan as he brought his kisses down your neck and along your collarbones, down the valley of your breasts and your stomach until his head was positioned back in between your legs.

"You're exquisite." Maxwell sighed, raking in his view.  He pressed his middle finger and index finger into your core, feeling how damp your panties already were. "All for me?" he cooed, his brown eyes sparkling with delight. He switched over to his thumb where he began to rub your clit. "Such a good girl." he praised, beginning to tear away your new underwear from your body.

Pretty soon, your red panties were thrown aimlessly on the floor along with Maxwell's suit jacket and your winter coat and Maxwell wasted no time into latching his mouth onto your pussy. You practically screamed at the way his tongue worked within you, lapping up all your arousal like he hadn't had a decent meal in his life. "Hungry?" you joked breathlessly. Not in the mood, Maxwell didn't unattach his lips from you but he did insert two of his fingers without warning. You found yourself arching your back, moaning wantonly as he worked through your core. His groans as he sucked on your clit left vibrations rifle through your body as his fingers pounded inside of you. Obscene wet sounds echoed through his office as a result from his actions.

You dug your heels into his back and felt your legs start to shake uncontrollably as his movements became faster and more intense. His hands grabbed your thighs as he tried to steady you but it was barely any use. Seeing that you were close, he kept up his stamina until your climax ripped through your body, soaking his lips dripping down his chin. When he pulled away, you felt yourself blush at the state he was in. His hair had fallen out of place and his face was glistening with a mixture of his sweat and your juices.

Maxwell unclipped his gold cufflinks, tossing them on the floor and rolling up his sleeves to his elbows. Just as you were about to thank him, his hand reached over to the vibrator. "M-Max," you tried to protest as he flicked the switch. It began to buzz erratically and he spent a few moments accustoming himself to the different speeds and pressures. "Max." you wriggled, trying to sit up, but he pushed you back down, hushing you. The least he could do was wait until you had recovered from your first orgasm, but no. He pressed the vibrator to your clit casually and another gasp tore through you. "Max!" you yelled and he chuckled.

"I like this one." he grinned, adjusting the speed and watching you toss and turn on his desk.

"Fuck, Max," you yelped, your fingers curling into a fist as you began to feel that familiar warmth in your stomach signifying that you were close.

"Aw, you going to cum again?" Maxwell chuckled, turning up the speed to the highest setting. "Look at you, all spread out on my desk screaming my name."

Your vision became hazy and your eyes snapped shut as your orgasm hit you leaving you dizzy and panting. Maxwell shut off the vibrator and tossed it to one side. You groaned, holding your face in your hands as you came down your high. Maxwell stared at you, all messed up on his desk, and he couldn't rid himself of his smile.

You looked down to see his damage. "Oh Maxie," you whimpered, reaching your hands out when you saw the bulge stretching out his tailored pants. You sat upright and Maxwell gave you a small kiss on the head. "Let me help you." you whispered, moving your hands to his zipper but he swatted them away. You looked up at him with furrowed eyebrows as he tsked you. "Maxwell Lord denying head?" you scoffed, reaching back out to his pants. Your fingers only slightly brushed over his length but it was enough to make him shudder. He pushed you back into the oak desk for a third time.

"Stay." he commanded, his voice gruff as he ran his fingers through his hair and pushed his locks out of his face. His eyes were practically black as he examined you, pushing apart your legs and running his fingers along your dripping folds.

"Stop- teasing-" you growled, tossing your head back. "You- you've already got two orgasms out of me."

"And I know I can get one more." Maxwell snarled, unzipping his pants and pulling out his rock hard length. He collected the beads of his precum and rubbed it over his throbbing cock, just the gentlest of strokes almost pushing him over the edge.

You were too busy staring at the pretty gold pattern in the ceiling, a feeling of pure blissed out euphoria washed over your spent body, when you felt your boyfriend's cock push between your entrance. "How's this?" Maxwell grunted as he snapped his hips deep inside of you. "Could Bradley do this?"

You curled your hands into a fist as he thrust deep inside of you, repeating his movements hard and fast with no mercy. "Sh- shut upppp." you whined, grabbing onto his biceps as he pushed his body over yours to hit at a deeper angle. He laughed and pressed his hand into your throat once more.

"Ngh- so pretty," he cursed under his breath. You closed your eyes. "Look at me," he hissed, and you obliged as he proceeded to fuck the life out of you. "So good to me." he praised.

"Max," you wailed as his cock pressed into your sweet spot.

"Is that good for you?" he bit his lip, his fingers digging into your skin so hard you were sure it would leave marks.

"Mhmmm," You agreed. "Maxxxxx."

"Yeah baby?"  the use of his little names for you only riled you on more and eventually he felt your walls squeeze around his cock as you came undone.

"I want you to cum in me," you begged, your eyes glossy and pleading as your final orgasm washed over you.

"Will you promise to me a good girl?" he asked you and you squirmed under his praise.

"I'm always a good girl," you breathed out. "Always good for you Maxie."

"Yeah," Maxwell moaned, and you felt his cock twitch inside of you. He pressed a sloppy kiss into your neck and pushed deep into you, biting his teeth into the skin of your jaw. With one final hard thrust he was spilling inside of you.

Maxwell steadied himself, his cock softening inside of you until eventually it slipped out. You moaned at the loss of the fullness and he shuddered, quickly tucking himself back into his pants and zipping himself up. It only took a few seconds for him to notice his cum leaking from your pussy. With shaky legs, he padded to the drawer under his desk, unlocking it and taking out some silk handkerchiefs. He opened your legs gently and began to clean you up with the utmost care and affection.

"How do you feel?" he whispered into the shell of your ear, discarding the handkerchief when he was finished. He helped you sit upright and pulled you onto his lap, smoothing out your hair.

"Tired," you whispered, nuzzling your face into his chest. He kissed your forehead and wrapped his arms around your practically naked body, his strong arms holding you still and steady.

"I get off in three hours, why don't you take a nap on my sofa and then we can go home together?" Maxwell suggested.

"Mmm," you smiled, closing your eyes. "Or I could just stay here. Like this? But oh- you have that meeting…" you sighed. You went to stand up but Maxwell's grip around you tightened.

"Darling, stay here," you cooed. "I can cancel the meeting. It is my company after all. Besides, I'd rather be here with you."

You felt yourself blush. "You know Maxie, I do love you. So much." 

"I know," Maxwell answered, his voice unrecognisably soft. "I love you too." He didn't say those three words often, but you knew that deep down he meant it. He loved you. "Oh, and thanks for the surprise."

[korra-the-red-lion]

Lonely.

I will forever be salty that LoT doesn’t let Sara explore her grief a bit more, it seems. Anyway, enjoy some angst with a happy ending!

---

Sara put down the make-up brush and stared at herself in the mirror. It wasn’t a lot, but she felt confident in what she did for herself. Lightly, she put on the finishes touches to her lips and was ready for the big event.

In just a few short hours she’d be marrying the love of her life.

But why did her heart feel so heavy? Shouldn’t she be overjoyed that she was marrying Ava? But it only took one quick glance to the photo sitting her in locket to remind her why she felt this way. Laurel and Oliver smiled up at her, their faces alive and happy. Sara picked up the locket, holding it gently in her hand. At least Oliver got to marry the life of his life, Laurel never even got that chance. Both men she loved were tragically ripped away from her, before her own life was as well.

Although Laurel told her it was the right decision, Sara couldn’t help but still feel guilty that she didn’t use the Loom of Fate to bring her back. Why did someone like her get so many chances at life yet her sister didn’t? It was a cruel thing, fate was. Sara would have gladly given one of her several returns to life in exchange for Laurel to be here on her wedding day.

And Oliver too, who would never see his daughter grow old. How was it fair that someone who gave so much and rarely asked for anything in return was not allowed this once in a lifetime opportunity. At least Mia had Felicity, who was one tough cookie. It just felt like some cosmic joke to her. Oliver wasn’t perfect, but he deserved to grow old with his wife and children.

Sara blew a frustrated breath through pursed lips. She needed to stop thinking about this. About them. Today was supposed to be about her happiness, her love. About her and Ava finally retiring from saving the universe and enjoying life. It wasn’t an easy decision for them to make, especially for her. Sara had been fighting since she was teenager. What would the domestic life feel like? Going for walks with having to watch your back? Talking about that silly thing the neighbours did with Ava? Sara honestly couldn’t even picture it in her mind.

There was a knock at her door, startling from her thoughts. Sara put on a brave face and called out, “Come in!”

Nyssa walked into the room with a smile adorning her face. Sara smiled back, but Nyssa was not fooled. She had known Sara for a very long time and knew when she was hiding her feelings. Nyssa closed the door softly before turning to face her former love.

“What is wrong, Beloved?”

Sara smiled softly at the familiar expression. “It’s nothing, really. Just got thinking.”

“Thinking about what?”

“How much I miss them,” she said, looking down at the locket again.

Nyssa nodded in understanding as she came to sit next to Sara. “I miss them as well. I cannot imagine how difficult this must be for you.”

Sara clutched the locket, holding it to her heart. “I wish they could be here to see this. I want to let them know that I only got this far because of their support. Especially Laurel’s…” the tears welled up in her eyes, but she refused to let them fall.

“Sara…” Nyssa reached for her hand, squeezing it in comfort. “They may not be here physically, but I know Oliver and your sister. They’re watching from wherever they are currently. They would be so happy for you, so happy that you found the love they wished for you. Do you understand that?”

“I do,” said Sara with a small voice, “but that doesn’t make me miss them any less.”

Nyssa hugged Sara tightly. All she could hope was that Sara could feel her emotions through the hug. That it was okay to grief those you’ve lost, you just cannot let it consume you. Sara hugged back just as tightly, wondering when the emptiness in her heart would finally feel a little more whole.

Another knock at the door broke the pair apart. Ray stuck his head into the room, his smile instantly dropping when he saw Sara. He wasted no time in walking across the floor and scooping the tiny assassin into a bear hug.

“I have no idea what’s upsetting you, Sara, but I’m not going to let it ruin your wedding day,” he said firmly.

“Ray…”

Ray put Sara onto the floor before getting to work straightening out her wedding dress. “Sara, I’ve known you for a very long time. Heck, I think you’re my oldest friend at this point. You were there for me when Nora and I tied the knot. We were there for each other through all the hardships that we’ve face. I would never let you do this alone.” Ray stepped back to make sure there wasn’t a single wrinkle left. With a satisfied nod, Ray placed a gentle hand on Sara’s shoulder.

“You deserve happiness and peace, Sara Lance,” said Ray with watery eyes. “I believe that more than anything else in the world.”

Sara swallowed thickly while blinking out tears. “Thank you…” She fanned at her laugh with a wet laugh. “Oh God, my make-up. Ava is going to freak out if I don’t get a move on things.”

“I believe I can help with that,” said Nyssa with a smirk. She held up the eye make-up with a fire in her eyes. “I am quite good with my hands, after all.”

Sara burst out into laughter while Ray looked pleasantly confused. Together, Ray and Nyssa got Sara ready to walk down the aisle.

XXX

Quentin looked like he was trying his hardest not to cry as he walked his daughter down the aisle. Sara squeezed his arm tightly as they did, trying to keep her raging emotions in check.

“I’m so happy for you, baby,” he said in a choked whisper.

“Thanks, dad.” Sara sniffled slightly. “I’m really happy too.”

He gave her a kiss on the cheek as he left her at the alter. He joined his wife in the front row. Sara took in the crowd. Jax and his wife were here with their kids. Thea and Roy were in the crowd chatting quietly to Dinah. Sara couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow when she noticed that Dinah had her pinkie finger linked with Laurel 2.0. That was unexpected. Barry and Iris were sitting next to Kara, Alex, Lena, and Kelly. Ray waved to her, his arm linked with a very happy looking Nora, who was also waving. Mona was seated next to Gary, who was already ugly crying. Nate was on Ray’s right side, and he was beaming up at Sara, Zari holding his free hand. Charlie was with her band, providing the music for the wedding. Amaya came from the past to also watch her former captain and friend tie the knot. She was seated next to the Hawks, which they had been hard to track down, but Kendra had been Sara’s first friend aboard the Waverider, and there was no way she was going to miss this for the world. Nyssa sat with Sin, who was looking so much older than Sara last remembered.

All her friends and family were here, and it was a wonderful sight to see.

Charlie looked up towards the doorway and motioned to her band to start playing the music. Sara’s heart was beating like crazy with anticipation as the doors swung open.

Ava walked out from behind the curtains. Her smile was wide and there were already tears in her eyes as she walked towards Sara. Her dress was nothing fancy, but that’s exactly what suited her best. Mick was walking her down the aisle. They had an unlikely friendship, but Ava had helped Mick with so many things in his life, he felt it only fair to return a favour. There were tears in his eyes as he helped her up the steps. He gave Sara a quick nod before clomping back down to take his seat next to Spooner, who was sitting with Astra and Behrad.

“Alright,” said Diggle with a clearing of his throat. “Sara and Ava both asked that this not be fancy. Sara said to me, ‘I already have enough drama in my life, I don’t need it at my wedding too,’ and I couldn’t agree more.”

This drew laughs from the crowd.

“So, Sara, do you have anything you want to say to Ava?” asked Diggle.

Sara nodded quickly. “Ava, I just want to say that you’ve made me the happiest girl in the world. You just get me, and that is so important. We’ve had our rough patches, but we always got through them together. You’ve been with me through thick and thin. I love you so much that it makes me lie awake at night thinking about it. I can’t wait to spend the rest of my life with you.” She smiled brightly, ignoring the tears that flowed freely down her face now.

“Ava, do you have anything you want to say to Sara?”

“Yes.” Ava took a deep shaky breath. Sara could feel the tremors in her hands as she spoke. “I hated you the first time I saw you.” Everyone laughed at that, including Sara and Ava. “But you slowly broke down my walls and taught me how to really live. If it wasn’t for you, I probably would still be working for Rip, without ever realizing the person I could have been. You helped me because the best version of me, because that’s what’s being a person is all about. Helping each other grow. I hope that we can continue to do just that, because you’ll be spending every moment with me, and I can’t wait.”

Diggle smiled at the two of them before saying. “Okay, well, go ahead then!”

Sara dipped Ava and gave her the most passionate kiss she could muster. It would take some time, but she was hopeful that Ava would help her fill the hole in her heart. She already had, in some way. Because Sara knew that this right here meant that she was no longer lonely. She would always grieve the death of her Laurel, her wonderful and beautiful sister, and her best friend in Oliver. But she also knew that Ava would always be there for her, every step of the way.

And she was ready to see where that path led.

[noirshadow]

New Beginnings - Ch. 1

I couldn't get this idea out my head and just had to write it. Let me know what you think!

Summary: It was supposed to be a fresh start for Mal and Alina. A chance to try to mend their relationship and new beginnings in a new town. And then she meets him.

A Darklina Neighbors Alternate AU. 🌘

AO3 link

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The new house was supposed to make things better. Alina looked out the window as she washed the dishes, giving a big sigh. It was nice that the new house was bigger, but it almost felt like it had forced the distance between her and Mal even wider. There were more places to hide, easier opportunities to avoid each other.

This was only their second year of marriage but it was doomed from the start. Yes, they were childhood friends but when Mal had finally asked Alina out in their third year of college, the old Mal she knew was already barely there. There were still glimpses of his old self, but they were few and far between. She cherished those in her mind, clinging onto those moments so that she couldn’t forget. With those memories on a pedestal in her mind, Alina had deluded and convinced herself into thinking this could work long term. Mal had been obsessed with his career and status and proving a point to his parents, who didn’t think they could ever do better for themselves and who in turn, ingrained this self-deprecation into their son.

After several years of hardly speaking to each other, Alina had approached Mal with an ultimatum - something had to change. His initial reaction was of shock. A total blindside, from his point of view. He was barely home, always at work or some leadership seminar or other, but when he was home, Alina always played dutiful wife. It was probably partially her fault that he didn’t think anything was wrong. She was also always radiant and charming when she needed to be, like at every work function as she was led around the room meeting all his bosses and senior management of the firm. Unsurprisingly, as was standard of their relationship, he misunderstood the root cause of the issues and decided that a new home and a new environment would be the solve.

—-

The neighbourhood was very nice but it was so manicured. It had nothing of the chaos and untidy charm of Os Alta. All the houses looked relatively similar and it was far from the action of the city centre where they lived before. This was a cozy street where everyone knew each other, especially where their new home was, where the street ended in a cul de sac. Coming from the city, Alina was having a small culture shock. There, you were just a tiny part of the faceless masses and no one gave anyone else a second glance.

On the second day after moving in, the doorbell rang. “Are we expecting anyone?” Mal said to her as he looked up from the box of books he was sorting through. Alina shook her head and went to the door.

“HI!! I am your new neighbor and number 1118 across the street. I’m Genya! I live there with my husband, David and two boys. Sorry, I would have stopped by yesterday but the day flew by. I just wanted to welcome you to the neighbourhood.” Genya smiled eagerly. A few years older than Alina, she had stunning vermillion hair and amber eyes. She was still more pretty than Alina ever thought she herself could look, but it was slightly faded on the edges as if the years and the kids had blurred her beauty a bit. Nevertheless, Alina instantly took a liking to her and found her charm, radiating and her positivity completely contagious. “Hi, I’m Alina and I just moved here from Os Alta with my husband Mal. He’s just inside - sorry, we are still unpacking”, she says.

“Don’t be silly! You must be exhausted. Here is my famous lasagna casserole I made as I’m sure you have had no time to cook yet. When you get settled, we must have a glass of wine! Oh, it’s also perfect timing that you moved in this weekend because there is a block party this Saturday in the court and you must come meet all the neighbours. Everyone is great and we are all so excited for you all to move in!” Genya’s enthusiasm spread to Alina like a soothing spoonful of honey on a sore throat. Despite Alina being much quieter and less vivacious, she immediately liked the other woman and felt at ease with her. With Genya’s exuberance rubbing off on her, she said “That sounds great, see you then!” in a tone much more cheerful than she felt.

——

On Saturday morning, Alina woke up early to make her own famous recipe- peanut butter blondies - that was passed down by her foster mom, Ana Kuya. She didn’t feel particularly nervous about meeting her neighbours but there was still a little gnawing feeling pulling at her insides. Perhaps it was the thought of having to put on a face that everything was fine or more realistically, a quiet voice from deep down pointed out, that it was having to show up with Mal and be associated as his wife and be paired with him.

At around 11, she could hear a commotion outside as tables were being set up and kids were already laughing and running around. Mal came out from his study in his classic weekend uniform of a crisp linen shirt with chino shorts. Alina had on a floral strappy sundress with her hair pulled into a low messy knot at the back of her head. “Ready to go, hun?”, Mal asked. Alina nodded blankly, “can you please grab that other tray to bring it out”.

Although it was already near the close of summer, the air was still warm with a slight breeze. The sun was bright and set a golden filter on the entire street. The cul-de-sac was transformed with three large tables in the centre in an almost wide u-shape. The left two were loaded with all sorts of nice food and the far right table had the drinks and a large speaker with some lively music playing. All the kids were already playing in front of it, zooming around on bikes and throwing balls around. Alina spotted a couple ginger boys run past with water guns and knew those must be Genya’s. She looked toward the table and saw the bright redheaded matron arranging some sandwiches and Alina walked over, with Mal trailing behind.

“Hi Genya. This is Mal, my husband.” The cheerful neighbor turned around and immediately broke into a wide grin. “Ah, so great to meet you. Let me introduce you to my husband.” She shouted loudly to a gentle looking man who was taking apart and trying to fix a remote control car for a little boy just on the edge of the driveway.

“DAVID, come say hi to Alina and Mal!” David looked up sheepishly pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. He waved and shouted, “hello, - I’m just about to access the capacitor mechanism here so I’ll come over shortly!” Genya turned back toward the couple and rolled her eyes. “Sorry, he is an engineer and will jump at any chance to tinker with any mechanical devices. Even if it’s a kid’s toy. I’ll bring him over in a second but go ahead and help yourself to some food.” She said this with a tinge of annoyance to her voice but you could hear the love seeping out from the corner of it. Detecting it, Alina was almost jealous.

The next couple hours passed quickly and pleasantly. They chatted with all the neighbours in the immediate cul-de-sac and met most of the ones further along the street. Although it was so different to Os Alta, there was a cozy and inviting atmosphere of the suburbs. It put one at ease that there was kindness from strangers and that people cared. Maybe Alina could learn to love it here and maybe things could be different.

Mal, for one, seemed to have found himself a little group of like-minded husbands and had already gone off to have beer with two of them. Genya was very busy as one of the main organisers but still somehow managed to always be the radiant center of things. She would come check on Alina here and there but after Mal went off, Alina found herself standing alone on the edge of the court, watching the action within.

After several minutes of surveying the scene from the sidelines, she was about to go back inside for a second when she saw him. He was at the far end of the court looking straight at her. It was as if the sea had parted and it was a tunnel connecting only her and him. The din of the other neighbors and the rowdy kids completely melted away. Alina had thought she felt eyes on her earlier in the afternoon but had not pinpointed it until this moment of calm.

The dark and mysterious man across the way from her was one of the most handsome men Alina had ever seen and when she returned his look, the hair on her arms stood straight up. Not in a traditional way, per se, but there was something about his face and how he carried himself that almost left her breathless. Although it was a relatively warm day, he had on a black t-shirt and black jeans. His dark hair was on the long side and fell slightly over his face. Just then, he lifted one hand and flipped his hair back without his eyes once leaving her face. Alina felt a zap of high voltage in her body that she had never felt before. She felt a long lost feeling awake within her - one that was so familiar but had been dormant for years - where she was like a giddy schoolgirl. Chemicals reacting within her, core going molten, and stomach doing butterfly flips as if the popular boy had noticed her.

Without looking away and before Alina knew what she was doing, she started walking past the tables toward him. She quickly scanned the area for Mal and spied him chatting around some planter boxes of 1114 with his new friends. He was joking and genuinely laughing, which she hadn’t personally experienced in months. Turning back, she focused on her task at hand she passed through the slew of tables, where it suddenly was much quieter. All the kids were running in the foreground where all the snacks and toys were. Here, there were only a few scattered adults talking quietly. As she walked by them, she broke eye contact to smile lightly at the man in 1109 who said hello to her. They had met earlier but she had already forgotten his name. Finally. After what felt like ages, Alina arrived in front of him. This breathtaking figure was standing on the edge of the curb, hands in pockets, and with her standing on the street, she seemed even more diminutive as he towered over her like a great black shadow.

“Hey,” he said, voice dulcet but with a coolness that sent a shiver right down her spine. His voice was low and deliciously rich. “You just moved into 1115, right? I’m Aleksander - I live in 1121, just here-” he gestured behind him to a much more modern and austere looking build then the rest of the neighborhood and without any of the kid accoutrement that littered the front yard of many of their neighbors.

“I’m Alina,” she said softly practically falling completely into the dark pools of black ink that were his eyes. “We just moved here from Os Alta.”

“Welcome to the neighborhood," Aleksander said, sweeping his arm to the court out like a game show assistant showcasing the prize. "As you can see, we are a friendly, tight-knit bunch. Do let me know if there is anything I can do to help welcome you in. I surmise Genya will have already taken care of everything, but just in case…” He trailed off. As if he held back from saying what he wanted to say. Aleksander's voice was slow and deliberate as if every word was calculated and there was no wastage. He looked at her and for a second, Alina almost saw a slight spark of hunger in his eyes but surely she must have imagined it. She had never seen or met him before. She shook it off and she smiled brightly and said “Thank you. Everyone seems lovely and I look forward to getting to know everyone.” She stared up into his eyes, searching for a response. Alina was never usually direct when meeting a stranger, but something inside her had awoken when she first saw him. And in this short and seemingly mundane conversation, it was as if a different conversation happened just between their gaze. In this moment, somehow emboldened, she blurted, “I would love to get a drink sometime and get to know you whenever you’re free.” She blushed and looked away, cheeks burning. She was nearly 30, how could she still feel like a young girl approaching her crush?

“I would like that very much.” Aleksander had not once taken his eyes off of her. Even now, it looked like he was straining, jaw firmly set - compelling every muscle in his body to behave. “For the moment, I have to attend to some matters that I could not reschedule. Enjoy the rest of the party. It was a pleasure to meet you.” Aleksander gave one last long look into her eyes, before quickly turning up the driveway back to his house. As she stared at the smooth wooden door, Alina stood there for a few seconds completely shaken at what had just passed and at the unfamiliar feelings coursing through her. She hadn’t felt this kind of electricity in years. It took Genya tapping her on the arm to bring her out of her daze. “I see you met Aleksander. He mostly keeps to himself but he’s nice enough. Shame he lives in that big house all alone. Come on back, we are about to cut the cake.” Genya turned and started walking back to the tables yelling for the kids to assemble by the tables.

Alina took one last look at the house and thought she saw a curtain move and a dark shadow. What was she even doing? She was married. This will never do. Shaking herself, she turned and walked back the group.

~~~~~~~~~~~

So sorry about the shit spacing. Tumblr is not being my friend today!

[thiswasinevitableid]

A New Era of Gods and Monsters (Indruck)

Prompt for the 21st was: Monster Movie. Behold my old hollywood AU, featuring a title from the Bride of Frankenstein and a universe in which Transphobia doesn’t exist by the Hayes Code does. It is NSFW

February 20th, 1935.

Tinsel Town is abuzz with news that promising young director Joseph Stern is starting work on a new horror picture. The latest announcements from Kepler Studios state that it will rival the director's previous smash monster chiller “Nightmare Woods.” No news as of yet as to who will star, and who may be donning greasepaint and false fangs to play the creature. Only time will tell, but we look forward to whatever terrifying delights he has in store. Assuming, of course, that he does not run afoul of the censors. 

“Homoeroticism!” Stern tosses the warning from the Hayes office onto his desk, “that's what they sent me a warning about Ned! There wasn't even any in the picture.” 

“You know how these modesty police are, dear boy; they see depravity where there is none yet are so out of touch they do not recognize the very things they're afraid of when they are present. Now that you’ve been scolded, how do you wish to proceed?”

“In whatever way won’t get me fired. There's a fine line between the kind of censor uproar that drives publicity and the kind that the studio heads think is too risky.”

“As your producer, I support you entirely in whatever you choose. And I'm happy to apply my considerable eloquence to soothing the concerns of those who sign our paychecks.”

Stern flops down in his desk chair, staring at the almost complete script in a tidy stack. 

“If we’re going to gamble, the more big names I can get the better. I think it’s time to call in my favor from Amnesty Pictures. After that, well; if they’re going to complain about homoeroticism, we may as well give them something to really complain about.” 

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

A month later, Stern sits at a large table in the studio meeting room, the bulk of his cast already thumbing through their scripts and chatting quietly to one another. Some of them, such as Aubrey Little and Moira Redfeld, are contract players to Kepler, ones he snatched up for this picture before anyone could interfere. There are also two on loan from Amnesty,  a trade off for the time he and Ned worked their Hollywood contacts to help Mama, the studio head, raise money to fund the film that put the studio on the map. 

His own relationship with Mama’s right hand man, Barclay, who acted as their go-between in those early days, may have helped his case. 

The first player on loan is Dani Coulice, who’ll play Aubrey's dear friend and confidant who accompanies her to the house of her mysterious uncle. Dani has an understated charm on screen and, judging by the eyes she’s making at Aubrey, the two women will be able to pull off the romantic subtext he needs them to with ease.

And then there’s Indrid Cold. His first appearance in The Smiling Man drew quick comparisons to Claude Raines, Bella Lugosi and, more importantly, to the great Lon Chaney. Not only does the actor design and apply his own character make-up, he embodies his monsters and murderers in a way that leaves the audience hiding beneath their covers for days.

Stern knew the moment he and Kirby began working on the script that no one but Indrid Cold could play the titular Dr. Nacht. Now all that's missing from the table is…

“Sorry I’m late Joe. We ran long shootin the sword fight.” A southern drawl and apologetic smile announce the entrance of his other leading man. A man who's trained for years under two mentors to follow in their footsteps as swashbucklers, knights, soldiers. The man who is often described as destined to save the day, regardless of the picture. 

When you wanted a monster, you got Indrid Cold. When you wanted a hero, you hired Duck Newton. 

Which is why Stern remains surprised that Duck took this role so readily. He wants him for it, thinks he’s just the man to balance Indrid's aloof, otherworldly demeanor. But this time, his character won’t emerge triumphant. 

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

Duck cannot fuck this up. It’s a goddamn miracle Joe offered it to him at all, given that he’s never done horror before, the studio not wanting to waste him on something so strange. There was a time when Duck would have steered clear of it too, but he trusts Joe, and the rest of the cast is strong. And the leading men in these pictures are never the heroes Duck is used to; they’re scientists, good men in over their heads, soldiers carrying the mental wounds of the war. They’re something new. 

The only thing that worries him is Indrid Cold. Amnesty Pictures is known for darker, more daring fare than most studios, and Indrid always seems to be in the mix. His reputation is one of eccentric artistry, something Duck has little patience for. 

It’s been alright so far, the first weeks mainly getting costume tests and memorizing lines, and Indrid is polite but aloof. When Duck mentions this to Dani, she takes her eyes of Aubrey long enough to shrug, “He’s up in his own head a lot, he doesn’t mean anything by it.”

Today they’re shooting the arrival of his character, Henry Harper, at the lonely country estate of Dr. Edward Nacht. The doctor is Eliza’s (played by Aubrey) uncle, and she’s traveling to stay with him along with her dearest friend, Lucy (played by Dani). Henry and Eliza are ostensibly betrothed, but the script makes only the barest mention of it, putting Duck opposite Indrid and Aubrey opposite Dani in most scenes. 

Joe’s instructions are to play Harper as a classic, bland, heroic lead for the first third of the film, and he gets himself into that headspace as they take their positions.

“Now remember, Aubrey, you’re the only one who’s even little used to your uncle's mannerisms, so you should be genuinely happy to see him. Right, here we go, action!”

The trio pretends to startle at the massive mansion door shutting on its own, turning in sync to look behind themselves. 

“That’s the trouble with these old houses; they have a mind of their own.”

Indrid stands at the top of the staircase, eyes uncovered for the first time since they met. Head held high, dark suit contrasting with his pale hair and sharp features, he grins at them as he descends the steps. It’s commanding and unnerving, the actor managing to convey something odd lurking beneath his veneer of gentility.

Aubrey runs to greet him, saying her lines as Dani and Duck trail behind her. He only ends up at the right mark thanks to watching Dani  from the corner of his eye; the rest of his attention is locked on Indrid. 

“This is my dear friend, Lucy Price.”

“Wonderful to meet you, any friend of my niece is welcome in these halls.” Indrid takes Dani’s and, kissing it with a friendly smile. 

“And this is Mr. Harper, my finance.” 

The smile widens as Indrid offers his hand, Duck taking it as the blocking dictates. There’s a beat where Indrid guides it upwards, as if intending to kiss it. Then he stops, shaking it instead. 

“A pleasure to have you here, Mr. Harper. It seems my niece shares her mother's fine taste in men.”

It takes him a moment to remember he’s not supposed to stand transfixed.

“I look forward to gettin to know you, doctor.”

Indrid steps back, still grinning, “if you three will follow me, I will show you to your rooms.”

“Cut!”

Christ, that was awful, he should have played that more confident, more in control-

“That was perfect Duck, just the right approach.”

“Oh, uh, thanks Joe.”

“I must admit I am pleasantly surprised.” Indrid adds. 

“How so?” Duck looks up at him.

“Simply that quipping whilst swinging a sword about does not always result in someone who can convey complex emotions on screen.”

“Now wait just a fuckin second-”

“I, ah, I was trying to be complimentary.” Indrid almost sounds like he means it. 

Duck crosses his arms, “Oh yeah? Then I guess I oughta say I’m impressed a fella who runs around covered in monster make-up most of the time can actually emote.”

“That was uncalled for.”

“You started it.”

“I did not mean to start anything!”

“Gentlemen, if we could continue with our shooting” Ned’s voice cuts in and Duck turns to see half the soundstage string to them. 

“Uh, right, sorry. Always get  little, uh, tense on the first day. Right, Indrid?”

Indrid rises n unimpressed eyebrow, “Where shall we take it from?”

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

It doesn't get better after that first day. 

Duck tries, he really does, and he can tell Indrid is doing the same. But the longer they work together, the more often they snap at one another in between scenes. 

“What were you two arguing bout now?” Aubrey says as they walk to the parking lot one evening. 

“We, uh, well he, uh, huh. I can't remember.”

She shakes her head, “Yep, that's what I thought.”

They’re  third of the way through the shoot, and it's going on ten at night, Joe trying to get as much done as he can before another picture borrows the set for two days.

Duck and Indrid are the only actors remaining, working on the scene where Henry, having agreed to help the doctor in his work, confronts him over the nature of the experiments. Once they finish this scene, they’re done, but Indrid keeps tripping over the word “indomitable.”  

When he fucks it up for the fourth time, Duck drops his head into his hands, “fuck’s sake, it ain’t that hard.”

“That’s rather rich coming from someone whose accent ought to have rendered him obsolete at the advent of talking pictures.” Indrid replies dryly. 

“Fuck you.” 

Indrid straightens up, ready with a retort, when Joe shouts for them to retake their places and try again. 

“You are meddlin with forces you don’t understand, doctor. Forces that are a mystery for a reason.”

“Do not underestimate me, Mr. Harper. Man is far more powerful, far more capable than scholars or priests would have you believe.” Indrid steps towards him, voice cool and smile detached, “we are no better than beasts if we cower in the shadows of ignorance, never daring to dream of what may be within our reach. Man was meant to question, Mr. Harper, meant to search and create. Man is indomitable.” His grin brightens not only from correctly pronouncing the word, but as part of the scene; because Duck is hesitating, won over for an instant by his speech. 

Duck shakes his head, “Dreams and questions are all well and good, but they all come to nothin if you barrel forward without a thought for the harm you might do. No, doctor, while we're here, I forbid you from such experiments. I won’t have Eliza in such danger, nor will I risk her losing her remaining family.”

Indrid cocks his head, amused, “You forbid it?” 

Duck tilts his head up to meet his eyes, “I do.”

His back slams into the laboratory counter, Indrids hands gripping it on either side of him.

“Perhaps I have been unclear, Henry. I am the master here, not you.” Slender fingers grip Duck’s lapels, tugging him nose to nose with Indrid, “you would do well to remember that.”

“Cut! Perfect, thank the lord, so we can finally get out of here.” Joe’s voice snaps Duck back into the soundstage, but Indrid hasn’t let go, is instead eyeing Duck’s face, tongue coming out to wet his lips. 

How long has Duck been breathing this hard? 

Indrid release his hold, smoothing down the front of Ducks jacket. He frowns, “You’re shaking. Are you ill?”

“N-nope.”

Unconvinced, Indrid touches his forehead, “You feel rather warm. Please tell me you are going home rather than out to paint the town?”

Duck wants to tell him to mind his own damn business. All that comes out is, “Yeah, might just straight sleep through til Sunday. You rest up too, y’hear?”

Indrid smiles, “I will do my best.”

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

“Catching up on some correspondence?”

Duck sets down his pen as Indrid sits at the lunch table across from him, “My sister moved back out to West Virginia not that long ago, and I promised I’d keep her up to date on everythin goin on out here.”

“Is she younger or older than you?”

“Younger by four years. You, uh, you got any siblin’s?”

“No. I was raised by my aunt and uncle, so I have a cousin instead. Here, I think I might have a picture.” The taller man pulls out a notebook, flipping through it, “ah, there he is.”

“Christ, if I couldn’t see the smudge up there, I’d think that was a fuckin photo.”

“Thank you.” Indrid dips his head, tucking the notebook back into his jacket pocket, “I mostly keep that on me in case I am struck by a new creature design, but it has other uses.”

“Where’s your family from?”

“Germany, originally, then the Salinas valley.”

“Told it’s real beautiful up there.”

“It has its moments, fewer now that they’ve found oil.”

“What’s your favorite?”

Indrid tells him, talks about the nearby mountains and traveling down to the coast, about hitchhiking his way to Los Angeles because he felt foolish asking for the money for a bus ticket when most of the family thought his journey was pointless.

“Sure proved them wrong.” Duck nudges his ankle playfully under the table. 

“I suppose.”

After that conversation, Duck likes his days on set even better. The chair reading “Indrid Cold'' is now next to his more often than not, the two of them running lines or talking about gardens and art between takes. They bring in a black cat--meant to be the doctor’s pet-- for several days of shooting, and Indrid laughs whenever Duck picks it up and coos over it, smile fading to a gentle, shy expression when he catches Duck looking. 

And when Joe instructs them to brush hands, or let their gaze linger too long on each other during scenes, Duck hopes they’ll have to do take after take. 

Today the set is full of excitement, as it’s the first time Indrid will appear in his full monster make-up; he’s shot two scenes in shadows, hinting at the horror of it as he takes innocent life on the moors. Now, Duck will enter the laboratory and see first hand the results of the doctor’s experiments. 

“Action!”

Duck steps into the darkened room, equipment flashing and test-tubes billowing smoke. 

“Doctor, there’s been another death in the village, and you’re the police are asking for your help. They say it’s like nothin they ever seen before.”

Heavy footfalls and the scrape of nails on metal signal Indrid’s approach, but he’s not to turn until the actor speaks. 

“Doctor, can you hear me?” He looks around, worried, then calls hesitantly, “Edward?”

“Hello, Henry.”

He turns and yells in fright, hand flying to cover his mouth. Where there once was an elegant, odd figure, now a massive nightmare looms out of the darkness. Indrid’s mouth stretches wide, curve fangs protruding from either corner, face coated in bloodied, feathered scales, and claws reaching for Duck. 

“Edward what” he staggers backward,s “what in god's name have you done?”

“What I set out to do, my dear Henry. Can you not see that?” Indrid giggles with the hysteria of a man consumed by bitter disappointment, “perhaps you should come closer.”

“Stay back, I’m warnin you-”

Indrid lunges, snarling, and Duck throws himself out of the way, hitting first the edge of something sharp and then the ground

“Fuck!” 

“Cut!”

“Oh dear, are you hurt? Here, let me help-”

Duck holds up a hand, gritting his teeth, “You stay right where you are. Fuck, christ,” the hand gripping his leg comes away spotted with blood, “what the fuck, that wasn’t in the blockin!”

“Joseph said he trusted me to improvise my movements, to maximize the tension.”

“You gotta fuckin warn me about shit like that, all my movement is backwards, meanin I can’t see where I’m goin.”

“I assumed a man who made his living fighting knew how to use his peripheral vision.”

“How bad is it?” Dewey, one of the camera men, helps Duck up as Stern approaches them. 

“Give there’s  a bloodstain on our set, enough to send him over to the medical office. I'm calling it for the night . I’ll see you both tomorrow.” Joe runs a hand through his hair, levels them both with a warning look before turning back to dismiss the crew. 

It’s not all that bad once he’s out of the torn pants and gets it cleaned off. When he gets back to the dressing room to retrieve his coat and hat, there’s a large black case, like  fisherman's tackle box. It’s what Indrid calls his toolkit, full of the tools and tricks he uses to turn himself into a monster. He once called it his most prized possession. 

Duck switches off the light, has the door halfway shut before he stops. Groaning in frustration at his own decency, he turns and grabs the box from the floor. 

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

“This had better be important” Indrid calls through the apartment door, “I must go back out for something and do not have time to waste.”

“Wouldn’t happen to be goin out for your toolkit?” Duck says dryly. 

The door flies open, revealing Indrid in a black dressing gown, face a bit pink, no doubt from scrubbing off all his monster make-up. 

“Yes.” He snatches the box away by it’s handle, hurrying over to the table and leaving Duck in the doorway, “you didn’t touch anything did you? Or show it to anyone else?” His head whips over his shoulder, red glasses slipping down his nose to reveal a hard, suspicious glare. 

“No, I didn’t touch a damn thing.” Duck steps over the threshold, shutting the door and tossing his hat onto the couch, “and you're welcome.”

Indrid inhales deeply, “I, I apologize. The tricks I developed, my techniques, my materials, practically all of it is in this box. If someone else were to get  hold of it, replicate my effects, my career would be over.”

“What are you talkin about?”

The taller man sighs, turning his back and heading into his bedroom, “I do not expect you to understand.”

Duck is ready to tear his hair out, stalks into the bedroom after him, “Fuck’s sake Indrid, do you think you’re the only fella here with the brains to understand shit?”

“That is not what I meant and you know it.”

“No, I really don’t. What do you want from me, Indrid? Most days you’re palin’ round with me, then you act like you think I’m some sheltered idiot who’s had everything handed to him.”

“Because you have” Indrids hands could be conducting  symphony for how much they move s he continues, “you had mentors, people who told you from a young age that you had a place in this business, who carved out roles for you and handed down their skills, their legacies. I had nothing, I had to make my way based on skill and luck alone.”

“Were the fuck do you get off assumin that sort thing bout me? At lest you got some fuckin say in the way your career went. Minerva had it all planned out for me, hell, at the start I fought hard to do somethin other than those hero parts.”

The anger on Indrid’s face flickers, “Why did you stop?”

 “Because I didn’t wanna end up with nothin! As you keep pointin out” he steps towards Indrid, jabbing a finger into his chest, “my kind are a dime a dozen in this town.”

“Which means you can get any part you choose! You are the kind of man everyone loves. God help me if horror ever falls from favor, I will be back in dust of the farmland in an instant.” 

Duck growls at the sorry ploy for sympathy, “Bullshit, you’re better on camera than anyone in this town.”

“That doesn’t matter! For goodness sake, Duck look at me!” He gestures wildly at his face, “without my monsters, without horror, I'm nothing. Amnesty might try to help me, but they’d soon find that unless they can be terrified of me, audiences have no use for Indrid Cold.” Resignation tinges his voice, and it kicks Duck’s anger out from under him. 

“Indrid, that ain’t true-”

“-No, it is very true”

“-will you let me fuckin finish?” Duck reaches for him, not certain what he means to do.

“I have no desire to-” Indrid moves his arm to push Duck’s away, and puts too much force behind it, losing his footing on the hardwood floor and falling backwards onto the bed. In attempting to recover his balance, one leg kicks out, knocking Duck forward. He catches himself with one knee on the mattress and his hands on either side of Indrid, pulling abruptly down on the dressing gown. When it opens, they both go still. 

“You, uh, why ain't you wearin anythin under this?”

“I was not aware I need to follow a dress code in my own blasted house.” Indrid manages through grit teeth, face turned resolutely away from Duck. He follows the angle of his jaw down the line of his neck, the noticeable points of collarbone, ribs, and hips beneath tan, sun-hungry skin making him think of fine china or rare plants, the kind you cultivate for years in hopes of seeing something no one else could ever dream of. 

“Would you kindly stop staring?” Indrid murmurs.

“Why?” Duck drags his gaze away from his body just as Indrid levels him with an exhausted frown.

“Fine, go ahead and get your fill so you can--in excruciating detail--tell anyone who is interested that I look just as strange without clothes as I do in them.”

“Is that really what you think I’m doin?”

“I have a hard time believing there could be...another..” He trails off s Duck leans down, cupping his cheek and bringing his other leg up to straddle him. 

“You sure about that belief?” He bumps their noses together. 

“I'm starting to have my doubts.” 

Duck snickers, carefully bringing their lips together. Indrid hums, wrapping his arms round Duck and running his hands along his back up into his hair. He’s kissed plenty of times, on and off screen, but Indrid is earnest and hesitant all at once, as if Duck is giving him a gift he’s not sure he deserves. He’s also wonderfully responsive, twitching and arching whenever Duck touches him, licking and nipping at his lips, begging to be let inside. Duck opens them, sighs when Indrid teases their tongues together. 

When he sits up, Indrids hands draw across his bare chest, concerned. 

“Don’t worry, darlin , I ain’t goin far.” He slides off the bed, sinking to his knees between Indrid’s legs s he pulls off his jacket, “Just seems to me you need someone to show just how fuckin handsome you are.”

“Are you oh-so-graciously volunteering?” Indrid’s smile is plain in his voice. 

He pushes up his sleeves, “Yep.”

Indrid’s cock is soft when he wraps his fingers around it, stroking up gradually to rub the head with his thumb. Licking along the underside turns Indrid’s so “ohs” into a full-throated moan. 

“That’s more like it, darlin.” Duck kisses up and down the shaft , slipping a hand lower to gently toy with his balls, “get hard for me.”

“Wh-what” Indrid gulps down a breath, “what makes you think you are in charge here?”

In lieu of an answer, he takes the head of is cock into his mouth, sucking hard, not letting up until pre-cum seeps along his tongue. Indrid’s hands cling to the edge of the bed, the room filling with high gasps and the odd squeak when Duck zig-zags his nails along his inner thigh. 

He pulls off, wiping away the string of spit trailing from his lips. Laps intermittently at his slit as he speaks, hoping his voice is coming across husky rather than desperate, “Well, sugar, what do you say? Gonna let me call the shots?”

“I s-say” One hand wavers in the air, about to stroke his hair, and Duck dips to the side, bumping his head into his palm in tacit permission. 

“I say a man on his, his knees giving orders is presumptuous.”

“Ah!Fuck” Duck groans as Indrid tugs his hair, forcing him to sit up straight.

“And I’d say his mouth could be put to an even better use.”

Duck scrambles onto the bed, kissing Indrid furiously as soon as he reaches him, the pale-haired man rolling them over and tangling them both in the top blanket with their feet still hanging off the bed. 

“Did I say you could stop paying attention to my cock? OOhhnnnn, yes, yes” he hooks a leg over Ducks thigh, pumping into the shorter man’s fist, “perfect, god, everything about you is, is just right.”

“I ain’t the only one.” Duck aims for his lips, ends up kissing his cheek, when he buries his face into his neck with a whine.

“It’s true. You think I go to my knees for any old fella?”

“Mphhm” Indrid’s glasses dig into his shoulder.

“You think I’d be doin this” he speeds up his hand, “if that face of yours didn’t make me wanna do things in front of those cameras that’d make the devil blush.”

“Mmhpmm”  Indrid clings to him like lichen yet refuses to look up. 

Duck stills his hand, “I ain’t startin up again unless you answer me, sugar.”

Indrid raises his head halfway, five o’clock shadow pricking Duck’s cheek.

“Duck Newton, I do believe you are telling the truth. You think I am handsome.” Shyness lurks just beneath the teasing, so Duck tenderly brushes his fingers along Indrid’s face.

“That I do.”

He raises up enough to bring them nose to nose, “And I think you put all other matinee idols to shame with only your smile.”

“Indrid.” It’s his turn to blush, and he only grows redder when Indrid guides his hand off his cock and to his lips to kiss it. 

“I have an idea. As much as these” he releases his hand to snap his suspenders, “flatter that broad chest of yours, they and your pants need to come off.”

As Duck exiles his clothes and shoes to the floor, Indrid lays with his head on a pillow, steadily stroking his cock. Staring at that sight adds a good minute to his undressing, but Duck doesn’t give a damn. 

When he goes to straddle Indrid’s hips, the other man shakes his head, “Nono, up here.” He pats the pillow on either side of his head. 

“Shit yeah, been wanting to fuck that stunnin face for weeks.”

Indrid’s face is beet-colored by the time Duck brackets it with his knees. 

“S-so have eye”

“Aw, sugar, you gettin tongue tiIIIIedfuck.” His palms thwack into the wall as Indrid circles it along his folds. 

“What was that about tongues?” His smirk is just visible between Duck’s thighs. 

“That if you don’t keep usin yours like that, you’re gonna see a grown man cry with need.”

“We cannot have that.’

“FUuuuuck, fuck.” He wiggles his hips to help Indrid get the right angle, unsure if he can ask for more pressure.

“You, you can put more weight down if you need.” 

He grinds down, moaning when Indrid’s lips part further to give his tongue more room to work. The moan is echoed below him, muffled though it may be, as one of Indrid’s hands disappears from view. A moment later, he bucks, gasping and laving his tongue along Duck’s dick. 

“Shit, right there, keep goin right there.”

Indrid curves and flicks his tongue along the sensitive skin, hums of pleasure mingling with the messy sound of his hand flying up and down his cock. When he closes his lips around his dick Duck yelps, hunches forward to rest his head on the wall as he sucks him off, pressure spiking deliciously whenever he moans or strokes himself harder. Indrid cums with a whimper, sticky hands landing on Duck’s ass to urge him on as he ruts into his mouth.

“That’s it sugar, fuck, you’re amazin, feels so fuckin good oh fuck, fuck, Indrid, fuckin christ.” He rolls his hips harder and faster until the friction makes the orgasm burst through him. He just manages to lift himself off and collapse on the bed rather than Indrid's neck. 

“Did, do you hear a, uh, a crack?”

Red glasses, a split across the right lens, appear in front of him. 

“Aw fuck” he giggles, “didn’t know I was goin that hard. Lemme buy you a new pair?”

“I have several spares, on account of my own occasionally absent mindedness” Indrid is up on his side, grinning down at him, face still shiny with slick, “and I am taking that as a testament to my skill. Perhaps I should wear them with pride to the set tomorrow.”

“Please don’t” Duck laughs harder, “fuck, can you imagine the look on Joe’s face”

Indrid is laughing too now, “They are not part of my costume, it would not affect the shoot. Save the part where the reminder of how you looked just now, flushed and ecstatic above me, would make it rather hard to focus.”

Duck shifts onto his side, nestling up against him, “you’re a real sweet talker, you know that?”

“You have that effect on me.” He feels him inhale more deeply, fingers toying with Duck’s hair, “would, ah, would you like to spend the night? I believe you are not needed tomorrow, and I am only needed in the evening.”

“I’d love to” Duck nudges him onto his back to better cuddle across his chest, “got no interest in sleepin alone any time soon.”

“Do, ah, do you mean you wish to, ah, to-”

“Yeah, I do. I wanna see what it’s like to have the finest man in the city on my arm. Assumin he wants the same thing.”

“You do not think I am snobbish and strange?”

“Not anymore than you think I’m spoiled and had it easy.”

Indrid kisses the top of his head, “Then I think this could be the start of something wonderful.”

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

Stern looks up from the script as his two leading men walk onto the set, arms linked and whispering to one another, each smiling wider than Laurel Canyon. He turns back to his notes. 

“About fucking time.”

[dontenchantme]

catastrophe - part two

Rated T, itaru x izumi.

she had a feeling this whole "pretend to be in a relationship" thing wasn't going to end well.

part one

fics masterlist

Izumi was nervous. She smoothed down the fabric of the dress she wore and patted her hair, hoping that her hairstyle wouldn’t fall apart halfway through the dinner.

“LOL Director, you need to stop freaking out.” Itaru prodded his screen a few more times before he slipped his phone in his pocket, reaching for her. “C’mon. It’ll be over soon.”

She squeaked as he slid his arm across her shoulders, tugging her closer to him. The scent of his cologne wafted all around her and she couldn’t help but inhale – she had no idea what brand of cologne he used,  but it sure smelled good. “I still don’t understand why you need me to pretend to be your girlfriend or something,” she said, though she didn’t try to shake his arm off. “Can’t you just lie and say you’re already seeing someone?”

“I did, but I think they’ll only be convinced when they actually see it for themselves.” Itaru had flagged down a taxi, and now the two of them clambered into the car, Izumi painfully conscious of how small their space was. Since when were taxis this cramped?

“They’re that stubborn?” she asked, and Itaru shrugged, his fingers reaching for his phone. But then he paused and glanced at her, then he shifted his hand away.

He told the driver the address and Izumi self-consciously smoothed down her hair again. When Itaru told her the location of his company dinner, she had almost spat out her drink. Maybe it shouldn’t be surprising since his company was so prestigious – she guessed such a workplace would be more than willing to splurge on their employees – but still.

His company dinner was held at a fancy restaurant that, if not for Itaru’s request, she never would have dreamed of setting foot in. The night before she had looked at the menu and she noticed with trepidation that they didn’t list any prices. And, based on a few unfortunate past experiences, she was pretty sure that meant the food would be disturbingly expensive.

“Aren’t you going to play your game?” Itaru still had yet to take out his phone. She was half-expecting him to just lean into his seat and ignore her for the rest of the ride.

“Hmm.” He considered, and she found herself watching him, studying his profile as the dim evening light streamed through the car window. He was wearing one of his office suits, and while it wasn’t the first time she had seen him dressed up, it was different when they were attending a dinner and she was going as his partner, pretend date or not. “Since you were kind enough to help me out, I guess I shouldn’t ignore you on the way there…”

She rolled her eyes. “Such generosity,” she answered, but a tiny part of her was grateful that he decided not to ditch her. Her stomach was churning and she could remember with vivid clarity the looks of irritation, almost anger, that Itaru’s colleagues had given her before.

In hindsight, maybe she should have put her foot down and rejected his idea. It probably would have been less painful to learn Korean on her own. “What, you think I’m stingy?” he asked. His monotone delivery made it difficult to tell if he was genuinely offended or not. “You helped me get that SSR card I was trying to pull. I know when to repay my debts.”

She would never be able to understand his priorities. “Okay, sure,” she sighed, glancing out of the window. Her fingers gripped the material of her dress, an attempt to stop herself from biting her nails. A few moments later, she felt something touch her and she turned to see Itaru’s hand sliding over hers. He was pleasantly warm, and she felt her face flush.

“Itaru!” Her voice came out squeaky, and he shot her a look, his pretty pink eyes narrowing slightly. She didn’t know if she should shake him off – his touch did feel nice, and she was admittedly grateful for the distraction.

“You look sick.” His straightforward observation flustered her – was she that obvious? “Scared?” And for a moment she wondered if it was too late to back out, but he looked like he was legitimately concerned and anyway she didn’t want to stop the car now, so she just sighed again and flipped her hand over, allowing his fingers to slip between hers.

“A little,” she confessed. “I mean…I don’t know what to expect, I guess. I’ve never been in a situation like this. And you know I’m no good at acting! I’ll give everything away!” she fretted.

“Then maybe you should stop thinking that you’re acting,” he suggested. She stared at him, her lips parting in surprise, but his expression was perfectly serious.

“We’re not dating though,” she finally said after a long, drawn-out pause.

“We could be,” he countered, and she had to wonder if he truly expected her to nod and go along with his suggestion. It was bad enough that she agreed to attend this dinner. This was – she wasn't even sure how to describe it. “If I had to date someone, Director, I wouldn’t mind being with you.”

“You make it sound like I’m some kind of last resort…” She didn’t want to address what he said. Maybe she was reading too much into his words.

“I didn’t say that.” He laughed – it was a quiet sound, but she was embarrassed still, and she did her best to avoid looking at him. “Anyway, no matter how crappy you feel later, think about the fact that I’m with you. We can suffer through this together.”

“Way to make me feel better, Itaru.” But she was somewhat entertained by his grin and she squeezed his hand, silently expressing her thanks. His grin softened into a smile and for a moment, she was entranced by his gaze – then she quickly turned away, looking out of the window again. She wondered if they were going to reach their destination soon.

They continued to sit in silence, though to her surprise Itaru didn’t take his phone out, not even once. She wasn’t aware of how much time passed before their driver finally pulled up outside the restaurant. They climbed out of the car, and she stared at the entrance of the building – two women were being escorted inside, and when she looked at the outfits they wore she suddenly thought that she might be underdressed for the occasion.

This was the nicest dress she owned, and she kept it mostly because it had pockets, but she knew it wasn’t an elegant cocktail dress or anything – it was just slightly more formal than her typical day-to-day clothes. But she hadn’t wanted to splurge on a dress she’d only wear once, especially not for something as frivolous as a pretend date. Still. She couldn’t help but think that maybe she ought to have invested a little. She felt immensely out of place.

A part of her mind grumbled about how unfair it was that men could just wear a suit and look perfectly presentable while women were faced with a whole myriad of options that made it so hard to decide what was appropriate. “Quit zoning out. Let’s get this over and done with,” Itaru said, and before she knew it he had linked his arm through hers and he was pulling her to the entrance, ignoring her mumbled protests as she dragged her feet behind him.

It was a surreal experience. The host identified them and quickly showed them the way to their seats, and the moment they entered the function room she swore everyone’s heads turned to stare at them – okay, so probably not everyone, but she could feel the weight of numerous eyes upon her, and it made her extremely uncomfortable.

Itaru had switched into his public persona – they sat at their assigned table, and she just watched in awe as he smiled and laughed, chatting with the colleagues who approached him to say hello. Quite a few of them were women, she noticed, and they eyed her with expressions that ranged from mild curiosity to outright annoyance. She tried not to look at any of them, hoping that she wouldn't draw too much attention to herself.

Though she supposed that coming here with Itaru was already attention-grabbing enough in itself. It was so strange to see Itaru behaving like an absolute charmer. She was too used to him walking around the dorm in his old jacket and worn sweatpants, his bangs tied up so they’d stay out of his eyes. Sometimes she forgot he had a life outside of the dorm.

“So, Itaru! Who’s this with you? Your sister?” One of the women finally asked the dreaded question, and she stiffened, trying to keep a smile plastered on her face. She hoped he’d just go along with that idea. Siblings were fine, right? She was Itaru’s little sister, and she came to this dinner because she was curious about his job. It sounded believable.

“Oh, no. She’s my girlfriend,” Itaru answered, and she felt her heart stop as his soft, gentle voice registered in her head – her first instinct was to jump out of her chair and stubbornly refute his claim, but then she met his gaze and she swallowed. He was smiling, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Didn’t I tell you all I was seeing someone? Her name is Izumi.”

“A girlfriend?” Surprise flitted through the woman’s eyes, then she turned and studied her, her gaze raking her up and down. She wrinkled her nose. “You must be joking. She’s your sister, right? I mean, why would you be with someone as plain as her?”

Izumi wasn’t sure if she ought to feel offended or not. It wasn’t like she was going out with Itaru, so she didn’t care much about what other people said – but was she plain? Really? Now that was kind of hurtful. She thought about whether his colleague’s jibe was worth responding to, but then Itaru opened his mouth.

“That’s not very nice of you.” His voice was calm, but she thought she saw a little gleam in his eyes. It was an unfamiliar look, and it was intense – far more intense than what she was used to seeing from Itaru. “Izumi, don’t listen to her, okay? She doesn’t know what she’s talking about.”

It took her a second to realise that first, he had called her name, and second, he had kind of spoken up for her? “Uh…” What did he expect her to say? The woman was just staring at her, her expression filled with shock, and Itaru was giving her that placid princely smile – for once she wanted to place her hands on his shoulders and shake that smile off his face. Why did he have to force her into such an awkward situation? “I…um…it’s okay?” she finally said.

She wanted to cringe at herself, but thankfully the woman hmphed and turned away, walking back to her table. Izumi glared at Itaru. “You said you wouldn’t claim that I’m your girlfriend! You were going to leave it up to your colleagues to figure out who I was!” she hissed, keeping her voice down.

“I thought it’d be the easiest way to get them off my back,” he mumbled, leaning in so that no one would overhear their conversation. She felt his breath ghost against her ear and she shivered, her skin suddenly hypersensitive. “I almost said you were my fiancée, okay. I only didn’t because I figured you’d freak out on the spot and spoil the whole act.”

Act. Act. Right. This was an act. She wasn’t really dating Itaru or anything. Right. She took a deep breath to steady her nerves. “Fine,” she whispered. “I’ll pretend to be your girlfriend since you already told your co-workers we’re a couple. But I don’t think I can act –”

“Chigasaki!” Another one of his colleagues wandered over with a half-empty glass in hand, his face flushed. Itaru instantly withdrew, his practised smile snapping back into place, and she had to admire the ease with which he settled into his role. “It's the first time I’ve seen you join one of these events in months!” he boomed, and Izumi fidgeted as the man’s voice carried, drawing the attention of the people around them.

She had expected some level of attention, but this was too much. How did Itaru put up with this every day? No wonder he was always tired when he returned from work. “Ah, our boss made me promise to be here,” Itaru answered, and it was only because they had lived in the same dorm for so long that she even noticed his eyebrow twitch; a subtle sign of irritation.

The man grinned. “I guess even you can’t defy the old man!” he guffawed, and Izumi hoped he would leave soon. He was too loud, and he smelled of alcohol already. Wasn’t it too early to be getting drunk? “And you even brought your girlfriend! Uh, what’s your name?”

“Izumi. It’s nice to meet one of Itaru’s colleagues.” She forced a smile on her face, gingerly shaking the man’s hand. It was slightly damp, and she felt the immediate urge to wipe her palm against her dress. “Do you two work together often?” she asked.

Small talk, just enough to seem polite. She didn’t want Itaru’s co-workers to think that his girlfriend was rude or snobbish. “Yes, we’ve worked together on a few portfolios. He has a real head for numbers, this one.” The man downed the rest of his drink. “Well, I should go back to my seat! It’s going to be a long evening.” He waggled his eyebrows and finally left.

“I can see that,” Itaru mumbled, his façade slipping for just a fraction of a second before he looked up at her and smiled. “They should be bringing the food out soon. So, the plan now,” he leant in again and she tried not to think about how close their lips were, “is that we eat our food, then we claim we have after-dinner activities planned and get the hell out of here. That’s fine, right? I mean…unless you want to stay?”

“No, I don’t want to stay,” she whispered back, her gaze flitting nervously around the function room – there were still some jealous looks being thrown her way, and she felt like if she hung around for too long, she’d shrivel up under the weight of those stares.

“Good. I had no intention of lingering for any longer than absolutely necessary.” He paused. “Actually, as long as I can prove to my boss that I showed up tonight, technically I can leave afterwards…”

“Why did your boss force you to come, though?” she asked. “You have an excuse for pretty much any situation. Couldn’t you make up an emergency or something?”

Itaru exhaled. “My boss pulled me into his office to talk about my team's dynamics. He kept going on about social currency and its importance in workplace cohesion…well, long story short, if I don’t show up tonight it’ll affect my chances of promotion, so there.”

“Let me guess. You want to get promoted so you have more money to spend on…um, other things.” She looked around, careful not to bring up Itaru’s gaming habits outside the dorm.

He nodded. “If not I’d stay at home. Banri said his new game was supposed to arrive today. I was looking forward to that.” He pouted, and she caught herself thinking about how cute he looked – she shook her head, trying to snap out of it. Now was not the time to be distracted by Itaru’s good looks. “Something wrong?” he asked, noticing her strange behaviour.

“No! Nothing!” She was spared from having to say anything more by the sound of a voice blaring through the speakers. They turned towards the stage at the front of the function room, where a woman stood, holding onto a microphone.

The emcee called for everyone’s attention and went quickly through the programme for the night, before inviting the company's chairman onstage to speak. As applause rang out around her, she peeked at Itaru – he was watching the stage with a smile on his face, clapping along with everyone else, but she held no doubt that he’d rather be anywhere else.

She wondered how long he could last before telling her he had to take a toilet break, where he’d then spend the next five minutes or so catching up on his mobile games. She bet he wouldn’t last even fifteen minutes in this place before sneaking away.

Or maybe she should have more faith in him. After all, he did this all the time. Every single day during work hours, Itaru painted the image of the reliable, charming model employee. Maybe she was underestimating him, and he was more than capable of resisting the allure of the washroom. Maybe she would be the first to take a break from all this –

“Toilet break,” Itaru suddenly said, rising from his chair. He smiled at their group and shot her a wink before he headed out of the function room, and she gaped at his retreating back.

And here she had been thinking about giving him the benefit of the doubt, thinking he would be able to prove her wrong for once. Itaru hadn’t even lasted five minutes.

[kasugayamaisforlovers]

I Always Plan on Seeing You

Word Count: 1931

Rating: LS for lightly spicy

Wherein our mischievous Monkey pines for you and eventually gets a taste.(You guys, I have a massive crush on this boy right now...)

You drape your arms around me and the sweet smell of your hair, and the bean paste you’ve been making, envelopes me. You don’t even shrink away from my blood soaked visage anymore. This is our ritual now: I leave to come back to your happy embrace. I pull you in tight. Your body crashes into me, your scent even stronger. I don’t think you know what you do to me. You’re smiling at me with bright, clear eyes--not a hint of pretense or trickery or fear. You’re just you and the unabashed elation I feel at you being so simple, so wonderful...I could die. I smile back at you.

I wish this armor wasn’t between us, that your undoubtedly soft curves would press into me directly. I suppress the urge to undress both of us right here, right now. I can’t imagine the trouble I'd bring on you if your were found with me naked in the kitchen…I’ll save the thought for later.  Instead I cradle your head as I nuzzle my face into your neck, breathing you in. You squirm so pleasantly. I steal a kiss and plant it just beneath you ear and your face is hot by the time I pull away. I laugh. 

“Milord,” you say gazing at your feet. You can be so shy sometimes. Sometimes I almost think you’re in love with someone else. But nevermind any of that. Not now. I stroke the side of your face, run my thumb over your cheek. I want to kiss you again, but one of the other kitchen staff have just walked into the room. I wink at you and pull a red bean bun from the counter behind you before exiting the kitchen.  

I eat the bun on the way to my room. It’s sweet, but I crave the salt of your neck and whatever flavors you keep on those lips. My mind wanders back to your excitement at seeing me, back to your arms around my neck. I flex my fingers, the adrenaline hasn’t quite worn off and I feel like my insides are rattling around. I stop mid stride to look back at the kitchens. I bet you could tire me out. Man, I gotta stop this. Mitsunari will be waiting to help me out of my armor by now. He’s probably already annoyed by how long I'm taking. I have to remember to bring him a new book sometime. 

“Mitsunari!” I yell, exuberant, as I walk through the door before Mitsunari can so much as blink. The trick is to choose your battlefield, rather than letting your opponent push you into a losing position.  

“Lord Hideyoshi,” he answer deferentially. 

“Your stratagems worked masterfully, as always. Surprising the Takeda supply forces with an ambush of heavy infantrymen... you really outdid yourself.” The truth sure, but weaponized as flattery.

“We would not have had the men without the alliances you built, milord.” 

“Take a compliment for once in your life, Mitsu,” I chuckle. He throws me a wry smile and yanks the ties of my hotoke dou free. Then with supreme reverence and gentility replaces the carapace of body armor onto its manikin. Some rather telling body language: I suppose I deserve that. I busy myself with small talk as Mitsunari doffs the rest of my armor. I rattle on pretty convincingly, but all I'm really thinking of is you and your sweet face and your warm skin and your tender heart. I want you. How I want you. 

I’m trying not to play into the fact that I have the upper hand here. I mean, if I wanted to--no--if I was shameless, I could find a pretense to summon you to my room. All I’d have to do is order Mitsunari to bring you. He wouldn’t even ask any questions. I sigh. I’m glad you can’t see how vulgar I am. I obviously don’t want to force you into anything. I flex my fingers again. 

“Thank you, Mitsunari, you can go.” Mitsunari bows stiffly and leaves. Just me, this armor-manikin, and my thoughts of you. Wonderful. 

How can I go back to the kitchen? Am I hungry? I’m not. Could I be hungry? I’m absentmindedly winding a tassel. Then it comes to me: I’ve been asking the wrong question. Are you hungry, you darling person? 

I request a small feast for my vassals. Sure, Lord Nobunaga will feast us later this week when the full retinue returns, but my people deserve something from me. More importantly, this will bring you to me under completely legitimate circumstances. I wash up. 

And here you are. I greet everyone. I toast. I fulfill my lordly duties. I play host. I don’t particularly like that you’ve been chatting with Inuchiyo this entire time, but I understand that you two are old friends. Friends. Just friends. I remind myself that he’s my friend too. 

“Sorry?” I say as Hanbei finishes a sentence that I’ve barely heard.

“You’re the worst,” he mumbles, then as I make eye contact, “the sake is decent. Thank you.” I pat his shoulder and extricate myself.

I smile before interjecting your conversation with that lucky dog. If I didn’t already like Inuchiyo, I’d hate him for this. I concede that he’s great. He’s a loyal friend. He’s a talented fighter. A good samurai. A great straight man for jokes, but he’s not good enough for you. I’ll stop myself short of whether I am either, because a man has to have some confidence when he sets about wooing someone. I start to say something, but you beat me to it.

“Lord Hideyoshi!” You’re excited and I'm excited that you’re excited and I'm excited to see you. I want to scoop you into my arms. As I move toward you, however, I can feel the piercing glare of your guard dog. 

“How are you enjoying the food?” I ask you instead. “Oh, I’m so happy you like it.” I’ll have to stage a diversion to remove Inuchiyo. I look up at his rose colored eyes, I’m sorry my friend but all’s fair. And there’s our distraction… I snag Hanbei’s shoulder as he tries to walk passed me to toward the food.

“Hanbei,” I say. Amazing timing. “Lord Nobunaga was just telling me that he wished to congratulate you on the cavalry maneuver you put together at the siege of Ox Pass.”

“Huh? But that was only possible because of Inuchiyo’s-,” he turns toward Inuchiyo to point, “quick thinking.”  Yes. Yes it was. 

“Oh?” I say like I’m surprised. “Well then I think you should both receive our lord’s commendation.” I push Hanbei and Inuchiyo toward the door. Lord Nobunaga will be out of his chambers by now, so they probably won’t run into him or get punished for asking for favors. They’ll be fine. Speaking of which… I sidle closer to you.

“You should try the sake,” I endeavor. I noticed that you liked it the last time we drank together. 

“I have it’s the floral one with the hint of plum, I really like it,” you smile. The sake is giving you a pink glow. It’s very cute. You’re very cute.

“I’m glad you like it. Have you seen the moon tonight?  It’s shining beautifully over the tea garden.” 

You say that you haven’t and I’m more than happy to escort you. I’m right about the moon. It’s lovely and casting a silver glimmer over the garden. I help you onto a rock seat nestled behind a splendid flowering bush that, on top of adding some romantic ambiance, discreetly hides us from onlookers. The merits of planning ahead. I take the seat opposite you. I set two sake cups and a pot of sake onto the table for us. 

“Did you plan this?” you giggle, all sparkling eyes and ruddy lips. I can’t help but catch a tendril of your hair in my fingers. We exchange a fleeting look. 

“Is it hackneyed to say that I always plan on seeing you?” Oops. I’ve had some sake too. You smile and turn away, pulling the lock of hair from my fingers as you rotate. You don’t believe me. You think I say this to everyone. 

“The leaves look like they’re covered in silver paint,” you muse in a thin voice like you’re going to cry. Don’t cry, darling. No, I’m not teasing you… please. This time you have to believe me. 

I slip off my seat to crouch at your feet. I fold my arms over your knees and lean my head onto them. Your body reacts to my sudden presence but you don’t turn to look at me. 

“I’m sorry if I teased you before,” I begin after too long, “but please believe me when I say that I--” My voice is surprisingly high and you’re looking me square in the face. I hate that you look so distressed. I hope you can see that I’m being serious. ”I just want to be with you.” 

I search for your signal. I search for your “no”. I search for “stop”. 

You look at me fiercely and I stand up. I lean in to kiss you. Your kiss is hot and sake-infused and your lips part inviting me to sink deeper. Your hand reaches for me brushing into my loosely worn robes. Your fingers strike my skin like a match. You start to dart your hand away in embarrassment but I clutch it back to me. You arm glides into my robe and I shiver. My arms are wrapped around you, I coax apart your legs to move closer to you. I drink in your soft whimper as our tongues dance in your sweet, sweet mouth. 

My right hand slides up your back fondling your hair. My other hand traces your ear and the line of your slender neck. I break our kiss to witness you in this moment of passion. The moon veils you in an ethereal light. 

“Don’t stop,” you whisper almost inaudibly. Your every movement stoking the fire in me higher and higher. I start to kiss you again, but it’s not enough. I need to taste your skin like I’ve never needed anything before. Your legs writhe around me and I start to forget where we are. The tender skin of your arm caress my bare back. I yank the robe off your shoulder and kiss the hot flesh around your collarbone. I kiss down your trembling body until I find your breast. 

“Hideyoshi~,” you breathe.

“Hideyoshi! You bastard!” Fuuuuckkkk…..

We snap out of our reverie. You’re deliciously disheveled. I can’t help but stare at you. You’re wide eyed, but mirthful, and covering your mouth. You see me staring and tug my robe closed. That brings me back to earth. I help you right your robe, smooth your hair. 

“HIDEYOSHI! I know you’re out here you monkey bastard!” 

“I’ll distract him, you leave through the east exit,” I whisper to you. You squeeze my hand readying yourself to run for it. It’s cruel that I have to let you go like this, but I wouldn’t dishonor you by getting caught out here. You start to pull away and I catch you in one last kiss. You…

I hear that damn dog stomping closer and throw a rock into a neighboring bush distracting him for long enough to jump out behind him. I can’t turn to watch you go. 

“You’ve found me! Come out to drink with me, Puppy?” I ask cheerfully. 

I’ll have you soon, my darling.

[uesugi-miu]

For anyone who find this at first time.

Please look at my translation's note in Kageie MS #1

--

:: Kageie MS #15 ::

--

Yoshichi : 「The street here is so lively, isn't it.」

Town folk : 「Oh, are you travellers?」

Yoshichi : 「Yeah, It's my first time here. As expected from the castle town of Oda Nobunaga, even if it has just been built.」

Town folk : 「Since Nobunaga-sama has put everything in its place, this area continue regaining its liveliness.」

Yoshichi : 「Nobunaga succeeded in expanding his power continuously. A day that japan will be unified as one is coming closer and closer, I guess.」

Town folk : 「Right, I suppose so. Oh well, isn't this time he eying on Uesugi at Echigo.」

( ! )

Yoshichi-san's drawing all his skillful conversations out, shamelessly tilting his head in puzzlement.

Yoshichi : 「...Aww. I felt like hearing that rumor somewhere...I wonder if it's really true.」

Town folk : 「Let me tell you, It's not just a rumor. There's an official notification, rounding up people to the castle at Mount Azuchi already. My husband also was called for. There...There...You see? That Gigantic mountain castle......」

Yoshichi : 「 ! 」

( There's an official notification out already? )

War is now close at hand.

Time to stop the confrontation of Kageie-san and Uesugi is almost running out.

Fluttering, I repeat those words again and again in my mind.

Miu : 「And when did your husband go to Azuchi castle?」

Town folk : 「It was just this morning.」

Yoshichi : 「...tsu...We may still have time!」

We thanks the woman and hurriedly head towards the risen Azuchi castle in the distance.

.

.

Dashing through unknown streets. We run and run and run...frantically rushing up the mountain path... After quite a struggle, we've finally reached the castle gate.

Yoshichi-san places both hands on his knees, catching up his breath then looking upward to the majestic Azuchi castle which was boasted about.

Yoshichi : 「Hmm...The castle itself really gives forth its power to the surroundings......」

The fortress was made of stone walls. The eaves and roof tiles were decorated by gold leafs. Lower wall of the castle tower is also gorgeous, its surface was coated by black lacquer.

Just thinking that Uesugi army will have to confront with this Oda, terror of the battle has pierced through my body painfully.

Maid : 「Oh?」

An old woman carried a basket on her back, climbing up the mountain path.

Maid : 「What business you have there at this place hmm? If it's about Nobunaga-sama......」

Yoshichi : 「Well! We've come running because of the war official notification!」

Yoshichi-san comes up with an instant lie to cover our true identities.

Maid : 「Oh I see! but it's a little late now. They have just departed for the front not long ago.」

Yoshichi : 「Eh...?」

( ......We can't make it in time...... )

Maid : 「What's the problem? Looking dejected, Wanna join the battle that much?」

Yoshichi : 「I heard that a brave guy name Kakizaki has changed side to be here...I really wish to fight alongside him.」

Maid : 「Kakizaki......Aaahh! Kakizaki...that guy, is it.」

Miu : 「You know him!?」

Maid : 「Ahh. Yeah...Sometimes ago he ran from somewhere or something like that......」

Old woman folded her arms, recalling her memory.

Maid : 「Ah...Talking about Kakizaki-sama, there's something just now...Recently, he cut down shinobi who attacked Nobunaga-sama in the blink of an eye.」

Miu : 「Eh...?」

Yoshichi : 「...I knew it. Not bit different from the rumor I heard, he's such a powerful warrior.」

( Kageie-san...his betrayal...can't be true, right? )

Worriedly, I exchange look with Yoshichi-san.

However, what the old woman said next has taken all my breath away.

Maid : 「But you know, that guy values so much a cute temari pattern charm.」

( Temari pattern charm...... )

Once again, old woman pleasantly narrows her eyes, try squeezing out more of her memory. She's giggling before continue chatting.

Maid : 「The cord of that charm has been cut and he's completely downhearted just like a little baby...I suppose just how powerful warrior he is, he's still a human's child anyway, isn't he.」

I still can't believe my ears.

( Why...? and that charm is...... )

Miu : 「That charm...isn't it an old one with pale brown color? Is it really a temari pattern charm?」

Maid : 「Exactly it is. I am the one who fixed its cord so I remember it really really well.」

My thought was now entangled. Speechless...I am.

Miu : 「Thank you very much.....」

I managed to wring out thanking word then slowly lowing down my head. The moment I realized, I've run the way I came without ever looking back......

Yoshichi : 「W...Wait! Yahiko! What on earth has happened!?」

Yoshichi-san chases after me desperately.

( It was that...that...Kageie-san...... )

I recall that cold blunt attitude and my heart was torn apart.

I don't want anyone to see my tears but how many times I wipe it away, tears come flooding, soaking my cheeks wet.

『Miu : 「B...By the way! Where's the charm that I sewed on your shabby kimono?」

Kageie : 「......I lost it.」 』

( Actually...he has it with him all this time... )

His word and his attitude...What's the meaning of all that......

( I really don't understand...you have to tell me. )

( ......When I meet you, Kageie-san, I wanna hear your explanation...... )

All I can do is standing right there, hugging my own trembling body.

When I already calm myself down, I raise up my face with all my conviction.

Yoshichi : 「Yahiko...What has......」

Miu : 「Kageie-san didn't betray us. There's never such thing.」

Yoshichi : 「Eh?」

Miu : 「I'm sure, he planned to do something and will definitely return to where we are.」

( If it isn't so...he must have thrown away my charm already...right? )

Yoshichi : 「......Right.」

Yoshichi-san nods and smiles at me, although his expression looks more like he's going to burst into tears.

From horseback...there's a person who overlooks two people's conversation.

Nobunaga : 「......」

After thinking for a while, he issues an order to Mitsuhide who's following behind.

Nobunaga : 「Run a fast-horse to Tedori river.」

Mitsuhide : 「Yes, milord.」

Clouds of dust rising while he's turning his horse, galloping it back to Azuchi castle.

.

.

Uesugi army's marching, advancing to the west. They've stopped near Temari river in order to attack Oda.

Kanetsugu : 「...Looks like they're here.」

Kenshin : 「Seem it is so...」

Kenshin squints his eyes leisurely, watching the enemy.

What comes emerge from the hot heat at the opposite side of the shore is the army of thousands men...

.

.

Across the river, Oda's camp.

.

.

Katsuie : 「......」

As highest General, Katsuie recognized Uesugi army at the opposite bank, getting ready for a stern battle.

Kageie's profile who's held back at the rear side grows cold. His emotion can't be read.

Kageie : 「......」

Retainers gave Kageie a look then approach Katsuie.

Retainer 1 : 「Oyaji-dono, can we say something?」

Katsuie : 「What is it?」

Retainer 1 : 「How about we have Kakizaki-dono heading across the river alone then observe what'll happen?」

Katsuie : 「And your aim is?」

Retainer 1 : 「Our enemy must be shaken knowing that he, who betrayed and escaped from them is with us, so as things are, their battle formation will be thrown into disorder.」

Retainer 2 : 「And we'll know how far we can trust Kakizaki-dono too......」

Retainer 1 : 「If there's any suspicious movement, we can aim an arrow at his back.」

Katsuie : 「Tsu...That is...you damn say using decoy!?」

Retainer 2 : 「Oyaji-dono! We're so sorry but in the end we still can't put our faith into that guy. At least, give us a way to believe......」

Kageie : 「It doesn't matter to me. I'll become decoy.」

Observing Kageie, who has just declared his decision, again sharp voice was raised.

Hideyoshi : 「You all'd better stop that idea.」

Retainer 1 : 「Why we have to...!」

Hideyoshi : 「I may not be able to find the right word to convince you but...he has too less hesitation. Despite the fact that it's very probable that he, as a former chief retainer who betrayed to the enemy's side, will be cut down as soon as he arrived at his former base. So I'd say, what on earth is his purpose?」

Kageie : 「......」

Katsuie : 「What you said is surely reasonable but Kakizaki killed the assassin and that's why Oyakata-sama ordered us to take him along to the battle. I think Oyakata-sama must have his own plan. Besides, our enemy this time is Uesugi, if there's a usable weapon at hand but we won't make a good use of it and then we lose, that's a failure. I absolutely can't go back and face Oyakata-sama who awaits at Mount Azuchi.」

That moment, Hideyoshi recognized one upright gaze from Kageie.

Kageie : 「......Can I talk to you about the reason why I am here, Hideyoshi-san?」

Hideyoshi : 「......Umm.」

.

.

Kagetsugu : 「Enemy huh?」

Long moment when time stood still has now come to an end...

From the opposite side of the shore, appears only one shadow of a horse. Uesugi army shoot through their tensions.

The second when that face basking in the darken sun was exposed, everybody's roaring in unison.

Kanetsugu : 「Kageie......!?」

Kenshin : 「......」

Riding his horse against the gentle stream of the river is a guy who once escaped from Kasugayama, Kageie.

[notquitejiraiya]

Chess [21] - {ShikaTema AU}

A long-ass chapter for you. The best of days / nights / lives to you all :)

[READ / COMMENT ON AO3]

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

He unloaded the last bouquet into the back of the car and grimaced in the direction of the lady who’d forced him to do such work as she chatted pleasantly to Ino. Calmly he wiped his hands down his apron and started to walk back inside, hoping to avoid being part of this conversation. He’d had a bad enough morning as it was, and it was barely eight-forty-five. As his shoulder bashed the door, driving the bell to ring violently again, Shikamaru let out a huge sigh, rubbing his eyes. He just wanted to go home now, but apparently their customer was having none of that.

“Excuse me!”

At the sound of the lady’s voice, Shikamaru turned slowly, forcing a toothless grin as he leant sluggishly against the shop’s door. “What do you need now, madam?”

Apparently unaware of the invalidity of his kind response, she stepped towards him, rooting around inside of her purse. With a huge grin, she pulled out a ten pouch note and thrust it into his hands, to which Shikamaru could do nothing but frown in confusion. “Um, I shouldn’t—”

“Without you my daughter’s wedding would have no flowers. It’s the least I can do to thank you.”

He avoided the glare Ino was giving her over the woman’s shoulder and softened his smile into something a little more real, nodding in understanding. “Right, cheers. Good luck to your daughter today.”

“He means,” Ino added furiously, in front of him to give the woman a big cheesy grin herself, “he hopes she has the best day. And you, too!”

Looking ecstatic, the lady thanked them once more and scurried back to her car before hurrying off down the road. Shikamaru stared at the money in his hand and raised his eyebrows before stuffing it into his jeans, turning on his heel and shuffling back into the shop. It was cold—you wouldn’t catch him out there again if he could help it.

“You better give me half of that, Shikamaru,” hissed Ino, slamming the door behind her. She followed him closely, stepping on his heels, and he had to work hard not to trip up each time her toes pinned down his boots for a moment. “I put together most of the bouquets!”

“She gave me a tip, not you,” he chuckled, raising his eyebrows at her before making his way up the stairs. “So no.”

“We’re florists—we aren’t even meant to get tips.”

“You weren’t lifting anything, were you?” Ino pouted, staring at him in angry silence as he waited for her response. “So, no,” he added bluntly, “it’s mine.”

Taking his time, he climbed the rest of the stairs, feeling his muscles tire a little more every second at the tedious activity. A back-room, he had always thought, would be far more practical. One floor meant less stairs—the exact reason why he aspired to live in a bungalow in later life.

When he reached the coats that hung against the wall at the top of the stairs, he fished out the money from his pocket and placed it into the inside pocket of his own jacket. That’ll at least get me small pack of straights when I run out, he thought, and sat back in the chair he’d sat in earlier. His dirty coffee cup still donned the table in front of him, and his messy handwriting scrawled across the clipboard, still.

For a moment, all was peaceful, and Shikamaru tried to let his mind wander. He questioned why it was that he had been such a coward today—why he’d not been stronger to Kankuro and why he hadn’t been honest with Temari. Calling her was all he could think about doing right now, and the feeling of his was burning a hole in his apron, but it was exactly what he’d committed to him not doing. She didn’t want him to, did she? So he couldn’t. If he followed the line of least resistance, life would surely just get easier, remain peaceful…

But nothing was ever peaceful while Ino, who had suddenly appeared at the top of the staircase, was breathing down your neck.

“We’re still open, Shikamaru,” she huffed. “Just because you’re tired and moody doesn’t mean you get to be a snappy asshole.”

He couldn’t stop himself complaining. “Oh, shut up…”

“What is wrong with you?”

“Just chill out, Ino,” he sighed. “I’m just having a sit down; the world isn’t ending.”

“You’re a twenty-three year old man—mind of an old git or not. You don’t need to have a sit down.”

Quietly, he let his eyes flicker shut and embraced the moment of silence—silence, except Ino’s heavy, bothersome breathing. He could feel his mind falling into patterns, and the colours behind his eyelids dancing in the dark; yellows and purples filling his vision, twisting into shapes and patterns that resembled a person. It didn’t take a second to clock who. For a short time he was glad for his brain giving in to his subconscious, until he began to feel it swallowing him whole, engulfing him in the falseness of his fantasy. His eyes flickered open, frightened of the reality he’d created for himself; one where poor phrasing and handling of just one situation could change everything.

In that moment purple and yellow were ruined.

“Ino,” uttered Shikamaru, spinning the chair to look at her. “You’re a girl.”

“What a genius you are…”

He almost laughed, but steadied himself, “Really, though. If I called a girl wonderful is that a compliment?”

Ino frowned, her mouth agape. “Wow, are you serious?”

“What?”

“Do you actually have to ask that?”

“Don’t push me,” he warned, turning away again and focussing on the cacti pictures on the wall. “I’m involving you, like you begged me to the other day, so—”

“Oh my god!” She squealed, bouncing on the spot slightly. In a flash she dashed closer to him and spun his chair around so he could do nothing but look her in the eye. “I was right, wasn’t I? That was her. Your girlfriend.”

His eyes rolled and Shikamaru did everything to avoid looking in her direction. “She’s not my girlfriend, Ino. Now can you please let go of the chair so I can go and have a ciga—”

“No, I won’t.” Her long blonde fringe slung menacingly across her expression, she scowled at him, an excited glint undeniably hiding in her eye. “First you’re explaining to me why you’re acting so weird over a girl.”

~~~

She hoped that he’d be out. She hoped that when she shuffled into their kitchen, a mess of sheepish smiles, fought back tears and windswept hair, he wouldn’t be waiting for her. Anything—even just being asleep in his room—was better than sitting watching the TV, his head turned staring at her as her shoes clicked against the tiles.

But that was obviously exactly what he was doing.

“Why aren’t you in class?” Temari quizzed, desperate to get the first word in. It was vital he remembered that she was the older sibling; the alpha, if you will.

Gaara shrugged. “Cancelled.” She barely took a step towards him before a began to smile, sighing as he swung his legs off of the couch to make room for her. “He took you home, huh?”

Temari halted on her way closer to him. “Excuse me?”

“Your patient with the anti-gravity hair.”

“What are you insinuating, Gaara?”

“I watch people lie everyday, Temari,” he said softly. “I can tell when a text is from my sister or not.”

“How?”

His smile widened as his hand raked through his messy, red hair, expecting her to flop down beside him as he tapped the seat. “Firstly you left half a pitcher of cocktails on the table, and you never waste your drinks.”

She started to blush, dropping her bag on the floor.

“Secondly, you could barely grip your phone to check the time before you went to the bathroom.”

“But how do you know I didn’t go in there, sober up a bit and see sense?” she argued, slipping off her coat and throwing it down on her bag.

“Because I watched you follow that man into the men’s, Temari.”

Feeling that sickly churning of embarrassment starting to arise, the blonde fell down on the sofa next to her brother and bit hard on her lip, whining. “This detail isn’t nearly as striking to people as it ought to be! Why is nobody amazed that I did that?”

Gaara chuckled and carefully put his arm around her shoulders. “You’re direct. That’s why.”

If she was so direct that she could walk into a men’s bathroom and confront Shikamaru about god knows what, why couldn’t she just be direct about what she wanted from him. If she was so direct that her brother wasn’t surprised, and that she could do things that would’ve driven most people up the wall, why didn’t Shikamaru understand what she meant when she told him that she thought he was great—that she wasn’t just being polite. Because she definitely meant it.

Her mind began to run in circles, around and around the dark-haired idiot that haunted her every move, and with that she knew the only thing she could hope for from Gaara now was patience. Understanding would be too farfetched to hope for, but she knew if she just told the truth he’d at least have a little more respect for her.

“I didn’t sleep with him. I know it doesn’t make it better, but I promise I didn’t.”

“Temari,” said Gaara, “do you know what you want yet?”

The calmness of his response stunned her, and Temari turned to Gaara again full of nothing short of amazement. “What? You’re not pissed at me.”

“Of course I’m not,” he chuckled, pulling her closer to him and pressing a kiss on her temple. “I’m trying to be kind again; be the cool brother.”

Temari felt her whole body fall to tense and turn cold. “Oh, fuck being the cool brother, Gaara! Tell me I’m an idiot—you’re meant to tell me I’m an idiot.”

“You know I’m not going to do that.”

“Why?”

“Because you need to decide what you want for yourself.” Her brother squeezed her in a hug before relaxing back to look into her sad eyes, full of confusion. “Nothing Kankuro and I say or do has ever stopped you doing what you want anyway. Exhibit ‘a’ being becoming a psychiatrist.”

“And within my first month totally ruining a patient’s life!”

“But how do you know that you’ve done that? Did he tell you?”

Bitter and struggling to fight her brother’s sensibility, Temari bit down on her lip and looked away. “As good as…”

“I need you to be really honest with me; no more lies or underselling things.”

Gaara got to his feet, turning the TV off and slowly pacing in front of her, hands neatly behind his back. Temari couldn’t help fidgeting, curling her knees to her chest and holding back the feeling of sheer bewilderment that Gaara was acting this way.

“Tell me,” he said gently, “exactly how you feel about him.”

~~~

“I’m not acting weird.”

Ino raised her eyebrows at him. “You forgot to bring in your cigarettes this morning and some girl brought them in? That isn’t normal you. Choji was right.”

“Stop…”

“Did you fight?”

“She isn’t my girlfriend, Ino.”

“But you were with her last night weren’t you?”

“Ino…”

“You slept with her, didn’t you?” Her face was a perfect mixture of surprise and disgust. “Oh my god! You dark horse!”

“Oh, come on! I didn’t sleep with her and she’s not my girlfriend,” he groaned, falling back into the chair. “She was my therapist, alright? Happy now?”

“I mean, not really. You don’t have to be so angry about it.”

“You’re impossible.”

“So why did she have your cigarettes?”

Fortunately he could think fast. “I left them at her office yesterday.”

And even more fortunately, Ino bought it. “Then why you were outside talking? You guys didn’t look happy out there?”

“What?”

Ino pointed to the window, eyebrows raised. “You think I wasn’t going to watch you?”

“I repeat: you’re impossible.” He faced the desk, away from her, and rested his elbows on the table, his fingertips all touching.

“You’re avoiding all of my questions, Shikamaru.”

He preceded to do exactly that, forcing himself up and shuffling over to the window. Outside it was starting to rain, and he glanced over to what the carpenter’s was doing: empty, of course, but Shikamaru almost smiled. The rain clung to the window as desperately, but each droplet fell far sooner than expected; tiny, cold bullets. He almost wanted to step outside and let them hit his face. Maybe they’d wake him up, acclimatise him to his reality, or set his facts straight.

“Wait..was?” Ino asked after a while, staring past him out the window.

“Huh?”

“Past tense. What changed?”

Shikamaru sighed, rubbing his eyes. “It’s busy out.” It wasn’t. “One of us should be on shop floor.”

“Stop avoiding my questions.”

“They don’t matter, Ino.”

“I thought she was helping you—you said she was good.”

“And she was, but now I’ve got to find someone else.”

“Why?”

He sat silently.

“Why, Shikamaru?”

“Because I made it weird, alright?” he finally spat, his frustrating fuelling the sharpness of his tone. “I asked her out last week and it’s all gone to shit.”

“So you mean…”

“Yeah, that girl Choj was on about was her.”

“No, I mean you dated your therapist?” Her eyes narrowed and features bunched up. “Shikamaru, that’s so wrong!”

“You don’t have to tell me! What do you think every conversation I’ve had with her since then has been about, Ino?”

Ino looked sheepish. “To be honest, I’m still amazed you asked someone out—therapist or not.”

“Shut up.”

“Didn’t you have a session only yesterday? That’s why you couldn’t stay and close up, right?”

He nodded, eyes squeezed shut. “But by then shouldn’t you have—”

“Yes, I should’ve stopped seeing her. I know.”

“So why the hell did you meet her last night?”

“I didn’t mean to.” He slowly put his palms together and his fingertips to his lips. “I just went to the pub to see Choji and have a drink, and she was there—”

“You had a drink?” He knew the look she’d be giving him right now if he were to open his eyes, appalled and angry, so he simply didn’t look and instead felt her gaze burrow into him. “A drink, or a drink?”

Shikamaru sighed. “Ino…”

“Oh, God—why, Shikamaru? You’ve not drunk in years!”

“Because I felt like such a screw up, Ino; such a failure, and such a damn coward.” His breath hitched in his throat and he forced his eyes open, hoping that would stop the prickling he felt in them. “And before you say it: it wasn’t her fault, it was mine. I was just…it doesn’t matter. I just haven’t done anything in years that has made me feel so useless.”

Ino frowned, putting her hand on his shoulder. She waited for him to shrug it off but instead he remained still, staring at his feet. “You have some serious feelings for her, don’t you?”

He stayed quiet. This wasn’t a hole he could let himself fall down.

“You do. But she was your therapist they’re not real feelings. Not love feelings.”

“Of course I don’t love her—I’ve not even known her for a month.”

“So you know that they’re not right.”

“How do you know that?” he chuckled. “I know how I’m meant to feel; I’m meant to feel like I can just disconnect, but I don’t feel like that at all. I’ve had a therapist that I long to keep because he was so helpful, and he understood me, and I wanted his friendship because of that.”

“And that didn’t work out, did it?”

“But it isn’t the same with Temari! I want to know her because I understand her. I want to waste my time drinking coffee and sitting in parks and watching her eat chips.  want to listen to her chat shit about nothing in particular, or tell me more about her life and her family. Granted I probably won’t concentrate on all of it, but the sound of her voice in the background will be enough, Ino. Don’t you get that? It’s different.”

“What you want is to get better, Shikamaru. It always has been.”

“No,” he laughed. “You know what? I couldn’t care less if I get better or not, as long as I get to see Temari. I don’t care.”

“You should care.”

“Well, I don’t. I just care about her.”

Reluctantly the corners of Ino’s mouth were tugged up into a smile, and it was terribly unnerving.

“Why are you doing that?”
 “What? Smiling?” she giggled softly. “Because I never thought you would ever say something like that.”

Shikamaru frowned, slumping against the wall. “You know, me neither…”

~~~

Temari’s eyes widened and she shook her head, staring hopelessly int her brother’s eyes. “You can’t be serious.”

“Of course I’m serious. I want to know what you feel.”

“I mean you can’t be serious that you have absolutely no thoughts of your own on this.” “I admit you’ve made a mess of it—both of you, it seems—but it’s what you do next that matters.”

“What the hell do you mean?”

“Stop snapping at me, Temari.”

“Don’t tell me what to do, Gaara. I’m the eldest.” Her sour expression slowly reformed, imposing innocence and genuine worry once more. “Actually, I take that back: tell me exactly what to do now, laywer-man.”

“I was going to say,” he chuckled. “That seemed a bit childish for you, I must say.”

She stuck her tongue out and he smiled.

“I know that you like him, Temari. I can tell that you like him a lot.”

“But I shouldn’t,” she lamented.

“Which is beyond the point. I know he’s your patient, and it’s unethical but your—”

“He’s not,” she interrupted, chewing on her thumb nail. “He isn’t anymore.”

Gaara stared at her for a moment and her brain rushed around, busy with every thought at once. It didn’t occur to her for a second what he might do next, or why he eased backwards to turn off the TV. She shuffled over, making more room for him to sit.

But he didn’t sit.

She pushed her hair from her eyes and continued to chew her nails, until with an authoritative stare Gaara stopped her, clicking his fingers to grab her attention—as if it had ever been off him in the first place. “Give me your phone, please.”

“What? It’s in my bag.” She frowned, her eyes following him as he walked toward said bag and lifted it. “Why do you need it? Where’s yours?”

He unzipped her bag and held it up, looking at her expectantly. “May I?”

“Um, sure. Just explain, maybe?”

“I’ll explain in a minute,” he said, gripping her phone and poking the screen. “Password?”

“One, five, one, nine—why, Gaara?”

“Thank you,” was all he said before tapping it a few more times and then licking his lips.

Temari’s heart dropped as she heard it begin to ring.

~~~

Shikamaru’s jumped when his phone started to buzz in the pocket of his apron and he whipped it out, not expecting his stomach to flip upon reading the name.

“Who is it?” Ino asked eagerly, staring up at him. “Is it her?”

He shook his head and letting his hand fall, the vibrations sending shivers through his body. “Just let it ring out.”

“Shikamaru, is it her?”

“I’m not telling you who it is. You’ll get all annoying about it.”

“I am not annoying,” she snapped, grabbing the phone out of his hand. “I’m going to answer.”

“No you’re fucking not,” laughed Shikamaru, reaching out to take it, but Ino jumped back, avoiding his hand.

She poised herself to press the big green button, smiling nervously, and motioned for Shikamaru to sit down. He fell into the chair, swivelling with his head in his hands, listening intently as she answered.

“Hello?”

~~~

“Hello,” he replied, Temari’s heart pounding out of her chest as she listened to the calm voice of the man before you.

“You’re not Temari!” A girls voice echoed down the phone. “Wait, are you—”

“You’re definitely not Shikamaru either,” chuckled Gaara.  It was Ino’s voice—the blonde girl she’d seen that morning. Just from her tone, Temari could tell. Shikamaru had described her well. “Can I speak to him please?”

“Who are you? Please just pass her over—oi, dumb-ass don’t give me that look!”

Temari stifled a laugh, knowing the exact condescending expression that she was receiving from him at that moment. He was there and, like her, he was listening in. That thought was both terrifying and insanely exciting.

“So you’re what?” repeated Ino. “Her boyfriend?” Down the line she heard the faint echo of a deep voice mutter something, but only her voice came through properly. “No, Shikamaru. You don’t know that. She could’ve and you just didn’t know.”

“I’m her brother,” Gaara told her calmly, looking Temari dead in the eye as he did so.

“Well, you’re not, because her brother came in and tormented my friend this morning and I can see his dumb face across the street hitting something with a hammer.”

“That’s our brother, miss.” How he didn’t lose it with her Temari couldn’t grasp. She wasn’t sure she had the patience for this. “She has more than one brother, me being one of them. And who are you?”

The voice went silent at the end of the line, but a deep mumble echoed through until she said, “I’m his friend.”

Temari hit the sofa quickly, over and over, to get his attention until the redhead turned around. “Ino,” she whispered. “Her name is Ino, I think.”

Gaara nodded, mouthing a thank you in recognition. “May I ask why you’ve answered his phone when I can hear him in the background?”

“Probably the same reason you called and not her,” Ino laughed. “Because the idiot in front of me thought it was too stupid an idea.”

“It was a stupid idea, Ino. Just freaking—uh, just gimme that!” The voice had changed, and tingles fell down Temari’s spine at the sound of it. “Hi, um, Gaara was it?”

Gaara hummed in response, looking at Temari wide-eyed as if she could somehow explain the chaos on the other end of the phone. However his sister just sat there, so struck by confusion and shock that she could barely move. Her mouth hung open, amazed, and yet her eyes looked bright—excited, even—at the sound of this new voice.

“Yeah, hi,” the man on the end of the line continued. “This is Shikamaru Nara. We spoke before. Is she there? Temari, I mean.”

“We did, yes. And I wanted to talk to you, not—”

“I know,” he interrupted, “but now I’m staring at the phone I think I may as well talk to her, as bothersome as it is.”

“She is here, but she really did not want me to ring you up.”

“I’m not surprised.” The chuckle that resonated through her phone shook her when it reached her ears, and she found herself giggling quietly.

“But,” added Gaara, “she’ll listen to you if you have something to say.”

There was silence down the phone for a while, bar the angry hissing of the higher pitched voice every now and again because he was so quiet. Gaara smiled at his sister, his expression one of what seemed like pity, but she knew he was smug on the inside, and he had every right to be. If her brother hadn’t had the nerve to call him, she might’ve never spoken to Shikamaru or heard his deep voice again. So instead of throwing a pillow at him—which she had been greatly debating for the last few minutes—she simply smiled back, her chin resting on the back of the sofa.

But she’d sat hyping up the moment he Shikamaru would speak so much in her mind that when eventually he cleared his throat and started to mumble something incoherent, seemingly to Ino, her body went to jelly. Thank God she was sat down…

“I’m an idiot,” he started, his usual monotone voice heavy with regret. “I don’t know how many times you’ve given me a chance to say fuck it and I haven’t taken it. And even though you’re ‘Miss It’s-Against-The-Rules’, you’ve egged me on to break so many and take so many chances without even knowing it.”

He sighed, and Temari watched as Gaara rolled his eyes. That’s when the pillow next to her started flying through the air, colliding with her brother’s chin. She paused, proud of her aim, but unsure how exactly this was meant to be positive. He was admitting things he’d done wrong, but she’d done things too. She’d made everything all the more confusing, hadn’t she?

Or was this, this acknowledgement of her making him take chances, him understanding what she meant.

That wasn’t something she had time to consider in the time it took for him to keep talking. “I said I wouldn’t call because I shouldn’t. That didn’t mean I didn’t want to,” he mumbled. “And I don’t know about you but I want to talk to you a lot. I’ve told you this—with you I’m okay, whether you like it or not. So hear me, and listen to me.” He cleared his throat. “I want you to help me. By being my pal, not my therapist.”

Girly laughter swiftly followed on the other end. “Pal? Your pal, Shikamaru?”

“Shut up, Ino,” he grumbled, clearly still nervous.

Temari, her mouth agape, stared at Gaara as he smiled, trying not to chuckle. The giggles on the end of the phone from Ino weren’t helping her to keep a level head, but with everything that had happened in the last twenty-four hours and the uncharacteristically encouraging grin on Gaara’s lips she couldn’t help jumping over the back of the sofa and carefully taking her phone from Gaara’s hands.

“You’re a pain and I seriously hate how much I think about you.”

She grinned. It was that comment that pushed the words out. “Shikamaru,” she mumbled, getting out the name as it hitched in her throat, “can you hear me?”

There was silence for a moment, and then suddenly a cheerful, “Yeah.”

Her heart leaped. “So, tonight…are you busy?”

“Nope,” he chuckled. “Do you fancy fish and chips or something?”

Temari’s entire body flushed hot and she bounced up and down, smiling at Gaara who nodded slightly. “Shikamaru,” she grinned, “you absolutely read my mind.”

[taggianto]

The Aces Charity Carnival

Ladies and gentleman, step right up! It’s time for the annual Las Vegas Aces Charity Carnival!

Born from spitballing in the Parse Posi Posse discord. Love to @rushingsnowy (Linnea) and beaniebaneenie (CJ) for cheerleading and helping with this, and love to the rest of the Posse for all their support and awesomeness in general!

Suddenly I have the image of the Aces doing some sort of fundraiser with a dunk tank and everyone on the team signing up so they can dunk Carl

And like, it's outside in Las Vegas and normally it would be like, super hot so getting dunked in a tub full of water would be a good thing? Except it's stupidly unseasonably cold the day of the fundraiser so by the end of his shift Carl is shivering and his lips may or may not be blue from it

And then it's Kent's turn and everyone who signs up misses on purpose.

Jeff has a line a mile long while he's in the kissing booth.

Mostly because he's out at this point so there's both men and women lined up to kiss him

Kent gets in line with the guise of it being "for charity" but really he just wants to be able to kiss his boyfriend in public with a layer of plausible deniability

Scrappy is actually really good at face painting? So he spends the whole time painting kids faces with Aces logos and butterflies and sharks and abusing his glitter spray liberally

So what if each booth is for a different charity. Like the kissing booth is for HIV testing, the dunk tank is for well drilling in impoverished countries, the face painting is for art education... and each Ace is sponsoring one of the booths and matching all donations by 500%

CJ: What if the only person who dunks Kent is Bitty, because he wanted to see Kent with a wet t-shirt

But it's okay because it's at the end of his shift and then Jeff is there with a big fluffy towel to get him all dry

Jack is super awkward at this whole carnival thing. But he and Kent have started talking again and Kent had invited him and it was the offseason so he really didn't have an excuse....

He asks for a hockey stick at the face painting booth and scrappy paints a super glittery butterfly on him instead because he's still a little petty about how much his Captain got hurt by this guy

Jeff scolds him later because liking butterflies as a guy isn't a bad thing and shouldn't be used as a method of humiliating someone but at the same time he's like but for real I get you, bro

Jeff's just like "next time just like, paint that the Aces are better than the Falcs and then get that shit on insta."

CJ: ....what if Jack offers to get in the dunk tank (also matching donations?)

Bitty talks him into this because the only thing better than jack in a tshirt is jack in a wet tshirt Bitty has a Thing okay?

Linnea: are bitty and jack out in this? does the media latch onto pictures of sparkly butterfly on jack's face and go 'this gay pro athlete out here, being gay' and jack's like 1) i just wanted a hockey stick 2) a sparkly butterfly isn't what makes me gay? i was literally holding my boyfriend's hand and kissing him. why not take a picture of that?

Jack and Bits are definitely out for this.

There's definitely like, a hardest slap shot competition, with two entry levels - amateaur and pro. Because a lot of hockey players show up for this thing and jump at the chance to show off

Bitty actually signs up for the pro side and does pretty damn well for himself.

Jack and Kent end up tying for second. Some nobody fourth liner for the Lightning gets first and a lot of the players in the area are like hmmmmm

One of their goalies is really good at slight of hand, and does magic trick shows for the kids

They call the goalie Houdini. His first name is Harry anyway, the magic tricks were just a fortunate coincidence.

He's like their back-up's back up. But the guys love him too much so even though he's down in the AHL for the moment, he still gets invited to all the team events off season.

There's also a silent auction of course, and there's the requisite signed jerseys and sticks and pucks, but there are also gift certificates to the player's favorite restaurants, and one of the most popular items is a date with a few of the players.

So. Who wins the dates? Let me tell you.

Jeff's date is bought by this older gentleman who takes Jeff out to a celebrity restaurant in Vegas and then to a bourbon bar afterwards and they bond over talking about trains - Jeff loves model trains and the gentleman's father was an engineer.

Scrappy goes out with a woman whose husband bought the date for her. She's middle aged and super self conscious about her looks, but Scrappy is a total gentleman and treats her like royalty the entire night. They go swing dancing and she turns out to be really good once she gets the hang of it.

CJ: What if scrappy got her a corsage, bc that's what people did for dates when this woman was in the dating world

Kent's "date" is bought by the parents of a ten-year old kid who's on the spectrum and idolizes Kent. Kent takes him out onto the ice and shows him how to shoot the puck and gives him a jersey and one of his old sticks and shows him all around the behind the scenes of the arena, and also gives him box seat tickets to a game with his parents. It's a private box so if it gets too overstimulating for him he can take a break. Kent keeps up with the kid, sending him emails and eventually helps him pay for college when his parents go through a rough spot.

No one buys Carl's date.

CJ: bitty also definitely paid to kiss swoops

Kent gets Ideas when he sees Jeff and Bitty kiss. Because he's over Jack by now, he has no desire to start up any sort of sexual relationship with him ever again. But. He just might be convinced to sit and watch their boyfriends.... >.> this isn't an NsFW chat but you get the idea.

CJ: ...maybe Kent gets it in his head to kiss bitty?

And is v. disappointed when Bits doesn't get in line for his shift at the kissing booth. But then again he isn't out so Bits may just be trying to respect that? But then again he IS Jack's fiancé. And Kent is Jack's ex. Maybe that would be weird? But maybe it would be hot... fuck.

All I know is they def go out for a double date after the carnival except Bitty isn't aware it's a double date at first because he doesn't know Kent and Jeff are together, except Kent thinks he does because he definitely told Jack about them and he just figures that Jack will have told Bitty but he hasn't? Because he didn't want to out Kent if that's not what he wanted? And Jesus Christ Jack, since when did you get to be so thoughtful?

Fuck, yes of course you can tell your fucking fiancé that I'm in a relationship with my teammate but thank you for not assuming.

CJ: "Hey Eric, Swoops and I need you to settle something for us... We keep fighting over who is the better kisser... We need you to be the objective scorer. For science."

Bitty: But I'm not a girl? Kent: wait, what? Bitty: you're both straight, right? Or well, I know Jeff is Bi but... Jeff: Eric, Kent and I are together. Kent: And you know Jack is my ex. Bitty: Right but like you'd never actually come out to me or anything and I didn't want to assume I just thought maybe you were trying to get comparisons between how you both kiss different people and Jeff: Dude, breathe.(edited)

CJ: Jeff: also Zimmermann? [Bitty] is a good kisser. Out of your league, definitely. Way to go.

Jeff: *holds out a fist for a bump* Jack: Uh.... Bitty: No, babe he's totally right. I am so out of your league. *kisses his cheek*

Meet me in NSFW.

They go back to Kent and Jeff's place after dinner and Kent is definitely quite a bit tipsy on wine and Jeff is pleasantly buzzed and Bitty is too and Jack's the only one who's fully sober.

Jeff: So Kent and I were talking. Kent: *giggles* Jeff: And he'd totally like to watch you fuck me, Eric. If you'd be up for that. Bitty: :flushed: Jack: :no_mouth: :thinking: :flushed: CJ: Bitty: looks at swoops and sees tall muscle-y brunette Bitty: i.....could be persuaded

Bitty: glances at Jack Jack: subtly tries to hide the bulge that's appeared in his dress pants Jack: *looks at Kent* Would that mean we...? Kent: Oh, no. Sorry Zimms, you know I love you bro but that'd be weird I think? But I'm totally cool with watching them while we jack off to it. Admit it, it'd be hot as fuck. Jack: :tomato: Jeff: I'll take that as a yes?

CJ: Ngl i love bitty/parswoops bc  A) Kent gets two bfs B) swoops has two smol blond boyfriends

I don't see Jeff getting with Jack tho. TBH, I don't think Jack would be down for sharing himself with someone else? But he's totally on board for Bitty being with who he wants.

So when they all get together Bitty, Jeff and Kent go have their fun while Jack sits out on the porch reading a book and getting the quiet time he needs, and then Bitty sleeps with him in the guest room at night

CJ: And on nights where Jack needs to breathe, bitty and Jeff cuddle with Kent In the middle

Yes. And it takes so long for Jack to admit that some nights he just needs to be alone because at first he feels like that's rejecting bitty? But then they have Jeff and Kent in their lives and Jack can get what he needs and so can Bitty and it's perfect

CJ: Jeff also approves of this because it's easier to lavish attention on kent with two

CJ: And overstimulated, wrecked Kenny is beautiful

And like, before they got to this point Bitty and Jack's relationship was kinda on the rocks because they were fighting all the time (surprise surprise Jack couldn't communicate what he needed)

But now it's just so peaceful? Like yeah they still fight but it's just normal couple stuff.

CJ: Swoops would probably be good at getting them to cope better

Oh yeah. He would be super no nonsense about it too.

Like just. Sit them down and be like look, you're both idiots. Figure this out, Kent and I are going to the movies.

The end <3

[shayerahol]

This is dedicated to @mosylufanfic, because if she can write that much, I can get my shit together and write something every once in a blue moon (pun intended because there is was a literal blue moon tonight the night I started writing this). Also because mosylu is the actual best.

Plot summary: Gypsy misjudges who Cisco’s best friend is.

A forewarning: this is a killervibe fic, but it’s set while Cisco and Cynthia are together.

A wrapped box came in through a breach; a large red bow was tied to it.  Barry, Cisco, Caitlin, and Iris stared at the box suspiciously. It could be a trick. The Trickster had tried the exact same thing before, not through a breach, but they had plenty of enemies...

In the end, it’s Cisco who approaches the box first. Much to his relief, the box had a tag, one that was addressed to him.

“Guys, it’s alright. It’s from Gypsy.” Barry and Iris looked relieved. So did Caitlin, but there was more to her expression than that. Some emotion Cisco couldn’t identify mingled with her relief.

That was sweet of her. Cisco opened the box; inside there are two sweatshirts. Both have the image of a cartoon model of an ionic bond with the caption, “Iconic Bond.” She knew Cisco well. He always was a fan of science and wordplay.

“She got Caitlin and me matching sweatshirts. Isn’t she the greatest?” Cisco rushed over to hand Caitlin her sweatshirt. Both were the same size: a men’s medium. Maybe it was a one size fits all situation. Cisco excitedly pulled his sweatshirt over his head. Caitlin eyed hers apprehensively.

“She really got this for me?”

“Of course she did. It says it’s for my best friend. Who else would that be?” 

Caitln’s eyes flitted to Barry for a second. No, Cisco was right. Gypsy had to know that Caitlin and Cisco were best friends. Caitlin put her sweatshirt on, too. It was large on her, but it was warm and soft. It made her feel secure, not unlike one of Cisco’s hugs. Above all, she loved that it linked them together. Lately, she had missed Cisco. She had been gone for so long, and now he was so preoccupied with Gypsy, and they both had their jobs... It just seemed like there was never enough time for them anymore.

“I know sweatshirts aren’t really your-” Cisco begins.

“No, I love it.” Caitlin interrupts. “It’s just like old times.” 

Cisco smiles.

“Just like old times,” He repeats. “Speaking of which, we should get dinner tonight and catch up. Just the two of us.”

“I’d love that.” Caitlin gives Cisco a small smile. “Movies after?”

“Of course.”

A few hours later, another breach opened at Star Labs. This time Gypsy stepped out of it. Cisco rushed to greet her.

“Hey, Babe.” Cisco’s voice was chipper. He gave her kiss on the lips. Barry and Iris were unfazed by this, but Caitlin was uncomfortable. She couldn’t understand why she would be. She was fine whenever Barry and Iris kissed, but when Cisco and Gypsy did, she always felt sick to her stomach. She tried to push the feeling aside.

“Hey. Did you get my gift?” 

“I did. Thanks, babe. It’s great to see my two best girls, no offense, Iris, getting along.” There’s the faint sound of Iris saying “none taken” in the background. Gypsy’s brow furrows.

“Best girls?” She looked over and saw Caitlin, who was still wearing her sweatshirt. “Oh, actually, I thought Barry was...” 

Barry’s eyes widened. Iris’s expression was similar, but there was more disbelief than surprise on her face. Caitlin looked down at her shirt. 

“I can take it off if it’s a problem.” She wrung her hands together nervously.

“You shouldn’t have to,” Cisco said, looking at Gypsy. Cynthia remained silent.

Just then, Harry and Wally walked in. Barry and Iris saw an opportunity and took it.

“Hey, guys, remember you wanted to show us that thing in the other room?” Barry asked.

“Yeah, I’ve been dying to see that thing. Let’s go do that.” Iris added, practically shoving Harry and Wally out.

“We should all go to Jitters. You two never hang out.”

Maybe there’s a reason for that, Caitlin thought. She and Gypsy didn’t really get along. They never had. Cisco’s offer was met with silence.

“I’ll pay.” Maybe that would sweeten the deal enough for one of them to finally respond. 

A beat passed before Cynthia broke the silence with a reluctant, “Let’s go.”

Fearing a long awkward trip there, Cisco opened a breech to an alley near Jitters. He avoided an awkward trip there, only to be met with an awkward silence in line. He looks at Gypsy, then at Caitlin. Neither of them were going to make an attempt to speak first. It felt like an eternity until the barista called them to the register.

“I can help the next person in line.” Oh, thank god.

“We’ll have one French roast with cream and 3 sugars, one ‘Killer Frost, both medium,’” Cisco ordered for himself and Caitlin. He looked at Gypsy. “And, uh...Babe?” He asked, giving up on trying to order for his girlfriend. 

“One Italian roast. Large.” She shot Cisco a death glare. Cisco paid the cashier. If he thought the wait to order was bad...

But, thankfully, this was a much smaller eternity. Their order was called. Not a moment too soon. Cisco was eager to leave the oppressive awkwardness behind... But they hadn’t bonded at all so far. If anything, things had gotten worse.

“So I think we should walk back, you know, take the scenic route. It’s a nice day,” He suggested, holding the door open for Caitlin and Cynthia, then following them through it. 

“I could change that,” Caitlin joked halfheartedly. Cisco smiled at her. At least one one of them was talking.

“You two make a cute couple,” a stranger on the street commented. There was no doubt she was talking about Caitlin and Cisco. He was walking between her and Gyspsy, he was smiling at her, and, to top it off, they were still wearing the matching sweatshirts that started this whole mess.

Caitlin choked on her drink. Cisco was too stunned to say anything. Gypsy was furious at this point.

“I’m done.” Cynthia opened a breech to go home. 

“Because I gave Caitlin the sweatshirt?”

“It’s not about her. It’s about us. You haven’t paid any attention to me today. You didn’t even correct that girl.”

“She was there and gone in five seconds!”

“Cisco, which of us is your best girl?”

“Cynthia, don’t.” His eyes darkened. There was an angry finality to his voice.

“I should have known.” Cynthia walked through the breech.

“Gypsy!” Cisco called after her. He turned to Caitlin.

“Hey, Cait, I’ll meet you back at Star Labs. I’m sorry.” He went after Gypsy. 

By the time Cisco returned it was the end of the day. Gypsy wasn’t with him. Caitlin and Iris were getting ready to leave for the night and chatting idly when Cisco got there.

Caitlin expected their plans for the evening were off. 

“Here to bid me goodnight?” Caitlin asked, betraying a hint of bitterness.

“We are going to have a great night.” He corrected her, helping her into her coat. 

“What about Gypsy? I thought you’d be gone all night.”

“Oh, she’s pissed at me.” Cisco let out a low whistle. “But she’ll get over it.”

“What did it take to make that happen?” Iris asked. Evidently Caitlin had filled her in on the details of their coffee run.

“I promised to buy her dinner...at a five star restaurant... And I promised jewelry. Real gemstones.” 

Iris raised her eyebrows. There was a streak of light and suddenly Barry was next to Iris.

“That bad, huh?” Iris sympathized. Barry put a hand on Cisco’s shoulder.

“Sorry, man.” Then he turned to Iris, eager to go home for the evening. “Ready, babe?” Iris nodded and they were gone.

“You didn’t have to do that for me.” Caitlin told Cisco. She didn’t want to cause a problem in his relationship. He looked at her and smiled slightly.

“What kind of friend would I be if I didn’t make time for my favorite girl?”

Caitlin smiled, pleasantly surprised. It was everything she wanted to hear, but never dared to hope for. She hadn’t felt that purely happy in years. 

Caitlin would never know it, but Cisco would have gone through ten fold what he had with Cynthia that day if it meant he could see Caitlin smile at him like he was the only man in the world. He wasn’t, but when she looked at him like that, he’d be damned if he wasn’t the luckiest.

[followmetoyourdoom]

Helpless // Chpt 7 - Sweet Kisses

The Runics travel to Ephedia and Mephisto comes face to face a very distraught Iris.

Read it on ao3 or below:

It took a further half hour for Praxina to finally get going and even then they were held up a further five minutes as Hugo said goodbye to his wife. To do so he floated up into the air and shouted across the courtyard, "I LOVE YOU DARLING, STAY SAFE!!"

Acherontia called back, "I LOVE YOU TOO DEAR AND I WILL DON'T WORRY. COME BACK SOON!!"

"I WILL!"

"I'LL BE WAITING!"

"GOOD B-"

Praxina made a gagging noise. "IT'S ONLY TWO DAYS FATHER!" she shouted up. "CAN WE JUST GO ALREADY?"

Acherontia waved from the window and Hugo slowly floated to the ground, blowing kisses at her. Ati made a show of catching them and blowing her own back. The charade would have continued in a never ending loop had Praxina not grabbed her father's leg and pulled him down to the ground and towards Mephisto and her bag. "Let's go, Romeo."

"BYE, MOTHER!" Mephisto called, waving at Acherontia with a smile on his face.

"GOODBYE, DEAR! MAKE SURE YOU ARE POLITE AND RESPECTFUL TO THE EPHEDIAN QUEEN!" she reminded him, "THINK BEFORE YOU TALK!"

Mephisto laughed, "WILL DO, MOTHER!"

"AND PRAXINA! MAKE SURE YOU TALK TO-"

"THE YOUNG PRINCESS OF XERIS, YES I KNOW, I WILL!" Praxina promised, vowing to at least try as she'd said she would. She owed her mother that much; after all, she just wanted her to be happy like she was.

Acherontia grinned, though none could see it. "I LOVE YOU TWO, MY BABIES."

"MOTHER!!!" the twins whined at the same time, at twenty very much offended by being called 'babies'.

"MY BABIES!!!" she shouted loudly for all to hear. "I LOVE THEM SO MUCH!!!"

The twins hid their faces, they loved their mother but she embarrassed them so easily. Regardless, they finished off their farewells, each with an I love you too, see you soon, with an additional one from Hugo.

Then the three Runics stood in a circle holding hands, belongings in the middle, and activated their magic. In a flash of green and red, they were gone.

Ati watched as their magic glows faded away and absentmindedly twiddled with the heart locket around her neck. It had been a gift from the twins for her 30th, when they were eight years old. An engraving on the outside read: Mother's Love Is the Heart of Our Family, and inside held a moving picture of the four of them together, smiling happily out of the locket. After a while, Mephisto and Hugo would giggle at each other as they pulled faces, then Praxina would roll her eyes, but join in, and Ati would laugh loudly at her family's antics. Then it looped around back to the start.

Generally speaking, Acherontia was not the sentimental type, but this locket was one of her most prized possessions. Whenever she was apart from her children or Hugo, she'd look at the contents, listen to the young free laughter, and, more than likely, shed a tear.

They grew up so fast.

One last look to where her family had disappeared in a flash of green and red, and she turned her back on the telepoint. She had some business to deal with.

Another green and red flash and Hugo and the twins arrived in Ephedia where the sun was already slowly setting. They appeared just outside the gates, making the guards that stood watch there scream and jump out of their skin. They were evidently new to the job.

"Gentlemen," Hugo said pleasantly as his children snickered behind him.

The guards scrambled to stand up straight. "W-what is your business here?" they both asked at the same time, then frowned at each other.

Hugo raised his eyebrow. Definitely new.

"Prince Mephisto," he presented, gesturing for his son to step forwards. "Of the Runic royals, here to ask for Princess Iris' hand in marriage."

Once again, the guards shared a frown.

One opened her mouth, perhaps to deny them entry, but both were startled once again as Iris herself teleported in front of them. Was this teleporting business going to be a continuous thing? They'd only taken the job because of the Queen's persuasive words.

"Princess Iris, these three were-"

"MEPHISTO!!" she flung her arms around him, twirling him around so his back was to the guards. "Watch yourself," she muttered, her voice barely a whisper, "things have changed."

Giving her a quizzical side glance, Mephisto returned her hug. Behind Iris' back, Hugo gave his son a thumbs up, while Praxina raised an eyebrow at Mephisto's expression. He conveyed his cluelessness without speaking, earning him an eyeroll. Of course he has no idea, Praxina thought, typical.

But before Mephisto could stick his tongue out at his sister, Iris pulled him back around and led him between the two still slightly nervous guards, through the gates of the castle.

Praxina sighed and, with a wave of her finger, levitated the cases through by her side.

Hugo followed shortly after, flicking a gold coin up in the air for the guards to squabble over. "Here, buy yourself something," he cheerily threw over his shoulder. "May I suggest a fresh pair of underwear to replace the ones you soiled when we arrived? Toodles!"

The guards stared at him, outraged, before eyeing each other up and diving for the coin.

Iris led the group through the castle, chatting here and there about where the amenities were, rushing slightly as she went. "The dining hall is to your right and breakfast is at 7am. Good luck catching it, I never do. But brunch is at 11am so we're good on that front. All main meals are spaced four hours apart actually, and there's often smaller ones in between; so if you're ever hungry, you won't be for long."

Both Mephisto and Hugo were very glad to here this particular news.

"If you'll follow me up here, your rooms will be in the east wing. The west wing is out of bounds to everyone except my parents, the last person that tried to test that got thrown out that window," she pointed. "Luckily I learnt how to fly pretty early on in life."

The three Runics exchanged looks. The only place out of bounds in their castle was the kitchen to the two men, otherwise they'd eat them out of house and home.

Iris stopped in front of a double door and opened them. "Your room, my love." She pushed Mephisto through the doors and gestured at the room further down the hall and the one opposite it. "Praxina, yours is on this side; King Runic, yours on the opposite." She started to back into the room, closing the doors slowly as she went. "Get settled in and we'll see you for dinner in the dining hall at 7pm. Have fun, bye bye!"

The doors slammed shut, leaving father and daughter with many questions. Which they voiced at the same time.

"I guess they're not wasting time then."

"Something isn't quite right here-" Praxina's eyes went wide and she slowly turned to Hugo. "Father! Ew, gross. My room is right next door and- oh gods no." She shook the disturbing images from her head. "Just. No."

Hugo raised an eyebrow, "I meant getting to know one another face to face."

"Oh." Praxina turned red. She promptly hurried to her room, quickly separating up their luggage and dumping it in front of each person's door. "Haha, so did I of course yes," she lied, fumbling with the door. "Well I think the Princess has an excellent point, time to get settle in." She finally got the door open. "Good bye Father," she said rather shrilly, "see you next year!" And with that she was gone.

Shaking his head, Hugo walked into his own room, actually taking his luggage with him into the room, unlike his two children.

As he turned to close the door, he noticed Praxina's arm snake out of her room to grab the one bag she'd brought. "Forgetful when stressed," he murmured to himself, "just like her mother."

Meanwhile, Mephisto's was still left untouched in front of his bedroom door.

On the other side however, the Runic Prince was hastily trying to calm Iris as she paced frantically.

"-gone missing and the council is questioning me and I do not know what to do! I am meant to be the planet's Queen soon and I have no idea what I am doing or how things are going to turn out or-"

"Shuuush, it's okay, it's okay." He gently grabbed her shoulders and sat her down on the bed next to him. "Now, tell me again - slowly - what happened."

Iris nodded and twiddled her thumbs. "Javina, that is the Voltan Queen's sister. Her…" she frowned and tried to remember how many siblings Queen Emilia had. "I think her third sister? I am unclear on the number. But yes, Javina, she has gone missing. Just poof! Into thin air."

Mephisto put two and two together. "And the council expects you to find her."

"In a way… Or at least they want me to do it to prove myself, or to make up for the You Know What. However there are no clues, she was a delight to be around so no enemies, and the Voltans already looked around for her in their kingdom - Auriana is devastated, she was her favourite aunt. But, if you ask me, she probably got lost in the forest and was attacked by a pack of beezdingles; but I cannot say that of course."

"And Auriana is…?"

Iris blinked. "Oh. Of course, you do not know. Auriana is Emilia's daughter, fourth in line, and she is also one of my best friends."

"Alongside Talia," Mephisto put in, happy to know this detail.

"Yes." At this Iris' eyes seemed to well up. "Talia, who is still nursing her mother because of what I did… Both of my best friends need me and," she sniffed as she felt a lump at her throat and tears finishing forming, "and there is nothing I can do." She broke down completely, crying into her hands until Mephisto pulled her towards him, letting her cry on his shirt. "I'm useless," she whimpered.

Mephisto gently lifted her chin up and wiped her eyes. "Hey… look at me. You are not useless. Whoever made you feel like that is wrong. They are wrong and I will put them right-"

Loud shouting outside the window cut him off.

"Here is your chance," Iris said dully, head dropping once more and letting her pink locks cover face.

Mephisto frowned and stood up, marching to the window and peeking out through the curtains. His features contorted to a snarl as he saw a group of Ephedians with torches and crystal weapons marching towards the castle, their eyes full of fury.

"Iris…" Mephisto said steadily, fists clenched, "why is there a mob outside?"

"They are early today…" was Iris' only reply.

Another glance showed they were heading for another part of the castle - the royal quarters. "What do they want? Why didn't you tell me about this in your letters? How often are they here?"

Iris took a deep breath and joined Mephisto at the window, staring out at the flickering fire meant to burn her. "They want the council to take away my right to the throne, they say I am a danger to everyone and thus should not be queen. I did not tell you because I knew you would act as such, I did not want to worry you." She turned her back on her people, her enemies. "And they are here every night, Mephisto, okay? Every. Single. Night."

Mephisto's heart broke as she began sobbing again and he rushed to take her into his arms, hugging her tightly.

"I do not know how much more of this I can take," she mumbled into his shirt. "Maybe they are right… maybe giving up the throne would be best for everyone."

"No," Mephisto said firmly. "They are not right." He swayed gently, stroking her hair. "You are a wonderful, sweet, and kind person. You've made mistakes, but then so does everyone else. I know you'll make an excellent queen, the best queen there's ever been."

Iris smiled sadly, "You know, some might see that as treason against my mother."

He pulled back to look at her. "I don't care." Then he lead Iris to the bed, gently sat her down, and walked back over to the window, opening it wide. "DID YOU HEAR THAT?" he shouted out to the crowd, drawing the attention of a few. "MY FUTURE WIFE IS GOING TO BE THE BEST QUEEN EVER, THE BEST QUEEN ON THE ENTIRETY OF EPHEDIA! AND IF YOU LOT CAN'T SEE THAT THEN I FEEL SORRY FOR YOU!"

He slammed the window and curtains shut and nodded his head smugly, and Iris couldn't help the giggle that escaped her mouth.

How had she ever doubted her love for him?

"And you shall be the best king," she whispered, taking his hand as he joined her on the edge of the bed, "my future husband."

Mephisto's heart fluttered as it had when he'd written those same words in his letter and he placed a gentle kiss to her fingers. A tiny gasp from Iris and he kissed her wrist, then the inside of her elbow, her shoulder, her neck, her cheek…

Her lips.

The latter came oh so hesitantly and with a feather's pressure, just a mere brush of their lips, nothing more, nothing less. A ghost of a kiss.

Their first.

Iris sighed happily and leant her forehead against his, her thumb brushing his bottom lip as her hand cupped his face.

Mephisto leaned into her touch. "I've dreamt about this you know," he whispered, "kissing you, holding you close, loving you until my heart overflows."

Words failing her, Iris pressed her mouth against his once more, harder this time, her hand shifting behind his neck to grab his hair so she could pull him closer, moving her legs around so she was kneeling up on the bed, gaining a height advantage over Mephisto for once.

Testing the waters, Mephisto parted his lips and Iris followed suit.

Their kiss turned slowly and steady once again as they experimented and explored, finding out what worked for the both of them.

Breathing became heavy and lustful, and hands roamed sneakily.

Iris nipped at his lip and Mephisto felt a pleasant shiver run down his spine. With a low growl he picked Iris up and moved her further onto the bed, diving down after her and pressing his face against her neck, breathing her in and kissing from her her ear to her collarbone leaving faintly cold patches of skin. Then he continued his path downwards.

It wasn't until Iris started moaning in pleasure that there was a knock on the wall behind the bed frame, quickly followed by: "YOU HAD BETTER NOT BE DOING WHAT I THINK YOU ARE DOING. NOT WHEN I AM RIGHT HERE."

Mephisto sighed heavily, hanging his head in annoyance. "Maybe try NOT LISTENING IN!"

"I HAVE. YOU DO NOT MAKE IT EASY."

Iris pulled away from Mephisto. "Maybe we should stop, we do not want to get ahead of ourselves after all."

"Very well," he conceded, sitting up away from Iris, then glared at the offending wall.

"Although…" she murmured, not quite ready to stop yet, "on the other hand we cou-" Iris didn't even get to finish her sentence before Mephisto was kissing her again, pinning her to the wall.

On the other side of it, Praxina was flushed beetroot red. The sibling embarrassment was big enough to overcome even her desire to be the one to make Iris moan like that.

A desire she pushed from her mind as soon as it reared its head.

Let it go, Praxina, she told herself sternly, pacing the room, for Mephisto's sake let it go.

Eventually she couldn't stand to be alone with her thoughts or the noises from next door and went to knock on her father's door, checking to make sure he'd gotten settled in alright. After a few moments of silence, Praxina took it upon herself to open the door and raised her eyebrows at what she found. "Seriously, Father, already?"

Hugo was sat at the comically small vanity, tiny feather quill in hand and a piece of paper full of pretty cursive writing, My Darling Queen Ati written lovingly at the very top.

He looked up at Praxina as she leant against the door frame, then looked back to his letter. "I miss her," he said quietly, pouting a little. "And your mother greatly enjoys my letters whenever we are apart I'll have you know."

Praxina shook her head, but she was smiling. Her parents were so lucky they had each other and loved each other as much as they did. Her mind drifted to the Xerin Princess she was meant to meet. "Father… do you know where the infirmary is here?" She shuffled her feet, "Or if the Xerins are still here? And stop grinning!" Praxina spluttered as she saw the corners of her father's mouth twitch.

"I'm not grinning!" he said, grinning. "I'm just happy you're making an attempt."

"I always make an attempt," she muttered.

Hugo pressed his lips together to stop himself from grinning anymore. "Usually not while blushing like a teenager," he quipped.

Praxina groaned and turned to face the door. "Father!!!" She began slowly banging her head against the door until Hugo stood up and gently pulled her around to face her, moving her hair out of her eyes.

"I'm just saying, it's nice to see you interested. But no, I do not know where the infirmary is. Ask Princess Iris."

"Iris is… busy doing something."

Hugo frowned. "Maybe ask your brother then?"

"That's who she's doing," she deadpanned, looking anywhere but her father.

Blinking rapidly, Hugo did a double take. Then, "Well that was fast." He nodded wisely, rubbing his chin and the tiny patch of green hair there. "I have taught him well."

"FATHER!"

"I guess we were both right, you did say-"

Praxina made a noise at the back of her throat. "Please do not tell me what I said. I… I shall have a wander round to find the infirmary. Continue with you soppy letter."

"No no," Hugo insisted, "I'll come with you."

And although she was very tempted to ask must you?, she accepted his company and waited for him to roll his letter up and stick it underneath the bundle of clothes stacked in his suitcase. More than likely he wasn't going to unpack before they went back home.

As they left the room, Iris and Mephisto appeared across the hall; the latter picked up his case and went back in to drop it off, while the former ushered Praxina and her father over.

"There is to be a royal banquet in a few minutes," Iris informed them, subtly patting down her skirt, "the Queen has requested everyone be in attendance." She paused for a moment, then her eyes went wide. "My apologies, but I have only just realised. King Runic where-"

"Call me Hugo, Your Highness," he interjected, smiling warmly.

Iris nodded. "Then you can call me Iris." She cleared her throat. "But yes, exclude my obliviousness, but I have only just noticed the lack of Queen Acherontia. Is she arriving later? Tomorrow perhaps?"

Hugo peered at Mephisto as he rejoined the group. "You didn't tell her about your mother?"

"I uh, I got distracted."

"Ah." Hugo fought to hide his snicker, especially when Mephisto glared at Praxina, recognising the traitor immediately, furious she'd told their father.

But Iris was too focused to be embarrassed. Besides, they'd only kissed, despite what Praxina thought she'd heard. Well, mainly only kissed. Iris cleared her throat, stopping the silent conversation going on between the twins. "Acherontia has not gone missing, has she?"

"Oh no no, Mother is fine," Mephisto hurried to reassure her, knowing another missing royal was the last thing she needed. "No, she's just staying in Runic."

"Ah I see," Iris bit her lip. "That… complicates matters." She turned to Praxina, knowing what she was about to ask would be a lot, all things considered. But there was no other way. "You will have to officiate Mephisto's proposal in that case. Not the marriage," she hurriedly added, "my mother attends to that. But you will have to act in place of your mother when Mephisto puts his proposal forward to my mother."

Hugo furrowed his brow, "Are you sure I can't-"

Iris shook her head. "I am sorry Ki- Hugo. But it must be either the queen or her next in line."

"Very well," Praxina said gruffly, determined to be professional about this. She had stood in for her mother before, she could do it again. This was practise for when she became queen after all, it would be useful for her.

Iris smiled in thanks, and Praxina cleared her throat. "Is there any chance we could visit the Xerin Princess after dinner?"

"Talia will be at dinner," Iris said slowly, "as well as Laina, the Xerin Queen."

And it was going to be awkward.

[hah-studios]

The Beauty of a Beast Part 3

In celebration of the upcoming Disney remake and for one of the most timeless love stories ever told: mixing three different adaptions and adding my own twists. A beautiful and strong-willed girl must pull a prince from a monster, a castle from its curse, she must do the impossible and find a way to love a beast.

The final part of my Beauty and the Beast story (and just in time!) and I hope you all enjoyed it!

Usually when Gaston spent the night at the pub it became a place to celebrate how amazing he was. Nowadays it was a place to pity him.

Belle’s rejection had wounded his ego no doubt, but what hurt more was that he couldn’t try to win her over, the girl having disappeared the night of his proposal. Her brother and sisters coming to the pub to try and appease him, stroking his damaged ego and telling him how Belle had just been surprised, that she would come around with time, just be patient with her. With a few drinks in him Gaston was just recollecting his resolve to pursue the girl when suddenly Maurice and Nicholas came into the pub. The old man had been trembling, eyes wide and glassy while his son held his arm and led him to their other siblings.

“Father!” Tristan gasped. “Where have you been?”

Maurice’s voice was hollow, “Belle…it took Belle.” He grabbed Tristan’s arms, “Belle was taken by a beast!”

           Gaston watched silently while Maurice’s children tried to calm their hysterical father down. Not even Nicholas believed what he was saying. But the young man did explain how Belle had gone to look for Maurice-and she hadn’t returned.

Gaston had led a small search party out, exploring the outskirts of the forest while Maurice kept insisting that they had to go deeper, that the beast’s castle was in the darkest part of the forest. Gaston had rolled his eyes at the man, there was no way a fragile thing like Belle would have gone that far into such a foreboding forest. No, after a few days everyone except for the old man had decided that Belle ran away, and everyone had their own theory on why she did.

“She was such an adventurous soul, she wanted to put some miles behind her.” “She actually hated her new country life; she went to find a way to regain riches.”

“She didn’t want to marry Gaston.”

That last theory always soured his throat and made him throw back another glass of beer. He sat before the roaring fireplace of the pub, antlers from his many kills hanging above the flames, usually a sight of pride they did not ease his soul tonight. But despite his melancholic drinking he had noticed a group of unfamiliar men, travelers, hogging one table to themselves. They had come in whispering but after a few pints their whispers became loud enough for Gaston to overhear.

“I ain’t goin’ back there!” The man who spoke was as white as a sheet, holding a grubby hand to his stomach.

One of his friends turned to him, “But imagine how much money we could get with a kill that big.” Talk of hunting piqued Gaston’s interest.

“Like we could kill it! It nearly ripped my intestines out! And it probably ate that girl we found!”

Gaston turned in his chair to get a better look at the men. Their clothes were ratty, hair a tangled mess and they were swaying in their seats from the effects of the alcohol. But the fear in their eyes was far too genuine. There was something out in those woods, and apparently not only it attacked them but also a girl who was out in the woods…

Gaston stood up to join them, lips curling into a smile.

.

             When the Beast arrived at the dinning room Belle’s smile was full of relief, standing up she met him halfway. “I want to apologize again,” she explained, expression morphing from relieved to stricken. And while he knew it was awful he couldn’t help but like how worried she was. She really cared for him…

           But he still assured her, “I’m fine.” He waited for her shoulders to relax before tilting his head to her. “Could I ask something of you?”

Her eyes glittered with curiosity and he took a moment to admire how large her eyes were, how warm the amber looked, matching her dark skin tone. “What do you need?” “I’d like to-to have a dance with you.”

He could practically taste her surprise, no need for the arched brows and parted lips. Belle looked him over as if she wasn’t completely sure this was her Montague. “In the ballroom?” she clarified softly.

He nodded, self-doubt clogging his throat and making words stick to his tongue, so he only nodded a second time. And slowly, oh so slowly, a smile curved Belle’s lips and- how could one person be so beautiful? “You want to dance with me?” The elated way in which she spoke did not slow down the Beast’s heart. He finally wrestled words out of his mouth, “I-I am not a very…coordinated dancer. But I’d like to try. With you.”

Her expression, warm and sincere, felt like an embrace. “Lucky for you I was raised by a socialite and know many a dance moves.” She held his hands in hers, so different yet so fitting. “Let’s dance tomorrow; we can make a whole evening out of it.”

           The Beast had to swallow a large level of pride to ask Renard and Plumes to help get him ready for the evening. The fox and owl gushed over him, instructing him on how to groom his fur, help him find the perfect outfit. All the while telling him how happy they were for him.

“She was worried for you last night, you know,” Renard told him while hunting through the walk in closet. “That’s why we went looking for you.” The Beast examined his reflection in the mirror, something he hadn’t done in a long, long time. Even with his fur well maintained now he had no idea what that girl saw in him, however he wasn’t going to take back his invitation to dance. Instead he looked to Plumes who sat atop the mirror, “Is it bad that I was happy she was so worried for me?”

The owl blinked at him. “That means you care what she thinks of you.” Renard trotted out of the closet, “And that’s never happened before! Not even when you were human!”

           Plumes spoke while the Beast pulled on the outfit Renard had chosen. “Speaking of, tonight you must let your feelings for her known.” The intensity of his eyes reminded the Beast that the rose only had so many petals left.

Renard was nodding in agreement, “You can’t deny it. You care for the girl and tonight after the dance is a perfect time to tell her!”

“It’s time to break the curse,” Plumes added.

The Beast nodded, his chest swimming with feelings of anxiety, excitement, and something he didn’t think he would ever feel again…  

 .

             Belle spun in front of the mirror once again, going through so many dresses, trying to find the right one. “This is silly,” she remarked when she found herself not overly fond of an eggshell blue number. “I’ve never cared so much over what dress I wear. That was my sisters’ job.” Lapin and Chat sat on her bed and the two exchanged a knowing look before the rabbit spoke, “Maybe that’s because you never had anyone you wanted to impress.”

Belle’s cheeks turned hot and she ran her fingers through her hair, an awkward bubble of laughter bursting past her lips. “You think so?”

Chat purred, “I’m sure the master is getting himself worked up into a right proper tizzy as well. He really wants to impress you.”

Belle smiled softly at the words, her heart picking up its pace. She did another spin, this time the eggshell blue was painted over by a shining, golden yellow and she couldn’t help a soft gasp. The bodice was a simple design, but it had wrapped off-the-shoulder sleeves along with matching yellow opera gloves, the skirt itself decorated with flowing yellow lace. Her hair was pulled up into a bun with ebony locks trailing down her neck in beautiful waves. Instantly she knew this was her dress.

The cat and rabbit cooed appreciatively, insisting she looked absolutely stunning and that the master wouldn’t be able to lift his chin off the floor. Belle giggled at their reaction, her stomach fluttering with butterflies, some anxious, some excited, and some trembling with a feeling she had feared she’d never know…

 .

             “Look at you,” Belle smirked. She had walked into the dining room to see the Beast in a blue suit, the tail coats and lining dashed in gold and a puffy white ascot hanging from his neck. She smiled at him, “Sir Montague you can clean up nice.”

He let out a breath of laughter and shrugged, “I have my moments. Renard and Plumes, standing behind him, loudly cleared their throats. “My servants were a big help.”

Belle stepped forward, holding the skirts of her dress in her hands and she spun a small circle before him. “Do you like the dress?” She didn’t mention it was the eighth dress she tried on.

“Of course,” he smiled at her. “You’re wearing it.”

Blushing pleasantly Belle accepted the seat he pulled out for her. The two usually sat across from each other but tonight they sat next to each other, elbows touching as they enjoyed the meal and company.

“Your fur is practically shining,” Belle told him, noticing the shine in his gray fur. The Beast looked to his paw, admiring the slick fur. “I haven’t fixed myself up in…in a long time,” he admitted.

“I haven’t dress up in a while either,” Belle replied, running her fingers across her finely done hair. “I always preferred reading.” He nodded in agreement. “Yes, but doing this once in a while…it would be nice.” “I agree,” she said, a spoonful of soup passed her ruby lips. “We could do it once a month.”

The fact that they had that kind of time, that he could spend years with her…spend the rest of his life with her…

The rose is wilting.

           The cold reminder brought his anxiety and self-doubt back, he swallowed against it. “Belle…” he tired to find the next words. “I wanted to…” He could find nothing.

Belle guessed his next words, it was an incorrect guess. “You wanted to go ahead and dance?” He wilted slightly. “Yes.”

           Belle took his hand and led him to the ballroom, the room having been polished to perfection by the staff. The night sky was clear and to perfected by the staff. The night sky was clear and beautiful and the chandeliers lit, the light falling them and dazzling across their fur and skin. Renard and friends head slipped in after the two, making themselves comfortable at the piano. Meanwhile Belle pulled the Beast onto the heart of the dance floor. And Belle found it ironic that what felt like a life time ago, she had hated the thought of being in the same room with him. But now, now she pulled his paw forward to hold her waist, her hand lying on his shoulder. Their fingers interlocked and the Beast’s blue eyes trailed to their hands, something unsure played across his face. Belle quickly called out, “Chat! Play me something.”

           A few seconds later a sweet tune filled the room and the Beast turned his attention back to his dancing partner. Belle’s voice was professional and serious, but the twinkle in her eyes ruined the effect. “We’ll start with something easy. We’ll form a box.” When his brow furrowed she continued, “Just follow my lead.” She pulled him forward, moved to the right, pushed him back, and then to the left. They repeated the steps a few more times and Belle saw realization spark in his eyes, their feet were forming a box. When they had stepped into rhythm he pulled his gaze away from the floor to her. She smiled at him, “You are a natural.” He returned her grin. “Now let’s try a spin.”            As the night went on the Beast showed a rusty but natural talent for dancing, mastering Belle’s lessons fairly easily. It made her wonder about the past he refused to share. But her curiosity was short-lived, instead her attention focused on the dance. She focused on the way his paws held her, large but gentle, in the way her hair flew across her shoulder, in the delighted shine in his twilight eyes and the wonderful way her heart wanted to burst. The ballroom swirled around her, stars and candles and marble. She felt warm, and energetic, and happy.

The dancing was coming to an end when suddenly the Beast grabbed her waist with both paws and lifted her into the air. Belle let out a shock of surprised laughter as he spun her through the air, but he only spun twice before tripping over his own feet, sending them both to the floor. The Beast had landed on his back; Belle sprawled on his chest and both laughing.

“Are you okay?” he chuckled, eyes glowing up at her.

She grinned, “I could ask you the same thing. Next time make sure you have solid footwork before trying that again.”

“Promise,” he smiled, sitting up.

Belle let out a breath, “Want to take a break? I’d like to walk out to the balcony.”

He nodded quickly and helped her to her feet. As they walked to the balcony Belle noticed the delighted and encouraging smiles of the staff.

           The night air was cool and crisp, and Belle happily breathed it in. She stepped into the moonlight, leaning her arms on the stone railing as she gazed out at the gardens and the forests beyond.

She felt his eyes warm her back and she spoke without turning back, “A gentleman doesn’t stare, Montague.”

He snorted, “Why does everyone keep insisting I’m a gentleman?”

She looked over her shoulder, smile widening, “Because we all know there’s a heart of a gentleman under all that fur.”

He didn’t roll his eyes at that, instead looking at her with sincerity. “Come here, I have something for you.” When Belle was before him he lifted her hand, palm up, and placed something smooth and cold in her hand. Belle’s eyes widened-it was her father’s locket. The Beast still held her hand, “I shouldn’t have kept it, I’m sorry…I was so awful to you.” Belle met his eyes, “Something tells me someone was awful to you as well.” His eyes grew glassy.

“I think…” she breathed thoughtfully. “I think we both needed someone, someone who can understand us.” Her other hand covered his paw, “I’ve never met someone who understood me…not like you.”

His throat bobbed and his words were shaky, “I feel the same.”

           Belle leaned her head against his chest, followed by the rest of her body. He wrapped a comforting arm around her and Belle spent a moment listening to his steady heartbeat that still felt like it was fluttering. For a moment Belle was completely content.

Then she clenched her hand around the locket.

           “Belle.” The Beast’s breath made her hair shift. “Are you happy here?”

“Of course I am,” she breathed.

However he heard the tinge of melancholy. He pulled back slightly to meet her eyes. “What’s wrong?”

“I…” she didn’t know how to say it without breaking his heart. “I want to see my family again.”

As expected his expression grew painful and his paw dropped from her back. “Oh.”

“Please don’t be upset,” she begged.

“I’m not.”

“I truly adore it here, I do, but I’m still reminded of them…and I can’t help but hate how I didn’t properly say goodbye.” “Belle,” his soft, understanding tone silenced her. “Do you want to visit them?”

Her eyes nearly fell out of her skull, “You’d-you’d let me go?” He stepped forward and his gaze was intense. “You stopped being my prisoner a long time ago. If you want to leave I will not stop you.” His eyes softened and he swallowed, “But I would be very happy if you came back.”

Belle took his hand in both of hers, “Just give me a week. Just one week to see them.”

His insecure expression made her heart ache. “Then you’ll come back?”

She hoped her smile showed her sincerity, “I promise.”

His smile was just as genuine, “Best get ready.” She let out a delighted laugh and dashed off; she was out of earshot and didn’t hear his next whisper: “Farewell, Belle.”

 .

             The Beast and his servants sat in the room where he had first met Maurice, first bonded with Belle. Said girl had just left, giving them a swift goodbye and a renewed promise.

“Well I think it was very sweet to let her see her family,” Lapin said. She laid next to Renard, they along with Chat were sprawled before the small fire. Plumes, roosting on top of the chair, hooted. “We don’t have that kind of time! The rose will finish wilting any day now.”

Chat was determined to stay optimistic, “She’ll return soon, it’ll be fine.”

But then the Beast let out a sigh, “She won’t be coming back.”

Frightened eyes stared at him. “Why would you say that?” Renard demanded.

“Because she loves her family.” Plumes had puffed up his feathers in anger, making him twice his size. “The why did you let her go?!” The Beast’s chest twisted in agony, “Because I love her.”

 .

             Belle, accompanied by Philippe and Darling arrived home at daybreak. Dismounting from Philippe she walked out of the woods, her house in sight. Walking closer she saw a familiar shape out in the yard, crouching by a broken wagon wheel. Maurice stood up straight and went stock still when he spotted Belle.

Rising tears blurred her vision and she smiled. “Papa…” She broke into a run, “Papa!”

Her embrace knocked him to the ground; tears streamed down their face as they kissed each other’s cheeks and sobbed how they had missed each other.

Nicholas’ voice suddenly spoke up, “Father, what’s-BELLE!”

A moment later Nicholas appeared by their side, wrapping his arms around his sister. A few seconds later Tristan, Susan, and Lucy joined them, and to Belle’s surprise they were just as happy to see her. Belle’s family pulled her into a large family hug, wet with tears and warm with laughter.

 .

             News in this town spread faster than wild fire in a dry forest so Belle had been home for only a few minutes when the news reached the pub where Gaston loitered. He was still with the group of men who had explained there was a giant wolfish monster stalking the forest and that the girl they had seen was clearly Belle. LeFou, who sat next to Gaston, believed they were making it up.

Hearing the girl was not only alive but back the gears in Gaston’s head started to turn. “Boys,” he turned to LeFou and the gang. “Let’s go see what my future wife has to say about this monster.”

 .

             “You didn’t have to run away to prove a point, Belle,” Tristan was saying.

She sat at the table with her family, all enjoying a cup of warm tea. Her older brother’s words made Nicholas scowl at the man. “You were trying to make her marry a man she didn’t love!” To Tristan and the twins’ credit they did look guilty.

“I wanted to find Papa,” Belle explained.

Maurice looked to his daughter, “How did you escape Belle?” Her siblings’ interest instantly piqued, obviously their father had told them about the Beast.

Belle looked to her father. “He let me go.”

Jaws dropped to the table and Maurice looked at his daughter as if he didn’t believe her. “That horrible beast let you go?” “He’s not horrible,” Belle insisted, just managing to not raise her voice. “He’s changed. He knew I missed you all and let me come home. He even gave me your locket back.” She decided to wait to tell them she would only be here for a week. Even if the Beast hadn’t asked her to come home she would still return to him. She loved her family but she also-

Nicholas interrupted her thoughts. “Belle…your bag is shaking.” They turned around to see Belle’s knap sack (she had taken it with her to carry small amounts of food and Maurice’s locket) shaking to and fro before suddenly a fluffy white head popped out.

“Chaton!” Belle smiled.

The kitten returned her smile, “Belle!”

Her sisters shrieked when the kitten spoke but Belle had stood up and walked over to Chaton to pick her up, “You little stowaway.” She turned to her family, “Everyone, this is my friend Chaton.”

Maurice smiled at the kitten as she was placed on the table, “I remember you.”

Nicholas looked absolutely entranced by the talking cat while Tristan and the twins looked convinced they were dreaming. The kitten greeted all of them in turn before turning back to Belle. “Why did you leave Belle? I thought you liked us.” Belle’s heart ached, “Of course I like you. But I missed my family.”

Chaton pouted, “Why didn’t you just bring your family to the castle?”

“With the beast?” Tristan scowled.

The kitten glared up at him, “He’s very nice now! And he loves Belle, he’d let you move in!”

Belle blushed, embarrassed by the kitten’s blunt words. But luckily a distraction came as the sound of Chaton’s rumbling stomach. “I’m hungry, is there anything to eat?”

           The day passed quickly with Belle and Chaton telling Maurice and the others what castle life was like, though Maurice and Nicholas were the only ones to accept that there was just a castle in the woods filled with talking animals. While they talked Chaton showed obvious favoritism to Nicholas, sitting in his lap and purring as he rubbed her head. When they weren’t talking about how Belle’s time had been they had talked how her family had coped. Life had more or less stayed the same despite her absence, still having to work and still bored out of their minds. Susan mentioned how Gaston had been in a state of melancholy after she left and had even led a rescue party. Belle had rolled her eyes and said he had done it because he hated to lose-which was true. And to Belle’s relief no one tried to defend the man.

But say the devil’s name and he will appear. When night fell there was a knock on the door. While Belle and her sisters knitted, Nicholas played with Chaton, and Tristan tended the fire, Maurice opened the door. His words instantly sent Belle on edge: “What are you doing here?”

“I heard Belle had returned.” It was Gaston.

Belle stood up, fright making her skin chill. Her siblings stood up as well, Nicholas and the twins standing before her protectively and it eased Belle’s fear slightly.

“What’s wrong?” Chaton’s voice had grown scared, burrowing into Nicholas’ palm.

“It’s going to be fine,” Nicholas whispered to her. “Just stay quiet.”

Maurice was still talking to Gaston, blocking the door, “Where did you heart that?”

Belle could imagine the egotistical man waving his hand dismissively, “You know how gossip is in this town. Is it true?”

Maurice was silent for a few moments but ultimately decided he couldn’t hide his daughter forever. “Yes.”

“Excellent!” Gaston’s voice smiled. “May I see her?” ”Her opinion of you hasn’t changed,” Maurice snapped. Belle had to bite her lip to keep from laughing; she obviously got her attitude from her adopted father.

But Gaston wasn’t deterred in the slightest. “Not yet, but I’m here not to propose but to ask her some questions. I know of the monster that had attacked her.”

Those words sent Belle past her siblings and her father, standing in front of Maurice and glaring up at the smug chiseled face of her worst enemy. “What are you talking about?”

His smile didn’t wane, “Belle, darling. Thank heavens you’re all right. I heard that you had been attacked by a ferocious beast.”

Her brow furrowed, “Who told you that?”

Gaston stepped to the side to see that behind him was a whole mob of townspeople; they were carrying torches and pitchforks and looked frightened and furious. In the front of the crowd was LeFou and…Belle’s heart dropped. The bandits that had attacked her were there, and by the leering looks they remembered her all too well. Belle took a step back, grabbing her father’s arm for courage. She turned her eyes back to Gaston, “Why are you listening to them?”

“We’ve all been listening to them,” Gaston waved his arm to indicate the mob, “We’ve seen the damage such a monster can do.” Gaston looked to one of the bandits and he lifted his shirt, across the flesh of his stomach were five long red welts, claw marks. Belle took a small moment to enjoy the satisfaction that the Beast had nearly ripped the disgusting pig’s guts out. But then she had to come back to reality and how, to all these people, and maybe even her family, this was a poor man who had nearly been killed by a savage monster.

           Belle released her father’s arm and stepped forward, her eyes glared at the group of bandits, wishing she could set them ablaze. “The only monsters are only those bandits!” She pointed to the group of men. “They attacked me in the woods, would’ve killed me or worse. Montague saved me!”

Her words were meant with silence. And then Gaston curled his lip at her, “Montague?”

Belle looked up at him, holding her ground and raising her chin. “It’s what I call him. You’re nothing but a filthy liar, Gaston. He’s kind and gentle and my friend.”

He scowled at her and for a moment he looked as ugly as his personality. “If I didn’t know better Belle I’d think you had feelings for this monster.”

Belle bared her teeth, “He’s not the monster Gaston you are!” Her words got surprised murmurs from the crowd, Belle’s family staying silent.

Gaston stared at Belle with hate flaring in his eyes and she saw she had finally got it through his thick skull that she would never be his. But what she forgot was Gaston’s mindset: if he can’t have Belle no one would.

           He turned his back to her and addressed the mob. “It’s worse than I thought. Instead of killing her this beast has turned her against us! This creature kidnapped her own father and she is defending him! For all we know she had told him all about our village, she might be planning to help it come and kill us all!”

Gaston controlled the mob like a puppeteer, pulling their strings and turning their heads to share frightened words, widened their eyes and opened their ears to him. “But not if we kill him first!”

No. The crowd erupted into bloodthirsty cheers. Gaston stalked down the steps of the house Belle ran after him, leaping on his back and crawling at his shirt. “Don’t you dare!” But when Gaston got over his surprise from her attack he easily peeled her off him and pushed her roughly back to her house, Maurice reached out and grabbed her before she fell to the ground.

Tristan and the twins followed after their father, Nicholas and Chaton no where in sight. “That was uncalled for, Gaston!” Tristan snarled at the man, Susan and Lucy checking on their sisters. Gaston placed his level gaze on Belle’s brother for a few seconds, but then he snarled right back. “You’re either with us or against us.”

And despite Belle’s growing fear she felt a deep love for Tristan and the twins when they protectively stepped in front of her, having finally see the horrible man Gaston was and taking their sister’s side. But her happiness was very shortly lived, Gaston flicking his wrist at the mob and several men stepped forward and grabbed the family, dragging them kicking and screaming to the barn.

“Don’t listen to him!” Belle begged of the people. “I know you’re scared but the Beast would never hurt any of you!” But her pleas fell on deaf ears and the family was tossed into the barn, using a log of wood to bar the doors from outside.

Belle had jumped up as soon as she was released and slammed her fists on the splintered wood of the door, even when she felt splinters dig into her flesh she didn’t stop pounding against the door, not until Maurice pulled her back.

“Belle, stop it,” he begged. “You can’t open the door that way.”

That fact brought her to tears; she slid down to her knees and covered her face with her hands, “It’s my fault! It’s all my fault!” I’m so sorry!

 .

             Chat’s fur was bristled. Chaton was playing hide and seek but her mother was in no mood to play along. She sat in the library with Renard, Plumes, and Lapin, all sprawled around the room and quiet. The master had vanished to the west wing and hadn’t returned.

The rose only had one petal left, and the servants were accepting the fact they would never be human again.

Renard’s voice was soft and sad, a tone he had never used before: “Maybe it would’ve been better if she had never come at all.”

Chat tried to think of something but any comfort would feel so empty. Plumes feathers were practically drooping and Lapin’s nose wiggled, looking around at the three animals as if they had the answer. She looked ready to hop out of the room when suddenly her long ears shot up, eyes moving to the window. “Someone’s coming.”

A moment later all their heads lifted, hearing the distant sound of people. “It couldn’t be…” Renard breathed, rushing to the window with the others on his tail.

“Is it her?” Chat asked, pressing her paws against the window glass.

The four animals’ jaws drop when they saw it was a mob, torches burning against the night sky and heading straight for the gate.

Renard snarled, “Intruders!”

“What do we do?” Lapin asked frightfully, “They’re going to storm the castle!” Renard dropped to all fours, “Not while I’m still standing! Human or not this is our home and we’ll defend it!” He flexed his sharp claws and bared his teeth, “Let’s put these to good use.”

 .

             Belle and her family were trying to figure out if they could dig their way under the door when a familiar voice called out from the other side. “Belle! Father!”

“Nicholas!” they all cried out. In all the chaos Belle had forgotten he had vanished during the confrontation.

“I went upstairs to hide Chaton when Gaston arrived,” he explained from the other side of the door, he grunted as he started to remove the log. “Then I heard the shouting and thought it was better to stay hidden for a while.” Chaton’s voice spoke up, “Good thing we did! Now we can get you!”

The log fell to the ground with a  thud and a moment later the barn doors swung open, moonlight outlining Nicholas, Chaton riding on his shoulder. Belle was already pulling Darling to the door, pulling herself up on the mare and grabbing onto her mane. “I need to get to the Beast,” she told her family. “I need to warn him.” “You can’t go alone!” Maurice told her. “I’ll go with you.” Tristan stepped forward and grabbed Maurice’s shoulder, “Father you stay with Susan and Lucy, me and Nicholas will follow Belle on Philippe.” Maurice still looked unsure but Belle was done waiting. She had to get back.

Kicking Darling the mare whinnied and darted to the forest, her brothers scrambling to mount onto Philippe and follow after her. As the dark woods swallowed Belle and Darling the girl made a deal with the heavens above. Just let him be okay when I get there and I’ll tell him what I should’ve told him before I left.

 .

                         Chat had run to the west wing to tell their master. He sat before the rose, blue eyes blank. “Pardon me, sir-”

He was already shaking his head, “Leave me in peace.”

“But, sir, the castle is under attack!” The rest of the staff had already gone to the first floor to prepare for the attack.

The Beast released a breath that was both sarcastic yet painful. “Of course it is…” He closed his eyes and looked to wilt right before the cat’s eyes. “Let them come. None of it matters anymore. Nothing matters anymore.”

Chat looked at him helplessly for a few moments before shaking her head and dashing back to the others. She found them blocking the front doors, the wood shaking on its hinges. She hurried downstairs and pressed her paws against an empty square of wood, vibrations running up her paws, “What’s going on!?” “Then chopped down a tree and are trying to break down the door!” Abel told her, he and his pups pressing their shoulders against the wood. “Renard we can’t hold them back!”

“I know, I know!” The fox was looking around the room, “Okay! I have an idea!”

 .

             With one more hit the doors flew open, revealing the dim interior beyond. Gaston’s lips curled into a delicious grin. “Take whatever you want,” he told the mob. “But remember, the Beast is mine.”

“What about us?” the leader of the hunters glared at him as the group walked into the castle.

Gaston met his glare head on, “You really want to face the monster that nearly tore you in half.” He watched the torn look in the man’s eyes, on one hand he wanted the money he could get from killing such a creature, on the other hand there was the fear that said creature would finish the job. Gaston didn’t wait for an answer, instead heading up the stairs while the mob looked around the first room.

Then there was an inhuman shriek.

           Our from the crooks and crannies and side rooms and ceiling came a legion of animals. The leader of the hunters was knocked down by a feral fox, an owl and several other birds flew overhead, clawing at the mob’s head. Even a rabbit bite LeFou’s ankle.

Gaston cursed under his breath and dashed up the stairs, he had no interest in these animals. His prize was somewhere else in this castle and he was going to find it.

 .

             Darling was covered in sweat when she broke from the trees, arriving at the castle with its open gates. Belle sucked in a breath and urged the mare on, Philippe and her brothers following after. Belle dismounted Darling before the horse had completely come to a stop, running inside the castle’s open doors and stepped into chaos. The servants were making a mockery of the mob. She saw Chat and a few other felines of the castle, chasing down a few men. Abel and his pups nibbling on one mob member, not making him bleed but definitely scaring the daylights out of him. She also saw Renard clawing at the bandit the Beast had attacked.

“Wow,” was all her brothers could say when they reached their sister and saw the sight before them. Chaton saw her mother and cheered her and the other animals on, digging her tiny claws into Nicholas’ shoulder.

Belle turned to his brothers, “I need to find the Beast. You help here.”

“But Belle-“Tristan began but was interrupted by his younger brother.

“You be careful,” Nicholas ordered, “Gaston is probably looking for him as well”

Belle smiled at them, “This is me we’re talking about. I can handle anything.” She whirled around and dashed into the madness. She heard her name being called out happily, Renard having pinned the bandit down and smiling at her with adoration and relief. She smiled back but didn’t stop, almost at the stairs a rough hand dug into her shoulder. Belle was turned around to stare into the snarling face of one of the other bandits, he held her arms in a vise-like grip and she remembered him as the bandit who had tried to lift up her dress. There were bite marks across his arms and bleeding cuts on his head.

“You’re not going anywhere, sweetheart!”

No fear iced Belle’s veins, instead a furious fire set her blood ablaze and she knew she had no time for this piece of scum. So she kicked him in his nether regions. “Do not call me sweetheart,” she said simply as he fell to the ground, moaning in pain and cradling himself. Belle hurried up the stairs and made her way to the west wing, vaguely realizing she had never been to the room. But now was not the time for idle curiosity now was the time to punch Gaston in his perfect, smug face. Something someone should’ve done a long time ago.

 .

             The Beast wished he could be left in peace, when Chat had first come into the room his stupid heart had fluttered with hope that maybe Belle had come back. Maybe he could finally tell her how he felt.

When heavy footsteps reached his ears he forced his head up to see a strange man standing there. Slick black hair and a face like a Greek statue he was someone he imagined any woman would love to be with. And he was aiming an arrow to the Beast’s heart.

He turned his back to the stranger. Go ahead, it’s already broken. But despite his melancholy when the arrow sliced across his back he still reared up and screeched in pain. He had hardly gone quiet when the man slammed into the Beast, knocking them into the glass that shattered from the impact. He rolled down across the slick shingles of the room, landing on a lower balcony, the man landing on his feet before him. Breathing through the pain licking down his spine the Beast tried to stand up-but then wondered what was the point? It was all over.

The man kicked him in the ribs and the Beast flinched. The stranger’s taunting voice spoke above him, “Get up and fight!” Another kick and he let out a mocking laugh. “What’s the matter then, Beast? Too kind and gentle to fight back?”

The Beast only closed his eyes and waited for the man to grow bored and once more fire his arrow, he hoped his servants were okay, he hoped they could find a better life even with the curse. He hoped-

“STOP!”

The Beast’s eyes flew open and he looked beyond the man’s shoulder to the broken glass of his room…and there she was. Belle’s hair was loose and flowing across her shoulders, her eyes were wide with fright and anger and she looked ready to jump down after them. And she was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.

The stranger followed his gaze to see Belle; he then scowled and turned back to the Beast, a new arrow notched. But this time the Beast slammed his foot into the man’s stomach, knocking him across the balcony and hitting the wall. The man pulled himself back to his feet, eyes blazing with blood lust.

“Don’t you dare hurt him, Gaston!” Belle screamed out, jumping past the broken glass and clumsily sliding down the shingles, she knocked into Gaston and the man stumbled, his bow falling out of his hands. She pulled away from him and started to hurry to the Beast but Gaston grabbed her before she could, pressing her back against his chest and pulling out a knife.

The Beast snarled and moved forward only to stop in his tracks when he turned the knife on Belle, the sharp edge pressed against her neck. “Don’t move,” Gaston ordered, looking crazed.

The Beast’s heart had stopped but Belle didn’t look nearly as frightened. “You coward,” she growled.

Gaston laughed, not moving the knife. “Come now, Belle. Do you honestly want to be with that when you could be with me?” Belle looked at him with disgust, “He’s not holding a knife to my throat.”

But Gaston had turned his attention to the Beast. “What gave you the right to think you could have her all to yourself?”

“Let her go,” the Beast begged. “This is between you and me. Let her go please.”

“Between you and me?” he echoed, “Don’t be ridiculous. This is between me and Belle and her choice.” He looked down at the girl and his voice changed, sounding soft and sincere. “This is your last chance, my dearest. Choose me and live, choose him and die.”

Belle slowly turned her heard to give Gaston her iciest looks and for a moment that felt to the Beast like eternity she was silent. Then she spoke: “I’ve chosen the third choice.” And then before Gaston could react she shot her head back, knocking her head into his face and breaking his nose, the knife moved away from her neck and Belle pushed out of his grip. But as she did so the knife sliced across her cheek, ripping over the flesh and making blood stream down her face. Belle cried out in pain and the Beast surged forward, grabbing Gaston by his shirt and slamming him back into the wall, knocking him unconscious. He dropped the man to the stone floor and quickly hurried to Belle, holding her face in his paws to examine her wound.

“Are you alright?” he felt like he couldn’t breathe. “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine.” “Then why are you crying?”

Belle smiled through the tears that had started to fall, “Because I’m happy! You’re okay!”

He smiled at her, the unbearable ache subsiding in his chest and he pressed their temples together. “I am now that you’re here.”

           They took a few moments collecting their breath and letting their heartbeats slow down before Belle spoke. “Are you sure?”

He blinked and pulled his head back to look at her. Belle ran her finger over the dried blood on her cheek, the wound having stopped. “I think this’ll scar. I won’t have the ‘flawless’ beauty other men had always complimented.” “That’s not the beauty I care about,” the Beast’s voice was soft. “I worry about the beauty inside you, and it’s still shining. You could be covered in scars and you’d be absolutely angelic in my eyes.”

Her smile only widened and she giggled breathlessly, “Don’t be such a sap.”

He wanted to join in with her laughter but a second after she had finished speaking he felt a jagged bolt of pain through the small of his back. He howled in agony and Belle let out a scream, Gaston had risen and stabbed him when they were distracted. The Beast violently whirled around, dislodging the man who hit the railing of the balcony, bloody dagger in hand. He lifted himself to his feet, eyes inhuman, burning with lust for Belle and jealously for the Beast and hate for them both. But before he could take a step forward Belle ran at him, “Don’t touch him!” She pushed him, and the man was sent over the edge flailing and screaming as he fell into the dark.

           The Beast dropped to his knees and then fell down. His vision was starting to turn black and his ears were growing numb. He vaguely heard Belle call his name; he also heard what sounded like Renard, Chat, and Plumes. They all sounded so scared.

Belle appeared in his sight, her tears streaming as she pulled his head onto her lap.

“Beast,” she sobbed, “Keep your eyes open! Look at me!”

He smiled at her. “I’m fine,” his voice was so quiet.

“No you are not you’re hurt! We need to find something to stop the bleeding!”

He slowly shook his head, “No…it’s too late.”

She only cried harder, “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, Beast. This is all my fault! If I had never left they would have never known about you.” He reached his paw out and his took it, her fingers were trembling. “It’s okay. I’m happy…I got to see you again…one last time.”

“Don’t you dare talk like that,” she said hotly, “You’re going to be just fine. We’ll get you fixed up and then we can spend the rest of our lives here, dancing and playing and reading.”

His eyelids lowered, “That would’ve been paradise.”

“Beast I order you to live,” Belle’s angry voice wobbled. “If you die I’ll die too, and then I’ll follow wherever you go.” Her voice broke and her next sentence was more of a sob than words, “I’ll go wherever you are sent but I will not abandon you.”

How had he gotten so lucky? How had he met a woman who cared for him so deeply? That thought reminded him that there was one more very important thing he hadn’t told Belle. But he had to be careful about it.

“This is how it looks.” Through her tears her brow furrowed.

“You-you always said how Romeo and Juliet were so in love. No, this is what a it looks like when someone dies for their true love.”

Her eyes widened the amber glassy. He breathed out his next words, “I love you, Belle.”

She swallowed and so many emotions came across her face, “I love you, too.” And oh, how was it possible simple words could be so sweet?

He closed his eyes and Belle shook him, “Don’t you dare! Look at me, look at me! Open your eyes!

           Belle couldn’t breathe, she couldn’t think, she could only feel. Feel pain tearing her heart into a thousand pieces, feeling the hot tears slid down her cheeks and across the caked blood. Felt her entire body shaking as she felt into his chest, burying her head into the fur of his neck. “Don’t leave me! Please don’t leave me! Not now, not after they had just confessed to each other. It wasn’t fair, it wasn’t fair!

Unbeknownst to anyone-the last petal fell.

.

             Nicholas cheekily waved goodbye to the fleeing mob, all covered in bite marks. He and Tristan stood with the cheering animals, proud of themselves for defending their turf and apparently hadn’t noticed the two men still in the castle.

Chaton was purring in her ear. “We did it!” she exclaimed even though she and the two brothers mainly stood awkwardly by while the other animals sent the mob running.

Nicholas turned to look at the staircase where Belle had vanished, she hadn’t returned yet and he was starting to get worried, “Maybe we should go check-” he stopped mid-sentence when a golden glitter shone at the corner of his eye. He turned his head to see Chaton being enveloped by a golden light. “CHATON!” he gasped before falling to the ground. The golden light faded and instead of Chaton there was a small girl in a white dress, blue eyes wide and silvery blond hair tangled. She sat up on his chest, eyes looking at her now human hands then slowly turned her head to look at Nicholas. She broke into a wide grin as around her the rest of the animals were enveloped by golden light.

 .

             A sudden light shown beyond Belle’s closed eyes, her eyes popped opened and she let out a cry of surprise, crawling back a few paces as the Beast was encircled in a glowing light. Renard, Chat, and Plumes looked thunderstruck.

In the circle of golden light Belle could make out the silhouette of the Beast, it grew smaller, leaner, no longer wolf like and her lips parted in awe. The golden light fell away and instead of the Beast there was a man, his hair a fair shade as well as his skin, he slowly pulled himself up and to his feet, staggering as he did so. Belle watched, transfixed as he examined his body, his legs and now healed torso, his hands. And then he whirled around so suddenly he nearly tripped.

Belle was suddenly starting into twilight eyes. She breathed out a word, “Montague?”

He smiled, “Belle…”

She rose onto shaking legs, still unsure she was truly seeing what she was seeing. He walked to her, grabbing her hands, interlocking their fingers and familiar blue eyes shone down at her with love. And then she was positive.

Belle released a shaking breath and smiled at him, “It’s you. You’re okay!” She suddenly held his face between her hands and pulled him to her lips, he instantly returned the kiss, his warm hands caging her. Fresh tears, joyful tears, fell down Belle’s lips. When they pulled away he whispered, “You broke the curse. You saved me.”

“Just like you saved me.”

They pulled each other into an embrace, cheeks aching from smiling “I love you,” she declared happily. His voice was softer but no less happy. “I love you too, my Capulet.”

           Sudden whoops of excitement brought their attention to Renard and the others, only to see the fox, cat, and owl had vanished. In their place was a ginger young man, an older lady with silvery blond hair, and a bespectacled man with a heavy set.

Human Renard ran to them, “I KNEW YOU COULD DO IT!” He pulled them into a tight hug that Chat and Plumes quickly joined in. Belle laughed along with them, happy and in awe and in love.

She had never needed to go far away to have the adventure she always read about.

 .

             Morning light shined on the ballroom, the now human servants and Belle’s family surrounding she and the prince as they dance and spun to the happy music, he sun casting gold, purple, and red light over the ballroom. Renard had an arm around Lapin while he and Plumes argued over who had said Belle would break the curse. Chat and Chaton sitting at the piano while the older woman play an elegant and loving song. As they did so she once again brought up the cut on her cheek, it was slowly becoming a scar. “I think it gives you character,” he smiled. “It’s a testament to your bravery.”

She smiled at him, glad to know that the one man whose opinion mattered to her didn’t care if she her skin was flawless or not. But her lips turned up into a thoughtful frown as she looked up at her prince.  

He blinked, slightly concerned. “What is it?”

“Would you ever consider growing a beard?”

[awkwardblushing-blog]

Chapter 54 - Dancing

AO3 Link: 

Bastien twirled the ring in his hand, letting the gold chain looped through its center pool against the stone railing of the balcony. His eyes focused on the glinting figure of the wolves as they raced about in a circle. The ring had been Jean’s. His mother had brought it with her, hoping he would be there so she might give it to him, as had been Jean’s will. She’d fluttered off shortly after that, off to chat with some new noble or other, but leaving him in a delightful solitude.

The lake glittered in the moonlight, surrounded by a sea of black trees interrupted only by the occasional carriage light snaking its way through the paths towards home. The sky far to the east was beginning to grow lighter, signaling the coming of dawn. They were permitted quarters in Halamshiral for the day, though whether they would be used was still anyone’s guess. Cullen had escaped the ballroom quickly, as soon as the events had settled in fact, eager to get away from the wandering hands of the nobles. Bastien recalled him mentioning something about troop movements as he fled. Josephine and Leliana were doing what Bastien could only call reconnaissance; the rest of his companions seemed to fade in and out of the woodwork, though Bull was a constant fixture by the buffet table. He glanced towards the garden where Dorian had spent much of the night but found the familiar fountain empty.

He looked back out over the water, a cool breeze tugging at his hair and he sighed, and then nearly jumped out of his skin as a hand brushed against his back. He turned quickly to see Dorian, smirking, and taking his place beside him.

“There was an ancient dowager looking for you, said she had twelve daughters.” Bastien’s eyes went wide and Dorian laughed, bracing his hand on Bastien’s arm with a wink, “I told her you’d already left.”

Bastien let out a sigh and shook his head, shooting a look to Dorian before taking his hand in his.

“You can thank me now or later, whichever you prefer.” Dorian grinned, squeezing his hand when Bastien remained silent. “Is everything alright? Should I leave you to be lost in thought or would you like a distraction? I can be very distracting.”

“It’s just been a very long night, though I am well aware of how distracting you can be,” Bastien laughed, leaning closer, “Especially when you’re shouting curses in Tevene.”

Dorian blushed as warm breath brushed his ear and he cleared his throat.  “Yes, well, you looked so hopeless I had to intervene.” He gestured to the ring, eager for a change in topic. “Where did you find that?”

“Ah, my mother gave it to me. It used to be Jean’s. When I was little, I would always try to wear it, trying to be just like my big brother,” He laughed, “It never fit me though and I nearly lost it several times. He would tease me incessantly over it…I can’t believe he remembered.” He cleared his throat, “He left it to me in his will, along with a few other things.”

Dorian placed a hand on his shoulder, “Do you know what you need?”

“No, but please tell me.” Bastien turned his face towards Dorian.

“Well, insofar as things we can do in public are concerned,” Bastien blushed, clearing his throat as Dorian continued smirking, “I think you need to dance.”

“Maker, Dorian, I’ve been dancing half the evening.” He grumbled, turning to fully face Dorian, a bit surprised to see him bowed low with his arm extended.

“I meant with me.” He quirked an eyebrow, trying to keep his tone light, though this would mean so much more than a casual dance. This would be them, dancing at the Winter Palace, anyone could see. Bastien smirked and sighed, Dorian braced for an impact, struggling desperately to maintain an outward veneer of calm, though his heart felt lodged in his throat.

“I thought you’d never ask.” He took Dorian’s hand in his and pulled him tightly against him, burying his face into Dorian’s neck.

“Then thank goodness one of us has some initiative.” He muttered, heart slamming in his chest so quickly he was certain Bastien could hear it. They turned around the balcony a few times, not truly paying attention to any of the music, just content to be in one another’s arms enjoying a moment of peace. After a few moments of comfortable silence, Dorian piped up again, “Did you ever get the chance to taste the wine?”

Bastien’s head lifted and he locked eyes with Dorian, his cheeks tinged pink and his eyes glinting in what Dorian assumed was mischief. He leaned down and captured Dorian’s mouth, kissing him thoroughly, before lifting his head once more. “I have now.”

Damn that was smooth. Dorian looked away quickly, so caught off guard that he broke from the dance. Bastien laughed and directed him back to the railing, returning to his posture from before, but more relaxed. Dorian leaned back against the railing staring back into the ballroom.

“It was so very delightful to watch you twist the court around your little finger.” He grinned, bumping his hip against Bastien’s. “I have to admit, I was pleasantly surprised.”

“Honestly? So was I.” The sound of a heeled foot interrupted them and he turned, Dorian already facing the woman encroaching on their moment. “Oh, hello Mother.”

“Bastien, I have some wonderful news!” She rushed over to him, skirts flaring out behind her. “Do you remember Cecelia?”

“Of course.” Cecelia had been one of his best friends growing up. She’d always been present at his house since her father was one of his father’s old companions from the military. “What about her?”

“Well, after a bit of scouting on my part,” His mother winked and wiggled closer, “I found out that she has rejected all of her marriage prospects. So, I spoke with her father, and your father, and we think it would be absolutely splendid if the two of you were betrothed!” Her mother smiled brightly and wrapped her arms around Bastien, “Oh isn’t this so magnificent! You get to marry your best friend!”

Bastien’s eyes went wide, though not quite as wide as Dorian’s. He gently pressed against his mothers shoulders even as the woman in question strode onto the patio. She had changed greatly from the little girl he used to know, now standing near as tall as Bastien in her heels. It was wonderful to see her again, though he wished it were under different circumstances.

“Bastien, how good to see you again.” Cecelia approached him with her arms outstretched, kissing him firmly on the cheek. “It has been far too long.”

“Y-yes, it has.” Bastien blushed terribly, glancing to his mother first, then Dorian who’d taken a few steps back to regard the scene from a distance. He had to end this before Dorian got the wrong idea. He had no intention to marry unless it was him. He blushed harder at the realization, he wanted to spend the rest of his life with Dorian and his mother unknowingly stood in his way. “Mother, a word.”

He pulled free of Cecelia and strode several feet away, his back turned. His mother, confused, dismissed herself politely and joined him. They spoke in rushed, quiet tones, Bastien repeatedly shaking his head.

Cecelia and Dorian glanced at one another for a brief moment before her eyes flicked away. She was pretty, Dorian had to admit. Her long brown hair fell in waves to her narrow waist, her rich, brown eyes warm and soft behind thick lashes, and her lips rested in a soft pout. He felt a chill race up his spine. From a practical standpoint, he knew Bastien could do far worse for a betrothal, however… He clenched his jaw. With a pout, Bastien’s mother returned to Cecelia and asked her to give them a moment. The moment she was gone, she turned back to Bastien.

“If not her, then I have this other young lady lined up, I had just assumed you would rather marry your best friend but if you would prefer-“

“Mother, stop.” Bastien’s tone was firm and the woman started, composing herself and nodding.

“Sorry, love, I know I got a bit overexcited. I just want to see you in a happy match.” She smiled, clasping her hands in front of her, beaming at her youngest, “And, I would like to be the one to arrange it!”

“Mother, no. I am already in a relationship and I am quite happy with him.” He turned and walked over to Dorian, his expression imploring, “I am so sorry, I had no idea she would do this.”

Dorian started. Bastien had just ousted them to his mother without a second thought. He would have understood if Bastien had wanted to keep them secret from his family, for a bit longer anyway, until the bridge could be rebuilt. But perhaps it was better this way, tear it off like a wound dressing.

“It is quite alright, I can understand her enthusiasm.” Dorian smiled, his eyes flicking back to Bastien’s mother. Her eyes were wide, her mouth slightly open, she was positively thunderstruck. She looked back and forth between the two of them rapidly.

“You...and the Tevinter? A mage?” Dorian winced, up until now she’d called him by his name. “You’re… interested in men?”

“I am interested in Dorian.” Bastien corrected, his fingers weaving to lace with Dorian's.

“Bastien you have to understand, you cannot marry a man. Regardless of your feelings on the matter, the political and social ramifications of-“

“You lost your say in who I marry when you followed the Chantry’s lead and abandoned me.” Bastien snapped. Dorian was frozen, Bastien wanted to marry him? So soon? His heart skipped, unsure if that was the road he was ready to go down, all at once frightened and elated by the possibility. Bastien’s mother looked momentarily mortified, tears stinging her eyes before she wiped them away in agitation. Taking a steadying breath, she composed herself.

“Darling, I understand what we did to you was wrong, and I like Dorian, I truly do, but you understand what kind of life you would have with him?” She shook her head, “You would be ostracized no matter how powerful your Inquisition becomes. I don’t want that kind of life for you.”

Bastien stood a bit taller, Dorian watched as the mask slid back into place, hardened by the recent heartbreak. He’d given his mother a second chance, and so soon and after such a night she was betraying it. He felt like a fly frozen on the wall, as though regardless of his involvement he was an intruder. If Bastien’s happiness with his family was guaranteed, maybe Dorian should step out of the picture? He shifted away and Bastien’s hand tightened, nearly painful, on his, pulling him back.

“I appreciate your concern. Now, if there is nothing else, please leave us be. It has been a long evening.” Mariane froze at the coldness of his words, shaking her head violently. His eyes were hard, staring down his nose at the small woman who suddenly seemed so very frail.  “This is not a request, Lady Trevelyan.”

“Bastien Hector Trevelyan, I am still your mother.” Her tone grew firm and she drew herself up and took a step forward, “I am a part of your life whether you like it or not. And if you have chosen a life of ridicule and ostracism to be with the man you love...” She stopped short of them and huffed out a sigh, reaching forward to grab their joined hands, “Then I have no choice but to support you.”

Bastien’s mask shattered and his jaw dropped open, eyes wide and blinking rapidly. He looked at Dorian, then back at his mother, eyes wide. “Really? You… would support us?”

“Try not to sound so utterly surprised, I had a love of my own once. He was…,” His mother sighed dreamily, lost in a tender memory as Bastien’s perception of his mother imploded in on itself. She recalled herself quickly and continued, her voice tinged with a touch of sadness, “Though I would highly advise not telling your father.”

Bastien nodded mutely, his mother dropping their joined hands to reach up and wrap her arms around Dorian’s neck, pulling him into a hug.

“It was so very nice to meet you, Dorian.” She hugged him a little tighter, speaking low in his ear so only he would hear, “Hurt him and I will find you.”

She released him with a bright smile, turning her teary gaze to Bastien, who embraced her eagerly, pulling her up into his arms and twirling, his face buried in her neck. She laughed, lilting and delicate like an angel, not at all like the creature who’d all but growled in Dorian’s ear a moment earlier. Dorian smiled.

“Let me know when the wedding will be, I had better be involved in the planning!” She smiled and waved over her shoulder, disappearing back into the castle.

Bastien immediately whirled on Dorian. “I am so sorry! I had no idea that was going to happen, if you don’t want to get married I would understand –n-not that I don’t want to i-it’s just we haven’t been together that long and I don’t want you to feel rushed and - and - and I still have no idea what I’m doing and-“

“Calm down, Hector,” Dorian sighed, his heart settling in a warm fondness. This was a lot more open emotion than he was used to, and he was beginning to feel a bit overwhelmed. But Bastien was open and honest with him, he could do no less in return. “I feel the same.”

“Oh, thank the Maker.” He threw his arms around Dorian and drew him in tightly, burying his face in his neck. When he spoke again, his voice was muffled, “Please don’t tell anyone my middle name.”

“Hm… I’m not sure, what will you do to convince me?”

[detectiveofhades]

Marie’s Mystery - 3: Murder

The evening passed rather pleasantly, despite the almost obvious plans for murder. Nico and Erik kept a fairly close eye on Estelle and Marcel while Dupin was keeping a close eye on Camille. But hours had gone by, and no move had been made towards Camille.

Sometime during the festivities, Marie Roget sang a few songs, and was accompanied once by Erik on the piano. Nico could tell that Erik enjoyed her singing by the way he tilted his head. She had a lovely voice for sure, and it accompanied Erik’s playing quite well. Nico nodded curtly, if Erik and Marie were to fall in love and Marie didn’t leave because of his deformity, then she would come to live with them. It would be nice to have a female around the house again. With that thought came a rush of memories of Nico’s mother and sister. Nico fought back the tears that threatened to fall from his eyes. He was at a party, the instant the tears came falling, everyone would be rushing to comfort him; at least Erik and probably Marie. Maybe even Dupin. But they had a mystery to solve, meaning the memories would have to be put aside for later. Though he did wonder why, in the four years since their deaths, was he thinking of them now? He shook the thoughts from his head and concentrated on the couples, Estelle and Marcel especially.

A few minutes closer to midnight, Marcel went to get Camille some drinks while Dupin and Estelle went to the balcony to talk. Nico itched to listen in on their conversation, but resolved to wait until Dupin revealed the details of it later. He decided to turn his focus to Marcel, and realized with a start that the gentleman had not returned from gathering the drinks, as Camille still sat where he had left her on the couch. She did not have a drink yet, and was apparently looking around for Marcel, even though she was constantly interrupted by the other ladies sitting nearby. Where had he gone? Nico’s eyes scanned the room, looking for who he now suspected of plotting foul play. He could not find Marcel in the room, and Dupin was still talking with Estelle. Was the plan to poison Camille’s drink? Nico scanned the room for Erik, finding him chatting away with Marie, the two shooting furtive glances between Camille and the doorway to the balcony where Estelle was.

A moment later, Estelle emerged from the balcony, followed a few minutes later by Dupin. A minute later, Marcel appeared at Camille’s side with the drinks. But Nico noticed the furtive glances he was shooting between Dupin and Estelle. Did Marcel try to poison Dupin? If so, Dupin must have realized it as Nico noticed he glanced suspiciously at Marcel before turning to Gobelin and walking back out on the balcony. Curiosity at what they were talking about was gnawing away at Nico’s mind, but he dared not go to the balcony. It would leave Erik alone to watch over both Marie and Camille, and that would not be fair. Instead, he slowly made his way towards Camille, who had both Marcel and Estelle hovering around. When Nico reached Camille’s side and muttered something about needing to sit down to the pressing questions, Marcel and Estelle excused themselves and walked away. Nico began to get up to follow them out, but Erik and Marie were already on their way, pretending to be on a romantic stroll. Well, that’s what they made it seem like. Again, Nico’s imagination wandered towards the notion that maybe the romance wasn’t as fake as they made it out to be. At least, on Erik’s part, anyway. Perhaps Marie was pretending. But Nico had noticed her particular persistence on having Erik dance every dance with her and sought him out on musical opinions.

“I don’t know about that mask, but those two seem to have fallen in love at first sight!’ whispered one of the women sitting across from Camille and Nico on the sofa. Well, that confirmed that suspicion. At least he wasn’t the only one who noticed.

“It certainly seems that way. I’ve never seen Marie act like this around a man before! We met him and Seigneur di Angelo earlier today when my grandmother called them over to congratulate them on solving the mystery of her dear friend’s death, that of Madame L’Espanaye. I think it was most certainly then for Marie could not stop speaking of his mysterious masked butler!” Camille shot Nico a warm smile. Apparently it was a good thing Erik caught Marie’s eye. Did no other man attract her, or something? But then, what would she think when she saw the man beneath the mask?

“But what of what lies beneath the mask? Will she love him then?” asked the woman. Nico shot a glance at her, she had taken the words out of his mouth; at least, out of his mind.

Camille’s face became thoughtful for a moment before brightening. “Oh, I’m sure she will. See, like I said, no other man has caught Marie’s attention quite like this. She was fascinated with the young Seigneur for a bit,” stated Camille. Nico shot a startled glance at her. Say what? “But I think it might have something to do with the fact that Marie likes a little mystery. I do believe Erik has more of what she’s looking for in a man.”

The woman chuckled as she shot a glance at Nico. “Well, I don’t think the young Seignor is quite old enough to be considered a man.”

Nico frowned as he sat back and crossed his arms. What, did they really think Marie would be interested in him? But Nico was more upset at being referenced as being too young.

“Yes, I’m afraid that I do know Marie prefers older men,” replied Camille, shooting an apologetic smile at Nico.

Nico shrugged. “To each their own. At least she’s not after me for my money.”

“Oh, I’m sure some young lady will notice that soon enough,” remarked the woman with a wink and a grin.

“Yeah, sure,” muttered Nico. Oh great, what in the world made them think he wanted to get married? As if there was anyone who would be interested in him in the first place. Who would want to marry the son of Hades? But in the next instant he was on his feet. Dupin had rushed into the room with Gobelin with a worried look on his face. It eased up a bit when he saw Nico and Camille. Dupin jerked his head in the direction of the balcony before dashing back out with Gobelin. Nico rushed towards the balcony, his throat beginning to tighten as he realized what worried Dupin. Dupin must have heard a scream since, right as Nico reached the doorway, he sensed a soul leaving its body. They were already too late.

The trio rushed out to the yard, Dupin explaining what Nico already guessed. Dupin and Gobelin had heard a scream coming from the yard.

“Erik and Marie should be out here!” blurted Nico before explaining that the two followed Estelle and Marcel outside.

“I hope they’re already on the scene, or prevented something from happening,” remarked Gobelin.

“I don’t think so,” muttered Nico. The two men paused and glanced at him questioningly. “Erik’s first mission would be to make sure Marie is alright,” Nico quickly explained. “He’d take care of her first.”

“Of course,” Dupin slowly agreed.

Nico gulped quietly, he knew Dupin didn’t quite believe him and was no doubt gathering every singly clue he could about Nico to figure him out. But they had more pressing matters to attend to. Nico was ever so grateful when a figure rushed up to them. It was Monsieur Beauvais.

“Oh, I thought I heard a scream,” stated Beauvais. “You did, Monsieur? And where were you?” asked Gobelin.

“Why, I was out taking a walk in the garden,” stated Beauvais.

“Were you with anyone?” asked Gobelin.

“No, I was alone. Is everything alright?”

“We don’t know yet,” replied Dupin.

“Is there anything I can help with?” asked Beauvais.

“No, thank you, Monsieur,” Dupin quickly replied before Gobelin had a chance.

“Thank you,” muttered Gobelin as Beauvais gavea slight bow of his head and walked away.

Dupin and Gobelin had been standing in front of Nico, and Beauvais did not seem to notice the young lord. Nico turned to looking through the brush behind them while the adults had their conversation. His heart nearly stopped when he found a clue. By then, Beauvais had retreated to the house.

“Dupin,” muttered Nico quietly as he showcased the clue to the two men.

“Why, isn’t that Marie Roget’s?” asked Gobelin as Dupin took the hand purse from Nico. On one side was embroidered the initials M. R.

“Erik was with her,” muttered Nico as his eyes widened. He turned back to the brush. “Erik!” he called out, panic seizing his chest. No, please, Dad, not Erik. “Erik!” he called out again as he waded through the brush, tears stinging his eyes.

“Nico!” called out Dupin as he and Gobelin followed.

But Nico didn’t listen, he had to find his butler, his only friend, his family. “Erik!” He couldn’t lose him too. “Erik!”

A moan reached his ears, and he took off towards the sound. Erik’s figure emerged from around a nearby tree, his hand on the tree as he toppled towards Nico.

“I’m sorry, my liege, I . . . I failed,” uttered Erik sadly.

Nico didn’t answer, he just ran towards Erik and wrapped his arms around him. He let the tears of relief fall, but didn’t utter a sound as Erik’s hand patted his head reassuringly.

“Would you look at that, he does have feelings!”

“Gobelin!” berated Dupin’s voice. The two men had caught up, but Nico didn’t glance at them. “Monsieur Erik, could you tell us what happened? We found Marie Roget’s purse.”

Erik let out a sad sigh. “Marie and I came out here to follow Marcel and Estelle. We figured they were going to be planning something real soon as they had not made a move as of yet, and the party was quickly coming to a close.” He paused, but when he did continue, there was a catch in his voice. Nico understood, and his heart just about broke. Erik had fallen for Marie. “When we, when got closer, to about here, in fact . . . she hit me on the head and knocked me out.”

Nico snapped his head up to glance at Erik with a sharp intake of air.

“You mean to tell me Marie was in on it the whole time?” exclaimed Gobelin.

Nico shot a glance at Dupin, something didn’t add up.

Dupin glanced down at the purse. “I don’t know, Gobelin, something’s off.”

“What do you mean, something’s off, Dupin? It makes sense now! Marie and Estelle were in this together!”

“But the scream we heard came no doubt from a woman,” stated Dupin.

“A scream?” muttered Erik.

“Yes, did you hear it?” asked Gobelin.

“I must have been coming to, I think I heard it faintly . . . followed not long by a splash,” replied Erik before he uttered a soft groan and rubbed the back of his head.

“The river!” shouted Gobelin before rushing towards the river bank, followed closely by Dupin.

Nico turned to Erik. “Are you alright?” he asked worriedly.

“I shall be fine, little master.”

“Your heart worse than your head?” asked Nico softly.

Erik let out a sigh. “You know me too well. But my heart is hoping that Marie cared enough for me that she was doing this to protect me.”

“Why? You could have protected her! You’re strong enough to have taken out both Marcel and Estelle!”

“She must have had her reasons. It may just be my heart, but it may also be my instinct on this, but . . . not only do I think Marie is dead, I also think she is innocent.”

Nico nodded. “I think so too.”

“Well, look what we found,” remarked Gobelin as he and Dupin came back through the bushes. Nico and Erik walked towards them to see what it was. “It’s Camille’s,” remarked Gobelin as he took the clue to showcase to them. It was a white handkerchief.

“What are you suggesting?” asked Nico as Dupin took the handkerchief back and stuffed it in his coat pocket.

“Well, um . . .”

“That Camille is in on it? No wonder why you need Dupin’s help, you have no imagination!” blurted Nico, becoming rather furious.

“Now see here!” began Gobelin, but Dupin laid a hand on his arm.

“What are you suggesting, Seigneur?” asked Dupin.

“From the time Marcel and Estelle left, followed by Marie and Erik, I was with Camille the entire time,” muttered Nico with a soft growl. “Which means only one person would have had a handkerchief from Camille, Marcel!”

“Wait, they killed Marcel?” asked Gobelin.

“Didn’t Dupin just say not too long ago that the scream you heard was definitely from a female? No, most likely, Estelle and Marcel struck tonight, not at Camille as we all feared, but at Marie. She must have been trying to find evidence against Marcel and tonight, she got too close. Perhaps that is why she knocked Erik out, she feared for his life, perhaps knowing far better how the two of them would act.”

Dupin nodded. “That sounds reasonable. However, we need more evidence, and the body, before we can have a case.”

“So, now what?” asked Gobelin.

“Seigneur, may I suggest that you and your butler escort Camille home. Then you get Erik straight to bed, he needs plenty of rest after such loving protection.” Erik chuckled slightly. “Gobelin will get a diver over here and we shall search for the body. We’ll fill you in on any details in the morning.”

“A good plan. See you in the morning, Doctor, Prefect,” stated Nico with a bow. Erik mirrored his actions before following his young master back to the house. The two managed to get Camille away from the party without so much as a word about their suspicions. They got her home safely, but by that time she had practically wormed out of them that they feared for Marie, but that Dupin and Gobelin were taking care of it.

Once they got back to the James’ house, Nico did what Dupin ordered and promptly got Erik to bed. He did fuss over him for a little while, getting him water and making sure he was comfortable before heading to his own bed. But as Nico’s head hit the pillow, a sudden thought hit him that he had to fight in order to get to sleep, where was Estelle?