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utterlyazriel · 5 months ago

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whom the shadows sing for — (and the thief's echoing hymn)

a/n: getting to have them be not in constant danger or emotional turmoil for one chapter? crazy. how do these goobers even flirt <3 as always, thank u for your patience and please let me know what you think!

word count: 4.4k

synopsis: Finally accepting Cassian's invitation to breakfast, Rhys offers you a proposal. You take flight for the first time since that fateful night in Exordor.

CHAPTER TWELVE :: SHRIKE (TO YOUR SHY AND GLORIOUS THORN)

As dawn breaks the next morning, rain pours.

Weather has never been a deterrent for Illyrian warriors. Cassian, Azriel, and yourself rise and head to train all the while, welcoming the extra challenge. Blades and boots swing, slicing through a thousand raindrops, sending graceful arcs of water in their wake.

From a distance, the movements so controlled, you think you might almost get mistaken as Summer soldiers, so adept in the water.

Though, as training draws to a close and you all pack inside, wings shivering from the icy sheets of rain, you steal a long glance at the two towering figures.

Their wings, like your own, make a terrifying silhouette and your matching armour glitters in blackness and rain.

With a glimmer of pride, you rapidly reconsider—there's no mistaking you for anything but what you are: soldiers of the Night.

“Breakfast?” Cassian offers, as he’s done after every one of your training sessions. He's the first to break the tired silence post-training, pulling the bulkier, unneeded armour off his chest.

It appears, despite your constant declinations, Cassian is not one to be discouraged. He still asks and he never seems put out with your answer.

That fact stirs something in you, a warm glow — his easy attempts to always include you mean more to you than he'll likely ever truly know.

You glance at Azriel beside you, silent. He’s scrubbing at his wet hair with a towel, same as yourself, and when you meet his eyes, he tilts his head an inch. If you want to, I will too.

Between training and wandering the halls occasionally, you still haven’t actually spent much time outside your room.

It's a built-in habit you've yet to shake. Fruitless exploring was an expenditure you couldn't afford to waste energy on back in the mountains.

You steal another glance at Azriel.

Friends. That's what you are now. Friends go to breakfast with one another... at least, you think they do.

Besides, eyes darting to Cassian, you have two of them now. Maybe it’s time to start breaking out of your old routine and start forging a new one.

“Alright.” you say, trying to swallow the timidness in your voice.

“Really?” Cassian goads, brows raised high, even as his eyes gleam happily at the accepted invite. A wicked grin takes over his face.

“I’ve been trying to get you to come for weeks and now Az’s here, suddenly you’re in.”

Something in you flusters at his teasing, even if you know his words has no real heat.

You’re saved from having to sputter through an answer when Cassian, forgoing using a towel, shakes his wet hair out much like a dog would.

Cold rains splatters out and you hiss, flicking a drop off the edge of your wing with distaste.

Brows raised, you say, “I’ve wonder why.”

Cassian’s shit-eating grin is his only reply.

You cut a glance to Azriel to find he’s already looking your way, a weary but amused look in his eyes, his shadows lingering around his shoulders, languid and relaxed. He’s had far more years of Cassian's nonsense than you.

Breakfast, you find, is a lot of the food Azriel had brought with him to Exordor.

Ripe, fat berries, fruits of a multitude of colours, and still warm bread fill the ochre tabletop. Jugs and flagons of different juices and the like group in the middle. You're spoiled for choice.

Back home, it would be a feast. Once upon a time, you’d have probably sneered at the display, as you had once at Azriel.

Now, you think of Rhys' words.

You think about earning and deserving.

This change is one of the harder things for you to face… but you know it’s for the best.

The table is set for three. As you sit, you ponder if Cassian’s been setting a place for you each time, never knowing if you’d say yes—and wonder more if he found it aggravating, your constant closedoffness.

A glance at him only reveals his still friendly smile. There’s not a hint of annoyance.

Right. You’re friends.

Cassian takes the seat to your left, Azriel on your right, leaving you in the middle between them. Rhys had explained the uses and limits of the magic of the House to you already and as such, you had become familiar with it fetching meals to your room.

It’s been a plain affair. You’re used to at best, tasteless, and at worst, stomach-churning food. As long as it’s nutritional, it’s on the menu.

How are you supposed to know what else there is? Even the foods Azriel had brought with him weren’t as decadent as these before you.

You find yourself waiting, watching the plates on either side of you to see what they’ll choose. The rain continues outside, a gentle din on the sides of the House.

Cassian’s plate fills first.

You watch, wide-eyed, as several hot, flat brown discs flop onto his plate, still steaming. A drizzle of something thick and sweet follows, a soft caramel colour dolloping in the middle.

It smells heavenly.

“Have you ever had pancakes?” Azriel’s quiet voice from the other side of you speaks up.

You blink, tearing your eyes off Cassian’s breakfast to Azriel and gingerly shake your head.

Pancakes. You steal another glance at the plate and find the name to be aptly fitted.

Azriel’s plate has filled itself too but with something different. There’s some kind of grain, a pottle of something pink, with cubes of different fruit littered over the top.

“Would you like to try some?”

Your eyes dart up from Azriel’s plate to his face, realising he’s still nodding to the pancakes.

You’ll admit the pancakes look far better than whatever you’ve been asking of the House. While the bread supplied was fresher than anything you’d had before, you’d hardly had the imagination to conjure up something like pancakes.

Whatever your face looks like, Azriel can seem to read the answer in it.

“Cass,” He says, jutting his chin to his friend’s plate. “Give them a pancake, will you?”

Cassian, mouth currently full, turns to Azriel with a furrow between his brow. “But—” He starts, then stops. The furrow on his face softens as he glances down at you and, without swallowing, he says exaggeratedly, “Fine. Guess we can share.”

Then he spears two pancakes on his fork and slops them onto your waiting plate.

“You like syrup?” Cassian asks.

The question means nothing to you. From behind you, Azriel shakes his head no, answering for you. From what he recalls of your meal times together, you had screwed your nose up at the too-sweet fruits, too unused to it.

“Butter?” Cassian tries again.

“I suppose.” You answer, confused as to why he’s asking.

Cassian glances up and then a small bowl of softened butter materialises before you. He picks it up and tips it onto your two pancakes with a smile. Then he resumes his eating without another word.

Still hesitant, you shoot one more glance in Azriel’s direction.

You’ve been given food before, by Azriel himself, but not quite like this. Not sharing what’s already on someone’s plate. Some smaller, younger part of you almost wants to sniffle at the abject kindness.

Azriel’s already begun eating but the motion of your head draws his eyes. The small upturn of his lips is encouragement enough. Swallowing back the thickness in your throat, you dig in.

Pancakes… are pretty life-changing.

Azriel is right, you’re not such a fan of the sickly sweet brown fluid that coats the cakes, sweet enough to make your teeth ache. But the butter, melted and velvety with the fluffy pancake— gods.

You take one bite and then quickly stuff in two or three more, just in case Cassian suddenly decides he wants them back. Cassian guffaws at your rapid motions and follows suit, stuffing his mouth full.

He glances at you, catching your eye, both of you chewing through the delicious breakfast. Cassian raises his eyebrows with a pleased, smug smile as if to say I know, right?

You smile at him, without even thinking about it, shovelling the next bite in.

It melts on your tongue. Mother, you're kicking yourself a bit as you chew the mouthful slower this time, turning over every flavour. Turning down Cassian’s invite each morning has been turning down this.

You’re a moron. There’s no doubt you’ll be asking the House for this every morning—and night even, if you’re allowed.

It occurs to you then, as you’re on your fifth bite or so, that you could’ve easily summoned your own stack on pancakes. Or either male could’ve done it for you.

But no, instead Cassian had shared from his plate.

The pancakes suddenly taste sweeter than ever.

"Ah, y/n," Rhys' satiny voice tugs your attention up, to the Male himself, standing in the doorway of the kitchen. "Glad to find you here."

An age-old instinct of obeying commanding warriors sends your spine straightening, your chair scraping harshly against the stone floor.

Cassian snickers good-naturedly and you spot a shadow of Azriel's disappear into his ear—resulting a loud shriek from the warrior.

"You said you wouldn't do that anymore, you bastard!" He all but hisses, leaning forward on the table to glare past you.

Azriel gives a nonchalant shrug, his hazel eyes dancing to you playfully for a quick moment. Rhys and you both watch with varied levels of amusement and boredom.

"Yes, yes, that's enough now children." Rhys comments, a sly smile teasing at his mouth as he fiddles with the cuff of his sleeve.

Cassian, in his centuries old-age, sticks his tongue out in response—then pushes back on his chair so it’s balancing on its back legs, teetering.

Rhys regards him with one bored stare before his attention turns to you, his smile fading, expression turning more serious.

"I have a proposition for you."

Your mouth dries, nerves skittering under your skin. You swallow your mouthful. "A proposition? Like... bad?"

Rhys smiles, feeling your nervousness through your thinning mental wall. He gives it a soft tap to remind you and you inhale sharply, fortifying it instantly.

"Not at all." He assures you calmly. "It's to do with... Let's call it overdue earnings."

Instinctively, your gaze seeks out Azriel to your right.

Shadows swirling his shoulders, you're surprised yet again by how easily you seem to read him with just one quick glimpse of each other. How you can suddenly feel the tangible encouragement forming within you, just behind your ribs.

He smiles, like he knows more than he says, and casts his gaze back to his breakfast.

You glance at Cassian too, maybe your closest friend now, and he simply shrugs, none the wiser.

"What is it?"

Rhys wanders further forward, leaning to rest his forearms atop one of the empty chairs at the table. His violet gaze takes in two of his Inner Circle and decides if you don't mind them hearing, he doesn't either.

Besides, it's not as if it wasn't Azriel's own idea.

"As you know, due to the backward ways in many of Illyrian warcamps, females are not seen as warriors. While many allow them to train, Exordor..."

Rhys jaw clenches tightly over the name. "It had stricter rules that I could not interfere with. Please know, that is not without immense regret."

A glimmer of night ripples across the room as Rhys hard gaze burns into the table, lost in a haze of an angry memory.

Azriel clears his throat and then the night retracts rapidly, gone without a trace after a second. Rhys lifts his head, giving it a slight shake.

"My apologies. This proposition is not about that — this is about The Blood Rite."

Your brows jump, the words out his mouth the very last ones you were expecting to hear. The Blood Rite? The cutlery in your hands suddenly seems heavier. Your wings sink an inch.

As if the mention of it made them darker, the tattoos on the tan skin of each warrior around you seem to glow more prominently.

You swallow to try clear your dry mouth.

“What about it?” You croak.

“Given your circumstances, it’s understandable why partaking in it was not an option.” Rhys begins.

You expect his tone to take on a sympathetic lilt but it does no such thing.

“Given the level of skill that both Azriel and Cassian have seen from you,” He waves a casual hand between the two warriors. “I don’t believe it’s a question of if you’d survive.”

The knowledge that they’ve been discussing you, your skill, between them without you there—normally such a thing would make you prickly.

But with what Rhys says… knowing they’re vouching for you instead, the prickly feeling washes away to an embarrassed gratitude. They’re on your side, you have to remember.

“The proposition I have for you is to receive The Blood Rite ceremonial tattoos.”

The grip on your fork loosens, the utensil sliding an inch before you catch it again, but not before it hits the edge of the table with a loud bang. You jump at the noise, wings tucking closer on instinct.

“I—” Words die in your mouth, your eyes screwing shut a moment. When you speak, it’s with a bitter resignation. “I have not completed The Blood Rite. It’s— that- I would hardly be earning it.”

Azriel makes a quiet noise of disagreement beside you, eyes still on his plate, but says nothing more.

Rhys doesn’t look surprised at your rebuttal, merely rolling back his shoulders casually.

“Perhaps, that’s one way to view it. Perhaps there are others. Regardless, your Highlord is offering it, if it’s something you decide you want.”

Cassian scoffs a laugh at his casually thrown out title and you tense, not expecting such outright disrespect.

Rhys, however, simply rolls his eyes and with a flick of his hand sends Cassian’s still teetering chair backward.

Cassian barely saves himself, jolting forward to grip the edge of the table and delivering his brother a scathing glare. Rhys grins back, feline and taunting.

“Still sure you want to be friends with them?”

Azriel’s voice is just above a whisper, words soft and curling into your ear. You turn and find, with a jolt in your chest, that he’s much closer than you’re expecting, leaning over to be closer to you.

Mother.

It’s not as if you forget how beautiful Azriel is but this close, it's impossible to ignore.

His eyelashes are dark and long, his hazel eyes, soft and honey-like. The cupids bow of his lips looks plush. You can trace a scar that carries from his chin up his cheek.

You realise you’re staring after a long moment of silence — eyes darting away, you clear your throat.

“They’re better company than some, believe me.” You say, thinking back to Exordor with a glance back at Azriel.

He’s sat back in his seat and he gives a barely noticeable roll of his eyes. “Yeah, well, that competition is hardly fierce.”

A laugh titters out of you at that — and Azriel’s shadows spring up, as if in response.

Clearing his throat, Rhys calls your attention back to the conversation at hand (now that Cassian was done attempting to pelt him with bits of pancake, which he was subsequently misting, resulting in a fantastic aroma through the kitchen).

“It’s an offer.” Rhys reiterates kindly. “You don’t have to do anything you don’t wish to but… I implore you to think it over.”

He tilts his head toward the windows in the mountain side.

“Spend the day down in Velaris and consider it. And try to consider what we talked about too, about the things we feel we deserve.”

Straightening up, he taps the chair with his knuckles, preparing to leave you be.

“Whatever you choose, I hope you know that there is no wrong answer. Tattoos or not, amongst friends you are already considered a true warrior.”

And despite how the two males on either side of you nod, solemn and truthful, it didn’t purge the feeling that welled inside you—familiar and reminiscent of keeping a secret.

You wonder if you’ll ever stop feeling like a fraud.

—

Even with back to back training, only mere hours of slumber between each session, the gleam good sleep has given you is impossible to miss.

By now, Azriel has seen dozens of early mornings with you.

Back in Exordor, you had looked different in more than one way. Beyond the grime of the mountains and your justified, cold defensiveness, it was your eyes that betrayed you. Eyes that carried a tiredness that never left.

Azriel knew the feeling well.

In the Illyrian mountains, sleep is not rest.

Sleep is a sliver of refuge, letting your aching body recharge just enough to lurch back awake after a couple restless hours. Fuel to keep you going and nothing more.

But this morning, stopping at the threshold out to the balcony, you had peered up at the rain bucketing down and frowned.

Then with a silent huff, you had rubbed the sleep from your eyes and yawned into your hand.

Azriel, watching silently from across the courtyard, felt his shadows spin up in a tizzy at the sight — and he nearly blushed scarlet as they directly disobeyed his instructions to rein themselves in, a few shooting across the courtyard to greet you.

It was the first morning he’d seen you not tired, but sleepy. Azriel couldn’t even pretend it wasn’t adorable either.

He could only hide his smile and warm cheeks with a duck of his head, praying his shadows behaved himself.

But there was no disguising the tug on the mating bond, immeasurably proud and pleased for you.

Whether you noticed it or not, he didn’t know. You’d stepped down, onto the balcony and into rain, and promptly stalked towards the weapons rack, wings held high.

It had been one of the first things Azriel had admired about you—your drive, steely and unflinching.

Even now, thrown into a new place with unfamiliar faces, tossed into a whole new life, your determination doesn’t falter.

Fighting, training, honing yourself into a living weapon—seamlessly using blades as if they’re an extension of your very self—you commit yourself to training fiercely.

But… Azriel can tell that without direction, your ambition is beginning to make you listless.

You’re getting better—that there is no doubt about. Even the slight deafness in your left ear you’ve mastered well enough that if Azriel wasn’t paying attention, he might’ve missed it.

But in Exordor, there had been a goal.

Something to measure up to, to pour your determination towards — and without it in Velaris, Azriel worries about you.

There’s unfinished business waiting for you in Exordor. Your valiant mission is not yet abandoned and if you ever deigned to ask, Azriel knows he would take you there, without hesitation.

However, things have shifted whether you seem to realise it or not.

You’re no longer the only one in your corner. You haven’t been for some months.

True, there had been the matter of your… concealed identity wedged between you and Azriel and it had been reason enough to keep your plans small. You’d explained to him once before, the aid of being unnoticeable.

You’re not anymore. And with the terror of the events in Exordor still fresh enough in his mind, it’s impossible not to fear what might happen when you eventually return.

You aren’t used to living, just for yourself. Of that being enough of a reason to live, to thrive. Azriel fears your ambition will drive you to your death, no matter how honourable.

You would fight until you physically can’t anymore against the injustices of your home.

A threatening pain splices through his chest at the very thought — of just getting you back, gaining your forgiveness, getting the smallest glimpses of your happiness— just to have it ripped away from him again.

His mate, his heart warbles terribly.

His head settled resolutely, he trails behind you to the breakfast table, mission solidified. He needs to show you that your home isn’t among the mountains anymore.

Exordor may have been your birthplace but Velaris, here — with him, something quiet whispered —was where you belonged.

He just needed to show you.

—

“Have you flown since leaving Exordor?”

At the edge of a thousand steps, it’s certainly a warranted question.

The intensity of the early morning rain has waned with the day but it still falls softly. It adds a chill to the breeze — but it’s nothing comparable to the Mother’s Kiss.

You're all taking Rhys' plan and heading down into Velaris for the day. The staircase presents itself as one option but, given the knowledge of wards, there's a clearly more favourable one. Flying.

Azriel’s eyes drift up to the tips of your wings. The sight of the puckered, scarred spaces that once held stakes is enough to inspire a jolt of fierce anger. He swallows a shudder, well aware of the sensitivity of such wings.

Noticing his stare, you shift on your feet and tuck your wings in tighter. His gaze, while unjudging, is enough to make you fidget beneath the attention.

Azriel snaps his eyes back to your face.

“I haven’t. Madja told me I could, uh,” You answer with a wave of your hand, your gaze averted to the long, winding staircase ahead. “About a couple weeks ago but…”

Shrugging, you force yourself to meet Azriel’s gaze. “Well, where would I even go?”

Azriel’s heart wilts in his chest at your words. Nothing without purpose—it's the only way you know how to live.

You’ve had no prying and relentless brothers to push you into doing things as he had. No friends to remind you to live, as well as just survive.

No flying just for the fun of it. You’ve been starved of one of Azriel’s favourite things in the world.

Even him, your first friend, had only encouraged further training. A muscle feathers in Azriel’s jaw. A misgiving he’ll make sure to rectify.

Casting his mind back to a memory from some months ago, he recalls the fervent urge he felt upon returning to Velaris — the want to show you his home from the skies.

Focusing his mind back on the present, Azriel smiles down at you, his dark curls collecting drops of waters.

“Anywhere you like.”

Cassian takes his cue, launching himself up into the sky with ease.

Azriel watches him for a moment and then prepares to follow suit, bracing his thighs and shaking out his wings.

A glance at your face reveals the hint of hesitation.

He searches within him, gripping the bond tightly, to feel for your worry. In response, your anxieties skitter along to him, revealing your heartbreaking reservations and giving them to him — unknowingly soothing you in the process.

Still, Azriel pauses and then, heart in his throat, he lays a scarred hand on your shoulder in assurance. Prays you won’t shift away from him or his touch.

You don’t. In fact, a newer expression shutters across your face, eyelashes fluttering but you hold his stare.

“You won’t fall.”

You don’t question how he can name your fear so easily.

Instead, in a brave face of vulnerability, you ask, voice smaller than you intend, “How can you be sure?”

Azriel grips the bond tighter, letting his assurances pool in the form of unwavering confidence in you. He hopes you feel it — feel it, and believe it too.

“Because you’ve never fallen before. And because,” Azriel sighs softly, an ache creeping up his throat. His voice is low, his hazel eyes earnest. "You might've changed since Exordor but they don't get this. They don't get to take it from you. It's yours."

His hands slips from your shoulder and the bond tightens in his chest, as if urging him back. Azriel ignores it and turns back to face the rainy skies ahead.

Then his boots bear down against the stone as he takes flight, cutting through the drizzle of rain to climb up into the sky. The final step, he knows, has to be taken by you alone.

It doesn’t stop the uncertain waver in Azriel’s chest at leaving you one step behind.

But his faith in you is steadfast.

And a moment later, he’s proven right to do so as an unimaginable pulse of joy shoots down the bond, molten hot.

It’s raw, unfiltered relief.

It mingles with a joy so potent that Azriel’s shadows droop against his neck, as if snuggling up to the blazing warm feeling.

He falters, dipping in altitude momentarily, before he remembers to keep his wings moving.

Through the gloom of the day, Azriel feels you before he sees you coming — though the moment you’re in view, the familiar figure of an Illyrian warrior in flight, your radiancy is all he can see.

“You were right!” You call across the sky, unable to cage the glee in your voice.

There’s an unsteadiness to your motions, adjusting to the loss of drag due to your news scars, but it does nothing to tamp your happiness. You soar towards him through the rain, twirling in an elegant barrel roll that boasts your years of flight.

And it dawns on him, the underlying motive you had admitted to that underpinned the lie you had spun.

What heart-wrenching words had you uttered to him? I just wanted to keep my wings.

Azriel thanks the Mother, the Cauldron, and every star in the sky that you get to.

“I’m only sorry it’s not a better day for it.” Azriel says as you drift to his side, raising his voice so you can hear him. Flight is noisy, even if you’re travelling idly as the pair of your are.

You fly a few metres higher and then glide down with an easy precision, grinning, your face misted from the rain.

“I think it’s perfect.” You call back. Azriel can feel it, trickling along the bond like sweetened syrup, you really mean it.

Waiting leisurely further ahead, it’s evident that Cassian’s patience is waning.

Dipping back and joining the line up, he glides alongside you with a smile that promises mischief.

“Oh, so she can fly!” He drawls, arms tucking up behind his head lazily. “But can she race?”

His brows raise in clear competition and Azriel’s about to remind you that you don’t have to entertain all of Cassian’s antics — when his brother straightens out, shouting, “Go!” and jetting off forward.

You splutter for just one second. “I don’t even know where to go-!”

The end of your sentence blurs as you take off after Cassian, not a clue where you’re going but too competitive to not rise to the challenge. Azriel grins, watching for a moment as you tuck in your wings and dive to pick up speed, nearly disappearing in the fog of the rain.

Your fierce delight streaks along the bond and it’s what Azriel follows as he takes off after you, the invisible string leading his way, glowing like a shooting star.

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suliigwp · 15 days ago

Text

CHPATER ONE IN: MADMAX— MIRRORED HEARTS

Half Past You.

Max Verstappen x OC! Maxine

SULI: IT IS HERE FINALLY PART ONE I cannot promise how fast I'll finish this— also, the twitter pages will be written down mostly because I want this to be a long chapter with many smau parts and the limit to photos is 10 so😔 Tumblr please change that stupid limit — HOPE YOU LIKE THIS OMG

PLEEEASE ignore the scrambled photos with different girls and different time periods😭 max is MV33 in this bestie

ALSO DISCLAIMER you can imagine yourself as Maxine and Anastasia all you want, I just needed names so we could tell them apart and a little personality, other than that, you're the thing bestie

Warnings: none

2025

The energy in the arena is palpable, the kind that tastes electric in your mouth. Fans are screaming, crying, shaking in sequined jackets and worn-out tour shirts, each one of them clutching their own version of Maxine and Anastasia’s music like scripture.

This is the final show of the tour.

A soft dim begins to sweep over the crowd, a spotlight cutting down from the rafters like a holy blade, landing on the grand piano that waits at the center of the massive stage. Anastasia walks out first, all grace and slow steps, her silhouette greeted by the sound of thousands. A soft smile on her face, a blue Williams shirt—55 Sainz— on her back, wearing it proudly over her black skirt.

Then Maxine appears.

She walks — calm, grounded, sure. An expression that was rare in the past, brows relaxed. Red bull shirt—1 Verstappen.

Her mic is already in hand. She smiles. Her eyes scan the crowd — glowing phone screens, trembling hands, glitter-stained cheeks.

She stands there, silhouetted against the shifting lights, and says into the mic, her voice steady, intimate:

“Do you know what time it is?”

The crowd screams, but it fades quickly, as if they know what she’s going to say next matters.

“I don’t even have to explain it anymore.”

She glances toward Anastasia, who’s now seated at the piano, her fingers already hovering over the keys. They lock eyes — a quiet knowing, the kind only sisters by fire and blood can share.

“You know the story."

And with that, she nods to Anastasia.

The first chord rings out like breath in winter — cold, delicate, sharp.

A sound that lives in your ribcage.

The screen behind them goes dark.

Maxine steps into the center of the light, her shadow cast across the floor like memory. Her fingers curl tighter around the mic. Her eyes flutter shut.

And before she can even open her mouth, the crowd begins to sing — a soft wave of voices rising like prayer:

"I was right on time... you were half past gone..."

Her lips part. Her eyes open. But she lets them sing.

A beat later, she picks it up, her voice sliding in like a ghost returning home:

"And I was still holding on, To something we already left behind..."

The camera pans to the crowd. Rows upon rows of people sobbing. Clutching each other. Some mouthing the words, others screaming them, but all of them feeling it. Their love for her. For him. For what this song meant.

Maxine moves slowly across the stage, her voice steady even as her eyes scan the sea of lights. Her hand brushes over her stomach, over her heart, over the mic stand. Muscle memory. Pain memory.

And somewhere — in the private rows of the VIP box, Max sits.

He’s still.

He’s watched her perform this song dozens of times. Watched her relive what they went through. But tonight feels like a full circle.

Because she’s not crying this time.

She sings:

"It was half past you when I lost me too, And I’ve been crawling back ever since... haven’t you?"

The screen behind her flickers.

At first: blank. Then slowly on the screen appeared the cover of the album — "Track Twelve"

His glowing blue eye through his helmet.

The arena erupts.

"I couldn’t leave you. Even when I had to."

A breath.

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

2019

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@cursedf1edits

the only madmax i acknowledge is max verstappen sorry not sorry 💅

9.2K Retweets • 32K Likes

@maxinespilled

max verstappen??? the guy with the helmet??? no bffr. maxine WALKED so he could run

3.1K Retweets • 21K Likes

@f1simp420

me looking up #madmax for verstappen content and ending up in a stan war with a singer’s fanbase called the MAXILLAS??????

1.9K Retweets • 11K Likes

@theeindieoracle

“the only madmax i know is max verstappen” — uncultured behavior tbh

4.6K Retweets • 28K Likes

@trackrat_tears

not me discovering a whole ass artist because i was trying to find a max verstappen helmet edit... maxine kinda ate tho

✨💀🩷

778 Retweets • 6.9K Likes

@velvetmaxine

y’all do realize maxine has had “madmax” on her bandcamp bio since 2016 right?? LIKE be fr

2.2K Retweets • 14K Likes

@maxverstappen_nl

i came here for red bull racing and ended up crying to a song about lost youth and soft bruises. thanks maxine ig

🫠

1.1K Retweets • 8.5K Likes

@spotifywars

maxine stans and max verstappen stans fighting over the tag #madmax every week is the best crossover since batman vs superman

1.3K Retweets • 9K Likes

@madmaxblends

max verstappen pushing limits. maxine screaming into a mic about her ex. same energy. #madmax

6.7K Retweets • 20.1K Likes

@MaxWellActually

theory: they’re secretly dating and the chaos is a PR stunt.🤔🤔🤔

4.4K Retweets • 18K Likes

@trenchpoet

the shared fandom is giving enemies to lovers fanfic potential and i’m ready

817 Retweets • 7.3K Likes

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

INT. BACKSTAGE DRESSING ROOM – EARLY EVENING – LONDON

The air is thick with hair spray, soft pop from a Bluetooth speaker drifting beneath the low buzz of crew voices outside the door. The mirror lights reflect off scattered compacts, water bottles, cords, and a pair of high heels long abandoned in the corner.

Maxine, barefoot, sits cross-legged in the plush makeup chair, eyes glued to her phone. Her eyeliner is perfect. Her nails are chipped.

Across from her, Anastasia is stretched dramatically across the little velvet couch, one arm hanging off the edge, iPad on her chest playing something they’ve both stopped paying attention to. There’s glitter on her cheekbone that neither of them put there.

A pause. Then—

Maxine breaths out softly. "...No."

Anastasia, Half asleep, muttered. “What.”

“No, like... no no. You’re not ready.”

She swipes, then stifles a laugh with the back of her hand.

Anastasia Grimaces. “Is it your ex?”

Maxine Huffed. “I WISH. It’s worse.”

Anastasia lifts her head just enough to squint at Maxine. “I literally don't have the emotional energy for anything worse than your ex. Tell me.”

“Okay. Context: have you ever heard of Max Verstappen?”

Her twin raised a brow. “The driver?”

Maxine modded. “F1 guy. Very fast. Very intense.”

She turns her phone around slowly, dramatically, and shows her the screen.

It’s a tweet. Two-panel image.

On the left: Max Verstappen, mid-race, face hidden behind a helmet, the blur of speed behind him.

On the right: Maxine, mid-performance, hair wild, eyes feral, arm thrown toward a crowd of thousands.

Caption:

> “don’t know which madmax scares me more tbh 💀💀💀”

Anastasia is quiet for two seconds.

Then—

She laughed loudly. “Oh My God!"

She launches upright, grabs the phone from Maxine and zooms in on both photos.

“No. This is SO cursed. Who did this."

“Wait—wait look at the replies—”

They scroll.

“the only madmax i know is verstappen”

“ok but you’ve clearly never seen her LIVE”

“uncultured behavior tbh”

“bro i literally thought this was a crossover episode”

“help they’ve both got the same energy. violence. zero patience. speed.”

Maxine's already crying with laughter. Through wheezing she says. “They’re making edits. They put me over a race montage.”

"Stop, Show me.”

She does.

A fancam, the tweet says:

> “madmax supremacy 🖤🔥”

Footage of Verstappen overtaking in Monaco cuts violently into Maxine screaming the final chorus of “Heaven Help My Enemies.”

Drums sync with engines.

Flashing lights blend with racetrack flares.

It shouldn’t work.

It absolutely does.

“This is fanfiction. I’m watching fanfiction in real time.”

Maxine chuckled. “Shut up. That’s so embarrassing.”

But she’s biting back a grin, already swiping through more. The hashtag is growing.

#madmax

#madmaxduetwhen

#madmax2fast2furious

She pauses on one concert photo. Someone’s holding up a sign:

“ONLY MADMAX THAT MATTERS 🖤🖤🖤”

Maxine takes a screenshot. Opens Instagram. Hesitates. “Okay. Do I acknowledge this? Just... lightly?”

Anastasia is absolutely no help. She’s crying from laughter again, curled into the couch like it’s too much.

“Please. Be vague though.”

Maxine, eyes gleaming, She hits post. Stares at it. Blinks.

“Oh my god what if he sees it.”

“Oh he’s definitely going to see it.”

The door opens. A production assistant pokes in to say five minutes to stage.

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

instagram

maxinethemachine posted a story.

Caption—"it tastes amazing btw"

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

INT. HOTEL ROOM – MONACO – LATE NIGHT

The room is dim, lit only by the soft orange glow of the city bleeding through the open balcony doors. Monaco still hums outside — boats clinking in the harbor, distant laughter echoing off marble walls. The afterparty is somewhere else, but Max Verstappen is here. Alone. Legs stretched out across a hotel bed that still smells faintly like champagne and engine oil.

He’s tired — the kind of tired that sinks into your bones — but he can’t sleep. The adrenaline hasn't left him. Neither has the noise in his head.

Phone in hand. Thumb scrolling. Thoughtless at first.

It starts with a random tweet.

“The only MADMAX I acknowledge is Max Verstappen 💅”

He scrolls past.

Another one.

“Y’all need to get some culture. The OG MadMax wears glitter eyeliner and rips hearts out on stage.”

He frowns.

Click.

It’s a fan edit. A brutal one. Half the screen is him — helmet down, Red Bull livery, sparks flying behind his car on the straight. The other half? Her. Maxine. Hair wild, body bent over a mic, screaming lyrics with her whole soul. Cut together to the sound of her chorus — something dreamy and violent, something that fits both of them too well.

He watches the full clip.

Twice.

Then checks the tag.

#madmax

It’s chaos.

People arguing. People laughing. People asking if they’re related, or dating, or if it’s some “cosmic twin flame crossover.” It’s meme pages. It's concert photos and race stills side-by-side. It's —

He stops.

Maxine’s face again, but different this time. A screen recording. A story she just posted.

His breath catches.

He taps into her profile. Waits for the circle to load.

There she is.

Her eyes never leave the camera. Never blink.

One brow arches, barely perceptible.

And then it’s over.

Two seconds, max.

But the damage is done.

Max stares at the screen for another five.

His jaw twitches — not in annoyance, not exactly. Something warmer. Amused. Curious. Caught off-guard.

A tiny scoff slips from his mouth. He lets the phone drop to his chest, arm sprawled out beside him as he stares up at the ceiling. A thousand thoughts move through him in silence.

Then, like it’s instinct, he reaches for his phone again.

Then he opens Instagram.

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

maxverstappen followed you.

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

maxverstappen

Song • Faster by Maxine The Machine

Liked by redbull, lando and 796,929 others.

maxverstappen: another great weekend👏 thank you to the team! Onto the next

See all comments.

machinegirlie: OH SO YOU’RE A FAN NOW?????

madmaxinefans: the song choice… THE SONG CHOICE…

formulaforchaos: “Faster” by Maxine The Machine is such a loud choice for someone who’s never acknowledged the #madmax edits 😭😭😭

mercedesamgf1: We can’t even be mad tbh that song slaps

lanlandoz: Lando definitely picked the song for him don’t lie

redbullracerz: This is basically a soft launch and I refuse to be told otherwise

charles_leclerc: Max 👏 is 👏 faster 👏

glitterandgasoline: first the story post. now this. is this a duet rollout disguised as a motorsport career

maxinevault: She sips red bull in a story, he posts this 12 hours later. If they’re not texting I’m eating my steering wheel.

notmaxine: no bc he knew what he was doing. he scrolled past all the madmax memes and went “let me turn this up to 100 real quick”

lando: could’ve at least tagged her 💀

cheeky_sainz: If Max and Maxine collab, I want to be paid emotional damages in advance.

numberonestan: sir ur face card is never declining pls take a break

maxinexs: I thought y’all were joking about the soft launch but now I’m scared. This is way too loud for him.

redbullracing: Song choice is 🔥 just saying

cleaningmytears: This man’s jawline deserves a separate podium

oracle: 🫡 faster data, faster tracks, faster music?

burningrubberandbridges: Max Verstappen posting Maxine’s song??? he’s not even trying to be subtle now I’m SICK

haasf1team: We see what you did there 👀

f1: A champion with taste 🏁🎶

slowburnsyndrome: he could crash into my heart and I’d thank him

spotify: And just like that, “Faster” is trending again. Who’s surprised?

verstappenswife69: so when is the wedding or do I have to plan it myself

queenofspeedxo: the cake though

Your photo was liked by maxinethemachine.

maxinethemachine followed you back.

...

@/maxverstappen

every time i hear “madmax” it’s never about me anymore 😐

🕒 Feb 18, 2019 · 💬 13.1K Retweets 💖 78K Likes

->@/maxineonline

sorry not sorry 🧍🏻‍♀️

🕒 Feb 18, 2019

->@madmaxnation

DID SHE—

->@formulaicchaos

ok this is actually the funniest timeline to exist

He didn’t mean to be here.

Or maybe he did.

Max told himself he was “just curious.” The tweet thread had spiraled, memes exploded, Anastasia was tweeting unhinged things again (he’d never admit how often he checked her account now), and Maxine’s voice had been everywhere. It was getting harder to avoid it — not that he wanted to.

But now he was standing at the back of a stadium with a VIP pass around his neck, hat low, hoodie up, arms folded.

The lights went dark. The scream of the crowd surged like a wave, loud and electric, shaking the floor.

And then they walked out.

Maxine first, walking to center stage with that cool, calm fire in her eyes — long black coat, glittering boots, mic in hand like a sword. Anastasia followed her, flashing a sharp smile like she’d already won. Together, they owned the whole stage before even singing a note.

Max blinked as the screen behind them lit up with one bold word in all caps:

TIMES AGAIN

The audience lost it.

Max just… smiled.

...

Maxine looked different up here — freer, louder, alive. Her voice filled the arena like thunder and silk, cutting through bass and synths with power and pain. And every so often — whether planned or not — her eyes drifted into the crowd like she was searching for someone.

“Two kinds of Max in the world, and both think they’re the main character.”

The crowd screamed. She added, off-mic, “They’re both right.”

Max laughed under his breath. She was chaos.

Midway through a ballad, Maxine slowed her pacing. Her voice softened. Behind her, light scattered in soft white rays.

Then her eyes caught his.

Not for long. Just a flash. But long enough.

...

maxverstappen posted on his story.

Caption:

“Not mad. Just MadMax.” Tagged: @/maxinethemachine, @/anastasiaagain

•Song playing: "Kill The Lights (Live Version)"

...

@/maxineonline

was that max watching maxine or max watching madmax or max being mad that max is madmax

🕒 Feb 24, 2019 · 💬 18K Likes

->@/maxverstappen

yes.

🕒 Feb 24, 2019

...

@/maxineonline

📸 repost of meme:

“when your name’s max and you’re not even the main madmax anymore 💅”

Caption: it’s ok he can be my max too

->@/maxverstappen

ok but which max is which

🕒 Mar 1, 2019 · 💬 11.9K Retweets 💖 80K Likes

->@/maxineonline

we should meet to figure it out

->@madmaxdefenseforce

HELLO?????

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

-----Quote Tweets:

@/f1brainrot

NAH SHE KNOWS WHAT SHE’S DOING

@/madmaxfansunited

oh we're COOKED

@/mvasababe

wait is this like a dare 😭 bc i will personally fund it

@/maxverstappen liked your tweet.

-----💬 Top Replies

@/maxineonline

what if i kiss myself, do i win?

->@anastasiaagainofficial

you win every day darling 💋

@/carloslikespizza

nah imagine being max verstappen waking up to this

@/f1teaaccount

🧍🏽‍♀️he saw it. of course he saw it.

@/theoversteerfiles

I am visibly sweating

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

redbullracing posted a story.

Caption: "Ready for Quali! Special guests incoming👀👥🗣️"

...

It only felt like yesterday Maxine had been showing Anastasia the funny tweets at backstage and now they're both walking into the paddock, cameras flashing everywhere as they laughed, being escorted by a red bull employee to their garage.

"This place is crazy" muttered Anastasia as she looked around.

"I know right" Maxine whispered back. "We should definitely give max the VIP pass to our next concert, and whoever's the guy that invited us."

"You mean the team principal of Red Bull Racing?"

"Yeah, whatever."

The paddock was already buzzing, filled with journalists, photographers, team members, and sun slicing down through the awnings. But nothing — nothing — prepared them for the ripple that went through the atmosphere the second they walked in.

The camera flashes started before they even reached the gate.

Maxine was in her element. A deep crimson blouse, black tailored trousers, sleek shades, hair swept back in a loose twist. Her Red Bull pass caught the sunlight as it bounced off her earrings. She walked with that effortless kind of poise that made even the security turn and blink.

Beside her, Anastasia was pure trouble in thigh-high boots, a vintage oversized Red Bull windbreaker hanging off her shoulder like she’d owned the team for years. She was chewing gum. Slowly. Boldly. And pretending not to notice the F1 drivers doing double takes as they passed.

“Subtle,” Maxine muttered under her breath.

“I’m not here to be subtle,” Anastasia grinned, adjusting her sunglasses. “I’m here to cause a little concern.”

The sisters had been invited — a quiet personal invite after the Red Bull energy drink story incident had sparked absolute chaos online, thanks to Anastasia tweeting:

“My favorite Max is whoever kisses the other Max first.”

Which, naturally, went viral in 42 countries.

Inside the Red Bull suite, Max Verstappen stood by a monitor, post-FP1, a towel draped around his neck, still half in his suit.

He was mid-sip of water when the footage came through.

Two women walking through the paddock gates.

One wearing his name.

One tweeting that tweet.

Both of them walking like they didn’t have a single fear in the world.

He nearly choked.

“No way. They're here?” he asked quietly.

Alex, standing beside him and already scrolling through Twitter, didn’t even look up. “Yup. And the internet’s already losing its mind. You should probably go say hi before the memes do it for you.”

They met outside the hospitality entrance — it wasn’t dramatic, wasn’t staged, just one of those perfect moments where everything aligned.

Maxine had stopped to look at one of the Red Bull display cars raising a brow at her sister as she made some stupid excuse up to 'go help someone I think they fell' and wandered into The McLaren Hospitality. Shaking her head at her hour younger sisters antics, she turned back to the display. A soft breeze caught her blouse, and she turned her head just slightly — just enough for Max to see her properly.

He froze for the smallest second.

She looked… like her music.

Soft and bold. Polished but wild. Dangerous in a way that felt almost poetic.

She noticed him first — of course she did — her gaze flicked to him, measured, steady.

Then her lips pulled into a smile.

“You must be the other Max,” she said as he approached, offering her hand like they were at a diplomatic summit instead of a Grand Prix.

Max’s smile came slow. “You’ve been stealing my name,” he replied, taking her hand. “I figured it was time I took it back.”

Photographers, who’d been keeping a respectful distance, surged closer at the contact. The two Maxes didn’t even flinch.

They turned toward the cameras like pros.

Max’s arm slid around her waist — a smooth, practiced move — and Maxine tilted her head just slightly toward him, lips parted in a soft grin.

Click. Click. Click.

It was over in seconds.

But the internet? Dead. Absolutely dead.

...

Liked by anastasiaagain, lando, pierregasly and 1.2M others

maxinethemachine "Double trouble. 🥤🏁 #MADMAX²"

Tagged: @/maxverstappen

landono: l was there. it was hot.

spotify: Streaming all of Maxine’s discography while crying over this.

netflix: Drive to Survive just changed genres.

fentybeauty: Maxine what gloss is that please we’re begging

Liked by maxinethemachine, carlossainz55 and 1.3M others.

maxverstappen I guess we can share the name

Tagged: @/maxinethemachine

redbullracing: Can we make this a team partnership or what?

F1: We’re just watching at this point 😭

haasf1team: Honestly we’re rooting for them.

dior: Icons.

...

Qualifying was over. The crowd was dispersing, and golden hour was bleeding slow light across the paddock, soaking it in this kind of honey-drenched stillness.

Max had finished P2 — not quite pole, but close. He still had adrenaline in his veins, heat in his skin from the run, and his fireproofs rolled down to his waist. The top half of his race suit hung loose, sleeves tied around his hips, Red Bull logo stark across his chest.

He wasn’t looking for anyone, not really.

But he found her.

Maxine.

She was behind the garage, past the barricades, where the crowd thinned and the air turned quiet. Her lanyard still swung from her neck, half-tucked under a leather jacket. She’d slipped out of the noise and was leaned against the wall, holding a bottle of water, head tilted up toward the fading sun like she was trying to memorize the shape of it.

He stopped a few steps away.

“You hiding from fans?” he asked, voice a little hoarse from the comms shouting.

Maxine turned to him, and for a second, she didn’t speak. Just smiled, slow and knowing.

“Something like that,” she said.

“You missed a good quali,” he said, and she raised an eyebrow.

“I didn’t miss it,” she said, holding up her phone and tilting the screen toward him. A livestream, paused on his second lap. “I watched. You almost had him.”

Max huffed a short laugh, scratching the back of his neck. “Yeah. Almost.”

“You’re still the crowd favorite,” she said.

He leaned against the wall beside her, a little closer than polite, but not quite touching. He could smell whatever perfume she wore — expensive and addictive and edged with something sharp.

“You talk like you’re not part of the crowd,” he said.

She looked at him again, really looked this time.

“I’m not,” Maxine said. “I’m just visiting your world.”

He didn’t know what to say to that. Not right away.

The silence wasn’t uncomfortable. It was charged — like the echo of a good song in a stadium after the lights come back on. The kind you don’t want to end.

She broke it first.

“I saw the memes,” she said, biting back a smile. “About Mad Max.”

“You started half of them,” Max said, deadpan.

“Anastasia started them,” Maxine corrected, smug. “I just gave the people what they wanted.”

He smirked, looking sideways at her. “You’re dangerous.”

She shrugged. “You’re fast.”

A beat.

“Ever driven anything with more than two wheels?” he teased.

“I’ve crashed a jet ski,” she said. “Does that count?”

He snorted, leaning his head back against the wall. “Not even a little bit.”

Another silence. This one softer.

“I get it now,” she said suddenly.

He looked at her. “Get what?”

“You,” she said. “All of this. The obsession. Why people worship you.”

Max frowned slightly. “Worship’s a strong word.”

“You’re very humble for someone who gets screamed at by thousands every weekend,” she said.

He looked down for a moment, then up again.

“I don’t care about the screaming,” Max said, voice lower now, more honest. “I care about the racing. That’s the part that matters.”

Maxine nodded slowly.

“I respect that,” she said, quiet.

Another long beat.

He turned toward her fully then, his shoulder brushing hers just slightly. She didn’t move.

“You’re not what I expected,” he said.

Maxine raised an eyebrow, playful again. “What were you expecting?”

He considered her. “Less real.”

She blinked.

For a second, her wall cracked just a bit — not broken, just enough for him to see through.

Then she smiled again. A softer one.

“I get that a lot,” she said.

Their eyes lingered. Neither of them moved. The sun dipped lower. Somewhere far behind them, the sounds of packing up the paddock grew louder.

But here — in this little slip of light, in this quiet corner of the chaos — time held its breath.

“I should go find my sister,” Maxine said eventually, standing up straighter.

“She’s probably still trolling me online,” Max replied, lips twitching.

“She’s very good at that,” Maxine said. “Be careful.”

He tilted his head. “And what about you?”

“What about me?”

“Should I be careful?”

She didn’t answer right away.

Instead, she leaned in, brushed past him — close enough that her shoulder grazed his chest. Her voice near his ear, low and velvet.

“You’d like it too much if I said yes.”

And then she walked away.

Leaving him grinning like an idiot in the soft golden light, heart a little louder than before.

Taglist, comment to be added;

@angstynasty @cryinghotmess @mits-vi @dramaticpiratellamas @mimisweetz @mrssaturday @chiara8104 @moonlight-girls-posts @linnygirl09 @rue-t @danielricroll @the-vex-archives @trees-are-books @blodwyn4u @yoruse @ccrickett-t @l-a-u-r-aaa @multifans-things @woderfulkawaii @azrinableuet @mayax2o07 @everyday-is-sunday365 @devilacot @faithxyu

Make sure you can be tagged!

106 notes · View notes

sungbeam · 20 days ago

Text

BIRDS OF PREY — twelve

nonidol!kim hongjoong x f!reader

living in gray areas of your city, out of the way of gangs and mafia territories, could only keep you safe for so long. it was only a matter of time before you began running into problems, or rather, problems began running into you.

▷ genre, warnings. nc-17, strangers 2 lovers, slow burn, mafia au, angst, swearing, mentions of alcohol, mentions of money laundering, implications of an uncomfortable workplace situation, just sus feelings in general

▷ word count. 6.9k

« prev · m.list · next »

a/n: i literally just finished formatting this lol almost didn't make it to uploading in time, this week has been... woof. anyways, a much longer chapter this week as promised

CHAPTER TWELVE: THE ENEMY OF MY ENEMY

LACE AGAINST BARE SKIN would never not be a thrilling sensation: the slight friction, the silken loops and designs, the delicate weight of material wrapped around a place it had never been before.

The thigh garter was your newest addition to your uniform at Dionysus. The day after your conversation with Hongjoong, you'd gone out to hunt for the most subtle and chic version of an unsubtle and sensual accessory. It rode around mid thigh, just slightly above your knee and slightly below the hemline of your dress. You let yourself into Sakura's apartment about an hour before your shift, a giddy skip in your heart rate.

Sakura twirled around in her chair, her legs criss-crossed beneath her, with a twinkle in her eye. “Well?” she asked expectantly.

You unbuttoned part of your coat and let your right leg slip through to give her a peek.

She squeaked, hands going to her mouth and eyes widened in doe-like wonder. “It's perfect.”

“Glad you think so,” you laughed, tucking your leg back beneath the coat fabric. “I had no idea what I was looking for, if I'm being honest.”

“Well, your subconscious must have known,” she offered. As you made your way over to her station, Sakura rotated herself around to grab a small box from her desk. She fiddled with it between her fingers—it was wrapped in dark wrapping paper and no bigger than the size of a phone. “I was entrusted to make sure this ended up in your hands, by the way.”

Your brows twisted into a cocktail of curiosity and confusion. It was clearly not something Sakura herself got you by how she presented it, but you also couldn't imagine what would be inside.

“Who's it from?” you asked as you took the box from her and inspected it. The wrapped paper hugged the edges of the box so tightly, it was as if the shiny paper was the box itself. It must have been professionally wrapped, like the complimentary wrapping that luxury brands did for their thousand-dollar perfumes. (You had an old coworker who used to work at a high-end perfume counter with stories galore.) There wasn't any real heft to the box, meaning it wasn't an actual phone inside, nor was it likely a perfume.

You began searching for a way to unwrap it without completely obliterating the expensive paper.

“The Captain.”

Riiip. Your hand slipped. “From him? What is it?” Your movements were slightly less careful now, more eager to find out what was inside rather than preserving the paper.

She shrugged. “Dunno. Wooyoung had it sent over and said it was important that you got it. He said it was for the assignment or something, but that's all I know.”

“He didn't bring it himself?” you joked. What a silly thing to ask, you thought. Of course, Hongjoong wouldn't bring it himself. What did you think you were, special?

With the paper discarded, you were met with a sleek paper box. You carefully began to lift the lid off the bottom half.

“They've got the GV mafia in town tonight,” Sakura said. “He must be busy.”

Right, you totally knew that. ('I could probably kiss you’ was only a spur of the moment phrase, of course.)

You and Sakura leaned over to both see what was inside the box. Upon a bed of black tissue paper sat a slim, golden tube. It glistened in the LED lights, winking up at you. The thought slid into your head then; there was only one thing this could be.

“Wow,” Sakura was the first to say. “That's expensive.”

Your eyes widened as you took the tube out and placed the empty box on the table. “How do you know?” you asked, running your thumb over the small engraving on the top side of the cap—an eight pointed star.

“It's from Polaris—y’know, that real subtle luxury brand that slides under everyone's radar,” she said while gesturing with her hand and nodding. “Their stuff is super nice, but it's really hard to get unless you've got pull in the Lunar Crossing.”

The Lunar Crossing was another section of the city you had yet to venture into. It was a smaller sector ruled by House Mun, but was by no means any less wealthy. From your own knowledge, most of the city’s wealthy made the Crossing their permanent residence. If Hongjoong was giving you something from Polaris, then it meant he did have connections spanning that far. Not to mention the fact that you only just spoke to him last night.

With great care, you slid the gold cap off its vessel. It was a slim tube of lipstick, the color a rich and dark red, bordering on a berry-like hue. You hadn’t gone out to find a new lip color to try yet; it was as if he read your mind.

You rubbed a bit of the product onto the back of your hand, and the two of you marveled at the glowy and smooth swatch of color. “Great formula,” you muttered, smudging the color around with your finger. You tipped the lipstick tube upside down to note the shade name, Aurora. Part of you didn’t want to know how much this little thing cost.

“And he knows your color,” Sakura pointed out while raising her index finger. She twisted around to grab a small pocket mirror, handing it to you. “He has excellent taste.”

It was hard to rein in your smile so you could properly apply the lip product to your lips, and in order to hide the flutter that was bubbling up in your chest. As you blurred out the product on the outer lines of your mouth, you wondered what he saw when he picked out this color for you, or if he already had this color in mind. Either way, this was yours now.

Aurora turned out to be a million-dollar investment. You were convinced that, no matter the price tag, this shade of Polaris lip product would be worth it for the amount of attention and tips you were receiving tonight. Or maybe it was the thigh garter and the way you batted your eyelashes, but either way, something was working.

Adrenaline bullied its way through your veins as your cheeks and calves ached. Though your pockets and tip pouch were heavy from the amount of rolled bills nearly spilling out of them, your skin was sticky and crawling from the sheer weight of eyes on you. The short hemline of your dress was one thing, but the added lace to that region meant that there would definitely be customers looking far below your eyes.

It was worth it, you reminded yourself as you unloaded your pockets briefly at the cash register and went to order another round of liquor for one of your tables. This had to be worth it, right? It wasn’t as if you had never been made uncomfortable by looks given to you in these work settings, but encouraging it was another thing. It was no longer just for the money, but for a promotion, for access.

As you made your way over to the nearest bartender, you felt a pair of eyes searing into the side of your head. You lifted your attention in that direction, eyes adjusting in the dim club lights—then recognition jerked through you and made your heart palpitate.

There was a man leaning against the far end of the bar. The first and last time you saw him, he was clad in a three-piece suit, but tonight, he only wore a dress shirt undone at the collar over a pair of slacks. But the piercings in his left eyebrow hadn’t changed, and neither had the dimples in his cheeks.

You felt blood rush up to your neck and face. Goddamn it, out of all the people to have stumbled into this place… You made your way over to him, slapping on a friendly smile. “Hi, handsome. New here?” Play along, play along, play along…

Chan’s expression flickered for a moment, and that confusion was still evident as he returned your greeting. “Hey. I didn’t know you worked here,” he said. You saw his eyes go to the name tag clipped to the left side of your dress. “Dove,” he read aloud. He slipped into an easy smile as the pieces clicked into place, whatever those pieces might have been. “Sorry, must have mistaken you for someone else.”

Relief washed over your shoulders. As long as he didn't address you by your actual name, you could deal with everything else. “I get that a lot,” you laughed. “Welcome to Dionysus—feel free to make yourself comfortable and let me know if you need anything.”

“Thank you,” he said brightly.

You continued on your way to collect your next round. Armed with a bucket of ice and prosecco, fingers grasping four glasses with acrobatic precision and precariousness, you weaved your way through patrons and coworkers and lounges. As you went, you fought to not turn your head to search for Chan somewhere in the club. There wasn't much reason for you to be worried about him, only that he knew your real name, but that in itself could raise red flags with the managers.

Bumping into someone you knew at work was awkward enough. It was like seeing your grade school teacher at the grocery store. Ryujin would find this hilarious—

Ryujin. You nearly stopped cold. What if he told Ryujin, or mentioned it to her?

After taking a lap around your section to check on your customers, you began to trek back toward the bar. The flashing dark violet and white lights were something to get used to, but you could no longer see Chan. He must have been seated somewhere then, or maybe on the dance floor.

An arm brushed yours, and you snapped back to attention.

Sabine's service smile flickered. “You okay? You look frazzled.”

Déjà vu, much? You shook your head. “I'm fine,” you assured her. “Thought I saw someone I knew.”

“If anyone's giving you trouble—”

“It's nothing like that, don't worry,” you said. “If I'm worried, I'll call a bouncer.”

She nodded, pressing her lips together. “Good. By the way, Ha-yi wants to talk to you over by the front counter.”

Your brows creased together. “Oh, did she say what for?”

“Nothing bad, I'm sure,” she replied. Before she continued on her way, she nudged you with the side of a glass she was carrying. “You look good tonight, girl.”

“So do you!” you chirped back with a grin, the two of you departing.

As you made your way towards the front, dodging drunk clubgoers and trays of liquor, you caught the eyes of Lee Ha-yi, one of the floor managers. The floor managers didn’t do any bussing or waiting; their presence was usually to handle any rowdy customers, VIPs, or any other minor disasters. One might also call them your handlers, and the gatekeepers who held the key to the one thing you were after.

She flicked her hand at you to beckon you over to her, the other hand lifting to silence the voice in her earpiece.

“Dove,” she called out, meeting you in the middle. Over the pulse-pounding house music, you could only really understand her because you read her lips. When you were closer, she put her mouth to your ear. “We have a VIP who wanted to sit in your section and declined having us call down someone from the upstairs lounge.”

You pulled away from her for a moment, heart pounding in your chest. “They insisted?”

She nodded, her nose twitching and eyes darting between you and someplace behind you. It wasn't often you saw her anxious like this. “Yes. But he's on the list, so I don't really have a say in this situation.”

“Wait, if he's a VIP, then will I be keeping his tips?” From what you heard about the VIP lounge's protocol, tips given to individual waitresses were to be kept by the individual. Down here on the ground floor, tips were pooled and split amongst yourselves at the end of the night.

She touched her hand between your shoulder blades to guide you back to the floor. “The others will get cranky about it, so no. But I'll figure out a bonus for you if you get a stellar review.”

Damn, really? You weren't here for money, but you were aware of how much a VIP could tip. What a scam. You kept your mouth shut, though, because Ha-yi had brought you to the edge of the floor to subtly point out your new customer.

“Table fifteen.” Your eyes went to the circular lounge in the corner, at the outskirt of your section.

All thoughts of how you were getting scammed flew out the window. “You have got to be kidding me,” you muttered under your breath.

There was Chan, posture relaxed as he rested an arm over the back of the booth seat, eyes lazily drinking in the dancers on the floor.

You should have known.

“I trust you can handle this, Dove?”

Right. Your nod was convincing enough for Ha-yi to abandon you where you stood to return to her post. With a deep breath for sanity, you adjusted your posture and headed for table fifteen.

You clocked his eyes moving as you approached; though his shoulders and face were turned away from you, he knew you were coming over.

“Well, I see you took my advice and made yourself comfortable.”

It was then he chose to turn his full attention to you with an innocent grin on his face. “I hope you don't mind,” he replied, the corner of his lip twitching as he considered you. “VIP lounges can get so stuffy.”

“I understand. And I meant what I said about letting me know if I can help you with anything.” Not really. Maybe in another universe when you weren't working for a criminal organization and this really was just for the money.

He let out a small chuckle, lacing his fingers over the tabletop. “I can see my being here is stressing you out,” he said. There was a glint in his eye as you heard him even above all the music.

You could feel your heart jammed into your throat, your expression faltering. The smile on your face steeled its resolve a little. Ha-yi might have been watching.

“And that wasn't my intention,” he continued when you didn't say anything. “I only popped in to check this place out, but I didn't plan on spending a lot of time here tonight.”

The tension in your shoulders loosened slightly, but your eyes narrowed. Why was he telling you this? “So now you've decided to stay longer then?”

He shook his head with a helpless gesture. “Unfortunately, no. I'm on a time crunch” —he supplemented this with a glance at his gold watch— “but I know how these places work and that your handler's gonna want to know how my experience was here.”

A tingling sensation crept up your spine. It spider-crawled up each vertebrae and made your back go rigid. Why was this beginning to sound like you were walking into the lion's den? You weren't even the one talking.

But it was unfortunate that he knew exactly what to hit on. You needed that stellar review, not just for a bonus, but for the possibility of promotion.

You feigned casual ease, leaning your hip against the side of the table. “What's in it for you? You can't be so inclined to help me simply because I'm Ryujin's friend or out of the goodness of your heart.”

Chan made a scoffing sound, pressing his palm against his chest with mock offense. “So little faith!” he mused. “But… I suppose I expected this; you're a smart girl… Dove.” He looked pointedly at your name tag with a small, conspiratorial smile on his face. “When the time comes, all I need is for you to vouch for me.”

“Vouch for you?” You were beginning to sound like Hongjoong.

He hummed, nodding. “Vouch for me as I will vouch for you,” he said with a flourish of his wrist. “The opportunity will present itself to you in due time, don't worry.”

You could feel the sleeping lion's tail curl around your ankle as you meditated over his offer. It was incredibly vague—vouch for him? When, where, why, and to whom? You barely knew this man, but he held your success in the palm of his hand. A word from him could either mean sink or swim.

He was patient in waiting for your answer, but you didn't take much longer to decide.

You knocked once on the table, breathing out for sanity, then slipping on another smile. “How about I get you a drink in thanks?”

The wharf air was frigid tonight. It was the type of cold that permeated the threads of one's clothes and pierced the bones like a needle; the type of cold that froze the joints and forced even time to slow to a crawl. The dark ocean beyond the dock jostled in monstrous delight, the waves thrashing around each other beneath the drape of an equally dark night sky.

It still smelled like salt and seafoam. That much Hongjoong could count on. Unlike human beings.

“How degrading,” Seonghwa grumbled under his breath as he and Hongjoong watched from afar. The delegation from the Gold Village had arrived at the Ateez docks with the sad replacement for an official at its helm. According to the spineless leaf quivering in the salty wind, their true representative was “running late.” The man in question was to be Kang Jinyoung's protégé rather than the family head himself.

So not only were the leadership of Ateez forced to stand around babysitting the GV soldiers organizing their assigned station on the wharf; but the actual man in charge of them was so gracious as to be late.

Hongjoong didn't hide the nasty scowl beneath the brim of his hat. Kang had assured him that he would be present to oversee this matter, and yet, he decided at the last minute to send a replacement instead. Who did Kang Jinyoung think he was to Kim fucking Hongjoong?

No, Hongjoong knew exactly how Kang thought of him, and how he thought of himself in relation to Hongjoong.

Down on the wooden planks of the dock proper, Mingi leaned against one of the posts, an equally disgruntled glare settled into the grooves of his face. He crossed his arms over the other, and blew a bubble with the piece of gum in his mouth. He was an imposing force amongst the GV rats present—a reminder of who they were dealing with.

Three years, and still no goddamn respect.

Seonghwa let out a loud sigh above the crashing waves as he pulled up the sleeve of his coat to take a glimpse at the time. “It's been twenty minutes. We should go.”

Hongjoong drummed his fingers against the side of his cane. “Give it ten minutes.”

“We cannot be taking this kind of disrespect with a spoonful of sugar,” his second muttered under his breath, below the sound of the water.

“We're not,” Hongjoong replied firmly, “but I would much rather ensure that there's no funny business than to leave so soon.”

Seonghwa stuck his hands in his coat and measured a glare at one of the soldiers who dared a glance his way. “That's why Mingi is here, and why Yeosang's around.”

Hongjoong could feel the phantom eyes of his primary lookout somewhere in the shadows nearby. While Mingi was a more obvious sentinel, Yeosang could make sure they were aware of everything unseen. Of course Hongjoong trusted Mingi and Yeosang; he simply didn't trust the GV. There was a feeling pricking at the back of his mind…

Above the sounds of wind, wave, and work, Hongjoong's breath caught at the faint sound of a bird call, high and soft. He and Seonghwa quietly marked the trills—even down on the docks, Mingi's head turned slightly to hear better.

Their missing party had arrived.

It took a couple more minutes for anything else to change. The docks this time of night were usually rather quiet; all of the day-workers had gone home as they always did, and all of the noise came from their business here. But Hongjoong would be damned if he couldn't taste the shift in the briny ocean breeze when a rival was present.

In the distance, there came the quiet sound of tires approaching. Hongjoong lifted his head only subtly, acknowledging to his counterparts that he was well aware of who had finally come. Then it was the crunching of a car rolling over gravel just a ways behind them, a rupture like radio static.

Hongjoong and Seonghwa turned to greet the newcomer. He stepped out of a slick dark blue vehicle, his hands tucked into the pockets of his bomber jacket, and a piece of fabric pulled up over the lower half of his face.

In his periphery, the men on the dock gradually realized their real boss had arrived, and began to shout their greetings his way.

Bang Chan, Kang Jinyoung's protégé and the one present at the council meeting weeks ago, lifted a hand in silent dismissal. He stalked his way over to Hongjoong and Seonghwa, the latter of which did hardly anything to hide the unimpressed kink in his brow.

“Evening, gentlemen,” Chan said as if he wasn't nearly half an hour late.

Hongjoong kept his expression neutral. “Nice of you to finally join us. You've left your men in our care.”

He shrugged. “Mr. Gwang was here,” he replied, nodding his chin toward the official who had come in his place. Chan stopped when he was a few feet away from the leaders of Ateez, far enough to suggest lack of friendship, but close enough to be in the conversation. With the slight breeze tonight, it was also an apt distance to pick up the distinct scent of something Hongjoong was far too familiar with.

The Captain inwardly furrowed his brows. Why did Bang Chan smell like booze?

Seonghwa's nose crinkled from beneath his mask, his eyes narrowing. “You smell like a bar,” he drawled.

Hongjoong took a good look at the GV heir. He was standing with excellent posture, albeit relaxed in the shoulders and lower body; there were no nervous ticks that he could see, and neither were his eyes dilated. If he was drunk or tipsy, Hongjoong couldn't tell. But Chan had driven here on his own—what on Earth was he doing, and where?

“Errand I had to run,” Chan chuckled. “You know how it is. Apologies for running late though; it seems like everything's gone on smoothly.”

“You seem to assume that everything did,” Hongjoong replied.

“Well” —Hongjoong swore a muscle in his brow twitched when he saw the way Chan's eyes squinted slightly and his mask shifted, as if the bastard was smiling— “I hold much esteem for you lot, and that's not being sarcastic, Captain.”

Seonghwa's scowl seemed to intensify. “Take your condescension elsewhere, Bang.”

“Interpret it how you want,” he replied while raising his palms in surrender. “We've already made the deal for the use of your ports.”

“Speaking of which,” Hongjoong cut in, “you understand—and by that, I mean, Jinyoung understands—that permission to be here warrants our assessment of your imports.”

Bang Chan nodded. “Of course, it would only be fair. We have nothing to hide.” He considered his wording for a moment, then amended, “From certain eyes.”

“Of course.” The criminal activity conducted here was sealed beneath the bounds of a mutual vow of silence. One could use certain information against a rival group if they wished, but in this case, it would be mutually beneficial for both parties to keep their mouths shut. While the GV could ferry in their imported goods without the city's authorities stepping in, Ateez could keep tabs on a rival and tax them, too. It was just business.

Seonghwa glanced out toward the docks, muttering about checking on Mingi, before walking away. Hongjoong knew Seonghwa was itching to do something, if not go home already—Hongjoong was of the same mindset, but things with Chan were simply not adding up tonight. To think that he could have been in Hongjoong's territory, waltzing around doing whatever he was doing… That was something to stick around for.

“Y'know,” piped up the heir. He had his hands tucked behind his back as the two of them stood side by side staring onward at the sea. “Since Jinyoung is handing the mantle over to me, Captain, this will be good practice for working with one another.”

Hongjoong couldn't help the huff of air out of his nose. “Is it not premature for you to be speaking about your boss in such a way?”

“Not at all,” he replied with an air of ease. “Jinyoung can't wait to disappear to some seaside cottage across the country.”

If he wasn't mistaken, Hongjoong thought he heard a wryness to the latter half of the protégé's answer. Since he'd known Chan, and that wasn't very long, he came off as the perfect, dutiful heir-apparent to the GV family. This was something new, something intriguing—a development in the web of relationships Hongjoong kept stored in his head.

Finally, something interesting.

What grudge did Chan harbor against his head of the family? Hongjoong recalled briefly hearing about how Jinyoung treated Chan like a son, that after the death of his second-in-command, Jinyoung tapped Chan to be the up and coming head. Chan was essentially being handed a kingdom. There was much Hongjoong didn't know and only so much information that could be extracted by an outsider.

There was a beat of silence, before Chan was musing, “We'll get along, I'm sure. We have plenty in common.”

Hongjoong cocked a brow. “Is that right?”

“Well, we both like a good bar,” Chan said. He tipped his head to the side as if in thought. “Are you a fan of bourbon?”

What a strange question to ask. “I am. You?”

“Same here. A friend of a friend works at a club somewhere on your turf. She says their bourbon is alright, but there are better places.” Chan glanced at Hongjoong then, and the latter felt a slight jolt in his spine. A friend of a friend who worked on his soil?

Hongjoong was very aware that this could simply be a mind game, some wild goose chase. Or even worse, he was about to walk straight into the mouth of a lion, but he didn't get to where he was by letting bygones be bygones.

“I’m sure she has good taste,” Hongjoong replied airily. “Not every bar's gonna be a hit.”

Chan chuckled. “Yeah, well…” his voice trailed off to the point where even the wind might have carried away his last words. “You would know, wouldn't ya?”

Whatever the fuck was that supposed to mean?

By the time everyone called it a night, it was quickly approaching the ungodly hours of the morning. Hongjoong, Seonghwa, and Mingi arrived at the doors of their home with muscles aching and limbs begging for sleep.

Unfortunately, their world never truly slept.

Yeosang waited for them at the foot of the staircase leading up to the living room. He had his arms crossed over his chest, a small envelope tucked between his fingers.

“Captain.” He pushed off the banister, nodding to Seonghwa and Mingi as they passed.

The door rattled shut behind Hongjoong, followed by the heavy locks clunking into place. “What do you have?” he asked, inclining his chin toward his commander.

Yeosang handed the envelope over. It was a standard cream-colored folder made of a paper with the texture of velvet. The flap was sealed shut via an aquamarine wax seal, embossed with a geometric design Hongjoong recognized instantly. “This was passed along from one of the DDC's people,” Yeosang said, affirming Hongjoong's suspicions.

After Ateez and the Diamond District's backdoor deal, the latter had been forwarding information any of their spies picked up about relevant activities on the streets. The last piece of correspondence confirmed the DDC's past deal with Lee Yunseok to buy the Kidult Company's building.

Hongjoong peeled the envelope open and tugged out the obnoxiously thick card inside. Jeonghan's loopy script greeted his eyes, and Hongjoong inhaled the words hastily. There were addresses listed after Jeonghan's brief message—addresses that could be corroborated with paper trails, and paired with dates of sightings.

After a moment, he returned the card back into its vessel and sealed the envelope.

“Good news?” Yeosang asked.

Hongjoong hooked his fingers over the hem of his mask to drag it down. He let out a sigh. “A possibility,” he said in response. “It won't be your responsibility though, Yeo. Good work tonight.”

His counterpart nodded. “Aye, Captain. I'm happy to do my job and do it well.”

The Captain smiled slightly, gesturing to the stairs for the two of them to begin making their way up. “Did you happen to see which way Bang drove in from?”

“Hm,” Yeosang hummed under his breath. “He came in from the south, as expected. He could've gone the long route to cover his tracks, though. He was late.”

“He was,” Hongjoong agreed.

They stopped on the landing of the stairs and Hongjoong leaned his weight onto his cane. Bang Chan's demeanor and words tonight still rang in Hongjoong's ears like a dissonant bell. He had come late, smelling like booze but wasn't tipsy in the slightest. He mentioned a friend of a friend who worked in Hala Town, and knew Hongjoong's drink of choice. It could have just been a guess, but it couldn't have just been a coincidence. These were breadcrumbs, and Chan was trying to get Hongjoong to do something.

He never liked playing mouse. (But some things were necessary evils. There was a storm beginning to brew in his gut.)

“Something on your mind, hyung?”

Hongjoong glanced over at Yeosang with a grave expression. “I have a feeling that there's even more going on that I don't know about.”

From his pocket, his phone went off with a high-pitched chirp. Hongjoong and Yeosang exchanged 'good nights’, and Hongjoong turned his attention to his phone.

you: i think i have a chance of making it onto the vip line

Hongjoong's chest jerked as he remembered. The lipstick did that much?, he texted back. He bit his lip; Polaris was not an easy brand to finagle in such a short amount of time, and he definitely owed his contact for it. He only wished he could affirm his choice by seeing you wear it.

you: there were other factors you: but thank u for the new color :) sakura tells me it was expensive

He made his way over to the couches, tossing his hat onto a cushion. You're telling me you've never heard of Polaris? We really have to change that.

you: if i was in a different tax bracket, i'd def be down to browse some more you: aurora's a beautiful shade

Words sat at the edge of Hongjoong's tongue—or rather, the edge of his finger tips. He bit his tongue instead of his lip this time, thumbing out an answer that wasn't his original thought.

hongjoong: glad we're on the same page. i thought it matched ur skin tone hongjoong: but u mentioned other factors?

you: right… i think i got a really good review today—one good enough to boost me up the list of candidates you: i won't know for a couple days, but the meeting will take place at the end of the week

That would mean the Dionysus management had to pick a person in a couple days time, at the latest. It simply wouldn't be enough.

He pressed his mouth against the palm of his hand, leaning over his knee. What to do, what to do… You needed more than just one good review, especially since you were new. What you needed was a track record for stellar service and raking in a shit ton of profit. Aurora wasn't enough, and as much as he put his money on your charm and your smile, there wasn't enough time.

An idea appeared in the forefront of his brain, and it smelled like a scheme that Seonghwa wouldn't like.

hongjoong: i have an idea, but don't worry too much abt it. just keep doing what u do best you: haha sure capt good night hongjoong: night

Hongjoong swiped out of your messages and dialed another number. His eyes flickered over to the decanter of bourbon on the side table, and an image of Chan flashed into his mind. What are you up to, Bang? He was going to get to the bottom of this.

Wooyoung picked up on the third ring, voice chipper as if he'd just drank his fifth cup of coffee today (which he probably had), “Aye Cap'n!”

“I need two favors.”

“What's the magic word?”

Hongjoong pulled his phone away to shoot an incredulous look at Wooyoung's caller ID. “Jung Wooyoung.”

“Fine, okay! But that was two words.”

He loosened a sigh from his mouth, pressing the phone back to his ear. “I need you to run a plate for me,” he paused, then added with the great reluctance of an exhausted parent, “please. And do you still have leftover black hair dye under your sink?”

On their second night out, Aurora and your new accessory continued to bring you success. You were beginning to think there was something about them that boosted your determination and confidence; your mind was geared toward your goal with blinders on. It was as if you had forgotten all of the nuance that led you here in the first place.

Dionysus's house music blasted from the speakers, pulsing through your body to the point you couldn't tell the difference between the bass and your own heartbeat. You strolled out from the kitchen doors after your break, a fresh layer of setting powder and lipstick over your face.

As you passed by the bar counter to grab a tray, Ha-yi flagged you down from where she stood at the desktop.

“Yes?” you asked, leaning over to give her your ear.

“Same guy from last night; he has company this time, though.”

You stilled for a microsecond. Chan was back? With a friend? Or rather 'company’, but that could have encompassed a great range of people, especially with the deal you made last night.

You straightened yourself out, nodding to Ha-yi in vague understanding, before setting off. The butterflies in your stomach were swarming in a panic. No one expected the consequences of their actions to come back to bite so quickly. Vouch for him, you thought to yourself as you weaved through the crowd—who did you possibly need to vouch for him to—

All movement in your head skidded to a halt.

What in the fresh fucking Hell.

There was Chan seated at table fifteen, as he had been just twenty-four hours ago. He had a casual arm draped along the back of the booth, but he sat on the far side of it to be positioned across from his counterpart.

Who else other than Kim Hongjoong in civilian clothes would be seated opposite? His hair was different, you realized—darker than before, a strand arched over his forehead in an artful swoop; a pair of yellow-tinted shades seated low on the slope of his nose; and his body clad in a classic suit, the white dress shirt collar undone and opened to display that beautiful collar bone beneath.

He was here, in a Lioncrest Society establishment, without a mask or hat, and without company.

Wait—your head swiveled—did he bring company?

You approached the table with apprehension, trying to keep the rhythm of your kitten heels steady and constant: tip, tap, tip, tap, tip, tap. The closer you got, the more you realized that Hongjoong didn't have a pleased look on his face. It was the complete opposite of Chan's relaxed posture. It unnerved you.

Both of their attentions flew to you when you came into view, and Hongjoong's eyes made a slow ascent from your ankles to your face. His expression eased only slightly.

You plastered on a service smile to cover the nervous pitter-patter of your heartbeat. “Pleasure to have you back with us, Chan—and I see you brought a friend tonight!” You slid a couple of square napkins onto the table, one for each. “Welcome to Dionysus—”

“You can just call me Jun,” Hongjoong replied with an easy smile.

“Jun,” you said with a nod. Your eyes flickered between the both of them, silently asking questions with fervor. What was going on? Why was Hongjoong here, and with Chan of all people? “Can I start you off with something to drink, boys?”

Chan lifted two of his fingers, eyes alight. “I'll get a whiskey on the rocks, please, Dove.”

“How good's your bourbon here, doll?” Hongjoong asked, leaning forward to press his chin against his fist.

This was something you were comfortable talking about—you took in a breath. “Ah, if you like bourbon, you should definitely try one of our house special cocktails with rye whiskey. Our bourbon is good,” you said with a light gesticulation, “but if you're up for trying something spectacular, you'll love the Calliope Sonata. Has just the right burn, a little bit of sweetness from the honey, that grit from the barley, and it's a gorgeous thing to look at.”

Hongjoong's brows lifted slightly, tongue darting out between his teeth. “Sounds incredible, sweetheart; you've convinced me.”

“Great, then I'll be right back with those drinks.”

During the time between ordering and picking up their beverages, you made your rounds about your assigned section. All the while, your heart had yet to sink down from its perch in your throat, your eyes always finding its way over to table fifteen. From your vantage point, you could only really make out Chan's expression—and he remained ever amused and at ease.

There had to be a connection between Hongjoong and Chan. How did they know one another, and why would Hongjoong walk straight into the lion's den when he knew they could be working with the enemy?

Given, they likely didn't know he was the Captain, but it was still something Seonghwa definitely would have vetoed.

When you returned to table fifteen with their drinks of choice, the tension between the two had yet to slacken.

“Alright, she's back,” Hongjoong said after both of them sent their thanks your way. He settled a narrowed gaze over the rim of his glasses at his counterpart. “State your business, Bang.”

Your smile faltered ever so slightly. “How do you both know each other?”

“He's the heir to the GV mafia,” your captain replied. This time, his eyes lifted up to meet your gaze, a steel glinting in those dark irises.

What the fuck? You swallowed, looking at Chan. The man in question crossed one leg over the other and spread his arms out. “Nice to properly meet you, Dove.”

That meant Chan, the heir to a mafia family, had interacted with your best friend and roommate, infiltrated a gray area event, and found you. The things he had said, his peculiar behavior, the awful feeling in your gut about him—everything clicked into place.

“He knows,” Hongjoong muttered under his breath as you unconsciously leaned toward his side of the curved booth, your hip resting against that backing. “So there's no pretense to this conversation.”

He knew about the criminal underworld, he knew who Hongjoong was, he knew who you and Hongjoong were to each other, and he knew that your success here had a lot more at stake than just paying rent.

You could feel the color drain from your face even after the realization hit you. “Why didn't you just say something?” you stammered to Chan. Ryujin… Oh god, he knew who Ryujin was.

Chan shrugged. “I had to do my own recon. Apologies if it came off unsavory; I have my own bases to cover. You understand, don't you?”

No, truly you did not. Wasn't there a treaty or something? Why did he involve Ryujin—

Hongjoong laced his fingers over the table with a glare to cut concrete. “What are you doing in my territory?”

“Since Dove's here now, I will ask first that you hear me out.”

“Absolutely not,” he snarled back. “You're lucky I don't feel like getting blood on this suit.”

Chan sent you a pointed look. I vouch for you, you vouch for me. Oh, this was that ‘opportunity,’ huh?

You coughed. “H—Jun, maybe just… hear him out.”

Hongjoong's head whipped over to you. “Excuse me?”

“You're not curious as to what he has to say?” you answered with a wince. It wasn't like you hadn't stood up to Hongjoong before; this context was different. You were still rattled from the new revelation, and all of the goddamn curve balls flying at you. “It must be important if he's willing to trespass here. You could sever the port agreement with the GV for this.”

You could see the gears turning in his head as he held eye contact with you. Whatever he saw in your eyes or heard from your mouth, it made him turn his attention to Bang Chan with an icy expression. “You have two minutes.”

a/n: ngl, this and the next chapter have been two of my favorites to write so far haha pls remember to reblog if you enjoyed !

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cinnamoonblue · 7 months ago

Text

Chapter VI | Cakes and Alleyways

Summary: You moved to one of the biggest cities in the world - Grand Line to pursue filmmaking career. Soon enough your path will cross with the vocalist of upcoming band called “The Neighbourhood”. At first you decided to be just friends - because it would be easier, but sadly as everything in life sometimes by taking the easy path we regret a lot of things.

Main characters: Portgas D Ace x Reader (female)

Supporting characters: Nami, Usopp, Luffy, Zoro, Sanji, Law, Deuce, Shanks, Buggy, Sabo, Eustass Kid, Koala, Robin, Dave (OC)

Description: Modern AU | Musician Ace

WARNINGS: ALL CHARACTERS ARE AGED UP this story will contain descriptions of violence, 18+ only, contains explicit sexual themes and content, explicit language, use of alcohol, use of cannabis, use of nicotine/cigarettes, angst, hurt/no comfort, hurt/comfort, implied injury, family trauma, slow burn, destructive behavior, toxic behavior, illegal activities, NSFW, conflicted feelings, loneliness, pain, conflicted relationship, emotional distress, jealousy, suggestive themes, violence, substance use, mentions of death, mentions of suicide, mentions of depression, mentions of loosing a loved one, mentions of violence, PLEASE PAY ATTENTION TO THE WARNINGS

Word Count: 19,7K

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NOTE: First I’m sorry that the chapter took so long but at least it is quite long. Second: PLEASE TAKE GOOD LOOK AT THE WARNINGS AS I DON’T WANT TO TRIGGER SOMETHING TRAUMATIC IN ANY OF YOU!!!! Also I can't believe it has been one month since I started the fic, thank you all for reading and supporting it ♡ I hope that you guys enjoy it ♡

Snow was covering every roof and street in the Grand Line city. December came and so did the snow. Christmas lights were already lighting up the streets. The weather was getting colder with every passing day. I caught myself counting the days in the past two weeks. To be exact twelve days. Twelve days since I last saw Ace and I was not sure if I wanted to see him again. Five days ago, I couldn’t take the silence anymore and texted him, asking if I did something wrong or offended him somehow. Six days later still no response. Not even marked as read. I was trying to distract myself in every possible way, but he was still finding his way to my mind at least once a day. I felt so confused – confused, offended and hurt. Why? Why being all friendly and nice with me only to turn ice-cold and pretend like I didn’t exist the next day? I didn’t want to think about Ace, but I couldn’t. Even thought I was busy with shooting the sort-cut projects and editing them after, still even after all that stress the thing that bothered me the most was his absence. It was simply not fair. I did not deserve this attitude from him.

They released the music video a week ago. It already had one hundred sixty thousand views and growing in the span of a week, which for a first video was quite successful. All the guys found a way to contact me and thanked me for the video, all except Ace. And that added to the pain I was feeling. I would never do such thing to a friend. But he never saw me as one. At this point I was wondering what he saw me as?

I tried to shake away the thoughts and get ready to go out for a lunch with Shanks. I haven’t seen him in almost two months. We only talked on the phone a few times. On top of it I have barely spoken with my dad, and I felt so bad for it but also, I was starting to miss him a lot. I couldn’t wait for the Christmas break as I needed it both physically and mentally. I received a text from Shanks that he was waiting for me downstairs, so I put on my jacket and boots and ran outside. He had parked his red 4x4 jeep in front of my apartment building, waiting for me inside. I opened the door, and he greeted me with a big smile.

“How is my Foxy doing?” He ruffled my hair before turning on the car.

“Shanks.” I giggled as I tried to fix my hair. “I’m good, how is my favourite uncle doing?”

“Oh, what do you want your sneaky fox?” His eyes quickly glanced at me as we stopped at a red light.

“Nothing. Why would I be wanting anything from you?” I looked surprised at him.

“You call me your ‘favourite uncle’ only when you want something.” He snorted.

“Not this time. I just missed you.” I gave him half shrug. Shanks chuckled and patted me on the shoulder. After twenty minutes drive we arrived at the restaurant where Shanks had made reservation for us to have a lunch. The place was quite new. It was a top floor restaurant, decorated with flowers all around but the best part was the celling, which was entire made of glass. I have never been here before but the moment they seated us down and I looked at the menu I already fell in love with the place. The waiter came and took our order. We thanked him and handed back the menus.

“How is school going Foxy?” Shanks asked me while pouring some water in my glass.

“University, Shanks.” I corrected him. “It’s going pretty well. I must show you the movie I directed and wrote script for. I think I did pretty well.” I tossed my hair on the side a bit, bragging about my little accomplishment.

“I’m sure it will be the best one Foxy.” He smiled proudly at me. “A little bird told me that you also directed a music video.” Shanks raised his eyebrow knowingly, propping his elbows on the table and crossing his fingers under his chin. I hummed in response and nodded my head slightly. “Just a ‘mhm’?”

“What else am I supposed to say?”

“I don’t know, but that was a big deal. And the video was pretty good, Luffy showed it to me.” His eyes were studying my face before he continued. “I also heard that Ace asked you to film it. Wanna say something about that?” His tone was light, but his gaze was stern.

“We met accidently while I was working on my film and he read the script, liked it, saw potential in me and asked me if I could do it.” I explained quick trying to brush off the topic.

“Of course he saw the potential, Ace is not stupid. But still don’t let him get in your head.” Shanks gave me another stern look.

“Shanks what is your problem with Ace?” I whined as I was tired of hearing the same thing over and over again. After all I’m not twelve and I have enough brains to know what would be good or bad for me.

“I don’t have problem with Ace, as long as there is nothing between you two.” Now his voice was also stern. “Ace is a good guy. I know the kid for a long time. He used to be problematic tho, but this is not important now. What is important for you, is to understand that guys like Ace hit and dip. What you want to be one of the many?” He snorted. “I don’t think so Foxy, so before you get your delusions broken use this brain of yours and u-“ His speech was interrupted by the waiter who came and served the food we ordered. I thanked him with a smile before I turn my attention back to Shanks as I gave him annoyed glance.

“Don’t you dare giving me that look.” He pointed his finger towards me. “Again, he is a good guy, but he is also very troublesome. So, case close.” His tone was low but warning.

“No, case open Shanks.” I protested. “I’m old enough to take my own decisions with who I go out and what I do with them. If I get my ‘delusions’ broken.” I mocked him. “Then it’s on me. Plus, Ace and I are just... just... “ I couldn’t find the right word to describe what we were exactly. “We are just acquainted.” I murmured the last part. “Plus, he is a very good person Shanks, and I haven’t seen him being problematic. So, I don’t know if we are talking about the same guy.” I didn’t know why I was defending Ace when he didn’t deserve it at all. I looked down on my plate and took a bite of my food.

“Oh, so you know him better, is that so?” Shanks tone became mocking as he got pissed. “Did you know that when Ace was sixteen, he beaten a guy up so bad it almost left him disabled? And he has been sued to pay the guy indemnification for ten years in the row. And do you know how Ace was being able to pay for it? Until two years ago he was known for selling drugs and beating up people if you pay him, so even after that accident he still didn’t learn his lesson. Now he started to earn some money with music, but we will see how long this will continue.” He raised his chin and eyebrows up waiting for my response. I didn’t know how to response to this. I just lowered my gaze and slouched on my seat. “Exactly, I thought so too.” Shanks snorted at me.

“You are no better than him you know.” I couldn’t stop the words escaping my mouth. Shanks chuckled, placing his hands on the table.

“Go on, Foxy. Elaborate.” He persisted.

“You...” I took a deep breath for courage before I continue. “You used to work for Gol D Roger, you sold drugs for the biggest narco-boss ever known and you are here playing Mr. Morals for a guy who did what he had to do, as life wasn’t very fair for him to begin with.” My chest rose and fell with rapid breaths, my eyes didn’t dare to look at him. I have never talked back to Shanks. I have had this big respect towards him since I could remember, and I have never crossed my boundaries with him. I was waiting for him to start yelling or get even more angry with me but instead he laughed out loud like a maniac. Everyone in the restaurant gave us a look. I slouched even more in my chair from embarrassment. Shanks cleared his throat still laughing.

“Oh, Foxy...” He clicked with him tongue while shaking his head, sill laughing a bit. “I was planning to save you this, but you are asking for it, now with this bratty behaviour.” Shanks looked me straight in the eyes before he continued. The look on his face was scaring me. “You know how I happen to know a lot of people and by chance I knew both of Ace’s parents. And guess what, fun fact for your ‘acquaintance’” A smug smirk appeared on his face. “Wanna know his real name before he changed it a few years ago? For which, I helped by the way.” He snorted, his gaze mocking as he was waiting for me to say something.

“Gol D Ace.” My eyes widen when I heard the name. I shook my head in disbelieve. “No, don’t shake your head like that. You heard me. He is Gol D Roger biological and only son.” I was shocked by this information. It couldn’t be, it was known that Gol D Roger never had a family. “What did your opinion about Ace change now?” Shanks continued to mock me. I bit on my lip and frowned with my brows before I looked at Shanks.

“No, Shanks. It didn’t. Ace is still Ace, and I would never judge someone based on who their parents are.” I swallowed hard. “After all my mother is a junkie, I guess you are the one who needs reminder.” I leaned on the back of the chair, my arms crossed as I was waiting for his response now. Shanks looked away embarrassed and cursed under his breath.

“The difference is that you don’t go after her steps, while Ace did like his father. And even thought Roger wasn’t as bad as he was portraited by the media, he still did bad stuffs, and so did Ace.” He tried to explain this time calmer. “Again – Ace is a good kid, but he swings the wrong way easily, and he is not good enough for you. Have your friendship or whatever with him...” Shanks sighed out loudly, waving his hand dismissively as he took a sip of his water. “I don’t want to see you hurt, Foxy.” He murmured. Silence took over the table. The chatter of plates and chitchats of people around us was the only thing that could be heard. I was lost in my thoughts. What I have heard right now wouldn’t change my opinion about Ace no matter what. My opinion about him was entirely based on how he treated me. The worst part of all was that the more I was learning about Ace the more I was understanding when it came to his behaviour.

“Please, eat.” Shanks broke the silence. My appetite was long gone but I didn’t want to argue with him again, so I took a bite of my food.

“Can I know, why you chose this place? You also said you have something to tell me. I doubt you wanted to come her only to tell me all this about Ace, so what is it?” I was keeping my eyes on the plate still affected by our argument. Shanks rubbed his temples with his fingers and sighed deeply.

“Well, I have some life changing news.” I slowly raised my head to look at him when he said that. I patiently waited for him to tell me what was going on. A little smile appeared on his lips before he took a deep breath in. I waived my hand at him to spill the bean. “I’m going to be a dad.” Shanks said with a grin on his face. I covered my mouth with my hands as my jaw almost hit the floor. I was shocked to my core. Shanks nodded his head slowly, letting me take my time to process what he just told me.

“Are you for real? This better not be one of your sick jokes.” I warned him as tears of happiness started to build in my eyes.

“I’m not kiddin’, Foxy. I’m going to be a father.” He chuckled, joy and pride glistering in his eyes. I squeaked, jumping from my seat to hug Shanks. Tears of happiness were falling from my eyes as he embraced me in his hug. We shared a laugh of joy as we sat back. I couldn’t find the words to describe how happy and confused I was feeling right now.

“H-how? Wh-when?” Was all I could ask him. I grabbed the napkin on the table whipping away the tears as I tried to safe my now a bit smudged mascara. Shanks laughed again.

“Foxy I’m pretty sure you know how babies are made.” He mocked me jokingly. I rolled my eyes at his comment.

“Yes, Shanks, I’m aware. But when? And most importantly, with who?” The big grin couldn’t leave my face. I was so happy to hear this, but also curious. Shanks has never had official girlfriend or anything close to it, so my best and only guess was that it must be a one-night stand.

“Well, it’s pretty early, she is six weeks pregnant. Her name is Natasha and yeah...” He bit on his cheek. I could see that he was feeling a little uncomfortable.

“Hm, was it a ‘hit and dip’ case?” I took a bite of my food, trying to withhold the smug smile that I wanted to place on my face. The whole situation was a bit funny, knowing how Shanks was embarrassed to admit that he got some girl knocked up. He just shot me a glance, warning me not to mess with him.

“It wasn’t planned this is something I can confirm, but I was you know... seeing her from time to time.” He said a little uncomfortable.

“How old is she? Have I seen her by any chance?” I continued with the question enjoying how uncomfortable this whole situation was making him feel.

“Twenty-seven. And no, you haven’t seen her anywhere.” My jaw hit the floor again after hearing the girl’s age.

“Twenty-seven? Shanks...” I stopped myself when I saw how his face scrunched as I repeated her age. Part of me wanted to scold him due the fact that they had twenty years difference, but then again who was I to judge people. “Um, what are your plans now? Like are you going to co-parent once the baby is born or you going to try being together, or...?” I asked. The situation wasn’t fun anymore, it was a little concerning. Shanks exhaled deeply, pulling his red hair a little bit.

“We decided to not rush with any decisions of this sort for now. Plus, I want her to be calm and not worry about anything in the next nine months as it will be more hard for her than me.” He was right, her life would change drastically even before the baby was born.

“How did her parents react? Also, how is she? Is she excited or not?”

“She is very excited. When she told me the news, she even warned me that she won’t do an abortion or anything like this in case I didn’t want to step up.” I nodded understandingly at what Shanks told me. “Well, her parents... let’s say they were happy until they found out our age difference.” He chuckled awkwardly.

“Were you surprised? Imagine I come and tell you ‘Oh, Shanks I got knocked up by a man who is almost your age’. I doubt you will be thrilled.” I snorted.

“Foxy, if you come at this age to me and tell me such thing, even if the guy is your age, your dad and I will crush every part of this guy’s body.” He was joking but I knew if this did happen, they would do this. I wanted to make more jokes to annoy him but decided to keep them for myself.

“So, I will finally have a little cousin. I have always wanted to have one and spoil her with presents.” I propped my chin on my crossed fingers as I stared to daydream about all the fun I was going to have with the baby.

“Hold up, Foxy. Who said it is going to be a girl?” Shanks chuckled and raised his eyebrow.

“You know what they say Shanks, don’t you? About men who used to ‘hit and dip’ a lot.” I smirked.

“What they say, Foxy? Enlighten me.” He rubbed his chin waiting for my response as I stared to giggle.

“A man who broke a lot of hearts, is a man who will be blessed with daughter to pay for his sins.” I couldn’t stop giggling as he rolled his eyes at me.

“Bullshit. This isn’t true, look at your dad – not a single broken heart left behind him, yet your sassy ass emerged from hell.” Shanks was fast with his comeback.

“Hey, don’t talk about dad like this. He is charming... in his own unique way.” I quickly defended my father.

“Foxy, the fact that you had to define his ‘charm’ as ‘unique’ is enough to tell us everything.” His whole body was shaking from laughter.

“Does he know?”

“Of course, he does.” Shanks huffed with a smile. “He also thought that I was pranking him.” We both laughed again.

We continued with the lunch and small talks. I was really happy for Shanks. He would be an amazing father, and he had experience with raising a child. His future baby was in good hands. After all, if it wasn’t for Shanks, my dad would have struggled to raise me all by himself.

When we finished with our lunch Shanks dropped me off back home. Before I left the car we stayed and talked a little bit more.

“You need some money or something?” He asked me seriously.

“No, I’m doing pretty good now. Especially after I filmed the music video. They paid me good you know.” I winked at him as I nudged his arm. “By the way, how do you know Luffy and why haven’t you ever mentioned him to me?” I just remembered to ask him this. Till this day none of them has told me how they met or became so close that Luffy saw him as a father figure.

“This is a story for next time.” He ruffled my hair. “Go home now kid. You have lectures tomorrow.” He sternly said to me. I rolled my eyes and huffed.

“Fine.” I opened the door and got out of the car. “But one last thing.” I said before closing it. “When will I meet... Natasha was her name, right? When will I meet Natasha?” I bounced on my toes.

“Soon, I promise. Now go, Foxy and be careful with what you do.” He pointed his finger to me before I closed the door. I stuck my tongue at him and I turned around to go home. Shanks drove off after he saw me entering the building. When I got inside my apartment I started to jump and squeak around. I couldn’t wait to meet the baby and Natasha. After taking my jacket and boots off and I changed my clothes to something more comfortable, I sat on the couch and called my dad on Facetime. The moment I saw his face on my screen I screamed.

“DAD SHANKS IS GOING TO BE A FATHER.” Tears welled in my eyes again. My father laughed heartfully.

“I know, darling. Sorry for not telling you sooner, but he wanted to tell you himself.” A gentle smile was placed on his face. “I can see that you are quite excited about it.” He chuckled.

“Of course I am, are you kidding me? I have already thought of all the games I can play with the baby, and the toys I can buy for it, and uhh, I just can’t wait to hug the little bundle of joy.” I couldn’t stop babbling about it. It was not even formed as a human yet, but I already loved it. “And I told Shanks that it will be a girl, remember my word. I just sense it with my gut, this baby is going to be a girl.”

“Well at least they wouldn’t need to worry about find a babysitter as you have already volunteered.” He joked and I nodded enthusiastically. “How are you baby girl? Last time we spoke you were super stressed, everything alright now?” His tone sounded concerned.

“I’m fine dad. Now that the short-cuts are done and the music video was released, I’m just waiting for the Christmas break.”

“Oh yes, the video. I watched it yesterday again. You killed it. And it’s getting so popular.” He said excited.

“Yeah, I’ve heard that it was doing good.” I clicked with my tongue.

“Why you sound so unamused? This is a very good thing for your future as a director.” He lifted his eyebrow, immediately picking up that something wasn’t alright with me.

“Yes, I agree. But I want to be movie director not a music one.” I winked. It was true, my main goal was movies, not music videos, but it was still a good showreel for my portfolio after I graduate.

“Still, you must be happy and proud for your success, without you this video wasn’t going to be this good, I guarantee you this.” Dad insisted. Of course, he would think this after all it was something that I have created, and I was his daughter at the end of the day. “Did something happen with the boy? It’s the singer one, I remember correctly, right?” His eyebrows waggled teasing me. “He is quite charming.”

“We are just friends dad. Nothing more than friends.” I shrugged, skipping the part where I have to explain that we weren’t even friends at this point but just some acquaintances, who happened to know some quite personal traumas about each other.

“You sure about that, doll?” It was like someone splashed me with ice-cold water when I heard the nickname.

“Dad, please, I beg you from the bottom of my heart... never and I mean it never ever call me ‘doll’ again, please.” My whole face scrunched up.

“What do you mean?” He squeaked his eyes widen faking his offence.

“Just...” I rubbed my temples with my fingers. “Please, any other nickname or pet name you want, just not ‘doll’.” I cringed, knowing how Ace referred to me as a ‘doll’, the last thing I wanted was for my father to do the same, even thought they used it with very different meanings. In my father’s mind when referring to me as ‘doll’ he was remembering the times when his little girl was in fact a little girl, going around bouncing on my tiptoes and my pigtails swinging from side to side while hugging my favourite baby doll pretending to be my own baby. Now with Ace, I wasn’t sure why he was calling me ‘doll’ all the time, but it wasn’t because of the same reason my father was.

“Okay, okey.” He shook his head defeated. “Now you mind sharing with your old man what is bothering you with this young fella?” I snorted at his poor attempted to imitated British accent.

“Nothing, dad. Really, as I told you last time, I am not good with getting hints and his hints were obvious that it is just a friendship, nothing more than that.” I gave him a half smile.

“Pff, what an idiot. It’s his loss, darling.”

“Nah, it’s okay, dad. Plus, I have more important stuff to focus on that him.” This was indeed true, but my mind was still drafting to Ace all the time. “You know, he is a fan of yours.” I smirked.

“Is he? Well, maybe he isn’t such a big idiot.” My dad chuckled and I giggled. The rest of the conversation was us catching up. Me telling him about the whole process of the short-cuts and how it wasn’t as hard as I thought it would be but still stressful to film ten short movies in the span of ten days, but I was lucky enough to be in a very well organised group, so we all managed pretty good. I also shared with him how I got even more close with Nami and Usopp’s friend group and that my social circle and life here was growing. We also spoke about the upcoming holidays. Dad was planning to come here and stay over at Shanks’, and we would celebrate Christmas with him. Before we said goodbye, I told him how much I missed him, which made him go all emotional as we haven’t seen each other in almost six months, as his schedule was quite busy. He promised me that he would try his best to come a little earlier than planned so we could spend more time together, before we hung up.

The rest on the night I spent by myself doing the usual – watching movies, ordering some takeout and scrolling through my socials. When I refreshed my Instagram for a thousand time tonight, I saw the band’s profile has posted a story. I pressed on it to see it. They were announcing an upcoming performance for not this but next Saturday and that tickets were up to sell from tomorrow. A small smile appeared on my face. This was good, the guys deserved it. No matter where Ace and I stood as friends, his talent was something that no one could deny him, and the same went for the rest of the guys. They deserved the success that slowly but steady was coming in their way. I couldn’t stop myself and I opened their band account and clicked on the people they were following, which were only them four. All of them except Ace were following me. I went to his profile, and he had also posted a story. I hesitated if I should open it. He had almost five thousand people following him and I doubt he was the type to check who viewed his stories. I took a deep breath and pressed on it. There were two stories one where he had reshared the band’s account one, and the other one was a short video of him playing the guitar with a caption ‘testing some new tunes’. He had the orange beanie on top of his head but most of his face was hidden by his hair. I sighed closing the story. I hesitated again if I should follow him, but then the words ‘if he wanted to, he would’ crossed my mind. The fact that his bandmates and friends were following me, and I wasn’t even as close with them as I was with him, was enough to make me made up my mind and not follow him.

I just closed the app and laid on my bed. I was staring at the celling, thinking of what Shanks told me earlier. I knew Ace had a roughed past, but I wasn’t aware that he used to be violent. It was hard for me to imagined him being the person Shanks told me Ace used to be. But people change and Shanks said that Ace has been doing better in the past two years. The thing I was shocked by the most was that Ace was Gol D Roger’s son. He was known as the biggest narco-boss globally. The stories and rumours about his wealth and brutality were horrific. Shanks used to work for him when he was young. He even accidently slipped one time when he was drunk and told me the truth of how he and my dad became friends. My father also did work for Roger, and that was how they met and became like brothers. I have never mentioned to my father that I knew about this.

My dad’s past was something he has always hated to talk about and kept it privet from me. Until he became successful standup comedian, we were barely making the ends, and after a certain age I became fully aware that he was doing some bad things to make a living. Thit was the biggest reason why I couldn’t judge anyone based on who their parents were or their past, as sometimes in life we simply didn’t have choice, or we didn’t know better. If Ace and I ever spoke again I wouldn’t mention anything to him about the fact that I knew who his father was. Obviously, he didn’t want to be associated with him, not only because he had changed his name, but I remembered the only time he had ever mentioned his father was when he told me he had died before he was born, but the reluctance in his voice was as clear as a glass. This was something I could relate to. The despite I had for my mother was growing more and more with every passing year. The worst part was when I looked in the mirror. I didn’t have my father’s eyes or nose, neither the lips – it was all her. And I hated it, because the more I was growing up the more I could see the resemblance. Maybe that was why it was so easy for me to opened to Ace; we had different yet so similar pasts. My thoughts were interrupted by my phone vibrating, notifying me that I have a message. I reached to grab my phone and rose in bed immediately when I saw the message.

‘Stalking, huh?’ My heart skipped a beat when I read the message. It was from Ace. To say that I was confused would not be enough. Two weeks, we haven’t spoken for almost two weeks, and he hit me up at almost eleven pm with such cocky message. Sometimes I did forget how cocky Ace could be. I didn’t know how to response to the message. Not only I was embarrassed because, last thing I expected, was to get caught by him for checking out his Instagram profile, but because in fact I did not know how to respond to this. I thought for a moment to just ignore him the same way he ignored me in the past ten days, but I have always hated this back-and-forth games. I sighed before unlocking my phone and opening his message. All I could do was stare at it. I typed and deleted again and again as nothing seemed right to answer. At the end I send him the only thing that felt right – a middle finger emoji. Just that, a simple middle finger, as he did deserve it. I threw my phone next to me on the bed and ran my hands through my hair pulling it at the ends.

“Fucking Ace” I cursed out loud. I wouldn’t be surprised if he doesn’t response after this, but my phone vibrated again.

‘Yea, I deserve that. Sorry, doll. Didn’t mean to ignore you.’ I rolled my eyes at the message. I started to type when I received a third message from him. ‘Something bugged with my phone and I wasn’t able to response.” My mouth opened wide as I couldn’t believe my eyes. I typed quickly, God the audacity this man had.

‘Thit was the best lie you came up with? Really?’ Chuckles escaped my lips as I couldn’t believe that he really thought I would fall for such a lame excuse. In response he just liked my message.

“Asshole.” I exclaimed loudly. This time I was pissed.

‘Fuck you Ace!’ The moment the message was sent he seen it and started to type.

‘Don’t be mad at me doll..’ I rolled my eyes again. Not the first nor it would be the last time I have had received this exact message from him.

‘I’m not your doll! Stop calling me that!’

‘You sure bout that?’

“Sure about which one exactly Ace?” I asked myself out loud. I left him on seen and decided to go to sleep as I have classes tomorrow morning. My phone vibrated again but this time it wasn’t a message it was a notification from Instagram. I laughed out loud.

‘@portgas.d.ace has requested to follow you.’ I read it out loud to myself. As much as he has pissed me, right now I was having fun with him. A mischievous idea crossed my mind and instead of accepting his request I denied it. He must apologise first and then he can have this access to me.

“These games can be played by two Ace.” I smirked to myself. My phone lit up again.

‘Did you just delete my request?’ I didn’t expect a response so fast and just like him earlier, I simply liked the message.

‘I’m not gonna request u again, doll ;)’ Instead of replying with my own response I forwarded him his own message - ‘You sure bout that?’

The smug smirk on my face growing with every second. He didn’t response after this, and I wondered if I pissed him off. Hopefully I did, if he thinks that I would easily forgive him, he was deeply wrong. These cheep tricks didn’t work on me and never would, so if he wants to have any kind of friendship with me, he better apologise properly for the past two weeks. I put my phone on ‘do not disturb’ mode and snuggled under my covers.

One thing I couldn’t deny was the warmth I felt in my heart and the smile on my face that Ace caused. Because – yes, I was still pissed at him, but it was also nice to chat with him again. I could say that in a way I missed him in the past ten days. It was so easy to get used to have him around. His charisma was intoxicating, no wonder he attracted so many people around himself. What bothers me, was the fact that I was catching myself craving these interactions with him. I shook my head trying to not think much of this right now, after all I wouldn’t be surprised if I don’t hear from Ace for another two weeks.

When I woke up in the morning, I saw I had a message from Nami. She had texted me that classes for today were cancelled due to our teacher being sick and asked me if I wanted to go out with her for a coffee. I agreed and got up to get ready. After I brushed my teeth and washed my face I put some light makeup. Before I dressed myself, I checked the weather app to decide what to wear. It was still pretty cold outside, so I just put on a light pink polo shirt with a pair of dark blue flare jeans. I grabbed a small handbag and put some lipstick and my ID in it, before I put on my long white coat and boots. I locked the door and put my keys in the bag. While I was walking towards the metro station, I checked the location Nami sent me. It was going to take me twenty-five minutes to get to there, but the good thing was that I needed to use only one metro line. When I got into the metro, I put my headphones on and played some music. One of the songs that played was Ace’s. I have to admit that I have been listening to the band quite a lot – but I did in fact enjoy their music. The song that played was ‘Compass’ and I caught myself smiling. The memories of them performing it live playing vividly in my mind; the interaction Ace and I had while he sang the song, the hand gesture he did that only I knew what it was referring to, when I bumped into him after, and Shanks interrupting us and the whole night was just playing in my mind. It has been two months since then. Two months since we accidently met in the coffee shop that same day.

Two months since we became... friends. If I could even call us that. Nami and Usopp are my closest friends, this was something I could say confidently. And since I filmed the movie at Sanji’s place, I could say that him, Zoro and Luffy were definitely my friends as well at this point. They even acted like extras in the movie for which I was so grateful for. Dave and I started to become more and more close with every passing day. But with Ace... I called him my friend, but somehow the word still stayed bitter on my tongue. Because friends by my understandings didn’t behave the way Ace and I did. My heart doesn’t skip any beat when I hang out with Dave for example. I have never craved any of my friends touch the way I did with Ace. My mood didn’t change based on how they would response on a message or how they would act when we meet. My mind was not occupied with the thought of them like it was with Ace. Recently a lot of things in my life were revolving around Ace and I did not enjoy this.

Lost in thoughts I almost missed the stop, but snapped out of it just on time to go out of the metro. It took me another ten minutes to reach the coffee shop where Nami was waiting for me. Entering the cafe the smell of freshly made pastries and coffee beans hit my senses. The sound of the coffee machine and people typing on their laptops or chitchatting with their friends could be heard all over the place. The coffee shop was small but quite busy, busier than my favourite one. I looked around and saw Nami sitting on one of the cozy couches they had. She waved when she saw me, and I made my way to her.

“Heyyy!” I greeted her when she stood up to give me a hug. “You look amazing.” I complimented her as she was wearing a nice long off shoulder white dress with her hair put in a beautiful messy bun.

“Aw, thanks you (Y/N), you look great, too.” She said while I was taking my coat off putting it on the side of the sofa. “I was waiting for you to come before I order any coffee, so shall we go and take a look at the menu?” Nami asked and I nodded in response. We stood by the counter and looked at the drink menu they had on the walls. Nami ordered herself a caramel latte and I took for myself a nice orange and cinnamon tea. We thanked the barista once our drinks were made and went to sit back.

“So how have you been?” Nami was the first to speak.

“Pretty good.” I response taking a sip of my hot tea. “Now that we are done with the short-cuts and I have already edit mine, I’m good. How about you?”

“Uh, don’t ask.” She whined. “I’m almost done editing it, but I can’t wait for them to do the evaluations next week, so I don’t have to deal with this again until springtime.” I nodded, agreeing with her. “But anyway, let’s not talk school today. I have an amazing offer for you.” She smiled at me and grabbed my hands in hers.

“Oh no, what is it Nami?” I dramatically huffed as I knew it would be something that I might not be very found of.

“I don’t know if you heard or saw somewhere but Luffy’s brothers are going to perform at ‘Ska Stage’ and we are all going and you must join us this time.” My eyes widen at what she said. I didn’t pay attention at all where they were going to perform last night then I saw the story. ‘Ska Stage’ was the most famous live music club in Grand Line, only already known bands and artists were performing there.

“Wait, are you kidding me? Are they really performing at the ‘Ska Stage’?

“Yes, I’m serious. I reacted the same way, don’t worry.” She giggled at my expression.

“I’m only surprised because... you know...” I struggled to find my words. “It’s a place for already... well famous artists.” I meant this in the most respectful way. Yes, the guys were talented, but they were still not that known at all.

“I know what you mean.” Nami clearly read the confusion on mt face. “But they are actually gaining quite lot of attention since you filmed their video.” She gave me a big smile and nudged me. I looked away for a moment as I got quite flushed over the fact that I had a little input over the fact that the band got more recognised over the past few weeks. “On top of it, they are going on a little tour like five cities for like two months can you believe it.” She excitedly squeaked.

“What? Are you for real?” I exclaimed loudly and covered my mouth with my hands as I was about to let out a scream. Nami nodded eagerly in response. “Wow, I can’t believe it. It’s all happening so fast, and I’m so happy for the guys. But I only saw the story about the performance next Saturday nothing about a tour?” I said to her confused.

“Well, they are still in discussion with the venues but they are almost done with the talks so they should announce it pretty soon.” She explained. I hummed with a nod.

“How do you know?” I chuckled raising a brow at her.

“Luffy.” She shrugged. I let out a little laughed when she said his name. “So, you are coming, right?” Her brows raised expecting my answer. I hesitated for a moment – yes, I would love to hear and see the guys perform and actually enjoy it, not like last time when I was working. On the other hand – was Ace. “Oh, please don’t tell me that you are hesitating now.” Nami whined interrupting my thoughts. I shook my head and chuckled.

“No, actually, yes.” I laughed awkwardly. Before she got the chance to say something I raised my finger in front of her face, stopping her from saying anything. “But yes, I will come this time.” I said and she squeaked again clapping her hand happily. I giggled at her excitement. “Who else is coming?” I took my tea mug, still hot in my hands, blowing it before I take a sip.

“The usual – Luffy, Zoro, Sanji, Usopp and Kaya.” I smiled in response as I heard who was going to come as well. While Nami was taking a sip of her latte her eyes widen, and she started to jump on the spot before she put the mug back on the table. I gave her a questioning look, wondering what gotten into her now. “Oh my God, you need to hear this. It is a boiling tea – so you know Koala, Sabo’s girlfriend?” She asked me excitedly. One thing about Nami was that she loved gossips and rumours, especially if they were a hundred percent true. I just nodded waiting for her to continue. “Well... she is not the only girlfriend anymore.” She said wiggling her eyebrows at me.

“Um... okay?” I got quite confused. “What do you mean by this? Like did some of them got in a relationship?”

“Yes, guess who?” She teased me, clearly enjoying this.

“I don’t know Nami, I don’t know the guys that well.” A puff of air left my nose in a makeshift laugh.

“Ace.” She mischievously smirked. For a moment I thought that my heart stopped when Ace’s name left her lips. Without realising my smile faded away and my brows frown, my whole-body slumping from the news. I looked down at my hands not knowing how to response. When? Was he having a thing with a girl this whole time? Was it Samantha or some other girl? How could he act so single if he was seeing another girl the whole time. I could feel my chest tighten. Thoughts were running wild in my head until Nami ironic laughter interrupted them.

“Oh God, I was joking, but seeing this reaction you can’t fool me anymore that nothing is going on between you and him.” Nami shook her head giving me a knowing look once I looked at her. She crossed her arms and tilted her head at me waiting for me to start speaking.

“Puff, I was joking as well. Gotch ya.” I poked her sides with my finger, trying to laugh off the situation. She just gave me a look, tapping her fingers on her arm as she crossed her legs facing me better now. I huffed and looked away for a second before I response. “Look, Nami...” I started not sure how to word my sentence. Nothing was happening between Ace and I, but at the same time things between us were weird. I couldn’t keep pretending that whatever was happening between us was a ‘friendship’ because it wasn’t. But I didn’t know what to called it either. I took a deep breath before I continued. “Nothing is happening, okay? And I swear by it when I say it. We are just... let’s say we are friends but not really friends, you get what I mean?” it was pointless to lie to her as she could be thousand things, but stupid was not one of them.

“What do you mean by ‘friends’ but not really? What you two sleep together or something?” She raised her shoulders as she was trying to understand what the situation was like.

“No, no, no I swear we have never done anything physical not even a kiss.” I quickly told her afraid that she might get the wrong idea. She gave me a doubtful glance. “Nami, I swear I haven’t done anything with Ace.” I looked her in the eyes, praying that she would see that I wasn’t lying to her. Nami sighed loudly and rubbed her temples. We stayed in a silence for a moment before she locked her eyes with mine. Her expression softened but instead of relief a bit of concern spread across her face.

“Do you have feelings for him?” Her tone was soft, but the concern was there. She even took one of my hands in her and gave it a gentle squeeze. I quickly shook my head and laughed at her question.

“Nami, no. Are you crazy?” I looked at her like she was coming from another planet. I didn’t have any feelings for Ace. I was just simply confused of where we stood as friends. “I don’t have any feelings or anything close to feelings for him.” I continued to deny it. Nami tilted her head down a bit, her eyes focused on mine as she bit her lips not believing my answer.

“Then why did you react like you got splashed with boiled water when I said he has a girlfriend?” I didn’t know how to answer this question. I didn’t even realise how I had reacted until she pointed it out.

“I just got surprised because I didn’t expect to hear his name at all.” I tired to defend my reaction.

“(Y/N)... look, Ace is... a big flirt, okay? I would understand if you have already developed some crush on him, but he is not a relationship guy and you... you are a relationship girl.” Nami was struggling to find her words and I could clearly see this, but I was taken aback when I heard her observation about me.

“What do you mean by me being a ‘relationship’ girl?”

“I mean that you are the type who wants stability not a one-night stand.” Nami clicked her tongue. I frowned my brows. I opened my mouth to say something, but nothing came out. “You see, that is what I mean, you can’t even deny it yourself.” She laughed at me.

“So what? Is that a bad thing?” I snapped. “Plus, I don’t have any feelings towards him, and I promise you he doesn’t see me for anything more than a friend. He made sure to make this clear.” I murmured the last part. Nami squeezed my hand again and I looked at her.

“I’m not saying it’s a bad thing, I’m saying that Ace is not the guy for it.” She explained as patted me on the shoulder. “I know a guy with an obvious crush on you though.” She smirked when I turned my head quick to look at her.

“Who?” I snorted raising my eyebrow curiously.

“I’m not telling you until you at least admit you have a crush on Ace.” She nagged with a smile.

“Nami I’m not admitting anything, I don’t have a crush on Ace. Yes, I do find him attractive but so what? Finding someone attractive and having crush on them are two different things.” I said and rolled my eyes at her. “Now tell me who has crush on me?”

“Yeah, keep lying to yourself.” She also rolled her eyes at me. “Anyway, are you really not getting who I am referring to?” Nami giggled at my confused expression. I shook my head, I couldn’t think of anyone who might have crush on me. “Come on, try to guess at least.” She nagged me.

“Nami, I really don’t know I don’t interact with a lot of guys, so tell me, who is it?” It won’t be Ace this was something I was sure of.

“Dave.” Nami said and smirked. I laughed at her answer.

“No, he doesn’t.” I continued to laugh. When it comes to Dave, this was a relationship that I was a thousand percent sure what was it, and it was nothing more than a friendship. “Look, I might be confused with my ‘friendship’ with Ace, but when it comes to Dave, I’m pretty sure where we stand.” I confidently said, taking a sip of my now chilled tea.

“Girl, be fucking for real now.” Nami mocked me. “Dave is head over hills for you, and you are so blind to see it, and now I know why – because you are too busy focusing on the wrong guy aka Ace.” She blabbed and I gave her an ice-cold look.

“First of all, I’m not focused at all on Ace, and second you are wrong about Dave, plus I don’t see him in that way, so case closed.” I gave her a mocking smile and she rolled her eyes at me again.

“Okay, answer this one question and I won’t bother you anymore, if you have to choose between Ace and Dave who would you choose?” The look in her eyes was challenging as she raised her eyebrow.

“The one who makes me feel understood.” I said and winked at her, knowing that my answer left her confused a bit. She was about to protest when I interrupted. “Now tell me the tea.” I knew this was going to distract Nami for a bit. I didn’t want to talk anymore about Ace, let alone Dave as Nami was more wrong about Dave than she was about Ace.

“Oh yes, so apparently Law is having a serious girlfriend now. And she is also coming to watch them, and we are going to meet her as she will be joining our group with Koala.” Her eyes lit up with excitement while she was giving me more and more details about the whole ‘Law’s girlfriend’ situation. At some point I stopped her little rant to ask where she got all this information from which she gave me two names – Luffy and Usopp. At this point these two were as big of a gossipers as Nami was. We stayed for a little bit more before we decided to leave. While we were walking to the metro station, we continue to chitchat. Before we went to our separate ways, I called after her.

“About... about Ace... you wouldn’t tell anyone, right?” I knew she wouldn’t, but I had to make sure she would promise she wouldn’t mention anything to anyone.

“I haven’t seen nor heard anything.” She winked at me and smile before disappearing from my sight. I bit on my lip nodding to myself before I turned to walk to my direction.

On my way to home I started to think of what Nami said, especially about Dave. We did become closer in the past few weeks, but not in the way Nami saw it. We did hang out a lot around the university, Dave invited me out a few times, but I had to turn him down as I was busy with other things at the time. But going out and going on a date were two different things and Dave never invited me out on a date. He was just super friendly and a good person in general, so Nami was left with the wrong impression. Even if he did invite me on a date, I would have turned it down as I didn’t see him as anything more than a friend. Seeing Dave around university or even if I saw him randomly on the street would be nice, as he was my friend and I love coming across my friends, but there would be no blood rush, no heartbeat skipped, no excitement for when I would see him again – I would simply feel nothing.

I got home and changed into something more comfortable and like every other day I was either going to read or watch something as I didn’t have any other plans for the day. I sat on the sofa and grabbed my phone. Without realising what I was doing I opened my messages with Ace. When I realised what I have done I slightly shook my head in confusion. I knew why I opened his messages because when I was with Nami I thought of texting Ace to congratulate him on performing in ‘Ska Stage’ but he still hasn’t apologised properly so I shook the thought away. But now – home alone and bored I realised that I didn’t want to just congratulate him, I wanted to speak with him, to have some kind of interaction with him. I caught myself craving his presence, his attention even and this scared me to my core. Tossing my phone to the side before I do something that I might regret later, I grabbed the blanket and threw it over me before I put something to watch. I tried to shake the feeling away and distract my mind from Ace.

Whatever I put on the TV didn’t matter as my thoughts ran back to my last conversation I had with Kid. Out of nowhere I remembered the last time we saw and spoke to each other. It was after the Halloween party and I remembered I asked him how to tell if a guy who was kind of an ass might be into me, and his answer was simple – he would keep his distance but fail to do so every time. I wondered if this was the case with Ace, but I doubt it. Ace was just... Ace. Whatever might have logic to explain things for a normal person it didn’t apply for him. Ace was special in his own unique way, the last thing on the list of why he would constantly disappear and reappear was because he was into me. After all he was the one who made sure to make it clear that we would never be anything more than friends, even thought his view for ‘friendship’ was questionable. At this point I was the one who must distance myself from him even if it would be quite hard considering how much time I have spent recently just thinking about him. Yes, I should do this. I can’t afford to fall for Ace, let alone to admit to myself that the ‘innocent’ crush was starting to grow into something bigger.

The following week past by fast and before I knew it was already Friday. We were having our official evaluations today and I was quite nervous, but at the same time I was looking forward to seeing my classmates’ movies and see how everyone’s vision has come to life. I took a seat between Nami and Usopp. Usopp pulled out different type of candies and small snacks from his backpack as we were going to watch movies the entire day and there was noting better than having something to munch on while watching. First it was Nami’s group, so for the first four hours we were watching their movies. Nami’s short film was beautiful, it actually made me tear up, as it was about a girl who was saying goodbye to her childhood toys in metaphor of losing her innocence. Her movie started so colourful – everything filmed in warm tones, while the end was in a way darker colours representing the grieving of the girl.

“It’s beautiful Nami.” I whispered to her as I wrapped my arms around her when the film finished. She cooed at me as she saw me crying and gave me a napkin.

“Thank you.” Nami said to me and then focused on what our teachers had to say about it.

After we saw the last movie from her group, we got an hour for lunchbreak. Today was pouring rain outside so we went to the university cafeteria and sat by one of the tables next to the big windows. We were mostly discussing the movies we saw and which of them we liked the best. As we were talking Dave saw us and came by our table, taking a seat next to me.

“Hey, what’s up guys? How are the evaluations going?” He gave me a charming smile before he focused his attention to Nami and Usopp. Nami glanced at me for a second before a little smiled formed on her face. I mockingly rolled my eyes at her as I knew what she was implying with this look on her face. Usopp and Dave started to chitchat and Nami was joining from time to time. I was eating my sandwich not really paying attention to their conversation, looking at the rain falling outside from the window as I had something totally different in mind. I felt a finger poking my sides and I quickly turned my head towards Dave. “What’s up? Are you out in space again?” He asked with a smile, but my eyes widen at his question. Did he just say, ‘are you out with Ace again?’

“Excuse me?” I must have heard wrong. Dave laughed at my expression and repeated his question.

“I asked, are you out in space again?” This time he said it slower. My brows raised and my mouth formed in an ‘O’ shape as this time I heard correctly.

“Sorry, I heard something totally different.” I chuckled. “Yes, I was out in deep space again.”

“What did you hear?” Usopp asked raising his eyebrow. I waved my hand in dismiss as it wasn’t important.

“So, Dave what are you doing tomorrow?” Nami asked him but glanced at me. She was up to something. I could tell it by the way her eyes had mischievous flame dancing in them.

“Watching football match with some of my friends. Why?” He turned his head to Nami, interested in what she was about to offer him.

“Do you want to come with us instead to watch the guys perform live?” She gave him a saccharine smile resting her chin on her palm. I shoot her a quick annoyed glance before I could stop myself. I didn’t even know why I did it, but I just hoped that Dave would say no.

“The guys?” Dave asked before he realised whom Nami was referring to. “Oh, your friends? No, thank you I will pass.” He said, but it was something in his tone that caught me off.

“What do you mean by ‘no I will pass’?” I mocked his voice. Dave raised his shoulders a bit and gave me an apologetic look before he answered me.

“Not a fan, sorry.” He awkwardly said, scratching the back of his neck while avoiding looking at me.

“Why’s that Dave?” Nami asked just a second before I could. I could see that Dave was getting a little uncomfortable.

“Let’s just say that it’s not my type of music.” He chuckled. I snorted at his response, and they all turned their attention towards me.

“Yes, they are. You have played me some of your friends’ music and it is quite similar to what Ace does.”

“They do.” Nami quickly added. I gave her a questionable look. “You said ‘what Ace does’ I’m just correcting you that they are four of them.” She smugly smiled at me knowing what she was doing. Usopp’s eyes shifted between both of us catching that something was up. Dave had his head turned to the side so I couldn’t see his reaction as he was facing away from me.

“Ha-ha did I? Well, usually we refer to the lead singer, don’t we?” I chuckled awkwardly hoping that no one would make a big deal out of it. Dave taped his hand on the table before he stood from his chair.

“I have to go now, guys. See you around.” He bit us a quick goodbye and left before we could say anything.

“That was strange.” I said. Usopp nodded and Nami gave me a look. “What?”

“Usopp, do you think Dave is into (Y/N)?” Nami tilted her head to Usopp. My eyes widen in disbelieve. Usopp just nodded in response as he was eating. Once he swallowed his food, he cleared his throat before he spoke.

“It is painfully obvious.” He took another bite of his food.

“Thank you, Usopp.” Nami loudly exclaimed and clapped with her hands.

“No, he is not. I promise you guys, you are wrong about this.” I argued with them. Dave was not into me and even if he was, I refused to believe it as the feelings weren’t mutual. Nami was about to start arguing with me, but Usopp beat her.

“Yes, he is. He even asked me if you are seeing someone and if that was why you are turning him down all the time.” He calmly said. My brows raised up when I heard that. “He even thought that something is going on between you and Ace, but I promised him that there is nothing going on between you two.” I side-eyed Nami when Usopp mentioned Ace and she raised her eyebrow at me with a ‘I told you’ look written all over her face.

“I have never turned him down, neither I knew that he was asking me out on a date.” I quickly defended myself. “Plus, he asked me as well for Ace, and I told him that nothing is going on between us, I don’t know where he got this idea from.” I sighed rolling my eyes.

“Ace was giving him looks while we were filming the video all the time, so no wonder he thought you might be the reason why, but I reassured him that Ace is sometimes like this around new people.” Usopp explained.

“Yeah, Ace does this sometimes. No wonder Dave left when you mentioned him.” The sassiness in Nami’s voice clicked something in me and I got pissed.

“Okay, I want to make something clear to everyone once and for all.” I stood up from my chair as I started to put my lunchbox back in my bag. “There is nothing between Ace and I, okay? Is that clear?” I pointed my finger at both as they were looking at me with widen eyes, surprised by my outburst. “And I have made it clear that I’m not interested in dating anyone, so if someone has anything towards me sorry not sorry it is not mutual. Now please if you excuse me, I need some time alone.” I put my bag on my shoulder and storm out of the cafeteria.

I went out for a few minutes to get some fresh air. The rain was still pouring, and it was getting even colder, but I needed some time alone. Why was everyone assuming something was happening between Ace and me? All the ‘closure’ we have ever had was when no one has been around. Did Luffy mention something? I have heard that he has a big mouth, but he did promise me to not tell anyone about that one time I stayed over Ace’s place. Honestly, I was tired of hearing and talking about Ace and in the past week or so he was the main topic in all the conversations I have had with people.

I looked at time on my phone and sighed. It was time to go back to the cinema room to watch my groups movies. I slowly made my way there and when I entered Nami and Usopp were waiting for me. For a moment I hesitated if I should take a new seat, but this was going to be very childish of me, so I just sat between them without saying anything. They gave me an apologetic look, but I just ignore it.

My movie was the third one of that we saw from our group. It received something between a bad and a good grade, which wasn’t the grade I was aiming for and this made me a disappointed at myself. I knew it wasn’t going to be the best, but also, I didn’t expect it to be so average.

“It was a great movie (Y/N).” Nami whispered in my ear as she gently placed her hand on my shoulder. Usopp gave me the thumbs up and mouthed ‘good job’. I slightly nodded and thanked them. If my mood was bad because of the conversation we had before the second part of the evaluations now it was completely ruined. Usopp’s movie was last – it was about a man who had to choose between chasing his dream or staying to live in the small town where he came from with the love of his life. The ending was open to the audience which added a very nice note to the movie. I patted him on the back when it finished, as he did a great job. After the evaluations were done, I was the first one to leave the room immediately. I heard Usopp yelling after me, but I guessed Nami stopped him as none of them came after me for which I was thankful. All I wanted was to be alone for a bit.

I got home as quick as possible. The moment I took off my jacket and boots and sat on the couch my tears stared to fall. As much as I doubted myself, I have always tried to be the best in the things that I did. Knowing how much effort I put into this project and receiving an average grade did affect me. I knew that my script wasn’t the most unique scenario out there, but the grade was not based on scripts. It was based on directing. And I did fail. I pulled my legs close to my chest as I wrapped my hands around my body. Quiet sobs left my body. Thoughts were running wild in my mind about what I could have done differently to change the outcome of the movie. It was only a project, but it was the most important one for the first semester, and in my mind, I failed it. And I knew that many more projects were coming, but it wasn’t just the grade that put me down – it was the effort, the stress, the time, all this that I invested in, only to be an average result. I looked at my phone and I saw that I had some messages from Usopp and Nami, wondering if I was alright and if I needed someone to talk to I should call them. Another sob left my lips as I realised how bad I treated them today with my outburst. They were too nice to me. I didn’t respond to them right away instead I was just staring at the contacts I had on iMessage. There was one person who I knew was going to understand me, but I didn’t want to bother him. It was more like I wasn’t sure if he would mind me to bother him.

Before my mind could process it, I was already dialing his number. I put it on speaker and placed it on my right knee as I propped my head on my left one. The phone continued to ring for some time and just as I was about to hang up, he picked up.

“Hello?” His voice was low and raspy as always.

“I failed my short-cuts.” I said quietly and sniffed.

“I doubt this, doll.” His tone was soft but the way he said it was very assuring.

“Oh, I-I did Ace. I really did a b-bad job, the grade I got i-is quite average a-and compared to my classmates m-movies mine was just ‘okay’, nothing wow. I-I failed as a d-director.”

“Wow, wow, calm down okay. First of all, are you crying?” Ace asked concerned. I hummed and sniffed again. “Doll, please relax. I know the feeling, okay? We can’t always be at the top.” He chuckled. “And you said that your movie is average, you didn’t say ‘bad’ – average doesn’t always mean bad.”

“But it was nothing ‘wow’. And I had made quite lot of mistakes directing the actors.” I cried.

“Oh, you cry baby.” Ace chuckled softly. “Last time I checked you were a filmmaking student, not a filmmaker already. Don’t beat yourself so much. Just learn from whatever mistakes you’ve made.” His tone continued to be calm and reassuring. I didn’t know how to respond to what he said because he was right. I was overthinking it rather than learn from it. “Do you need me to come?” He broke the silence that took over the phone.

“No, please don’t. I just... I just needed someone to talk to.” I sniffed again and whipped my tears with the back of my hand. I cursed myself in my mind. “I’m so sorry for calling you, I don’t know what took over me. I-I hope... I-I didn’t bother you with my o-outburst and... and c-can we forge-” Ace was quick to interrupt me.

“You didn’t bother me at all.” His voice was tender. “And stop apologising and crying, otherwise I will come despite your wants.” He warned me and I could sense that he wasn’t joking. “Also, I doubt your movie is as bad or ‘boring’ as you clamed it to be. So next time your pretty face is free you are coming over and showing it to me, okay?” His voice was playful which made me smile.

“Okay.” I giggled. “I will do that, I promise.”

“Good.” He simply responded. “Plus, give yourself some credit. Our music video is already at two hundred thousand views on YouTube, and you directed this. Not many of you classmates can say the same, am I wrong?” I have totally forgotten about this, until Ace mentioned it. It has gained even more views in the last week.

“Oh my, I didn’t know it got so many views. Congrast Ace.” My smile grew wilder.

“Well, thanks, but this was possible because of you. Don’t forget that.” He hummed on the phone.

“You give me too much credit. People listen to the music and don’t pay that much attention to the video.”

“Yes and no, bu-” Ace got interrupted as I could hear someone calling for him. “Listen doll, I must go now, as we are rehearsing for tomorrow. But please, relax. It was just a grade not the determination of your career.”

“You are right.” I let out a sigh.

“If you need something or...” He paused for a second before continuing. “Or you need me just let me know.” His voice got even lower, and I just hummed in response. “Okay, I have to go now, take care.”

“Ace...” I said just before he hung up.

“Yes, doll.”

“Thank you.” I whispered. He didn’t say anything and just hung up.

I could feel myself relax a bit. This was the thing about Ace – he always knew how to make me relax, how to calm me down, how to make me feel safe. Even if we haven’t seen each other for almost three weeks now, deep down when I was dailing his number I knew that he would pick up. I knew that he was the only person who could calm me down and he did. I got this weird warm feeling in my chest when I recalled him calling me ‘pretty face’. He knew how to sweep a girl off her feet. If I wasn’t affected right now, I was probably going to make some snarky comment on it, but not this time. I took my phone and quickly wrote an apologetic message to Nami and Usopp.

After almost an hour I got a phone call from unknown number. I picked up and it was a delivery. The delivery guy asked me if I could give him the door code so he could deliver it to my door or if I would like to go down and picked it up myself. I explained that I haven’t ordered anything, but he said that he had my address and name given with the phone number. That was strange, but I gave him the door code as I was too lazy to go down myself. The doorbell rang and I opened. He gave me the bag with whatever was inside and left. I closed the door and looked at bag that seemed to have food in it. I raised my eyebrows in confusion because I haven’t made any order. I put the bag on the kitchen counter and opened it.

“No, he didn’t.” I exclaimed as I covered my mouth with the palm of my hand. Inside the bag was a box of my favourite chicken wings from Pappa Grappa and there was another box with three different cakes – a chocolate cake, a carrot cake and an Oreo cheesecake. There was also a little note in the bag: ‘I wasn’t sure which one you would like so I got you all three – Ace.’ I almost started to cry again. No one has ever done such gesture for me. My hear was beating fast in my chest. I closed my eyes and bit my lip as I tried to stop the big smile growing on my face. Why would he do such thing for me? I grabbed my phone and quickly wrote him a message.

‘You didn’t have to do this... but thank you.’

‘I know. I just wanted to.’ He replied after some time.

I reread his message a few times. It was on a repeat in my mind. Something in this message made me feel in a way I have never felt before. But not in a way where butterflies were flying in your stomach or you breath stops, nothing like this. It was this hard to explain feeling of significance if I may call it this way. Like he cared about me, otherwise he wouldn’t do such thing. Ace is a good person, but I have noticed that there are things which he would do only for those who he cared for. A warm feeling bloomed in my heart. Ace cared for me.

I placed my hand on my chest, feeling the beating of my heart. This wasn’t a ‘innocent’ crush anymore. I couldn’t lie or deny it to myself anymore. After all, in a bad day like this one he was the first person I called, he was the person I needed, he was the person who made it better. I did not fall from this small gesture – no. This small gesture just opened my own eyes for the truth that I was trying to deny myself. I did have feelings for Ace. They were nowhere near to being in love with him, but they were there. They were there, freed from the shackles I have had wrapped around them. I felt free as I no longer needed to lie to myself. Yes, maybe they weren’t mutual feeling, but the fact that he cared for me in his own way was enough. I picked a fork from the kitchen drawer and opened the cake box taking a bite of the chocolate cake. I wasn’t sure if the cake was really this sweet or me coming to terms with my feelings towards Ace. The only thing in my mind without any guilt this time was the thought of Ace and the fact that I was going to see him tomorrow night.

My apartment was a mess. There were clothes and shoes everywhere and my make up was all spread around the bathroom counter. Nami and Sanji were going to pick me up in less than an hour now and I was nowhere close by being ready. I have just finished doing my hair and what was left was choosing an outfit and putting a lipstick on. Since yesterday I was thinking what should I be wearing tonight, and nothing seemed to be good enough. I even called Nami earlier wondering what she was planning to wear even thought I wasn’t planning on matching with her. Her saying that she was going to wear a mini dress gave me the confidence to go for something not so cold friendly as well. Speaking of Nami, I received a message from her that they were going to be outside my place in fifteen minutes, and it sent me into a spiral.

I set my mind on something simple, yet eye catching – a silver sparkling mini skirt with a white top. I added some nice sliver jewellery as final touches to the outfit before I put on my white high heel booths on and coat. I took a final look at myself and realised I forgot to put on lipstick. I ran to the bathroom and searched for the one I had in mind. When I finally found it and the lip pencil, I carefully lined my lips and filed them up with the lipstick. Now I gave myself one final look and smiled at myself. I put the lipstick and the lippen in my coat’s pocket as I decided to skip on a purse.

Running down the stairs my heart was beating fast. In less than an hour I was going to see Ace and this bubble of excitement was growing bigger with every passing minute. We haven’t seen each other in three weeks, and I was going to lie if I said I didn’t put extra effort in the way I looked today. Opening the backseat door of the car I was met with almost the whole gang.

“Hey guys.” I greeted all four of them. Luffy scouched in the middle seat making space for me to sit. When I sat down, we three were like sardines in a can, and we started to laugh as Luffy was too tall to sit in the middle. I offered him to switch before Sanji drove off, but he said he was okay. “I didn’t know you two were coming with Nami and Sanji.” I said to Luffy and Zoro.

“A free ride is a free ride, shihihi.” Luffy grinned at me. Zoro slightly nodded agreeing with Luffy.

“You look mesmerising (Y/N).” Sanji complimented me as we locked eyes in the front mirror.

“Thank you, Sanji. You too, as always.” I smiled at his compliment.

“Be careful (Y/N), you might give this dumbhead, a heart attack and he will crash us before we even drove off.” Zoro snorted.

“You better shut up, before I kick you out of my car, mosshead.” Sanji snapped back. They started to snap back and forth between each other, something that was a typical for them. Luffy was laughing at their banter and Nami turned to me.

“Girl, you look stunning. Planning to break some hearts tonight?” She teased me.

“I could say the same about you.” I teased her back. I couldn’t see how she was dressed under her coat, but she mentioned she was going to wear a red mini dress. Her hair was up in a very nicely done bun while some strands were freely falling around her beautify face.

Soon we arrived at the club. The queue was long, way longer than the one in front of ‘The Red Pirates’. The security guards were intimidating but not as much as Beckman and Lucky. Behind them the loud music from the club could be heard even far away from the entrance. Suddenly a small wave of anxiety hit me, and I wrapped my coat tighter around my body. Zoro seemed to notice and came closer to me.

“Don’t worry, we are cutting past the queue, and we have a special table.” He said in my ear. I smiled and nodded at him, as silent thank you for his reassuring. Nami called after us to follow her. By the entrance were standing Koala and one more girl. The girl had a tall and nicely curved body. Her long black hair was falling freely on her back. When she turned around, I was amazed, as I have never seen such a gorgeous woman before. I even heard Zoro murmuring ‘damn’ quietly under his breath.

“Hello guys.” Koala waved her hands excitedly at us. Luffy was first to reached her and he wrapped his arms around her, lifting her up from the ground. “Luffy put me down.” She squeaked happily. He did as he was told and let a boyish laugher. When she saw Nami and me she gave us hugs. “How are you girls, you look stunning.” She complimented us. “Oh, everyone. This is Robin, Law’s girlfriend.” Koala introduced us to the beautiful woman who’s name we have just learned. I glanced at Zoro whose face was unreadable as always, but I caught his lip twitching a bit when he heard that Robin was taken.

“Nice, to meet you, Robin.” I smiled at her.

“Nice to meet you, as well guys. I have heard quite a lot about you.” She shyly chuckled.

“Whatever you have heard and depends on from who it might be true.” Sanji winked at her. Nami sighed loudly next to him and nudged his sides. Sanji gave her an apologetic look as he couldn’t contain his admiration towards Robin.

“Are we all here?” Koala asked as she counted us to make sure we didn’t miss someone.

“Usopp and Kaya should be here any minute now.” Luffy told her.

“Okay, let’s wait for them. Hopefully they come soon as I need to go and see my man before his big night.” Her eyes sparkled when she referred to Sabo. “And Robin here, too. It’s so nice to know that I’m not the only girlfriend you know.” She said jokingly.

It didn’t take long for Usopp and Kaya to join us. Now when we were all together Koala cut the line and spoke with the guards. They nodded at us and took down the rope letting us in. We walked in straight and left our coats in the cloakroom.

“Wow, (Y/N), you look gorgeous, I love the skirt.” Koala said to me as I took of my coat. I got flattered by her compliment.

“Oh, thank you. I bought it in the summer but never got the chance to wear it.” I chuckled.

“Well, tonight is your lucky night.” She winked at me before she turned to everyone. “Okay guys, follow me to our table and from there on you deal on your own.” Koala clapped her hands, and like a kindergarten kids we followed her strictly.

The club was big, it could probably fit up to five hundred people, and the fact that the guys sold out the show meant it would be full tonight. The illumination lights were showering the place in blue and purple colours. Where the stage was positioned the band’s logo was on display, behind the DJ booth. The music which he was playing was quite popular and catchy so there were already a lot of people dancing and singing on the dance floor. The dance floor wasn’t as crowded as the bar was. I could only imagine the stress the bartenders were under with so many people around. We reached the VIP section and there was security standing at the podium. Koala showed them something on her phone and they nodded letting us pass and gave us paper bracelets, which were for them to know that we were allowed in this aera.

“Okay, guys I have pre-ordered the drinks I know you all usually drink. There are waitresses as well so if you go out of something let them know.” Koala had to scream so we could hear her. “Robin and I must go and see the guys before they start, so leave something for us as well, okay?” She laughed before grabbing Robin by the hand and disappearing into the crowed. I frowned a bit, as I realised, I wouldn’t be able to see Ace until they were done performing.

“Luffy, I love your brothers for paying for all of this.” Nami wrapped her arms around Luffy giving him a kiss on the cheek.

“Come on guys, let’s get this party started.” Luffy yelled over the music and clapped with his hands. It didn’t take Zoro and Sanji another second to start opening the three bottles of alcohol in the table. They filled up everyone’s glasses with ether vodka or rum, Zoro and Luffy mixing both, with some cola or redbull. Zoro handed me mine and I thanked him. Everyone cheered and took a sip of their drink. I didn’t want to get drunk tonight, so I was planning to keep it light with the drinks. The guys were going to perform around twelve and I had no idea what time it was already. I got a little jump scared when I started to pat my sides only to realise, I forgot my phone in my coat. An annoyed sigh left my lips. Kaya was sitting next to me, wrapped in Usopp arms so I tapped her on the shoulder.

“Kaya, do you have any idea what time it is?” I leaned close to her ear so she could hear me. She took Usopp’s hand and looked at his watch.

“Eleven twenty.” She said as loud as possible over the loud music. I nodded my head and mouthed a ‘thank you’. I took look at our surroundings. The club got even more crowded since we have been here. Sanji and Usopp were chitchatting about something, while Nami was in between Zoro and Luffy taking vodka shots. The VIP podium was a little higher so while my eyes were roaming around, they locked with some random guy. He gave me a smile and raised his drink at me for a greeting. I raised mine just a bit, giving him an awkward smile in return.

“Get up you two.” Nami came and pulled both of Kaya and me up. “We are here to have fun, not to sit like some old people.” She handed each of us a glass of shot. We were about to protest when she pointed her finger at us with a stern look. Kaya and I glanced at each other, and we raised the shot glasses for a cheer before drinking them. I scrunched my face from the after taste and Kaya’s whole body shook. “Now we are talking.” Nami smiled wide.

“I will run to the toilets.” I said to Kaya.

“You want me to come with you?” She gently placed her hand on my mine.

“No, it’s fine, I will be back fast.” I reassured her and turned around to go and search for the toilets. I stopped and asked the security to guided me where I could find them, and he pointed the direction. On my way to the toilets, I had to push through people as everyone was bumping into each other. Someone bumped into me but instead of saying sorry or anything they just stayed there. It was the guy who smiled at me a few minutes ago.

“Hey, you.” He came closer to me and leaned to my ear. “You are quite an eye catch.” He said eyeing me up and down. I gave him another awkward smile as I tried to move past him. But he didn’t let me.

“Sorry I need to go to the toilet.” I screamed over the loud music as I took a step back.

“Give me, your name at least.” He came closer to me again. This guy was making me feel uncomfortable. In comparison to me he was taller, but not very tall. Very muscular, but obviously not naturally. His hair was cut short and somehow it suited his face. He wasn’t ugly, but he wasn’t attractive as well. It didn’t really matter as I was not interested in him at all. I got the hint that he wouldn’t let me go until he gets my name, so I gave it to him. “I hope to get to see you again (Y/N).” He said as he stepped aside. I quickly made my way to the toilet and sighed in relief. This guy gave me the chills.

As the security guy was letting me back in the VIP aera my breath got caught in my lungs. Ace was at our table speaking with Usopp and Luffy. He was standing with his back facing me, but I could recognise his posture and black raven hair from miles away. The security snapped his fingers in front of my face as I had frozen on the spot. I lowered my head and stared to slowly walk to our table. I tried to fix my hair a bit before he could see me. My heart started to beat fast and my mind to run wild. How should I approach him? Or what should I tell him? Before could answer these questions myself Usopp pointed out at me. Ace’s body slightly turned as he turned his head to look at me. He was dressed like the first time I saw them perform, all black with his shirt unbuttoned a bit revelling his muscular chest with his red beam neckless around his neck. Chills ran down all over my body when our gazes locked. His face was unreadable. I finally stood in front of them three, but I couldn’t dare to look at Ace as my shyness took over.

“Where did you go?” Luffy was the first one to speak.

“Toilet.” I shortly replied. My eyes shyly moved to look at Ace as I could feel his eyes on me. A little smile was playing on his lips. Kaya pulled Usopp by the hand for something and Luffy took a step back going back to Zoro.

“You know I don’t bite, doll.” Ace took a step towards me and leaded closer to my ear so I could hear him. Even with high heels on he was still taller than me and I had to look up to meet his eyes. I gave him a playful eyeroll.

“I-I just didn’t expect to see you.” I replied and tried to hide the fact that I got a little nervous seeing him.

“Oh, sorry did you come to see ‘The Ghetto’ tonight? They cancelled so we had to take over.” He joked with me and a big grin spread over his face. I chuckled and pushed his chest playfully to get away from me.

“I thought I won’t see you until after you perform.” I said.

“I got bored and came to say ‘hi’ to Luffy.”

“Only to Luffy?” I gasped and dramatically put my hand to my chest. Ace snorted and tilted his head to the stage.

“Well, enjoy yourself, I gotta go.” He said as he turned to leave, but before he did, he leaned closer to my ear again. “You look flawless, doll.” The way he said it with his low and raspy voice, almost making it impossible to hear him over the loud music, made my legs go numb. Before I could reply, he was gone. As I snaped out of the trance I got in and looked at the table praying that no one saw our little interaction. Someone yelled shots and I reached with my hand and quickly grabbed one from the table. The taste of it burning my insides but after this close encounter with Ace I needed one. Koala and Robin joined us soon after and quickly grabbed a drink for themselves.

The guys came on stage after twenty minutes. They were met with loud applauses. From our spot Luffy whistled loudly and Usopp joined him, while Koala was shouting Sabo’s name. My entire focus was on Ace. He looked so confident, his whole presence and aura filling up the space. His charming smile was big as he ran his hand through his hair. He turned his head to look at Sabo and nodded to him that they could start playing.

If things were different, we were young Skinny dipping, having fun, I remember

His voice was melodious filling the air with a soulful melody. Ace might have been hard to read when it came to his emotions, but when he was singing, he was pouring all of them and his feelings into the lyrics.

What a mistake saying the way I felt I'd say my main influence is myself And 'cause I started young, I learned a ton, I didn't run

I knew this was one of the songs which he wrote himself. When we were looking for locations to shoot their music video, I asked Ace if they wrote their songs together or if it was only one of them who did it. He told me that it depended, but mostly it was Law and Sabo who wrote their songs. I got surprised by his response back then as I always thought he had a big input on the songs, but he added that there were some songs he wrote entirely himself, and the ‘Alleyways’ was one of them.

All I wanted would become everything I ever loved, I remember (I left myself in the alleyway)

Loud applauses and cheering came the moment the song finished.

“Hello, everyone. My name is Ace, the guy playing the drums is my brother Sabo, on my left is Law and on my right is Deuce. We are ‘The Neighbourhood’ and we thank you for being here tonight.” Ace spoke on the microphone and another round of cheers came from the crowed. They didn’t waste any time and started to play their next song.

Their set was amazing. People were singing and dancing, enjoying the night. Even Zoro joined and sang some of the lyrics in their songs. When they sang ‘Compass’ Koala and I sang the loudest of our group. The song was written for her after all, but I had my own special moment with it as well. They wrapped their performance with ‘Sweater Weather’ and the entire crowed sang with them the song. After all it was their most popular song.

“Thank you everyone.” Ace said as they finished with their performance. “This was the first time ever we have played live in front of so many people. Again, a big thank you to all of you who support us. Before we leave the stage, we have two important things to announce.” His smile grew big as he was met with loud cheering. “First we are going on a small tour across the country.” Everyone cheered for them in unison, I even felt my heart skipping a beat when Ace announced it, happy that this was happening. “And second... should I actually tell them guys?” He chuckled playfully as he turned to look at the rest of the band. They nodded at him with big smiles on their faces. “We are working on our first official album which means that a lot of new music is coming your way.” The cheering from the people around was nothing compared to the shock faces of all of us, even Koala and Luffy.

“Did you know about this?” Luffy yelled at her with excitement. She shook her head ‘no’ but both hugged and started to jump happily.

“Did you know Robin?” I asked her as she was standing next to me.

“No, I didn’t. But Law did mention to me that they were going to announce something important tonight other than the small tour.” She explained and gave me a big smile.

The guys left the stage, and the DJ took over again. It would take them some time to join us. I felt a little tipsy from the shots and the two glasses of rum and cola that I drank. Knowing that Ace would be here soon I started to get a little nervous so I tapped Nami on the shoulder and told her that I would be back in a second as I needed to go to the toilet. She was too invested in her conversation with Usopp and Sanji that she didn’t pay me much attention.

It took me some time to reach the toilets. There were some girls crying while others were trying to calm them down. Others were drunk complimenting each other – the whole girl club experience. I washed my hands and looked myself in the mirror. My lipstick was gone at this point only the faint line of my lipliner was visible. I sighed as my lipstick was also in my coat. One girl saw my struggle and offered me her lipstick, but I politely declined. I quickly fixed my hair a bit and left the bathroom. Sudden thirst for water hit me and before I return to our table I went to the bar. I waited around ten minutes until it was my turn to order.

“Hey, can I just have a glass of water?” I yelled at the bartender so she could hear me over the loud music. She nodded and handed me a glass filed up with cold water. I thanked her and moved to the side, so I didn’t hold the queue. Putting the glass down on the bar counter I felt someone behind me. I turned around and the guy from earlier was standing there with two glasses filled up with some drink.

“I saw you again I couldn’t resist the urge to buy you drink. Have been admiring you the whole night so I’ve noticed you drink rum and coke.” He smiled and extended his hand offering me the drink.

“Ha, oh, thanks.” I grabbed the drink as I didn’t want to offend him. The creepy vibes this guy was giving me were growing with every passing second.

“Cheers then.” He raised his glass and clicked it with mine, taking a sip from his. I just gave him a little smile not wanting to take a sip of the drink. “Why aren’t you drinking? You know when you give a cheer you take a sip of the drink.” He came closer to me and yelled so I could hear him better over the loud music. I laughed awkwardly and took a small sip of the drink, hoping that after this he would leave me alone.

“Thank you for the drink, but I have to go to my friends.” I tried to be as polite as possible, but he held me by the shoulder before I had the chance to leave.

“Oh, please at least finish your drink with me here and then I promise if you still find me annoying, I won’t bother you again.” His tone was pleading. “I promise, I’m not some bad guy, I just think you are very beautiful, and I want to talk with you.” I gave him a doubtful look at first and then sighed and nodded. Maybe I was wrong and judging too fast, he might be a good guy after all. I planned to finish the drink fast so I could go back to Nami and the guys. Ace would be there soon, he might be already there as well, and I wanted to speak and congratulate him.

The guy whose name I didn’t catch because of the music started to talk and I was nodding the entire time while sipping on the drink. He asked me questions like if I had a boyfriend and who I was here with to which I answered quick. I finished with the drink and tried to excuse myself, but he stopped me again.

“Please, am I such a bad company? Just give me five more minutes.” At this point I felt bad as I didn’t want to be rude, I was simply not interested in him. I nodded and promised myself it was the last five minutes I was giving him.

I wasn’t sure if it was the fact that it was crowded with people around the bar or the sudden quickened heartbeat, but a heatwave hit me out of nowhere. I started to wave my hand in front of my face trying to get some cold air in my face.

“Hey, are you okay?” The guy asked me with concern written over his face. I tried to speak but nothing came out. “Do you want to go outside? You seemed to need some fresh air.” He didn’t even wait for my response as he wrapped his arm around my shoulders and started to walk me through the crowed.

“N-no, s-stop.” I tried to protest but my words were stumbling. My mouth became extremely dry, and I have never felt such thirst in my life. “I-I want-t to g-go... m-y f-friends... A-Ace...” I tried to push the guy away, but he only tightened his grip around me. I turned my head at the direction where the VIP section was supposed to be, but my vision started to get blurry as I was losing my focus.

“Shh, it’s okay I will get you back to your friends.” The guy said. “We just going to have some fun first.” He whispered in my ear. My mind barely processed what he said the only thing I could feel was the cold air hitting my face and body. Everything around me was blurred and my body felt numb. My heart was beating so fast I was afraid it might explode any second now. The feeling of something bad that was about to happen took over me, but I couldn’t fight or say something. All I could feel right now was confusion and dizziness. With every taken step the numbness in my body was growing. At some point I lost track of time. I heard a voice which sounded so familiar, but I couldn’t recognise whose it was. I only felt being let go off as the guy no longer had his arms wrapped around me and I had to keep my own balance. Keeping my eyes open became impossible, I just felt being pulled into something before darkness took over me.

After the guys were done with the performance Ace left the stage first. The only thing he wanted to do right now was to take a smoke and be in some quite place for a few minutes. The good thing was that behind the club’s stage was a door which was leading to the back entrance to an empty alley. His hands were shaking a bit from the adrenalin he felt while on stage as he opened a new pack of cigarettes.

‘The set went well, it could have been better, but it went well.’ Ace was thinking to himself while lighting up a cigarette. He took a long puff of it, closing his eyes and leaning on the wall. There were a few good things that happened tonight – first the performance went well, which was something he was rarely satisfied with; second was the fact that he didn’t get any narcolepsy attack during it, as this was something that always bothered him, especially tonight. They have never performed around so many people. The max so far had been hundred something, but tonight there were almost five hundred people, which was five times more than usual. And third – (Y/N) was there. She was their all dolled up, watching him perform. Ace wondered if she liked the performance. He glanced at her a few times while he was singing, and he saw her having fun singing along with the rest of the group. Last time he saw her was like a month ago or so, he wasn’t sure. He thought that it was going to be enough time to get rid of the effect she had on him, but he was wrong. Not like she ever escaped his mind during that time. Especially after she called him crying yesterday, and the urge that took over him to do something to make her feel better. The thought of her being in distress about something let alone crying was making him feel so uncomfortable and bothered. He hated that feeling. He never felt like that toward anyone, any girl before, and he couldn’t explain to himself why he was feeling this way towards her.

Three cigarettes later, Ace took a deep breath and went back inside. He quickly made his way towards the section Luffy and the rest of his bandmates were now. Everyone cheered when they saw him and Luffy went to high five his brother.

“Why didn’t you guys tell me about the album?” He yelled at him and Sabo.

“We wanted to be surprised for everyone.” Sabo explained. Koala was wrapped in his arms, and he pulled her even closer to him. Ace snorted and looked around. Everyone was there except (Y/N).

“Yo, Luffy.” Ace grabbed Luffy by the shoulder pulling him closer to whisper in his ear. “Where is (Y/N)?” Luffy smirked as he heard his brother asking for her. He might have been dumb, but Luffy wasn’t blind. These two might deny anything but something was obviously happening between them. He was about to joke with Ace when he realised he hasn’t seen her in a while.

“Nami.” Luffy yelled grabbing Nami’s attention. She came closer to them with a questioning look. “Have you seen (Y/N)?” Luffy asked her as he thought she might know where (Y/N) went. Nami’s eyes widen as she looked at her phone, noticing that it has been at least thirty minutes since you have gone to the bathroom.

“She said she was going to the toilet, but it has been at least half an hour.” Nami said and looked a little concerned at Ace and Luffy. “I will go and look for her.” She tried to pass between them two, but Ace stopped her.

“You are drunk. Stay here, I will go look for her.” Ace sighed. “Also don’t you girls go together to the toilets?” He chuckled at Nami before turning away.

“Ace.” Luffy called after him. “Should I come with you?” The place was big it would be easier if they both searcher for her, but Ace waved his hand dismissively, knowing that it wouldn’t take him long to find you.

He went to look straight to the toilets, maybe there was a long queue. Of course, he couldn’t get in the ladies’ bathroom, but he stopped some girls that were going out of it, asking if they saw her by describing how she looked. None of them have seen anyone described as you inside so he just thanked them and left the bathroom’s hall. He doubted that you would be on the dancefloor, especially alone. Ace made his way to the bar, observing everywhere and everyone carefully to see if he could spot you. His height was in advantage to him but still no luck. He sighed annoyed but also concern started to build up in him. What if something happened to you? You wouldn’t left without telling anyone. He stayed on one spot for a second with his hands place on his hips as he was slowly looking around. His eyes glanced at the entrance/exit hall when for a brief second just before disappearing behind the wall there, something silver and sparkling caught his eye. Ace decided to follow his gut and quickly started to walk towards the hall. He had to push his way a little harder around people as his instinct was telling him that something was not oaky.

When he finally made his way outside it took him a second to spot her and for his blood to started boiling. She was almost a street away, but he could recognise her even if she was standing miles away. His hands tightened into fists and jaw clenched when he saw some guy dragging her with him with his filthy hands roaming all over her body. Ace waisted no more seconds and ran towards her and the man catching up with them in no time.

“If I were you, I would let her go.” His voice was as sharp as knife. Now that he was this close to them, taking look at (Y/N)’s almost numb body and seeing the disorientation in her eyes which she was barley keeping open, he was ready to kill the guy on the spot.

“Fuck off, man. She is little tipsy that is all.” The guy spat at Ace.

The things that unfollowed after were so fast, if someone was looking and if they blinked, they could have missed what happened. The moment these words left the guy’s mouth Ace stopped thinking, he just started to punch. The guy didn’t even have the time to react when Ace landed his first punch on his face, breaking his jaw and making the guy let her go as he couldn’t bare the ache he felt. But Ace didn’t stop there as he landed another punch on the guy’s face. Bringing him on the ground as he stared to lend punch after punch.

He couldn’t remember the last time he had felt such rage, he wasn’t just seeing red, Ace wasn’t seeing at all. This had only happened once before, and it was when Luffy came all beaten up and stabbed under his eyes after school one day when he was twelve. Both, Ace and Sabo found the guy who did that to their little brother and gave him a good lesson. If it wasn’t for Sabo to pull Ace back that time, he was probably going to kill the guy. Instead, he left him almost disabled, for which Ace was sued to pay him indemnification for ten years in a roll. But this time Sabo wasn’t there, no one was. The guy’s face was deformed at this point until he heard (Y/N)’s voice. He stopped immediately and looked at her. She was shaking uncontrollably, and her eyes were barely open. Ace jumped on his feet as fast as he could just on time to catch her before she hit the ground.

“No, no, no, doll.” He gently tapped her cheek, trying to wake her up. His knuckles were covered in blood. Kneeling with her on the ground while holding her body, Ace pulled out his phone and dialled emergency. The moment they picked up he explained the situation and gave the address. The ambulance was supposed to come any minute now. Ace could hear someone running behind him. He turned to look over his shoulder and saw Luffy and Zoro running towards him with the security as well.

“A-Ace...” Luffy’s eyes widen at the sight in front of him. “What happened?” Everyone was stunned. No one knew what to say or do at the scene in front of them. Even Luffy and Zoro who had many street fights behind their backs had never saw such brutal view. One of the club’s guards even threw up when he looked at the guy’s face who was laying on the ground coughing blood.

“This piece of shit drugged her.” Ace spat still furious. “This is what happened.” He looked at his brother in the eyes.

“We need to call the police and you sir will be in trouble.” Said the other security as he pulled up his phone, but it was snatched quickly from his hand and crushed on the ground by Zoro.

“You take your weak friend, and you walk off, before you follow this guy’s fate, okay?” Zoro’s voice was deep, his eyes were filled with warning for the guards to just walk off and let them deal with the situation. “You better go and keep the wandering eyes away.” He nodded with his head towards the direction of the club where people started to gather with wondering eyes. The security decided to listen to Zoro and quickly went back to the club. The ambulance siren could be heard coming from around the corner.

“Luffy.” Ace said as he got up on his feet with (Y/N) in his arms. “Call Shanks.”

Shanks came out of the hospital room and looked at Ace with stern eyes. He drew in a deep breath before he sighed.

“Thank you, Ace.” He said as he patted Ace on the shoulder.

“How is she?” Ace asked, his voice low. He looked at the window from which he could see (Y/N) laying on the hospital bed.

“She will be okay once they clean her blood. Do you know how it happened?” Shanks glanced at Ace as he was rubbing his temples.

“No, no one knows. I just went looking for her, as the last thing she said to someone was to Nami that she was going to the toilet.” Ace said not moving his eyes from (Y/N). It pained him seeing her in such state. And he was mad at his brother’s friends. How could neither of the girls go with her? Why did she go alone in a first place? How she even ended up drugged by this guy? Didn’t she know to not accept drinks from strangers? Ace was mad at her as well. Because if he didn’t catch the glimpse of her sparkling skirt in that second before she left the club, he didn’t want to think of the things that could of happen to her. His fist clenched, he should have killed that man right there on the spot. Instead, he was still breathing somewhere, and the broken jaw and nose wasn’t enough for a payback.

“Ace.” Shanks called out his name, taking him out of his thoughts. “You can go home. I’m here so she is safe.” Ace side-eyed Shanks not moving from his spot. “And don’t worry no case will be open or anyone would find out that you beat this piece of shit up. I have taken care of it.” This was the last thing Ace was worried about right now.

“Still into the shady business, Shanks?” Ace snorted turning his head to look at Shanks.

“You are not the one to speak.” Shanks bit back.

“I’ve been clean for the past two years now.” Ace’s voice was filled with mockery.

“Ha, you have always been ballsy Ace, but don’t push your luck.” Shanks came closer to Ace. Their height being the same, they looked at the other with too much ego and pride. “Look, Ace. You are not a bad kid, and you know I like you and I would cover for you no matter what...” Shanks took a step back as he didn’t want to fight with Ace as he meant it when he said that he liked Ace as a person. He knew the kid for a long time, and he had a lot of good qualities. “But she is my niece, and you are a player. Whatever is going between you two you better cut it before you get her heartbroken.”

“Nothing is happening, Shanks.” Ace responded as he crossed his arms over his chest. “And I’m not leaving until she wakes up.” This was the last thing Ace said to Shanks as he turned to face the window again. He was tired but he wasn’t going to leave until (Y/N) opened her pretty eyes.

“You are as stubborn as he was...” Shanks knew how these words would affect Ace. He saw the way his jaw clenched, and his muscles flexed under his shirt, but Ace didn’t say anything. Instead, he ignored him, pretending like he heard nothing. Pretending like he didn’t know who Shanks was comparing him to.

END NOTE: I hope you guys liked the chapter and if you did feel free to leave your comments about how it made you feel as I was a little afraid how this chapter might unfold and if this type of stuffs are okay with you to read. I promise there will be no more such 'drugged' scenario, but I can guarantee you that everything that I write has logic behind it for the upcoming events in the story. I also thought it was time for Reader to realise her feelings for Ace, and the whole cake part came up so unexpectedly in my mind I really hope you enjoyed it ♡ Like, comment or reblog if you liked it, and as always A BIG THANK YOU TO ALL OF YOU WHO READ IT ♡

writing, format & dividers © cinnamoonblue fanart @a_phu14 on IG ©cinnamoonblue, do not copy or plagiarise my work.

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shegatsby · 3 months ago

Text

Love Thy Enemy

Summary; Y/N Atreides had always been a stranger to the entire galaxy, her bed wasn’t her bed, her home wasn’t her home due to the fact that she was sent to accompany and be sisters with Irulan. She had limited access to her actual family and over the years they grew distant. She thought she would be like Reverend Mother, alone, yet powerful, and soon she would realize that there was no need of being alone when a wild creature had his eyes on her for a long time.

A/N: Hello little doves! Here with another chapter. I am having fun writing this! Thank you so much for supporting me and liking, leaving commnets. Means alot. Love u all.

Warnings: Slight mention of SA. Our babies yearning for each other especially Feyd!

Words: 2.081K

TAG LIST IS OPEN! (Let me know if i forgot to tag your or if you changed your username pls)

Chapter Twelve ''Interval''

Y/N woke up with a strange scent hitting her brain through her nostrils, the scent was strong, she opened her eyes but didn’t move because she didn’t know where she was and if they noticed that she was awake they might do something to her. She was on the ground, laid on a thin orange rug, it was made of spice fibers, that was the cause of the smell. She was in Arrakis and the entire planet filled with spice, and it had a strong scent. Someone must have changed her clothes because she was wearing a long dress, the color beige, it was baggy and comfortable. The inside was lit by the dim glowglobes, the color dark yellow, she noticed the coolness of the inside, she was in a Sietch.

‘’Morning Sayyadina.’’ A woman’s voice was heard, without looking Y/N already deduced that it was the same woman who captured her. Thanks to her Bene Gesserit tricks she might walk out alive because the sisterhood had spread their prophecies and religious believes throughout the entire planet.

Y/N slowly moved her body to sat, the ground under her was carved and rough, this Sietch must be thousands of years old and still changing its shape every year, maybe another thousand years it will disappear.

The woman was standing by the open space, the room didn’t have a door just a hole that was covered with a thin sheet of spice curtain, clearly handmade. She entered the room and sat opposite of Y/N. ‘’If I had known you were with child I wouldn’t have hit you so hard.’’ She was sincere, looking at Y/N with dark blue eyes, due to spice consumption the Fremens’ eyes turn to blue. How did they know that she was pregnant? Maybe their Reverend Mother dressed her and found out. Her hand went to her head, a piece of dry blood rubbed itself on her fingers, it hurt but she didn’t make a sound, she couldn’t show any weaknesses. ‘’Here.’’

The woman came with a tray of cold water and piece of bread, Y/N came up with a conclusion that if they wanted her dead she would be dead already so she took the tray and drank the water, it tasted strange but she knew it wasn’t poisoned. ‘’Thank you.’’ She said, keeping her voice calm and neutral. Y/N looked at the woman, she was one of the warriors and she had some designs on her suit that distinguished her from other warriors, her rank must be high. ‘’Why do you call me Sayyadina?’’ she asked, curious. The woman stood up, ‘’Because you are a witch, but you haven’t completed your journey yet. Finish your bread and come with me.’’

It dawned on her, her mind immediately went to a book she had read before coming here, there was a section about Reverend Mothers of Arrakis that said; Sayyadina- Among the Fremen the Syyadina, (Friend of God in Chakobsa) is a priestess who has not yet passed within to become a Reverend Mother. When a Sayyadina undergoes the spice agony, another is then consecrated into the Sayyadina to continue the line of succession.

Did they want her to be the new Reverend Mother? For the Sisterhood, especially Reverend Mother Gaius Helen Mohiam it would be a great victory, having Y/N as Helen’s little spy and shaping the future in Arrakis. However, her main reason to be here was to be with her husband, Feyd-Rautha. She was aware of the obvious fact that Fremens hated Harkonnens and if they found out that Y/N was married to one and carrying his child… she didn’t want to think of that. She had to get out of here but she knew that alone in the desert, she didn’t stand a chance.

Y/N got up as she finished her bread and left the small room, she didn’t have any footwear but the coldness of the ground calmed her senses. Outside of the room she was kept, there was a larger space, there were holes on the walls for Fremens’ rooms to sleep, it must have been daylight because they were all inside and working. Some were training, some were sewing the warrior clothes that were damaged. They all looked at her up and down, their blue eyes screamed ‘’Stranger!’’

They were a society where their eyes talked more than their mouths. The entire Sietch was lit by glowglobs, there were few holes on the tops so sunlight coming through but thanks to the design the inside was perfectly colder than the hell outside. ‘’During the day we don’t go out, not just because of the heat, we don’t want to be seen by the enemy.’’ The woman was explaining as she walked and Y/N was following her like a toddler. She immediately knew who the enemy was, her husband and his family. ‘’At night we go out, we hunt, we attack.’’ She stopped and turned to her, ‘’I’ll teach you how to sandwalk.’’

Y/N watched some videos on it, in order to be safe and not being detected by the giant worms one must learn how to sandwalk, it was like a dance, a dance to Shai-Hulud one might argue. ‘’We learn when we’re only a child.’’ She continued explaining few stuff about her culture and the way of life here. ‘’I am taking you to our Naib. Stilgar.’’ Naib ment ‘’leader of sietch’’ she had to be cunning and manipulative as her sisters. Y/N’s hand went to her stomach and she started to pray silently; Fear is the little-death that brings total obliteration…

Feyd-Rautha Harkonenn unlike his older brother Glossu ‘’Beast’’ Rabban he hadalready figured it out that the best time to explore and attack was at night. During the day the desert was a killing machine, because of Rabban they had lost so many useful men. During the day Feyd and his men had made plans on the map of the desert, his first plan was to go to the abandoned cargo ship and deduce himself, maybe he could see something that his men couldn’t and try to find the nearby Sietches, the problem was that these Sietches were hidden so carefully that one couldn’t see but had to know the secret ways to enter. The ones they had found were empty and the rumors had reached his ears, all of the Fremen tribes were getting together to attack him. He had to stop them before it happened and also he had to find his wife. His priorities were shifting and the hologram message he got from his uncle earlier today wasn’t to his liking. Baron Vladimir Harkonnen was furious, he was demanding Y/N’s head. Of course he didn’t say to Feyd that she was pregnant, if Feyd knew he wouldn’t touch her but Baron wanted her dead. He figured they could find another highborn wench for his dear nephew and they could have as many male offspring as they wished. His words ringing in Feyd’s ears; ‘’She put our family name in disgrace. If you don’t take care of her your brother will.’’

Feyd’s blood boiled as soon as he heard that sentence, his throat went dry. He remembered the night of Rabban’s disrespect towards her, Feyd knew what kind of a monster his brother was. Rabban was going to rape her first and then torture her and then kill her. Feyd punched the bathroom mirror, he would burn his entire household to the ground before he let that happen. He looked at his reflection through the broken glass, distorted just like him, she was the opposite of him. She was kind, gentle and he would kill every man on this galaxy to see her and hold her in his strong arms one last time.

As the night came with shiny starts with the moons visible on the night sky, Feyd and his soldiers mounted the ships and left the palace. Their first stop was the cargo ship which was raided by the Fremen and left to rot. ‘’Na- Baron, we have searched the entire ship and only found Lady Na-Baroness’ headscarf as you know. There is nothing here.’’ His old advisor said in a neutral tone, standing behind Feyd who had entered the ship through broken metal lids, as soon as he entered his strong animalistic senses could pick up her pheromones, just like he did with the headscarf his men brought to him but he noticed something strange. Her pheromones were more sweeter than usual, more lively.. He wondered why he was picking that scent but didn’t dwell on it. The ship was just an empty metal box, the Fremen had taken every cable every electrical device they could.

Their next stop nearby rocks and mountains, the search continued till the first light, Feyd was growing restless, he was determined to bring her back but the first day of rescue failed miserably and his rage had met three of his servants, he put their heads on spikes for everyone to see, he announced before he entered the through the palace’s gigantic stone doors, ‘’The person who finds Lady Na-Baroness will earn enough spice to make him the emperor of this galaxy!’’ he yelled to his army who were standing immobile in the sand garden of the palace, there were only few palm trees and just orange sand. His arm saluted in the Harkonen way and screamed his name;

‘’Feyd-Rautha!’’

It had been few weeks since she arrived, the woman who captured her became her friend, Sama was a fierce warrior and also a caring person. She was giving Y/N extra food since she was pregnant. Sama had told her that the reason why she wasn’t was because that Stilgar knew she would be helpful and he was right, Y/N was healing the warriors, helping the old Reverend Mother, making healing potions and teaching it to the young Sayyadinas. She had quickly figured it out that there were no such thing as useless Fremen, the useless ones were killed, they grew up in this hard conditions and trained themselves to be selfless and be at service all the time. When she was free she was wandering in this enormous Sietch and try to eavesdrop. She was quick to learn a new language so she started to understand their daily conversations and yesterday her heart filled with hope because she heard Sama and Stilgar talking about the ‘’Harkonnens’’

Stilgar had said ‘’That boy is looking for someone, do you think it is a coincidence that we found her in the middle of the desert? Wake up Sama!’’ Stilgar had put the pieces together but apparently Sama was in denial, maybe she didn’t want to believe that her new friend was a Harkonnen’s wife…

Every night she was praying to meet him again, see him and melt into his arms. Y/N felt the ring on her finger, it was the wedding ring Feyd had given her, it belonged to her mother.. she had so many questions. Did he really killed his own mother? If he did then what was she suppose to do? She knew that nothing will be answered till she sees him in flesh and blood.

‘’Sayyadina?!’’ someone called her name, she turned to face the owner of the voice, ‘’Reverend Mother has asked your presence in her private chambers.’’ She bowed her head and followed the man, Fremen men were mostly dark skinned and dark haired, they were very muscular and always alert. The curtain was drawn, she cleared her throat and entered, the dim lights gave the room a mysterious look, there were books at every corner, potions and religious artifacts. ‘’Reverend Mother.’’ She bowed, the old woman was sitting on the ground, her entire body covered, only her face could be seen, she motioned with her hand for Y/N to come closer and she did, she sat in front of the old woman.

She was in spice trance, it was evident in her blown eyes and the smell of the spice, she held Y/N’s hand, the grip tenacious. ‘’I see you, all the time..’’ she began, her voice hoarse, ‘’he is looking for his wife… a treachery on his part.’’

Y/N was aware of the fact that too much spice consumption gave one prophecies, ‘’Soon, soon..’’ the old woman started to scream, ‘’Soon! Soon!’’ other Sayaddinas marched in and helped Y/N, the old woman’s grip left a red mark on her wrist.

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feyascorner · 1 year ago

Text

6 | The Fangs Between Us

summary. You remember how the sunlight glistened against his skin the morning after your first night together. The longing in his eyes for the very same thing now makes your stomach churn.

It might have suit him even more than the moonlight.

With an irritable sigh, you take your blade and press the sharp end against the tip of your finger.

“What are you doing?”

“Keeping you alive,” you reply, pushing your fingertip now with a bead of blood trickling down its side, toward his face. “Drink.”

warnings. angst, comfort, slow burn, reader is a bard

pairing. Astarion x GN!Reader

parts. TFBU masterlist

a/n. 6.4k words,,,tav is better than me i would've thrown hands like twelve years ago,,,I HAVE NO IDEA HOW I WROTE THIS IN LIKE TWO DAYS???? also thank you for all your comments they really motivate me to write!! so have this monster of a chapter early as thanks!!

"You'll kill them, Astarion," you mumble. "They might not have had the power to help you, but they're still your siblings. I don't want them to die hating you."

"They're not my siblings--not really. I don't care what they think of me. Hells, they could haunt me even in the afterlife, as annoying as that would be, but they're no innocents either. They've brought in as many souls as I have," he responds, his jaw visibly clenching at the thought. "I don't care if all seven thousand of them die hating me as long as you're here."

And while you feel flattered, you can't disregard the worry driving a hole through your conscience. Ever perceptive, he lifts a hand to brush stray strands of hair out of your face, his fingertips tracing your jaw. His voice is but a hushed whisper.

"You understand, don't you, my love? It would set me free--after two hundred years of forcing myself through hell--I can finally free myself from Cazador," his tone sours at just the mention of his master's name, and he intertwines his fingers with yours, drawing your attention back to him.

"It is what you want for me, no? For me to be happy?"

It is what you want. Just not like this.

Music was your way of releasing the mountain of feelings you kept locked away in your chest, waiting for the right person to recognize them for what they are. You’d hoped someone would understand the meaning behind your lyrics without you telling them outright, and they’d know what it truly meant to you. And for a while, you’d believed Astarion would be the key to this safe.

You couldn’t have been more wrong.

“While I usually entertain your certainly out-of-the-box plans, this is bordering on just foolish, I’m afraid,” Gale sighs, eyes tracing you as you pace around the house, stuffing every possible weapon and healing potion into a brown sack. Despite his insistence, you ignore him, testing the blade of a knife against the edge of the table. It’s not entirely dull, nor is it sharper than the dagger in your drawer, but it’ll have to do. “Simply charging into the tavern won’t do much good if you’ll be overwhelmed in number anyway.”

“I know what I’m doing, Gale,” you hiss, snatching an Alchemist’s Fire and shoving it a tad too hard into your bag. He tenses. “If they want to talk to me so badly, then I’m not waiting around for them to attack another one of my friends—I’ll go to them.”

“Yes, your determination is certainly praise-worthy, but can we please just sit down and think this through before running into a battlefield with a few knives? This is basically a suicide mission.”

“The wizard is right, even if it’s hard to believe,” Lae’zel announces from the corner of the room, wiping a cloth on her sword. “When I arrived, they’d already fled. They could be anywhere by now, and they’ve had more than enough time to plan another ambush if we were to charge now. We must be smart about this. I am a warrior, but I am no fool.”

“I’ll go by myself,” you say, a sense of finality in your voice. “They already showed what they’d do if someone they didn’t want to talk to approached them. I’ll just talk to them.”

Gale stares with lidded eyes. “So why are you packing so many explosives, exactly?”

“...Precaution?”

Silence befalls the room, and you take it as a sign to finish your preparations. All you can hear is the crackling of the fireplace and the rain falling against the windows of the home. The lot of you had somehow managed to stabilize Shadowheart by the time Lae’zel returned, and while she’d been conscious earlier, you insisted she rest before she consumed herself with the investigation again. You didn’t miss the way she limped back to her room with little to protest against you.

“Take the spawn with you.”

Two jaws drop at the words, the only one remaining fixed belonging to Lae’zel.

“The kainyank is living here to help. Not cause more problems for us. And so far, he’s only done one of the two things, and I’m dangerously close to turning to my blade if he doesn’t choose otherwise,” she says. “The spawn are searching for him, too. If blood breaks out, you must use him to flee safely.”

Gale blinks. “As in…use him as a body shield?”

“What else is he good for?”

While the wizard seems positively appalled, you can see the contemplation flicker in his eyes before he shakes his head. He's always been more considerate than the rest of you. “No, Tav would never agree to such a-”

“Okay.”

They both whip their heads toward you, and you avoid their piercing gazes, staring down at the dull blade in your hand. “It might help, too, if we find out why they want him. There are nearly 3000 spawns in the city—we can’t kill all of them, at least not immediately. It’d be best if we convinced them to leave, and the best way of doing that is to understand what they want in the first place.”

Lae’zel narrows her eyes. “Then you must swear it. Swear that if Astarion were to face risks, you will leave him behind. If he were to turn on you, you slice through his throat without a second of hesitation. He is there to aid you–nothing else.”

“I will,” the words feel hot on your tongue.

And so, you soon find yourself standing in front of his door, hand reaching for the door handle. There’s a slight pause right as you touch the cool metal, but you bite your tongue and shove it open, praying he’s still not as ravenous as he was a few hours ago. And much to your surprise, he appears wholly composed.

He lowers his book to his lap, eyes training themselves on you as they dart from your bag and then back to your face. The window’s wide open, bathing him in the moonlight, with dark curtains tied to the wall to keep them from obscuring his view of the city. He raises a brow. “What could you possibly want from me at two in the morning? Come here for a cuddle?”

You’re scowling again.

“I need you-”

“I’m flattered, but I fear you may stab a butter knife into my eye, so I’ll have to decline.”

“Not like that.” Your frown creases deeper at his smug grin. “We’re going to the Blushing Mermaid to find the spawn.”

“Just us?”

“They want to see us.”

“And if I refuse?”

The answer is almost immediate, cutting through the atmosphere like a knife on bread. “I hear the bloody bedrolls in the Duke’s dungeon are very comfortable.”

He drops his smile at this, and a tiny spark of pride puffs your chest. He seems to weigh his choices before snapping his book shut and standing from the bed, snatching a comb from his bedside table before pacing up to you, pocketing it behind him.

"A comb?"

He shrugs as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “Well, I doubt you’ll be giving me a weapon of any sort, so I must make do.”

You don’t correct him.

As the two of you make your way downstairs, you hear your other companions speaking.

“I didn’t expect you of all people to defend Astarion,” Gale says in disbelief, still comprehensive as Lae’zel poorly cuts up slices of an apple.

“I am doing no such thing, istik,” she mutters. “I am giving him a choice. Either to pick up his dead weight and prove his life is worth more than the dirt on my shoes or die at my hand.”

The walk to the Blushing Mermaid is painfully awkward. To you, anyway, because he seems positively unbothered the entire time. Seeing him leisurely follow behind you is irritating—and it bothers you more than you’d like to admit.

By the time you survey the area around the tavern, you’ve discerned they must be inside, considering there are no ambushes awaiting your arrival. While it’s a relief, it also increases the anxiety of what lies inside the tavern itself, and you confirm your knives are at your disposal if it were ever to come to that. You sincerely hope it doesn’t. Astarion sighs dramatically for the umpteenth time as you approach the front doors, and you finally snap to look at him with a glare.

“Will you stop breathing so damn loud?”

The change in your attitude toward him is apparent, but he doesn't seem to care. If anything, he seems more pleased with you than he was before every time you shoot him an annoyed glance or something along those lines. He responds with lazy answers, but it's better than the bitter ones he gave you before.

You're not terribly surprised, though. He's always loved pissing people off for his own entertainment, and it would be an understatement to say that he's been somewhat successful with you.

“I’m not breathing, my dear. I don’t need to, remember?”

“Then what is your problem?” you hiss between your teeth. “Are you trying to wake up the entire city with your insistent groaning?”

“Must we do this tonight, of all days? Couldn’t this wait till tomorrow?”

“No!” you say in exasperation. “That gives them too much time to heal and recover from Shadowheart and Gale. It has to be tonight, just in case they do decide to fight—then we’ll have an easier time because, in case you haven’t noticed, it’s just us two!”

He sighs again, and you swear you might pluck a strand of his hair for good measure. And just as you shove past him and reach for the door, he clears his throat again. Loudly.

“For God’s sake, what?” you nearly yell.

He smiles at you, pointing at the front door. “Well, if we’re looking to avoid an ambush, perhaps we should find another way in than the main entrance. Unless my prior knowledge as a rogue proceeds me.”

You blink. You recognize the validity of his statement and feel your face flare, and you immediately march past him again—the other way this time—and search for the nearest wall you can climb up to the roof. You hear him snicker, but you do your best to ignore it.

Somehow, you manage to climb in through the window, admittedly a lot louder than him, but you don’t think it’s fair to compare yourself to him when he has footsteps lighter than a child’s. Hidden behind one of the tables, you peer into the rest of the tavern, which is completely empty save for the bottles of alcohol scattered everywhere. You turn to signal to him that the coast is clear, but he’s nowhere to be seen.

Immediately, your face drains of color.

“Right here, darling.”

He drops down from seemingly thin air, and you gasp, nearly letting out a shriek if it weren’t for your hand covering your mouth. He grins at that.

Bastard.

“There’s nobody in the entire building–at least, not visible to the eye,” he confirms, glancing around the room.

“How do you know that?”

He points at the ceiling, and your eyes follow it. “Someone decided to build such useful beams on the roof. You can see the entire place from up there. Care to take a look?”

While you would have thanked him if he had been any other person, you only march straight by him. “Don’t do anything without telling me first.”

“No ‘thanks, Astarion’?” He quirks a brow but huffs when you ignore him. “Very well then, my liege. No need to acknowledge a humble servant such as I. But I shall let you know when I’m about to take any questionable decision.”

You’re starting to wonder if his presence is worth the headache it gives you.

Pacing around the tavern, it seems all too normal. No blood splatters against the wall, no broken chairs—hells, even the booze cups look clean, which is a rarity for the Blushing Mermaid. You check each room, inspecting down to the last cups in case there are traces of blood in them, but to no avail.

It’s like there was never anyone here.

“You look like you’re having trouble, my dear,” Astarion clicks his tongue mockingly, leaning back in one of the more luxurious chairs he’s decided is his own.

“Considering the only company I decided to bring along is lounging around like a bum, I’m not surprised,” you say back, now searching the smallest cracks in the walls for some sort of secret passage. It’s strange. Even though your companions had spoken of the bodies they encountered when facing the spawn, there’s not a single speck of blood in sight. Neither is there anything outside but the whistle of the wind.

“This particular wall must be quite fascinating.”

You fight the need to groan and whip around to snap at him, but he’s suddenly just a foot away from you, staring at the spot you’d been squinting at. Gods, you hate how quiet he is when he walks.

“As wonderful as it is getting a fresh breath of air,” he feigns disappointment with a half-hearted sigh, turning to walk toward the entrance. “I believe we’ve done what we can. Now, if you don’t mind, I’d love to return to my book–”

The wooden floor underneath him creaks. It sounds hollow.

As if there’s something underneath.

“The basement,” you blink, eyes wide. “The hag’s lair.”

He stares at you as if you’ve taken too many mushrooms. “It was sealed up after we rid of that dreadful woman. Good riddance, too, I mean, I’m not particularly fond of children, but eating them, even I wouldn’t be able–”

You rush toward the very corner of the tavern, sensing that he’s following you regardless of his obvious distaste toward your decision. There, you push against a table perched on top of the basement latch and test its locks.

It’s open.

“Heavens, it reeks here. How didn’t I smell it before?”

“Of what?” You sniff the air. “I don’t smell anything.”

“Blood, my dear. Fairly recent, too, if my judgment hasn’t gotten rusty in the time I’ve spent cooped up in that room,” he pauses. “And I haven’t gotten rusty, to be clear.”

“Right,” you retort, reaching down to pull the latch open. You don’t see him do the same, and you glance at him quizzically.

“Gods no,” he says, when he realizes why you’re staring. “I’m doing no such thing that ruins these nails.”

You sigh. Loudly.

The latch opens relatively easily, but you make an effort not to simply swing it open in fear the occupants inside might be warned of your arrival. You prop the trap door open against a chair and begin your descent down the stairs, remaining as silent as possible.

The first thing you can notice is that he’d been right.

The stench of blood burns in your nose, and you immediately cover it with your sleeve to avoid inhaling anymore. You’ve smelt enough of your companion’s blood today, and you’d rather not continue the streak with the blood of complete strangers. Astarion, however, frowns.

“Such a waste,” he mumbles.

When you turn to where he’s looking, there’s a pile of bodies—poor victims, no doubt—lying over a puddle of their collective blood mixing with one another. It almost feels inhumane to leave them that way, just hours after their death, as if they’re cattle to be used.

Though, in this case, they are cattle.

“Are you sure it’s them?”

“I’m telling you it is!”

“Where’s their lyre, then?”

“How would I know that?”

You locate the source of the whispers instantly, reaching for one of your daggers as your eyes bore into the corners of the lair that are obscured from your view. Astarion steps forward before you can figure out a plan to approach them, arrogance exuding from his very body as he holds nothing but the comb tucked in his back pocket. “We can hear you, you fools. Come out before I lose my patience.”

“What are you doing?” you hiss.

“They’re only a few spawns, my dear. Nothing like Cazador—no need to be so cautious.”

You open your mouth to protest, but a woman emerges from the shadows, her eyes trained on your own as she marvels at your mere presence. You realize she’s not alone as multiple vampires begin to emerge from different corners of the room, all a safe distance away but not enough to ease the nerves jittering in your stomach. She steps toward you. “It’s really you, isn’t it?”

Another spawn steps beside her, and you immediately notice how ravenous he seems, eyes almost glistening with hunger as they bore straight into you. The woman puts a hand on his neck, seemingly soothing him, before he slumps his shoulders again, but the pure violence swirling in his head doesn’t seem to vanish. She then looks to Astarion, and the expression on her face morphs into something more akin to dread. “And you, brother.”

“Dalyria.” Astarion only stares with lidded eyes, visibly unfazed.

You instinctively scan the entire lair, searching for any differences you can spot since the last time you were here. The only glaring thing besides the bodies piled in the corner is the study desk on the other side of the room, scattered with different potions and concoctions. Behind the desk is an entire wall plastered with diagrams—most of which study the anatomy and functionality of what you can only determine to be a vampire judging from the fangs. There are also beds everywhere—though they look like they could collapse any second—and the room almost looks like a hospital.

The atmosphere between the siblings is so uncomfortable you’d think they’ll start attacking one another any second.

“Is Leon here?” you finally cut through, lowering your hand away from your blade. “I need to speak with him—technically, all of you.”

“How curious. We were hoping to speak with you as well,” she says, motioning all the other spawn to stand down. It does little to ease you. “By all means, feel free to go first.”

You take the opportunity, too exhausted, to demonstrate polite etiquette. “The spawn are causing too much trouble in the city, Dalyria. They’re killing too many people, and it’s getting noticed by more than enough people. At this rate, you’ll lose some of your own if the Fist figure out how you guys are hiding throughout the city.”

“...Yes, I’m aware.”

The resignation in her voice makes your throat bob, but you continue anyway. “I’m saying we need to get you guys somewhere more stable. Whether it be the Underdark or elsewhere, we can’t have you staying here.”

“I see,” she says slowly. “I appreciate you trying to talk this out with us, but I’m afraid I cannot grant your request.”

Your shoulders tense, and you can see Astarion shift beside you. “You don’t understand, sister. There’s going to be an outright war at this rate-”

“Baldur’s Gate is our home as well, Astarion. You, of all people, should know this,” she demands. “We have a right to remain here, and if the Fist insists on forcing us out, we have no choice but to retaliate.”

“But you’re killing the city off!” you gawk in disbelief, unable to believe what you’re hearing.

“We’re surviving,” she corrects, the corners of her lips turning downward. “Surely you can’t hate us for that.”

“Then…” you blink at her, positively appalled at her words. “Why the hells did you need to speak with me? What was worth putting my companion through hell?”

“...There is a way—for both parties to benefit.” She looks down at her hands, then back up at you. “I didn’t expect the both of you to come together. Our informants were correct when they claimed to see Astarion in your possession. In all honesty, we technically only needed one of you, but this makes things a lot quicker.”

Confused but desperately wanting an answer, you urge her to continue. Only you can see the way Astarion’s hand slips toward his pocket, where his comb lies.

“We were going to ask you to bring him to us, you see. But it appears you’ve already done the hard part.”

The dreaded intuition in the back of your mind tells you something is wrong. Very, very wrong.

“Me? What do you need me for?” he scowls.

She disregards him and continues speaking to you, leaving a sour taste in your mouth. “If you turn him over to us, you’ll never have to see him again. That is what you want, yes?”

Both you and the pale elf freeze.

“I watched as my brother nearly killed you the day of the ritual,” she continues. “I understand how you feel being betrayed by someone you thought shared your pain. And I believe this is a way to relieve you of that pain—and finally move onto a new stage of your life.”

She acts as if Astarion is the only thing holding you from moving on from the past few months of your life. And if she’d said so a week ago, you would have nothing to defend yourself with. But you’ve cut the few strings left that tie yourself to him. You remind yourself that you no longer care for him, regardless of the slight squeeze in your chest. You’ve already sworn to force yourself to disregard him, and you want to say all these things to her, but nothing comes out. So, instead, you keep your mouth sealed.

Astarion scoffs from beside you.

“For God’s sake, please tell me you’re not actually considering this. Let’s just force the madwoman out and go,” his voice attempts to stay firm, but it’s high-pitched at the end. He’s panicking.

You don’t respond to him, and he stiffens. “...My main concern is the city. If you think you can use my personal matters to convince me to just let you keep killing all these people–”

“That matter will resolve itself in its own time. We’ll return to the Underdark—or wherever it is you wish, and you won’t have to spend your nights hunting us down anymore.”

With a dry throat, you fixate your gaze on her face, desperately trying to discern any hint of a crack in her mask. Instead, you find nothing. “Why would you do that? For one spawn?”

“I’m afraid that’s for me and my siblings to know. But I can promise you that no harm will come to you if you take this deal.”

For what seems like the millionth time this month, you have no idea what to do. Lae’zel’s words flood you like a wave crashing onto shore as you remind yourself that Astarion is here not as your ally but as a shield. If things are as Dalyria says, simply turning over the man standing next to you would end this entire ordeal. You could return to your everyday life of repairing the city, learning to heal and grow from the terrors of the illithid invasion. You could learn to let people in again.

You could learn to play music again in hopes of finding the person you dreamed would understand.

Such an enticing, perfect deal. It’s almost too perfect. But you’ve learned not to trust perfection, especially when handed to you by a vampire spawn.

Astarion, who had been observing your expression this whole time, almost seems to read your mind. Or perhaps he’s just feeling selfish, ready to defend himself. “You’ve created a lot of problems for me, dear sister. I’ve gotten accused of your own murders, thanks to your pets.”

The delirious spawn, who’d looked sluggish after Dalyria’s soothing, now bares his teeth at Astarion. Dalyria attempts to calm him again, but it’s no use. The bloodthirst cannot be satiated unless there’s blood spilled on his very hands.

Astarion doesn’t seem to take a hint—or maybe he does but chooses to simply ignore it. “I’ve always known you were strange, Dalyria, but really? Experimenting with your ‘useless procedures’ on fresh spawns? He looks positively possessed, sister. He might just resort to eating you instead.”

“They are not useless, Astarion,” she snaps. “I am a doctor. I’m only curing what needs to be cured.”

“Then tell me why you haven’t managed to cure yourself of our curse? You may be intelligent in medical aspects, but gods above, you are more foolish than Cazador himself if you really think you can cure vampirism.”

“I had nobody to test my ideas on for two centuries, Astarion! Now that I do, surely I can-”

“You’re starving them, Dalyria,” he snaps, tone drastically different from the banter you shared just minutes ago. “And they’ll give into the thirst sooner or later.”

His words are the final straw.

The spawn who’d been standing beside her launches himself toward you. Before you can even register what’s happening, his fangs are at your throat, your neck tilted so it shoots pain up your side. Just as you feel your skin split at the tips of his canines, Astarion rips him away from you so harshly that the spawn flies helplessly into the wall, which crumbles under his weight. Dust flies into your eyes, and you cough, wiping at them until it clears just enough to see Dalyria staring in horror.

“I told you, Dalyria. You are no doctor, not anymore,” Astarion scoffs, eyes narrowed into slits. “And I’m afraid I can’t let you kill my liege here, as I’d much hate to be trapped in a cell somewhere underground.”

You reach the specks of blood drops forming on your neck, horrified by the close encounter you had with death just seconds ago. The culprit of your injury lies unconscious beside the cracked wall, and you wonder just how hard he had to be thrown to be rendered in such a state. You can see the other spawns’ eyes practically glow at the sight of your blood—fresh, unlike the pile of corpses on the other side of the room.

She turns to you, desperation pouring from the wavering of her voice. “Please, don’t make me do this. Don’t make us enemies. All you need to do is give us Astarion. My brother, for heaven's sake!”

You think better of it. Something that obviously pleases Astarion if the way his face relaxes tells you anything.

“May I?” he glances at you.

Surely, there are ways–more civilized ways–-than drawing your blade, but the ferocious growling from the rest of the spawn tells you otherwise. You need to find out why she needs Astarion so badly, and clearly, she’s not willing to tell you unless it’s through pure force. You despise the idea as much as you despise the predicament you’re in, but you refuse to be attacked and deliver nothing back. Just as you nod to his question, another spawn lunges, unable to resist the red staining your neck.

But it’s smart this time, choosing to eliminate any threats before turning to the full course. In this case, the only thing between you and the vampires is another vampire.

“Brother!” Dalyria shouts, horrified.

You don't bother calling his name, only barely manage to tackle Astarion out of the way before the spawn’s claw sinks into the very ground he was standing on just seconds ago.

As embarrassing as it is to practically crash on top of him, both of you wince because it’s more painful than anything. You force yourself up with your arms, and it’s then that you see even more spawn crawling from whatever shadows they hid in, and you realize you are terribly and most definitely outnumbered. By a lot.

“Dalyria, if you’re truly a doctor, do something! Stop them, godsdammit!” you shriek in her direction.

“They’re not—they were doing so well!...” she gasps before she reaches for a tattered journal and desperately files through its pages in a frenzy. “They were nearly docile before. I don’t know why–”

You feel Astarion’s hands slip out of the sack you carry on your back, realizing you hadn’t even noticed him opening it. He’s still lying flat on the ground, and you look down at him, puzzled before he laughs bitterly.

“I’ll be borrowing this for a few minutes, darling.”

You barely dodge another spawn that comes flying at you, rolling off of him and practically slamming into the wall. And before you can crawl away, your knife—in Astarion’s hand—stabs through the spawn’s left eye through the back of their head, specks of their blood splattering against your cheek.

You want to throw up.

“No, don’t harm them! Please, just let us go!” Dalyria pleads, but you’re finished being patient with her. She clearly has no way of calming the spawn, and you’re tired of being thrown around like a ragdoll in the mess that is the lair.

You yank out the Alchemist’s Fire and chuck it at the nearest cluster of spawn—around 2 or 3—and flinch as the vial collides and explodes into flames right before your eyes, blowing your hair out of your face in a gust of smoke and wind. You swear you hear Astarion cackle in utter glee at the destruction, but you choose not to dwell on it, too busy figuring out how else you could get out of here alive.

“You’re ruining the patients!” Dalyria screams, and you almost regret not throwing the vial at her instead.

“Your spawn are the ones attacking us!”

Suddenly, her face goes impossibly pale, and you hear a hiss of pain from a few feet away. Astarion winces as one of the spawn claws at his chest leaves behind a reasonably deep wound following the path of their sharp nails. Your knife is kicked away from him, and you hear Dalyria again just as he reaches for the comb instead. “Brother, be careful!”

You’re not sure if she wants you and Astarion dead or not, but it’s seriously giving you backlash at this point.

He stabs the comb into the spawn’s neck and kicks him away, and you take the opportunity to send the knife he dropped through the air.

By some miracle, it pierces straight through the spawn’s arm. Astarion lets out a breathy laugh from the floor, attention glued to your handiwork. “Ha! And to think that could have been me!”

And while you want to admire your aim yourself, there’s no time. Dalyria’s footsteps rush up the stairs, out of the basement, and you realize you need to follow moments after Astarion, who’s already fleeing up the steps, cursing under his breath. “That demented wench!”

You stand to follow after him, but the remaining spawns are already blocking your way. There are only two more, but you brace yourself for the worst, reaching for whatever remaining weapons you have left in your sack. The smoke and debris feel suffocating in your lungs, but you have no choice but to push through, praying to whatever God you can remember at the moment that this be the last time you have to fight this many vampire spawn. Or any, for that matter.

You wish you had left your fighting days behind you when you defeated the elder brain, but you suppose even that was too much to ask for.

You arrive just in time to see the sunrise.

Lying against a wall is Astarion, who you find just before the sunlight hits the part of the ground he’s on. He’s clutching his shoulder, which drips with his own blood, and showing no signs of the quick vampire regeneration. You stare down at him, face stoic as you wait for him to say something.

Judging from his condition, you assume Dalyria got away.

“Leaving me to die here would be unwise,” he scoffs. “Though it’d be rather easy to let me burn to death in the sun, I must remind you that I much rather prefer decapitation if it’s all the same to you.”

“I’ll consider it,” you reply curtly. "Can't promise anything, though."

He leans his head back, amused. The sunlight is just a few feet away now, and you wonder how long it's been since he's been outside to watch the sunrise. “You’ve always had a cruel streak in you. I just had to lure it out, sometimes, but when it did come out—Gods, you should have seen it yourself.”

“You’re delirious,” you remind him, observing just how much blood he’s losing. You remind yourself of your resentment when worry probes a small part of your heart. One that you hope dies soon. “Why aren’t you healing?”

“I haven’t been exactly feeding well, unfortunately. And days old boar’s blood can only sustain me so long, darling,” he lulls his head forehead, sneering to himself. “Now that I think about it, dying by sunlight sounds rather poetic, don’t you think? Perhaps you can make a song about my glorious death.”

He’s definitely unhinged from blood loss.

You sigh, tossing his arm over your shoulder as you deem the sunlight a bit too close now. It’s a slow process with your own body’s soreness, but you manage to drag him to a more shaded area, propping him against the wall there so that you can rummage through your sack for a healing potion. You stop when his hand latches onto your arm.

“What?” you frown.

“It won’t help. I need blood, my dear.”

“There’s none for you here.”

“The bodies in the basement,” he bites back a groan, more blood gushing out of his shoulder. “I can make use of them--give their deaths a sense of purpose."

The displeasure on your face must be apparent because he laughs.

You pause, lowering the sack onto the ground. While you’re illuminated by the sunlight now, he remains in the shadow of the building, only able to see the sun with how it reflects off of your skin. And you find that he’s no longer looking at you but looking past you into the glowing orb you call the sun. You remember how its light glistened against his own skin the morning after your first night together. The longing in his eyes for the very same thing now makes your stomach churn.

It might have suit him even more than the moonlight.

With an irritable sigh, you take your blade and press its tip against the tip of your finger.

“What are you doing?”

“Keeping you alive,” you reply, pushing your fingertip now with a bead of blood trickling down its side, toward his face. “Drink.”

His eyes widen, and the temptation is more than evident with how his mouth falls open as if he tastes your blood from a few inches away. But as fast as it had come, he tears his eyes away. “I’m not taking your blood.”

“Stop with your prideful act, Astarion. You’re going to bleed out.”

“I wouldn’t die, exactly. I would just remain unconscious until I can properly heal myself.”

You spare him a long, hard stare. He refuses to look at you, biting the inside of his cheek to ignore the scent of your blood. And it's painfully clear he's failing.

You have no idea why he's so insistent on avoiding your blood, but you refuse to spend your own time pondering it.

“Fine then.”

He watches in utter loss as you lick the blood off of your finger, shrugging. “Bleed out for all I care.”

You turn to stand, but his hand latches on your arm once more. You’re not sure if you’re imagining how warm he feels, but you think you must be. He's always been terribly cold.

“Do you hate me now?” he asks again, this time staring up at you through his lashes. “Have I finally run through your patience?”

The question remains the same as he asked you a week ago, but it feels different now. This time, you know your answer, and it feels so, so relieving. You just wish you could understand his own feelings, but his expression is so superficial you don’t even attempt it.

“Yes,” you reply blankly. “I hate you.”

He takes a moment to process your words. You have to admit it’s satisfying to say it to his face, even if your hatred for him is new. But perhaps because it’s new is why you feel it so strongly, and you silently thank it for how confident you sound saying the words. Even if they taste bitter. You think he might have some quip to respond with, but he only smiles, and as usual, it doesn’t reach his eyes.

You never want to see it again.

Without another word, he pulls you down to him, and you nearly topple over before stabilizing yourself with either of your knees on either side of his legs. He breathes against your neck, and you think he might drink from you until you feel his fingers brush against your nape. Immediately, your body freezes like a deer in headlights, flinching at his touch as your mind involuntarily forces the last memories you have of his hands on your neck.

And ever so perceptive, he notices how you recoil from his touch.

You hate your body for reacting the way it does out of fear. Not the disgust or the anger, but something much more pathetic, and you want to go back on your own actions to stop yourself from appearing so weak to him. You think he might tease you--taunt you, even, but he stops, slowly pulling away and lowering his head from the crook between your shoulder and head.

You’re unable to see his face, but his movements seem more sluggish.

Instead of going for your neck, he lifts your wrist, brushing his lips against it before sinking his teeth into the tender flesh.

Despite the initial sting, it’s a feeling you’ve grown accustomed to over time. With him, it had always felt so intimate. It’s why you can’t help but feel heat bloom across your cheeks before you remind yourself you no longer care for him. Only when you think he’s drinking a bit too long do you try to pull away, but his arm loops around your waist, bringing you even closer as the amount of blood he’s taking increases with how deep his fangs are.

You feel so cold, yet heat burns through your very blood. It makes your head dizzy, and you take it as a sign that he’s had enough.

You only manage to speak a few seconds later, breathless. “Astarion.”

He pulls away, seemingly out of breath himself as he releases his hold on the rest of your body. He runs his tongue over the access, staining the side of his mouth. He uses his finger to make sure the rest is off his face. “I know.”

He rarely feeds so messily, so you discern he wasn’t lying when he said he hadn’t been drinking well. Knowing he wasn’t deceiving you brings little relief, but it’s still a welcome feeling. Rubbing at your wrist and the two puncture wounds now residing there, you stand up and slug your sack over your shoulder. He watches you the entire time, and you hate that you can never seem to read his expressions—only one, and that’s whenever he claims to despise your very existence.

His shoulder has already stopped bleeding.

“Why didn’t you drink from those people at Sharess’ Caress?” you finally say.

“Their blood…” he pauses, trailing off, and suddenly he seems to change his mind. “...I've grown tired of it.”

“Blood is just blood, isn’t it?”

He stares at you for a moment, then laughs.

“I wish it was, darling.”

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us3rnam3-r3dact3d · 14 days ago

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My friends we are finally here! In just a little while I’m posting the last chapter of the Firefighter AU!!

I have a lot of people to thank, so I figured I would put it all into a post before the chapter so that you guys can get right to the meat of it.

I don’t know what to say besides thank you. To the twelve thousand people who have read it, to the hundreds of comments and kudos, to the kind tags and asks here on Tumblr, thank you thank you thank you. The love being poured into me for my writing has sustained me over these ten months of writing.

This piece isn’t perfect. It very much resembles a first draft, and I might come back in the future and tweak some things, but all in all, I am so satisfied with this piece. I truly think this is my best writing.

I’ll be moving on to more Redacted fic, finishing other pieces that have been put to the wayside in favor of this one, and working on some original stuff now that I’m done. Expect at least some more one shots in this universe if not full pieces!

Lastly, I want to give some shoutouts to those who have helped me along the way with this piece. I truly wouldn’t have been able to write this without the community that rose up around me.

Thank you to my fiancé, whose love of schlocky romance novels is what inspired a piece about burly firefighters. He knows about my obsession with Redacted and, when he sees me listening he often goes “oh, you’re listening to your other boyfriends?” While he’s not into this world, he’s listened to me ramble about this piece and my plans for so long that he might as well be. Thank you, honey. Without you, I wouldn’t know how to write about love.

Thank you to Crab Anon, my mysterious analyzer who deepened and complexified how even I thought about these characters. You made me consider things in so much more detail than I intended to when I started what was meant to be a 10 chapter, 20k word fanfiction. Thank you for your constant presence and support. If you ever feel like revealing yourself (although I have a pretty good idea of who you are ;D) please send me a message. I’d love to thank you personally!

Thank you to @moonvalley94 and @nillabeanwrites for reaching out and starting some wonderful friendships over my silly fanfiction. You two have shown me the depth of community and how much talking with those passionate about art can make it that much more meaningful. Please know so many details about this piece are they way they are because of you two.

Thank you to @angelcakeeee who made so much of the details in this fic real and tangible. Your experience as a first responder helped to deepen this world and make it tangible. Beyond that, you’ve folded me into your friends, given me creative room to breathe, and made me feel so much more confident about the realism of my writing. Thank you, my friend!

And finally, the biggest thank you of all to @romirola. My friend, I don’t know what to say. You knew about this fic before anybody else and you nurtured the idea for a short and sweet piece into what is essentially a full length novel. In the almost year that you and I have talked every single day, I have grown as a writer and a person. When I believed that I wasn’t capable of something like this, you pushed back. You believed I could do it more than I did until I met you there in that belief. Thank you. I am the writer I am because of you. Steel sharpens steel, my friend, and we are very sharp indeed!

Thank you again to everyone who has read, liked, kudos’d, commented, and asked. Please know that I’ve read all of your messages, and if I haven’t responded yet, I will in the coming days. I hope you’ve had as much fun with this story as I have, and that this last chapter ties everything up for you. I love you all!

#redacted asmr #my redacted content #redacted audio #firefighter story

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geekgirles · 3 months ago

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The Doll and the Dragon

Chapter 13: Where Everything Blossoms

Word Count: 19,334

Read on AO3

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Chapter Summary: "Amalia, Yugo, Adamaï and the other volunteering members of the Council of Six finally arrive at the Sadida Kingdom. Their stay at the lungs of the World of Twelve promises to be filled with surprises. From exploring the kingdom and interacting with its kind but eccentric denizens, to properly meeting the members of the Royal Family at long last, could it be possible the Eliatropes and Sadida will be able to forge a powerful alliance? And what secrets does Amalia's ancestral home hide? One thing is for certain; this is bound to be a teaching experience for all parties involved."

The first thing she registered was the sound of birds singing, followed shortly after by gasps echoing all around her, all before she even had the chance to open her eyes. But when they did flutter open, widening in awe as joy overtook her whole being, she couldn’t help but take a sharp inhale of breath herself.

Green. Everywhere she looked, all she could see was an all-encompassing mantle of green so vibrant, it put a thousand sunsets to shame.

“This is…incredible!” Nora exclaimed, voice breathy and pink eyes sparkling at the world around her.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen a forest this grand, not even in our homeworld.” Efrim admitted, his voice merely above a whisper, sapphire eyes looking around.

Much to his chagrin, as he thought he would be the only one capable of keeping a straight head in unfamiliar land, the young dragon found himself wholeheartedly agreeing with his sister. If this was the Sadida Kingdom, then perhaps it would truly do them some good to ally themselves with them.

“Say, Qilby.” His long neck swivelled over to face the eldest Eliatrope, looking for answers. “Do you remember there ever being anything like this back home?”

“For once I must agree with your assessment, Little Brother.” He said quietly, adjusting his glasses as he, too, craned his head back to get a better look. “In all my years, I have never seen anything quite like this.” A placid smirk spread across his lips at the realisation. Apparently, this old rock still had some things to keep his mind entertained, however briefly.

“Dear Eliatrope…” Phaeris breathed out, just as mesmerised as his siblings. He was only broken out of his trance when Adamaï clasped a claw on his shoulder. When he turned to look at his brother, he found him smiling.

“Bet now you’re glad you came. Right, Phaeris?”

He frowned slightly. “Phaeris was already glad he came if it meant he could help protect his people and siblings. But…” He averted his eyes as his wings ruffled sheepishly. “Phaeris admits the scenery definitely serves as an incentive.”

Yugo watched their interaction from his place close to Amalia, chuckling at Phaeris’ proud awkwardness and rolling his eyes. Thank Eliatrope, the Ochre dragon was still one of the most level-headed Council members even without Mina around. He wasn’t sure what he would do if he had to wrestle any more egos clashing when he already had to deal with Efrim’s difficult personality, Qilby’s eccentricities, and Nora’s impish playfulness.

With a soft shake of his head, he turned his attention back to the Divine Doll, curious to see her reaction.

His heart skipped a beat at the pure, unadulterated glee on her face.

Amalia vaguely heard the Eliatropes’ own awestruck reactions all around her, yet even though it filled her with a deep sense of satisfaction to know that her people’s homeland had managed to impress them so, she couldn’t take her eyes off the verdant canvas spreading all around her. She even had to spin on herself just to try and take it all in, not wanting to miss a single thing.

This place was Inglorium on the World of Twelve!

It wasn’t just the lush foliage that caught her eye, it was the way it gave way to rich browns so seamlessly as leaves became bark. It was the velvet-like feel of the grass underneath her bare feet, so long and springy, like a cosy blanket in the middle of winter, that she had to fight down the urge to flop herself on top of it and roll around like an overstimulated Bow Wow.

It was the way the Sadida breathed and lived nature in everything they did.

As they leisurely made their way to their destination, Amalia’s eyes roamed over the architecture, the people, the beauty of it all! To the Sadida, the forests were life in all senses of the world. Not only were they deeply connected to them or even became ones with them upon death, but the Sadida Kingdom was carved into every crevice of them, too. Every single house and shop in the area were tucked away in wooden huts decorated with leafy roofs, while the greater buildings were carved into the tallest and largest trees. When they walked underneath one particularly imposing pine, they all had to crane their necks in amazement as they gazed up at the wooden bridges arching overhead.

Every time she crossed a Sadida’s look, she could see herself reflected in them. From the familiar mahogany skin and emerald hair, to the masterful use of leaves, flowers, and natural fabrics as clothes and accessories. At some point she had to place her hand over her chest, afraid that her heart would leap out of her ribcage in joy at the sight of a group of small children and their dolls that waved at her as she passed.

The further into the kingdom, the more attention they drew to themselves. All around them, the Sadida that were out and about, carrying on with their lives, would drop everything they were doing and observe their march, the same eyes she saw every day when she looked in the mirror full of wonder.

The moment they realised they were in the presence of the famous Eliatrope Council and, more importantly, the new Divine Doll they had heard so much about, their curiosity morphed into excitement. In a matter of seconds, every Sadida—man or woman, young or old, shopper or vendor—had instinctively formed a crowd that lined up around their esteemed visitors.

While the Eliatropes politely greeted them back, offering friendly waves—as befitting of Yugo, Adamaï, and Nora—, or courteous nods—as expected of Qilby, Efrim, and Phaeris—, the happiness Amalia felt radiating off of her entire being in waves could not be described.

“They certainly seem welcoming.” She heard Efrim murmur, his voice a whisper that, even so, didn’t fully conceal his apparent disbelief.

“Well, of course they are!” Came Qilby’s voice. There was something about it she couldn’t quite decipher. It sounded genuine enough, and at the same time, derisive? “These are Amalia’s people. It’s only natural they’d be as welcoming and kind-hearted as her.”

“You got that right, Qilby.” Was Yugo’s tender reply.

She didn’t have to turn around to know he was looking at her. She could even picture him with that affectionate look of his that never failed to make her melt. The butterflies that had made her stomach their home took flight and sent goosebumps down her spine as she grew lightheaded.

Oh, why did whatever it was she felt around Yugo have to be such sweet torture?!

“Whatever the case,” Adamaï chimed in. “You can’t exactly blame them for being proud of their culture. This place is simply remarkable!”

A deep longing enveloped her then, squeezing her heart in the most bittersweet hug.

It wasn’t like she hadn’t come to greatly appreciate Oma Island over her stay there. If anything, the Eliatropes’ chosen home had a special kind of understated beauty that could only be traced back to its tropical marvels. Between its natural splendour and the Eliatropes’ own touch as they made themselves at home, Oma Island was indeed a sight to behold in itself.

One that would not leave the Twelvians indifferent if only they gave it a chance.

But now that she was here, in the very kingdom that was solely dedicated to her father’s teachings. Now that she found herself surrounded by vegetation, so much so she breathed in and, rather than air, her lungs filled with nature. Now that she could at long last hear plant-life’s call loud and clear, rather than mere murmurs, and listen closely to its secrets that it practically screamed at the top of the rooftops. Now that wherever she looked she saw people just like her…

Now she couldn’t help but feel finally at home.

Almost as if those wayward thoughts had been uttered like a spell, she felt it again.

Stronger than ever.

It echoed in the chambers of her heart, sending the Ogrine-made organ into a frenzy. It resonated deep within her skull like the ringing of a bell, causing her eyes to snap open as she frantically searched for the origin of the strange force.

Her accelerated heart didn’t calm down; couldn’t calm out. It was as if that mysterious thread she tried to follow a few weeks back had found her instead and twirled itself around her very being before pulling, tugging her forwards and leading her to parts unknown. She had the impression her heart was about to leave her body as that thread kept tugging and tugging at it.

And the strangest thing of all was how tempted she was to let it happen, how much she trusted an overwhelming energy of unknown origin.

Just as she was about to fully succumb to temptation and let herself be taken away, Yugo’s voice broke her out of her daze.

“Amalia, are you okay?”

Just like that, the connection tapered off. And yet, it didn’t fully disappear; she could still feel its presence in the confines of her mind, lurking in the shadows like a beast waiting for the perfect moment to pounce on its unsuspecting prey.

“Wh-what?” She blinked away the confusion, looking up to see the Eliatrope King.

Her heart squeezed yet again, only this time in sympathy, at the deep concern that kept his features taut, his brow knitted as he stared down at her.

“Are you okay?” He repeated. “You looked a little frazzled there for a moment.”

Her cheeks warmed when his finger grazed her skin and he delicately tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. For a moment, she considered telling him everything was fine, since she didn’t even know how to explain the strange energy she had been sensing sporadically in the past few months. But then, she remembered their promise, the very same she had reminded him of just a short two weeks ago to encourage him to be honest with her.

She couldn’t in good conscience hide anything from him.

Just as she opened up her mouth to speak, trying to ignore the curious glances their companions were sending their way, she was interrupted by a raspy, yet jovial, voice:

“Lady Amalia! We have been awaiting you!”

Yugo and Amalia barely had enough time to get out of the way as a flash of green came barrelling down and collided against Efrim. The doll had to use every ounce of self-control she possessed not to break down laughing at the sight.

A long bearded Sadida man dressed in a fine tunic and holding an even more elaborate cane than Glip’s was currently squeezing the living daylights out of Efrim. It was extremely satisfying to see the usually scowling, intimidating dragon sport a look of utter bewilderment, not helped by the perplexed reactions of everyone around him. Although Amalia couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow at the resigned, if not downright pained, expressions of the Sadida around them as they watched the display.

The man, blissfully unaware of the looks his strange behaviour elicited, seemed to be lost in his own little world. As he fussed over Efrim, who looked more disgruntled by the second, he kept singing ‘Lady Amalia’s’ praises. The ridiculousness of the situation not helped by the fact that dragon in question also happened to have a serpent-like tail instead of legs.

“Oh, Sadida! Your skin sure is as coarse as sequoia bark, my Lady! As expected of one of Sadida’s Divine Dolls!” He gushed, running his hands up and down the length of the poor dragon’s arms. “To say nothing of your lean yet strong physique! My, what a beauty you are!”

After a few more agonising seconds where the obviously disoriented Sadida kept gushing over Efrim, refusing to let his poor, unsuspecting victim get a word in edgewise, a member of their audience took pity on the dragon.

“Uh, Chamberlain Thickdruft?” A woman cleared her throat, finally getting the chamberlain to pay attention to her. She pointed to where the doll stood. “Lady Amalia is over there.”

Amalia, seeing her cue, waved her hand innocently with a smile. “Uh, hello. Nice to meet you, sir.”

The movement of his bushy green eyebrows, the clear source of his lack of vision, indicated the man just blinked in shock. He repeatedly swiveled his hairy head between the doll and the dragon, back and forth, his long beard whipping around with the abrupt motion. After a beat, he seemed to realise his mistake.

“Lady Amalia! It brings us so much joy to see you have decided to join us!” He cried out jovially, his arms spread wide. Then, just as quickly, he swirled back around towards Efrim, an accusatory finger pointed straight at the flinching dragon. “How dare you try to impersonate Her Grace? Have you no shame?!”

While a still recovering Efrim could only gape after the man, Nora and even Qilby trying to offer him some comfort, Chamberlain Thickdruft stepped forward and linked his arm in the crook of Amalia’s elbow and tugged her forward, her entourage trailing after them. All Yugo could do was blink rapidly in disbelief at their retreating backs. He shared a confused look with Adamaï.

“Would it be rude to suggest he get a haircut?” The dragon deadpanned from a safe distance.

“I’m willing to give him one for free myself…” Efrim grumbled, his sharp claws out. Only to be stopped from doing anything rash by one of Phaeris’ wings.

“Must Phaeris remind you we are here on a diplomatic mission?” He said sternly, his brows knitted together. “Phaeris might not have Qilby and Shinonomé’s memory, but he is pretty sure unnecessary aggression is the opposite of diplomacy.”

The youngest dragon sheathed his claws back in with a huff. “Fine. But if anybody else intrudes upon my personal space or accuses me of impersonating the Divine Doll, so help me.”

“Fair enough.” Nora commented. “Now, let’s get a move on before the blind man leaves us in his dust!” Then, much more sweetly, she called over to the aforementioned ‘blind man’, “Excuse me, Chamberlain Thickdruft? Where exactly are you taking us?”

The man sent her a sideway glance. That’s what she thought, at least. The sheer amount of hair on his face made it impossible to determine his expression.

“Why, to the palace, of course! His Majesty King Oakheart has been eagerly awaiting your arrival!”

Amalia perked up at the revelation. Helpless to stop herself, almost by instinct, her eyes trailed back to the most imposing, most majestic building in the entire kingdom—a centuries-old oak tree that oversaw the land around it.

“Will the king be waiting for us in the banquet hall?” She asked, her mind tracing back to Bonta. Her brow furrowed in confusion at the Sadida’s shake of his head.

“Not quite, my Lady.” He began, his cane thumping rhythmically against the ground as they walked. “While the festivities in your honour will be held in the ballroom, His Majesty has expressed his desire to meet you and the Eliatrope court in a more personal and intimate setting first. Thus, I shall guide you to the throne room, where he awaits.”

“He wishes to meet us ‘in a more personal and intimate setting’, yet he plans to greet us in the room where the biggest symbol of his status resides?” Qilby pointed out sarcastically. “That’s essentially like reminding us who’s in charge around here.”

“He is the king, Qilby. And these are his domains.” Yugo reminded him pointedly. Seriously, the fact that they were having this conversation at all was ridiculous. “Or did you forget how every time Master Joris has come to Oma Island, we always welcomed him inside the throne room?”

“You know I could never forget, dear Brother.” Qilby warned, his eyes turning dark as he glared at his king. Then, as soon as it came, it was gone. “And you seem to be forgetting how Master Joris always invites himself into our throne room without so much of a warning.” He pointed out matter-of-factly.

“My point still stands.”

“Girls, girls! You’re both pretty, can we please move on?” Nora chimed in with an exasperated roll of her eyes.

Their grumbled ‘Fine’s were all the answer she needed.

From her position leading their little entourage alongside Chamberlain Thickdruft, Amalia looked over her shoulder as the Eliatropes bickered, her brow furrowed in slight concern. She was so focused on making sure Nora prevented things from escalating that, with a yelp, she almost tumbled forward and straight to the ground when their guide abruptly halted.

“And we have arrived!” He declared, using his large cane to gesture at the majestic tree before them as they all came to stop at its base. “The Royal Palace! The crown jewel of Sadida architecture.” Taking on a scholarly role, he turned to address his bewildered audience. For a moment, the Council members present couldn’t help but be reminded of one of Glip and Baltazar’s lectures. “You might not know this, oh, esteemed guests, but while the Sadida Kingdom has been around nearly since the gods found our world, it wasn’t until King Xylem Sheran Sharm, the founder of the Sadida line of Sheran Sharms, ascended to the throne and planted this very tree that it became the palace.”

While impossible to see from a distance, he turned with watery eyes at the gigantic oak and murmured, his voice full of awe, “And what a great gift it was…”

“Fascinating…” Qilby mused aloud. His fingers stroked his goatee as hazel eyes studied the building more closely.

While the Eliatrope Council had varied reactions to the chamberlain’s story beyond their eldest’s near obsessive interest for new information, Nora narrowed her pink gaze on the broad tree trunk. Her brows knitted together in confusion at what she saw—or rather, at what she didn’t see.

“Uh… Chamberlain Thickdruft?”

“Yes, Lady Nora?” He responded without even turning around, leaving their guests numbstruck. Especially when not even fifteen minutes before he somehow thought a scaly dragon was his god’s child.

“How… How did you—?! Never mind.” She massaged her temples. “How are we supposed to enter the palace?”

The Sadida’s bushy eyebrows furrowed. “What a strange question… Why, through the door, of course!”

“But… there’s no door.” Adamaï came to his sister’s rescue, trying to clue the man in. Could it be that he was actually blind and not just in need of a haircut? Or maybe crazy? Or blind and crazy?

“Oh, the door we’ll be using isn’t here.” He said matter-of-factly, as if that explained everything.

It didn’t.

“Um, where exactly?” This time it was Yugo who ventured. A quick glance the doll’s way was enough to confirm even Amalia was at a loss as to what the man was trying to get at.

Thickdruft raised one bony finger and pointed upwards. “It is up, of course.”

“Sadida can fly?” Efrim leaned over Phaeris to whisper in his ear. In response, the wise and conciliatory Ochre dragon just shrugged his shoulders up and down, his wings stretching with the movement.

“Beats Phaeris.”

In the face of the chamberlain’s cryptic answers, an equally confused Amalia kept looking back and forth between the man and the nonexistent door. Finally, she craned up her neck in search of the mysterious entrance. She had to squint her eyes as the sun filtering through the treetops momentarily blinded her, but after blinking the black spots impairing her vision away, she could finally make out what appeared to be the underside of a large platform located high up in the tree trunk.

A pleased grin tugged at the corner of her lips as realisation struck her.

“Guys, I think what the chamberlain is trying to say is—whoa!”

She was abruptly interrupted by Chamberlain Thickdruft snapping his fingers. In a matter of seconds, the very alarmed group of visitors found themselves engulfed by a series of gigantic pale pink petals, but before they could question what was going on or try to do something about it, a tremor sent them tumbling down.

“What the…?” Was all Yugo could get out before they all came to the realisation that their floral prison was actually a lift—and it was going up!

The Eliatrope King and his siblings all groaned from their respective positions in the heap of limbs they formed—a stark contrast to the dignified stance of both Amalia and the chamberlain. Seeing this, an offended—and bruised—Efrim snapped:

“How come you didn’t fall like the rest of us?!”

“Efrim.” Nora hissed through gritted teeth. It was a warning.

“What, did you know this would happen?”

Making a mental note to apologise to Nora later since he planned on sending her twin back to their Dofus, Yugo braced himself for the worst. Chamberlain Thickdruft was sure to note the way an Eliatrope dragon talked to the Divine Doll, or at the very least, he wouldn’t be able to miss the way Amalia was sure to flinch under Efrim’s accusatory glare.

However, she surprised them all.

Her face a perfect mask of calm and stoicism, she didn’t shrink away from his icy blue glare like she would have in the past. Rather, she met him head-on, the true emotions behind her brown orbs inscrutable.

“Admittedly, not at first.” She started, her voice even. “But the moment I saw the platform looming overhead I understood the actual entrance to the palace wasn’t on ground level, which means it can only be accessed by Flower Lift.” She gestured at the petals around them to emphasise her point. “I tried to warn you, but the chamberlain beat me to it.”

“My apologies.” Came his raspy response.

“But how come Lady Amalia didn’t fall like Phaeris and the rest did? You just said the chamberlain took you by surprise, too.”

She smirked, then. “Same reason why you are unaffected by your portals; it’s a Sadida thing.”

“And what do you mean by ‘platform’?” Qilby asked.

Just then, however, the Flower lift came to an abrupt halt, sending the recovering Eliatrope Council crashing down yet again. At the same time, the petals surrounding them fell away, one by one, revealing a vast grassy plateau lined up by wood boards forming a path that led straight to a large arch guarded by what appeared to be two Sadida soldiers.

One of them raised an intrigued eyebrow at them, while the other tilted his head.

“Oh, that platform.” Qilby deadpanned. “I see.”

With a grace unusual for his age, their bearded guide stepped off the lift and onto the platform, beckoning for his guests to follow him. “Come on, now! The throne room is just beyond this hall and we mustn’t keep the king waiting much longer!”

As her companions stepped out of the flower as well, all of them massaging whatever body part was sore, Amalia stayed behind just enough to wait for Yugo. When the king finally came to stand by her side, she gave him a good glance over.

The Eliatrope King raised an eyebrow at her odd behaviour, amused. “What are you doing?”

“Checking for injuries.” She said matter-of-factly, holding his arm by his elbow and delicately running her deft fingers up and down its length.

It took everything in Yugo’s power to push down the pleasurable shudder her ministrations caused. Or the overwhelming desire for her hands to move higher up, until she could take his hood off.

Instead, he tried to focus on keeping the conversation light-hearted with a wisecrack.

“I don’t see you doing the same for Adamaï, or Nora, or Phaeris.” He pointed out. “Can’t say I blame you for not checking up on Qilby and Efrim, though. They kinda deserve it.”

“Yeah, well, they’re not you.”

She said it so casually, so matter-of-factly, almost like she was simply listing facts. And, in a way, she was. They naturally weren’t him. And yet… There was something in the way she said those words that sent Yugo on the verge of cardiac arrest. A hidden meaning he couldn’t quite put his finger on, but desperately needed to hear from her lips nonetheless.

Just as he mustered up the courage to prod her gently about it, however, Adamaï called out to them, ignoring the looks the Sadida guards flashed at him.

“Yugo, Amalia! What are you doing?” He waved at them, his other claw cupped around his maw to better project his voice. Never mind he was only a few feet away from them… “Chamberlain Thickdruft didn’t even notice your absence and is probably halfway through the corridor.”

The moment broken, Amalia, who seemed blissfully unaware of the storm she had just stirred within the king’s body and soul, took a step back. “We should probably go.”

If she noticed how his smile didn’t quite reach his eyes, she didn’t show. “Yeah, we should.”

.......................................................................................................................

They left behind that moment of unspoken tension and charged feelings, and Yugo followed after Amalia as she passed the threshold, Adamaï picking up the rear. The hall leading up to the throne room was decorated with countless wooden columns with leaves running up and down their length. Running alongside the boards forming the floor were patches of grass almost as tall as the vegetation outside. He’d heard of the expression ‘to see the forests for the trees’, but this was more like a forest inside a tree.

It wasn’t hard to understand why Amalia simply radiated happiness here. It wasn’t just her father’s worshippers’ home, the Sadida truly knew how to coexist with nature. Even he had to admit that for all his people valued all life, they didn’t hold a candle to the kind of symbiosis the Tree People of the World of Twelve had with its plant-life.

They heard Chamberlain Thickdruft before they saw him.

The bearded man was up ahead, acting as buffer between the very unimpressed members of the Council of Twelve and two sceptical-looking guards. Behind the latter stood a tear-shaped gate. However, upon further inspection, the intersecting mullion that quite literally seemed to branch out and divide the bright green panels composing the door revealed it actually represented a leaf. Eyes wandering upwards, he saw hanging above their heads a delicate yet beautiful lantern.

The Sadida were truly dedicated to the bit.

“Apologies, Chamberlain Thickdruft.” They heard one of the guards say, his voice dripping with exasperation. “But I’m afraid we cannot permit you entrance without the Divine Doll.”

The other guard sent an apologetic look the Council’s way.

“Not to say your presence is unwelcomed or irrelevant, esteemed members of the Eliatrope Council. It is simply that the Divine Doll is the guest of honour. Her presence is of utmost importance to our people.”

“Of course, we understand.” Qilby said placatingly, fighting down the urge to pull a face.

“What nonsense is this?!” The chamberlain screeched, his beard dancing around to the beat of his agitated movements. “Are you blind, you thick-rooted fools? What are you, Skrots?!”

Grumbling and huffing, he stomped over to Efrim, who flinched upon the close proximity, already fearing for the worst. His concerns were validated when, without so much as a warning, the visually impaired Sadida roughly grabbed his arm and yanked it upwards, nearly tossing the poor dragon around like a rag doll.

Which was, technically, what he was trying to do all along.

Pointing at the uncomfortable-looking dragon, he demanded, “Can you not see Lady Amalia is here with us at this very moment?! I demand you open the door at once!”

Rather than obey his orders, though, the guards just shared a bemused glance and looked forward at the group of people gathered in front of them again.

“Stemphan, I think we should call the Royal Eniripsa and have her check on the chamberlain.” The first guard, who seemed to hold the higher rank, suggested, earning himself a nod from his comrade.

“The Royal Eniripsa?!” The chamberlain cried out in outrage. “How dare you!”

“I’m here, Chamberlain Thickdruft! I’m here!” Amalia called out to them, rushing through the corridor with the Eliatrope King and his dragon twin in tow.

The trio of stragglers arrived just in time to put a stop to the screeching match and to prevent a poor Eniripsa to be bothered under the pretext of a false alarm. At the sight of the Divine Doll, the Sadida guards stationed in front of the gates straightened up, even though improving their already perfect alert stances seemed impossible, before lowering their torsos with their fists to their chests in a show of respect.

“Lady Amalia, it is our greatest honour to make your acquaintance.”

For his part, Chamberlain Thickdruft just stood where he was, his bushy eyebrows going up and down as he blinked in confusion.

“Wait, if that is Lady Amalia,” he pointed at the doll’s general vicinity, “then whose wrist am I holding?” He wondered aloud as he lifted a very annoyed Efrim’s arm to illustrate his point. The Sadida’s mane ruffled from the blow of hot air that the dragon huffed out in his face.

“The same dragon as before…” Qilby deadpanned.

In an instant, almost as if he’d been burned (which wouldn’t be inaccurate given the fact that Efrim was nearly literally fuming), the man jerked back in surprise and let go of his arm. Only to invade his personal space as he poked him in the chest crossly shortly after.

“You again! Have you learned nothing!?”

Luckily for the chamberlain, before the periwinkle dragon had the chance to take matters into his own claws and improve his eyesight by setting his beard on fire, Amalia stepped forward, tugging at the man’s robe to get his attention.

“Chamberlain Thickdruft, didn’t you say it wouldn’t be wise to keep the king waiting?”

“Huh?” He turned to her, confused. Then, the proverbial bulbshroom lit up above his head. “Oh, yes, indeed! Come along, Your Grace.” He sidestepped Amalia and placed himself in front of their little procession with the clear intention of guiding them into the throne room.

With a flourish, he ordered the guards to open the gates and began his march forward as he led the group into the sacred space.

The moment they stepped foot into the room, something shifted in the air. There were many Sadida gathered inside, which prompted Qilby to mutter how things weren’t exactly as ‘intimate’ as the king had promised, earning himself a subtle whack of Phaeris’ wing in warning. The more they advanced, the more the few murmurs and hushed voices that resonated against the walls gradually quieted down until you could hear a pin drop.

Judging from the relatively more ornate and elaborate clothing the people gathered wore, Nora quickly deduced they were probably part of King Sheran Sharm’s court, or at the very least, part of the Sadida nobility. A piece of information that she shared with her siblings telepathically.

“Just as you should have done with that little comment of yours, Qilby.” Nora reminded him pointedly. She didn’t have to look to know the rest of her brothers were glaring disapprovingly at him.

“Everybody makes mistakes.” He shrugged, completely unapologetic.

Adamaï suppressed a groan. If Yugo wanted to deck him, he wouldn’t get in the way.

As a means to ignoring his unruly family members, the Emerald dragon took to looking around the throne room, his eyes widening at what he saw and all the apparent differences between the Sadida Kingdom and Oma Island.

Besides the overwhelming presence of nature even indoors, the first thing he noticed was how dark the throne room was compared to theirs. While the Eliatrope throne was located in the far corner of a room surrounded by large portals that doubled as stained glass windows, thus giving it a more spacious and illuminated appearance under its turquoise-hued light. The Sadida throne, on the other hand, while standing in the middle of the space, was tucked away from the rest of the world, in a room with no windows through which natural light could filter.

Well, no. That was partly a lie.

There was natural light inside the room. However, it was reduced to shining down on the very throne, lighting up the imposing figure of King Sheran Sharm while simultaneously reminding everyone present who was the most important person in that room. An effective strategy, if Adamaï was being honest with himself.

But that wasn’t the only way the Sadida had to bring attention to the monarch’s status and to make him stand out from above the crowd. While easily accessible, the throne itself—a rather rudimentary chair of interwoven stumps and covered in moss—was actually separated from the kingdom’s subjects by a small pond from which it emerged on top of a small island. A path of mushrooms the size of a person’s head the only way to reach the throne.

But the most surprising and intriguing thing of all had to be the tendrils of light growing at the back of the throne, shooting up high towards the ceiling. It gave the room a truly ethereal light. After a moment’s worth of deliberating with himself, Adamaï caved and craned his neck as discreetly as he could to check if the light came from the tendrils or a window located in the ceiling.

“This is very different from how we do things at home, huh?” He heard Yugo’s voice comment idly, no doubt knowing exactly what he’d been thinking because he had most likely been thinking the same thing himself.

“You can say that again.” He murmured back. A small smile still made its way to his plump lips, though.

“But you can’t deny it’s beautiful.” Yugo teased, his eyes travelling across the space as intensely as his brother’s. “No wonder Amalia seems so enamoured with this place. The Sadida really are her father’s people.”

“That’s true.” The blue-and-white dragon conceded. “But I don’t think that’s what’s got Amalia speechless right now.” Yugo, his brows furrowed, followed the direction his twin was pointing at with his tail. He didn’t just catch the way Amalia became enraptured by what she saw, but he got to see what exactly had her in such a state.

He almost had to fight down a gulp of his own. All around him, his siblings tensed slightly as they came to the same realisation:

Chamberlain Thickruft had taken them all to the very centre of the room, where King Oakheart Sheran Sharm was placidly seated, the Royal Sadida Family at either side of him across the pond that separated them.

As much as she marvelled at the simple elegance of the throne room, trying not to get flustered at the awed reactions she received from the court, what truly caused Amalia’s breath to catch in her throat was the sight that awaited her at the base of the very throne.

Not to say King Oakheart’s presence wasn’t imposing, especially as his portly figure and considerable height loomed over them from his rightful place in the throne. But she still felt enveloped by the same kind of fatherly kindness she sensed from him back in Bonta, his friendly and proud smile bringing her back to her short-lived time with her father and sisters. For all the power the Sadida King possessed, he still radiated a soothing presence that invited her to feel at ease in his presence.

The same could not be said for the people standing opposite the small pond separating the ruler from his subjects, to his right, however.

Standing closer to his father was Prince Armand. While they didn’t get to talk much, Amalia remembered him as a composed if a little ill-tempered royal which, judging from his stern expression and the thin line of his lips, hadn’t changed since they last saw each other. Unlike his father’s calm joviality, the heir to the throne exuded an air of arrogant sophistication that was reflected by his cherry-coloured fan collar, white and red shendyt tied around his waist, and his equally cherry shin-high anklets.

His choice of outfit could not be a more clear sign that he was ready to succeed his father, according to Sadida tradition.

And yet, the prince’s demeanour wasn’t the one responsible for the way her stomach churned in apprehension. That dubious honour went to the blonde Osamodas woman wearing a dark red off-shoulder dress standing by the prince’s side. The doll also remembered her from the banquet, the suspicions she formed of her being married into the Sadida family upon seeing her in her people’s traditional garments being sadly confirmed.

While she hadn’t the ‘pleasure’ of properly introducing herself last time they were in the same room, the uneasy feeling she got at the sight of her family turned into displeasure the more she looked at her. Amalia didn’t mean to judge her without knowing her first, but she couldn’t help the spike of annoyance she felt when she got a closer look at her. Unlike the Sheran Sharms and their subjects, who clearly awaited their arrival with great eagerness, the Osamodas princess remained completely passive and aloof. While her posture was impeccable—no doubt the result of a lifetime of etiquette classes in order to stand out in high society—, apparently, she couldn’t be bothered to hide how her red eyes were dull with disinterest; almost as if she were bored by the mere idea of getting to know the child of the god her husband and his people worshipped.

The god to whom she owed the pastures her people’s animals fed off. The very same one whose domains she intended to rule one day.

Even though keeping herself from pursing her lips in distaste proved itself to be quite the challenge, the surprise the doll felt at the sight of the Sadida Royal Family paled in comparison to what had truly caught her widening eyes. She almost lamented the heavy silence, charged with anticipation, that had fallen over the room, as some whispered conversations would have been a great help at hiding the small gasp she let out.

She honestly didn’t know whether to feel grateful or mortified by the low whistle that no doubt came from Nora.

Because standing guard to the left of the king was no other than the Cra woman she bumped into at Bonta.

The more she looked at her, the more the doll had to reluctantly admit that was how the Woodland Beauty’s followers were meant to look, unlike the unsightly Matriarch and her entourage of plain-looking archers.

From her fair skin, tastefully punctuated by a series of delicate freckles on her face. To the graceful yet confident way in which she carried herself, her spine straight and her arms folded behind her back, her emerald eyes big and alert in case of any disruptions. To her soft features, framed by silky platinum blonde strands that seemed to have purposely escaped a simple bun that, somehow, managed to look orderly messy, which only heightened her beauty.

While her clothes were relatively simple—a form-fitting, white blouse that flared around her hips, matching fingerless gloves with golden hem, a pair of black pants, and shin-high leather boots—, they still highlighted her athletic and well-developed figure.

Amalia hadn’t had the chance to take a good look at her last time they saw each other, but there was no denying it. This woman was straight up gorgeous.

Something unpleasant coiled itself around the doll’s ogrine heart, its grip on the organ only getting tighter the more she stared at the Cra’s perfect proportions and realised hers didn’t quite match the archer’s. While Amalia tried to placate her wounded ego by assuring herself that she possessed the more shapely legs, there was no denying that the king’s guard (was that who she was supposed to be?) had an ample bosom, while the doll was rather petite.

Such a fact had never worried her before, but now, for some reason, she found herself stealing furtive glances Yugo’s way and wondering what he thought of the beautiful Cra in front of them. Did he think she was prettier than her?

Bile rose to her mouth at the thought, her fists clenching where she clasped her hands in front of her.

Luckily for her, before she could dwell more on those thoughts, Chamberlain Thickdruft chose that very moment to break the silence himself. The visitors from Oma could only blink in bewilderment when the old man fell to his knees, throwing himself to the ground rather than bowing.

“Your Majesty, it is with great pleasure that I present Sadida’s eleventh child to you. As well as the Eliatropes’ ruler.” With an agility that had everyone unfamiliar to him flinching in surprise, he rose to his feet and beckoned Amalia and Yugo forward. “Lady Amalia and His Majesty, King Yugo.”

Amalia and Yugo took that as their cue to properly introduce themselves. Stepping forward and closer to the throne, they took a page out of the chamberlain’s book and bowed before the king. Just not quite as… enthusiastically.

Just as they raised their heads back up, King Sheran Sharm surprised them all by letting out a hearty laugh. Once it subsided, he smiled down at the chamberlain, an eyebrow raised in amusement.

“Thank you, Chamberlain Thickdruft, for this introduction. Worry not, however, for I already had the immense pleasure of making their acquaintance at the banquet that took place a few months ago.”

Whatever the man started to mumble then was swiftly ignored the moment King Oakheart rose to his feet and began his leisurely descent down the mushroom steps. Yugo had almost forgotten how tall he was, until they were face to face and he was forcefully reminded of the fact by the sight of the Sadida ruler towering over Adamaï. A feat in itself, considering Yugo—who prided himself on his height upon finally reaching biological adulthood—wasn’t even the same height as Prince Armand, whereas his dragon twin managed to dwarf the latter thanks to his horns.

Before the Eliatrope Council and the Divine Doll even had time to register what was going on, loud gasps and shocked whispers erupted around the room.

King Oakheart had bent his body forward in a respectful bow at them.

Prince Armand was less than enthused.

“Father! They’re the outsiders!” He chided. By his side, his wife scowled in clear disapproval of the king’s actions.

“They’re our guests, Armand.” The King corrected, not even turning to look at his son. Then, raising his body, he smiled down at them all, his paternal gaze lingering on Yugo and Amalia before placing both hands on their shoulders. “And as Sadida’s daughter and his chosens to look after her, we owe them our gratitude and respect.”

Looking over the king’s shoulder, Yugo could make out how his son folded his arms over his chest crossly, his scowl deepening. In an instant, his wife was hovering over him, whispering something the Eliatrope King couldn’t hear, and wasn’t even sure he wanted to.

He chose to focus back on the more welcoming king instead.

“And we thank you for your kindness, Your Majesty. It is truly an honour to be here.”

As if on cue, the attending members of the Council of Six voiced their agreement and thanks as well, eliciting yet another pleased chuckle from the kindly king. When he settled his dark, warm gaze on his most esteemed guest, Amalia couldn’t help but smile back.

“There are truly no words to express just how much your presence means to us, Your Grace.” He said solemnly. “We sincerely hope you will all enjoy your stay here.”

Her smile never wavering, Amalia offered him a respectful nod of her own. “I am certain that we will, Your Majesty.”

They all started when, without warning, King Oakheart clasped his large palms together, the force behind the action almost strong enough to pick up wind and push them all back. The Divine Doll merely had a few seconds to blink her disorientation away before he motioned towards the people stationed around the pond with an inviting gesture.

“Please, allow me to properly introduce you to my family.” He began. Thanks to his long legs, in just a few strides he was by his son’s side, clasping a hand on his shoulder as he presented him to their guests. “As you may remember from Bonta, this is my son and heir, Prince Armand. I trust today’s affair will be a proper introduction for both of you—for you, esteemed Eliatrope Council, to our world’s politics, and for my son, to how a leader must act in the face of diplomatic envoys.”

“We have no doubt this will be a most advantageous affair, Your Majesty.” Adamaï had to stifle a chuckle at the king’s intentions, though out of genuine mirth, rather than condescension.

The Sadida Prince, on the other hand, didn’t quite take it in stride. “As you wish, Father.” Despite his deferential words, his tone was strained and resigned, almost as if he resented not being able to rebel against his father’s authority.

Yugo didn’t have much time to placate the uncomfortable knot in his stomach at the prince’s clear distaste for their presence before he found himself grimacing for completely different reasons. One stolen look in Amalia’s direction was enough to prove she wasn’t doing much better, if the way she tensed almost imperceptibly was any indication.

Because King Oakheart was now gesturing at the Osamodas woman standing alongside the prince.

“Anybody else notice how the only one who looks glad to have her here seems to be His Royal Stuck-Up-ness?”

“Qilby, not now!” Phaeris had to content himself with chiding his brother, knowing he couldn’t swat him with his wings without causing a scene.

“Uh… It wasn’t me.” The bespectacled Eliatrope scowled behind his glasses. He masterfully slid them back up to hide his expression from the Sadida. “That was actually Nora.”

“Can confirm it.” Efrim chimed in, his twin sister’s voice resonating more loudly in his head than their siblings’ due to their bond.

At that, Phaeris actually looked chagrined. “Sorry, force of habit.”

“Pipe it down, you three!” Adamaï snapped at them. It would be pointless to go through these introductions if they completely missed them because they were talking amongst themselves.

Although, there was no denying Nora had a point. The only ones who seemed even slightly approving of the prince’s wife being introduced to them were the woman in question and the prince himself. A discreet scan of the room alerted him of the court’s less than enthused reactions at the fact that their leader had brought attention to the future queen consort. In fact, even King Oakheart’s voice, unfailingly kind and dripping with pride as he talked about his kingdom and his family, lost a bit of that levity and warmth when he reached his daughter-in-law.

“And this is my son’s wife, Princess Aurora of the Osamodas Kingdom.”

“Future Queen Consort of the Sadida Kingdom.” Armand added with a touch of pride in his voice that had his wife smirking in pleasure and the court stifling down dreadful groans.

Aurora curtsied upon her introduction, the smirk vanishing back into her perfectly crafted mask of detached neutrality. “Lady Amalia, esteemed members of the Eliatrope Council.” Was all she said.

Yugo squinted his eyes at her for a moment. He could have sworn he saw a flicker of something spark behind her red eyes. But before he could decide whether to chance using his Wakfu vision or not to properly gouge out her intentions, he was distracted by Amalia returning the curtsy, a hand to her chest.

“Yes, I remember you from Bonta. Although we didn’t have the chance to properly meet then.” Not that she even wanted to, is what she didn’t add. Aurora’s whole family gave her the creeps, and the blonde Osamodas before her was no exception.

Also, she said it before, and she’d say it again: she had to be the only person alive who could make Sadida clothing look that tacky.

Personal impressions aside, however, she was sent to the World of Twelve for a reason, and that reason was to unite the Twelvians and the Eliatropes through peaceful coexistence and signs of good will. Therefore, she would not risk jeopardising Yugo’s people’s chances by potentially turning the Osamodas, and by proxy the Sadida, against them by disrespecting their princess and future queen, respectively.

It wasn’t long before she learned the Osamodas princess had no such qualms.

“May I be so bold to speak my mind freely, Your Grace?” Aurora requested, taking Amalia aback.

In retrospect, that should have been her first warning.

The way father and son shared concerned glances and Armand seemed to implore his wife with his panicked brown eyes should have been the second.

But she missed them, so she naively went on. “Oh! Well, yes, indeed. Please, Your Highness, do not hesitate to be frank with me if you feel so inclined.”

By the time Aurora’s eyes glinted and her smirk turned downright predatory, it was too late. Amalia felt a chill go down her spine under the Osamodas princess’ judgemental scrutiny.

“Over the years, many tales detailing the feats of Sadida’s Divine Dolls have reached our ears.” She began, innocently enough, but there was an edge to her voice, like a blade hidden under a dress. “Tales of their role behind the peace we know and thrive in, of their creation…” She paused purposely, making a show of staring at Amalia from head to toe. “Of their appearance.”

She let the words hang in the air, the tension created by them so thick you could cut it with the blade she hid under her skirt. It appeared Princess Aurora wasn’t just a pretty face; she also had to be a talented alchemist for her tongue to be coated in so much poison.

Whatever good will Amalia had tried to muster upon their introduction up and vanished at her silent accusations. Her jaw clenched, she lifted her chin up in defiance, her brown eyes devoid of their usual warmth as they stared down at the woman her father’s people had the misfortune of calling their future queen. Her tone was as icy as Aurora’s was venomous—a last warning to watch what she said.

“What are you trying to imply, Princess?”

“Aurora, please.” Armand practically begged, but his pleas went ignored.

The blonde had the audacity to smile innocently at her, though it did nothing to conceal the derision in her eyes. For a race that was supposed to practice vegetarianism, the Osamodas princess seemed to be out for blood.

“Nothing at all, my Lady.” She dismissed, her tone dripping with fake kindness. “I am merely pointing out how Divine Dolls are supposed to be, well, divine, whereas you are indiscernible from a mere mortal. Blessed be Osamodas, Sadida must have really improved in his craft over the centuries.”

“Aurora!” Armand hissed, mortified. Even behind the curtains of green dreadlocks covering his face, he blanched at his wife’s brazenness.

Didn’t she know she was most likely offending one of Sadida’s Dolls, a creature whose worship was only surpassed by her divine father himself? She couldn’t possibly just be ignorant of the momentous occasion that presented itself before them. He told her. He told her everything that was on his mind! And while that included his disapproval of his father’s willingness to welcome the Eliatrope race, said mistrust never extended itself to Lady Amalia.

Just, what was she thinking?!

And he wasn’t the only one shocked by his wife’s reckless actions. While the smirk never left her face, satisfaction rolling off of her in waves, all around them, the members of their court expressed their immense disapproval, murmuring amongst themselves in hushed outrage or flashing disdainful, if not overly obvious, glances Aurora’s way.

The Eliatropes weren’t faring much better, to tell the truth.

Thank the Great Goddess for her mask, or everyone would have seen Nora gaping like a fish at the turn of events taking place right in front of her. Phaeris only narrowed his bright blue eyes and let out a puff of smoke through his nostrils, the mediator in him appalled by the blonde’s utter lack of finesse and sheer disrespect. Qilby was blinking in disbelief, struggling to decide whether he should rub his hands together at the veritable spectacle he knew was yet to come, or try to put more effort into his performance—he had to look as offended on Amalia’s behalf as his siblings, after all.

Even Efrim’s jaw dropped the moment the ill-concealed insult was uttered.

However, no one was as incensed as Yugo. Even though he didn’t fully understand what she meant by that, he was already bristling as soon as it registered in his mind that blue-skinned Shushu was all but stating that Amalia wasn’t a true Divine Doll due to her human-like appearance. But he managed to put a lid on his temper long enough to check on Amalia, his body aching with the need to drape his arms around her and comfort her.

Even through the layer of turquoise energy covering his eyes, even if he couldn’t quite make out her features, he saw red when Amalia hung her head, her bangs falling over her obscured face.

It took everything in Adamaï’s power to restrain his twin and prevent him from doing something he would regret. But his fury didn’t recede until Amalia raised an arm as a silent request to halt in his movements.

There was a shift in the atmosphere. The previous tension was swiftly replaced by an ethereal kind of energy that was both as powerful as it was overwhelming. It seeped deep into your bones and made a home inside of you against your will, invigorating as well as humbling you. It was as comforting as it was oppressive.

When Amalia raised her head, something in her had changed. Her features, other times soft and delicate, became sharper. Her posture, not long ago burdened by the weight of Aurora’s blatant disrespect, was suddenly both looser and more confident than Yugo had ever seen. And her eyes, usually two pools of deep brown filled with stars and child-like wonder, were cold and unforgiving as they stared unflinchingly at the woman in front of her.

For the first time since they arrived at the throne room, Aurora’s perfect mask cracked, a flicker of fear shining behind her eyes.

Amalia smirked. Good.

“You’re right, Aurora.” Amalia finally said, her voice sweet as the honey used to lure poor, unsuspecting moskitos into a fatal trap. “Sadida did improve his craftsmanship over the centuries, and I happen to be his masterpiece. My human body is proof enough of that.” If possible, her smile became even sharper, like a Sram’s blade ready for the kill. “But, as you said, Divine Dolls are known for their appearance, and I am no exception. Here, allow me to show you.”

Instinctively, Yugo and his siblings braced themselves for either a puff of smoke or a hurricane of flower petals. But it never came. Instead, a deep feeling of unease took over them when Amalia’s eyes began to glow an otherworldly green.

Unlike the doll’s usual transformations, the change was gradual yet seamless. Her features morphing in plain sight. And they had a first row seat to everything in real time. The astounded gasps erupting all around them vaguely registered in their minds. They had no way of knowing if the sharp intakes of breath came from the Sadida court or from themselves, after all.

The first thing to transform was her dress.

Yugo could only watch on, mesmerised, as the leaf forming the frontal part of her skirt seemingly retracted itself until it crossed her torso and came to barely reach past her hips. By contrast, while the rear leaf also decreased in size, it still covered her backside, even as it came to only reach up to her shins. And yet, the shifting dress made up for the exposed skin of her legs by transforming her torso. Fluttering down from the leaves and daisy top covering her breasts were two different layers. The first and lower layer was a peach-coloured fabric that wrapped itself around her figure in the shape of an off-shoulder leotard; the second and upper layer, a sheer, orange fabric that cinched at her waist before flaring around her hips like a ruffled skirt, a delightful slit going up her thigh and merging with the leotard underneath.

The next thing to shift were her accessories. Even though her anklets remained the same except for diminishing until they were befitting of their name, her wristbands gradually paled until they were the same hue as white lilies. Starting from the back of her hands, they extended over her arms, becoming eerily reminiscent of the ones she liked to wear alongside her ‘adventuring outfit.’ Then, the headband holding her ponytail in place went through a similar process, its soft maple wood fading until it became birch white. The arch of the headband widened and encompassed her whole emerald-coloured head, with two long leaves growing at each end and making her resemble a Wabbit.

And yet, the most amazing change of all had to be how the horns protruding from her headdress merged with her skin at the same time as the latter darkened, going from soft mahogany to a rich walnut. Not only that, but what appeared to be stitches materialised in strategic places all over her body—her knees, her hips, her arms, her neck… Even her face! Which had the odd side-effect of looking like freckles.

They all had to bite down a yelp when flowers and plants began to spontaneously grow at Amalia’s feet, forcing them to step out of the way best they could.

His focus back on her after repositioning himself, now that Yugo thought about it, those stitches seemed to be located where a regular person’s joints would be…

Whatever the case, he found he couldn’t tear his eyes off her, his heart picking up its pace.

He thought he’d come to know all sides of her. Come to appreciate just how breathtaking she could be. He had had the foolish hope that he would get to look at her one day and not turn into a flustered, mumbling fool at her beauty.

As always, she proved him wrong.

“I hope this,” she gestured at the entirety of her new form, “helps to assuage your worries, Princess.” The smile she flashed at a mortified Aurora was so sharp, it could have drawn blood.

At that moment, his heartbeat didn’t just accelerate. His heart simply stopped.

Aurora’s teal-hued face flushed red, her lips twisting in humiliation as she scrambled to save face. “I never—!”

“That’s enough.”

She barely got two words in before a gravelly voice interrupted her. Red eyes widening in alarm, she whipped her head to face her father-in-law, the usually jovial and accommodating Sadida King now glowering down at her, his eyes dark in barely concealed rage.

For the second time since she arrived at the Sadida Kingdom, a jolt of fear went down her spine. The first time taking place just a few short seconds before, when the newly transformed Divine Doll laid her otherworldly, prideful gaze on her. The third time she felt it was right after, when she foolishly let her eyes wander around the people gathered and she flinched in fright when she locked eyes with the very incensed-looking Eliatrope King glaring daggers at her, murder in his neon blue orbs.

A terrified shudder ran down her spine.

She tried to open her mouth again to speak, to defend herself, but she was left gaping like a fish when King Oakheart silenced her by raising his hand. He looked as if having to maintain eye contact with her made him physically ill.

“Daughter-in-law.” He started, with all the authority only his many years as the head of a kingdom could give him. To an outsider, the use of their familial relationship instead of her title or even her name could be seen as a sign of respect. Anyone who knew the Sadida King on a personal level, however, knew he had no qualms disregarding protocol and proper etiquette in the name of showing his appreciation for the people in his life.

No, his insistence on addressing Aurora as his daughter-in-law was done with the sole intention of marking the existent distance between the two. To express just how cross he was at her for her clearly intentional faux pas.

“If you wish to one day be worthy of becoming Queen of the Sadidas,” another direct hit to her ego; a public reminder that, in his race’s eyes, she was unworthy of her future position within their court. “Then you must first learn and, most importantly, respect our customs, beliefs, and us. There had better be no more incidents such as this one. Do I make myself clear?”

Panic flashing through her eyes at the realisation that she had only succeeded at widening the drift between herself and her father-in-law, Aurora’s eyes flicked to Armand, begging him to intercede in her favour. If anyone could reason with his father to turn his ire towards the outsiders and the usurpers instead of her, that was her husband.

But then Armand did the unthinkable. He yanked his hand away from her touch, his jaw clenched as he averted his eyes from her in clear disapproval. The message was clear: he would not back her up on this one.

“Daughter-in-law, did I make myself clear?” The king repeated, snapping her out of her hurt astonishment.

Face scrunching up in humiliation and offence, she ground out through gritted teeth, “Yes, Father-in-law.” She turned her face away, her bangs falling over her face and obscuring her snarling expression as her eyes were set on the floor.

When she became promised to Armand, she believed it wouldn’t take her long until she gained his father and people’s approval. That hadn’t been the case, however; for she could still feel the Sadida judge her every move even months after the marriage, but she assumed she would be able to turn things around sooner rather than later. It wasn’t long before her husband came to rely nearly exclusively on her for moral and emotional support, after all. It was only a matter of time before she had the Sadida Kingdom eating out of the palm of her hand and her word became law—both literally and figuratively.

After all, that was what she had been raised to do.

Amalia raised a bemused eyebrow at her reaction. She honestly hadn’t been expecting an apology from such a short-sighted yet conceited creature, but she wasn’t expecting to see her shaking in rage and at the verge of throwing a temper tantrum like a child who had just been scolded, either.

She and Yugo exchanged glances then, utterly unimpressed. Even so, the Eliatrope King swiftly looked away not long after, his face flushing in a way that left Amalia completely floored.

Before she could dwell on that much longer, though, she caught King Oakheart moving from the corner of her eyes, forcing her to follow him with her eyes.

“My apologies, Your Grace, for such an unsightly display. I hope you don’t think less of us for it.” His eyes flickered back to the Eliatropes and dragons present. “Nor do you, my friends.”

“Absolutely not, Your Majesty.” Amalia assured him, at the same time as Phaeris took a step forward and said, “There is nothing to forgive.”

The old king beamed, clasping his hands. “Excellent! In that case, if you would permit me, there is one last person I wish for you to meet.” The doll’s whole body buzzed in anticipation when the Sadida ruler gestured and began to make his way over to the Cra woman stationed at the feet of the throne.

“This is Evangelyne.” He announced, coming to stand behind her and clasp both hands over her shoulders in a fatherly fashion. “As you can see, she might be a Cra, but that doesn’t mean she isn’t the most reputed bodyguard in the entirety of my kingdom!”

Placing a hand over her chest, Evangelyne gave them a solemn nod as a means to bow. “Greetings, Lady Amalia and esteemed members of the Eliatrope Council. It is an honour to make your acquaintance.”

As Nora took an appraising glance up and down the Cra’s figure, she couldn’t help but snort at the ridiculousness of a mere bodyguard having better manners than a princess that was supposed to have them instilled in her since her infancy.

Wait…

“Bodyguard?” She flinched when she realised she voiced her question aloud, pink colouring her pale cheeks behind her mask.

Evangelyne nodded once more, seemingly unaffected by the query. “That is right, Lady Nora. I have been serving the Sheran Sharms as their bodyguard for well over a decade now.”

“Impressive! You must be quite a skilled combatant.” Yugo chimed in. Amalia couldn’t help the pang in her chest caused by an ugly feeling at the genuine admiration in his eyes.

But the Cra just dismissed his praise with a shake of her head. “Thank you, Your Majesty, but as I am sure you can imagine, I happen to be a far more skilled archer than hand-to-hand fighter.” She pointedly gestured at her bow and long ears to emphasise her point.

That actually made him laugh. “Yes, I suppose I shouldn’t be too surprised.”

Before the ache in her chest had the chance to grow any stronger or more unbearable, King Oakheart, thankfully, decided that was the best time to move things along.

“Well, now that introductions are done with, how about we finally set todays’ festivities in motion, huh?” He gestured at the Sadida guards stationed all around the throne room. “The party will be held in the ballroom. I understand you might need some time to collect yourselves, so feel free to take as much time as you need to. When you feel ready to join us, just let some of my guards know, and they will gladly escort you to the ballroom.”

He beckoned them to follow him, his subjects stepping away until a corridor was formed as the royal family led their guests outside. With Phaeris picking up the rear, the Sadida court finally gathered together once more to file out of the room, chattering amongst themselves about their excitement over the upcoming celebrations.

“Is there a reason why we can’t just stay behind in the throne room to rest?” Efrim questioned. His sapphire eyes glanced back and forth between the blossoming halls that opened up before them as they left the space through a different hall than the one they entered from, and the fading throne.

“I’m afraid we can’t let outsiders inside unless we are with them, Master Efrim.” Armand explained then, his voice distant yet resolute as he kept his steely eyes forward.

The young dragon narrowed his eyes. So there was something of great value to the Sadida stored away in the throne room…

Eventually, they led them to a modestly large balcony decorated with flowers and an ivy wall, not unlike Amalia’s back at Oma, facing opposite their kingdom. With one last bow and the promise to see each other again soon, the Sheran Sharms and their Cra bodyguard left them to their own devices, not before pointing at the soldiers standing guard near for when the time came to be escorted into the ballroom.

........................................................................................................................

As soon as they were left alone on the balcony, Amalia finally snapped.

“That little weed!”

Her voice got so loud, it sent a few nearby birds flying away from the palace, their frightened squawks trailing after them with each flap of their wings. The Council of Six wasn’t much better in that regard. At the doll’s eardrum-piercing screech, almost as if they were a set of matching mirrors, they all recoiled in tandem, startled.

The enraged Divine Doll paid their pained wincing no mind, though. Her delicate features twisted into a nasty snarl, her pearly white grinding together in aggravation, she began to stomp all over the platform like a caged animal as she rambled her indignation away. Yugo couldn’t help but think to himself it was a most accurate description, as now that she had horns she was eerily reminiscent of a wild beast. Not like he would ever dare tell her that. More plants grew and trailed after her with every step she took, the sheer fabric at her hips ruffling with her movements.

“Just, who does she think she is?!” She questioned no one in particular. Yugo actually tried to offer an answer, but just as he opened his mouth, Amalia went on with her tirade. “How dare she question the legitimacy of my identity as Sadida’s daughter, treating me like a phoney when she’s the outsider trying to rule my people!?

“From the moment I saw her back at Bonta, I knew she was a bad weed; an imperfection sticking out and threatening to ruin my father’s beautiful garden, but this?!” She let out a low, sardonic laugh. “She’s not just a weed, she’s a brat! An entitled, pompous brat who thinks she is immediately better than everybody else just because she was born into royalty. I seriously do wonder how she would have behaved had it been the other way around…”

“The other way around…?” Phaeris made the mistake of asking. A mistake he regretted the moment Amalia set her nearly manic gaze on him.

She whirled around to face him so fast, it was a miracle she didn’t give herself whiplash. “Yes, the other way around! You know, if instead of one of Sadida’s Dolls, one of Osamodas’ children had gone to visit the Osamodas Kingdom and she had dragged Prince Armand to pay his respects. I have no doubt in my mind she would have demanded the utmost respect from him if that were the case.”

The Eliatropes and dragons let a moment pass in silence, exchanging nervous glances, just to make sure Amalia had truly got her frustrations out of her chest. After a minute or two passed by and she said nothing, Yugo was about to interject yet again when—

“And another thing!” They all had to fight back the urge to groan and facepalm as she continued. “How dare she criticise how I look when she’s the one walking around with that shapeless, red cabbage she calls a dress! Seriously, what was she trying to do, ruin Sadida tailoring by making her seamstresses force an Osamodas design into Sadida fashion? Just, what does Prince Armand even see in her?!”

This time, as she was left panting erratically after finally putting a halt to both her pacing and her tirade, it seemed it was truly over. However, a quick look around the vegetation in the palace was enough to realise it was reacting to Amalia’s agitated state, if the way the tendrils going up and down the walls seemed to tighten their hold on the architecture was any indication.

Amalia was so mad she was severely tempted to snatch Princess Aurora with one of her vines and to toss her around like a ragdoll until she gained either a little bit of respect for the kingdom she intended to rule over or a concussion. Whichever happened first.

Her hands balled into fists so tight she could’ve drawn blood, she felt the furious tension on her shoulders immediately melt away with a touch, her fists unclenching with it. She started at the sudden sensation, stowing her vindictive thoughts for later, and glanced down at the hand gently holding her wrist. She didn’t even need to look back up to know it belonged to Yugo, but she did it anyway.

She was immediately rewarded with one of his soft smiles, those that never failed to make her feel better.

“I… I really lost it there for a minute, didn’t I?” She asked bashfully, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

“A little.” Yugo chuckled. “Can’t say you didn’t have a good reason to, but…” He trailed off with a huff.

Adamaï finished his sentence for him. “Even if you have every right to be mad at Princess Aurora for her shamelessness, you should also watch what you say.” The dragon warned her, though his voice lacked any malice. “The Sadida might be on your side, but something tells me she will not hesitate to get Daddy involved if she believes she’s being insulted.”

“Then what is Amalia supposed to do? Ask her Daddy to curse the Osamodas’ crops first?” Qilby snarked, flashing his brother a sarcastic look.

Normally, he wouldn’t care if the Divine Doll was insulted or not, and she did provide him with quite the show when she transformed and proceeded to tear that arrogant dimwit a new one, but even the eldest Eliatrope had to admit the Osamodas princess had it coming. There was no guarantee he would have been as merciful had anybody insulted his divine origins.

The bearded Eliatrope let out a huff when Phaeris pointed out, “While Lady Amalia was in her right to defend herself, she mustn’t forget her more diplomatic role. Initiating a verbal spat with a Twelvian royal could have unfortunate consequences.”

“I know, I know.” The doll groaned as she massaged her temple with the hand that wasn’t currently interlocked with Yugo’s. “She just made me so mad… I’m serious, didn’t Prince Armand have more options when it came to choosing a bride? Why… her?” She pulled a face, her tongue sticking out in barely concealed disgust.

“Most men happen to be extremely simple-minded when it comes to choosing a wife.” Nora interjected with a disgusted roll of her eyes. She had hoisted herself up on the railing and lowered her mask, her feet dangling back and forth in boredom. “A pretty face, sultry eyes, and a good rack, and they all turn into bumbling, drooling fools…” She paused, deep in consideration, and shrugged. “Well, more so than usual, I mean.”

Efrim arched a brow at her. “You have a very low opinion of men for someone who has nine brothers, Sister.”

“That’s precisely why I have such a low opinion of men.”

The aforementioned men all scowled at her, while Amalia tried to stifle down a snicker.

“So you’re saying he just chose her because she’s attractive?” The doll ventured, amused by her theory.

Nora’s grin was sharp and her pink eyes glinted maliciously. “Oh, most definitely.” She nodded in the direction of the door the royal family had disappeared into. “You saw how she acted for a princess. His Royal Prickliness surely didn’t marry her for her tactical skills.”

At that, Amalia finally caved in. She threw her head back and laughed, loud and unrestrained. Soon enough, Nora was snickering too at her own joke, while her siblings either opted for more subdued reactions or simply shook their heads in mild, yet fond, exasperation.

It was Yugo, who also found himself sniggering at the comment, that had to gently shush her just in case the guards were listening and happened to be on Aurora’s corner. He honestly doubted it, but it never hurt to be careful.

“As entertaining as this all is,” Efrim’s voice cut through the merry air like a knife, a touch of derision in his tone. “We should probably ask to be escorted to the ballroom already. Wouldn’t want the Sheran Sharms thinking we’re here to steal their secrets or something.”

“Efrim, don’t start now.” Adamaï chided, annoyed.

All his little brother did in response was shrug. At this rate, they would get kicked out of the palace.

Taking that as his cue, Yugo teleported himself near the closest guard, who almost had a heart attack at the sight of the Eliatrope King materialising out of thin air.

The king grimaced, embarrassed. “Sorry about that… Could you escort us to the ballroom? Lady Amalia, my siblings and I believe it is time we joined the festivities.”

Once his heartbeat had slowed down and his breathing was back to normal, the guard tried to manage a respectful bow with questionable results. “Of course, Your Majesty.” He panted and flicked one finger at the other soldier standing guard a few metres to his left. “Aleafxis, take Lady Amalia and the Eliatrope Council to the ballroom.”

“Yes, sir.”

And so, Aleafxis led them through the palace corridors while his partner tried to recover from a near fatal fright, Yugo’s sheepish apology trailing after him as they advanced.

.................................................................................................................

While the walk through the palace corridors leading to the ballroom was short, now that her anger had subsided somewhat, it gave Amalia time to think.

Adamaï and Phaeris were right. Although she didn’t exactly regret putting that condescending brat in her place, something even the dragons had assured her she could hardly be faulted for, her purposeful humiliation of the queen-to-be in front of the royal court could have unwanted consequences.

Even though she still held hope that King Oakheart and even Prince Armand would come to her defence if that ended up being the case—as she had been insulted in their kingdom; a place that should have felt like home to her—, the doll still resolved to keep her temper in check from now on. For once, it wasn’t just a matter of looking solely after the Eliatropes, she couldn’t bear the thought of causing her father’s worshippers trouble with her vindictiveness.

She guessed it shouldn’t be too difficult as long as Aurora refrained from interacting with her further unless she intended to properly and sincerely apologise. But since the doll had a feeling that would be unlikely from such a self-righteous woman, she figured it would be her bruised ego that kept her from acting foolishly instead.

At least, she prayed to the Leafy God that would be the case.

Revisiting her actions back at the throne room also allowed Amalia to fully register the fact that she had actually shed her human appearance in exchange for her Divine Doll one.

The one form she hadn’t taken since her birth.

Why, she wasn’t quite sure. In all honesty, there really hadn’t been a reason to. After her father created her and taught her everything he believed she should know, and the other gods expressed their approval of her, she was sent straight to the Mortal Realm, looking just as Sadida conceived her: a rag doll.

And then, when Yugo seemed rattled by her appearance when they first met, her first instinct was to change into her human form. Why did she choose that one instead of her current form? In hindsight, it was hard to tell as well. Looking back, adopting her Divine Doll form would have really made it more believable that she was a Sadida demigoddess; although, then again, going from a sapient toy to a young woman also did the trick.

No, the more she thought about it, the more she came to believe it had been a matter of pride. A desire buried deep in her subconscious to prove Ibago wrong and show everyone once and for all that she was indeed Sadida’s masterpiece. Much like what motivated her to humiliate Aurora.

Her beauty and, more importantly, her status as a demigoddess would not be brought into question.

Because, what could be better proof that she was their father’s greatest creation than the fact that she could actually look indistinguishable from a mortal?

Now, though… Now, she couldn’t help but wonder if she was really that much of a masterpiece, after all.

Maybe it was because she had never taken her Divine Doll form before, but for some reason, Amalia didn’t feel quite as comfortable in her own body as she did before. After all, she really did look different from her sisters.

While it was true Sadida’s Dolls all formed a spectrum between doll-like and human-like, with each of them perfectly reflecting their father’s steep learning curve, Amalia still didn’t look anything like them.

True, she wore the same leafy headband that stored the Doll Master’s essence and his divine power, just like her sisters. And her current clothes were actually closer to what Ladysally, Ibago, and even Dathura often wore. And the stitches running up and down her body actually made her resemble them more than ever. But none of them had horns on top of all that! In the name of everything leafy, no actual Sadida had them!

Even if she was always supposed to be special—furthermore, extraordinary—, Amalia couldn’t help but feel like a freak. The fact that the only other horned people she had ever encountered (barring the Eliatrope dragons, of course) were actually the Osamodas Royal Family and their patron god didn’t make her feel any better.

Lost in her own world, she let out a heavy sigh, unaware of the friend that was intently watching her.

A cold claw gripped painfully at Yugo’s heart at the despondency in her sigh. His usually laid-back posture was tense, while his otherwise carefree expression was taut with concern for the woman he loved.

The Eliatrope King couldn’t help but wonder what could have possibly rendered her in such a state. As much as the Osamodas princess’ malicious words had offended her, she had still held her head up high—she had been rightfully angry, not sad! And even before that, Amalia exuded nothing but pure, unbridled joy over being in the Sadida Kingdom, her elation growing with every second they spent in this forest-turned-society.

And yet…

Her warm brown eyes were misty and distant as they looked down, seemingly finding the wooden floor boards immensely more interesting than the world going on around her. Her emerald bangs fell down and through her antlers due to the small inclination of her head, accidentally making her forehead look like a patch of grass growing between two trees. The illusion wasn’t helped by the way those leaves hung from her headband, making her look like a kicked Bow Wow. Even though her feet never stopped taking her to the direction their guide was kindly leading them towards, rather than the purposeful strut or excited skip he was used to seeing from her, her steps were slow and drawn-out as she shuffled after the guard. And the way she hugged herself for comfort, her fingers mindlessly fidgeting with her new stitches, her shoulders rigid…

It was enough to make his heart sink in sympathy for her.

“You’re staring.”

He almost pouted.

Leave it to Ad to notice his moods and assault his mind with unwanted conversation. He loved his twin brother to death, but one day, the lack of proper privacy their psychic bond provided them with was going to be the death of him.

“Not like it matters. I don’t think she’s noticed.” Yugo shot back.

He could hear Adamaï hum in thought, clearly considering his answer. “That much is obvious.” He grimaced, quickly scanning Amalia from the corner of his eye. “Do you think this is because of the Osamodas Princess?”

Yugo started at his suggestion. “What? Why would that affect her?”

“I don’t know. Maybe she’s chastising herself for lashing out at her. Maybe she’s worried her actions have caused trouble for us.”

The Emerald Eliatrope shook his head. “No, I don’t really think that’s it. Besides, Amalia didn’t so much as ‘lash out’ as she put her in her place. And you saw King Oakheart and Prince Armand; they were just as offended as Amalia for what the princess said. I’d say they’re firmly on her corner.”

It only made sense that the Sheran Sharms would defend Amalia. She was their god’s daughter, after all.

“Then what do you think it’s on her mind?” Ad pressed, and Yugo frowned deeper, at a loss for answers himself.

“I don’t know…” He trailed off, but it wasn’t enough to extinguish the fire in his eyes. “But I’m going to find out.” However, just as he was about to break Amalia out of her thoughts, his lips already parted, his dragon twin intervened, subtly wrapping his tail around his ankle to avoid making the action too obvious.

“Do you really think now’s the best time? While a random guard—”

“His name is Aleafxis.”

“—while Aleafxis is present, as are our siblings? Don’t you think it would be better to bring up what might possibly be a delicate subject in a more private setting? Instead of, you know, springing it up on her in the middle of the hall, surrounded by prying eyes and ears?”

Yugo considered his words for a moment, his gaze flickering from Aleafxis’ back to Amalia and around their siblings. His mind made up, he nodded at his brother.

“You’re right. I’d better bring this up once we’re in the ballroom.”

The dragon could only gape in disbelief, “...You mean the ballroom that’s going to be filled with people dying to talk to her? That’s your definition of ‘private’?”

“Have you forgotten the banquet at Bonta?” The Eliatrope countered. “After dinner and some compulsory conversation amongst ourselves, everyone sort of just started to mingle. Trust me, after a while, they will all be so caught up in themselves, they’ll be too busy to even think about bothering us.”

“Touché.”

Yugo and Adamaï were so engrossed in their conversation, as was Amalia in her own little world, the three of them collided one on top of the other when Aleafxis abruptly halted in front of another grandiose, leaf-shaped gate. While Nora and Qilby laughed at their misfortune, Efrim and Phaeris simply rolled their eyes. Turning back around to face them, the guard offered their guests the same polite bow his superior had been trying to while he recovered from his near encounter with death.

“Ladies and gentlemen, we have arrived.” He announced, and with a few rhythmic thumps of his cane that weren’t all that different from when Glip was trying to capture his students’ attention, the doors opened up behind him, bathing their visitors with the golden light coming from inside.

......................................................................................................................

While it should have come as no surprise that the ballroom would end up being even larger than the throne room due to all the people it was supposed to house, the sight of Sadida men and women of high and lower birth alike still took them all aback. There, seamlessly incorporated into the Sadida court, stood many of the kingdom’s subjects, waiting impatiently for their arrival as they nursed glasses of wine and that ‘bamboo milk’ the Pandawa Queen wouldn’t shut up about. Except for the children, of course.

At first, they didn’t seem to have taken notice of their presence, far too engrossed in conversation amongst themselves. Again, both nobles and civilians mingled with each other, the sound of light and easy conversation, most of it small talk, filling the air.

A part of Yugo couldn’t help but wish they’d remain like that. With a little luck, he might be able to broach the subject of whatever seemed to be bothering Amalia sooner than he expected.

Clearly, he wasn’t an Ecaflip, because luck was just not on his side.

It was like a chain reaction. The second the first Sadida noticed their presence and quieted down, the eyes of all other guests present were drawn to them. Little by little, their pleasant conversations trailed off into oblivion, their expressions practically set in stone as they studied their guests of honour in silent awe.

He stiffened and cursed to himself. It didn’t take a genius to understand his chances of speaking with Amalia had just gone up in smoke.

He didn’t know if he should feel despondent or relieved when all those eyes on her seemed to snap the Divine Doll out of her trance. Watching her straighten up and plaster a (decidedly fake) warm smile on her face, he had to bite down a sigh and let himself be escorted further into the room with the others, with Amalia in the lead.

Right. This was as important to her as it was to the Eliatrope people. She couldn’t afford to seem troubled now.

They barely made it halfway through the room when King Sheran Sharm stood up from his chair, presiding over everyone gathered, and reached them in a few purposeful strides. As per usual for the welcoming monarch, his meaty arms were opened wide.

“There you are! We were starting to think you had stood us up.” The king joked, throwing his bushy head back and letting out a raucous cackle.

“Wouldn’t dream of it, Your Majesty.” Amalia inclined her head slightly. “We were just… Resting for the upcoming celebration, that’s all.”

Yugo had to admit he was surprised at how easily she came up with that excuse on the fly. Technically, it wasn’t a lie. That was exactly why King Oakheart had led them to that balcony in the first place after their tense introduction. But between hearing Amalia rant on and on about his daughter-in-law’s audacity and debating whether humiliating her in retaliation had been a good call or not, resting was the last thing they did.

His easy smile grew tight, strained, when the sound of Qilby’s snickering at the doll’s explanation reached his ears. But it relaxed back into a grin when someone, Phaeris or Nora, most likely, shut him up with a disapproving nudge. Not for the first time that day, he found himself wishing Shinonomé had come in her twin’s place. At least she knew how to conduct herself in public.

A startled puff of air left his throat when the Sadida King cheerfully clapped him on the back, the action accidentally sent him tumbling forward. Meanwhile, Amalia squealed in surprise when he suddenly, albeit much more gently, placed his other hand on her shoulders. He barely had the time to glower in Adamaï’s direction when he started to snigger at his misfortune when their host did the same to his dragon twin.

“Vindication.” He mentally sang.

“Shut up.” Ad grumbled from his awkward position hunched forward.

But Yugo wouldn’t have been able to wipe the pleased smirk off his face even if he wanted to.

“Sweet Sadida!” King Oakheart exclaimed, looking contrite. The rest of their siblings were smart enough to take advantage of his distraction and sidestep him. “Master Adamaï, are you all right?”

“I’m fine, Your Majesty.” He mumbled before raising to his full height again and making a show of dusting himself off. “It takes a lot more than that to bring an Eliatrope dragon down.”

“Oh, I don’t doubt it.” The king grinned. Then, he turned his attention back to Amalia. “I sincerely hope you feel well-rested, my Lady, because there is something I would like to request from you.”

That piqued her interest. “Really? What is it?”

“We were wondering if you would be interested in leading us in the Petals Dance.” He gestured at his starry-eyed subjects, all awaiting her answer in nervous anticipation. “It’s the first time my people have had the chance of having one of Sadida’s daughters partake in the dance with us. As I am sure you can imagine, it would be a great honour to us.”

He had her at ‘Petals Dance’. Her whole expression lit up in glee, she couldn’t keep herself from squealing in delight. “Oh, I would love to!” Then, she seemed to realise something, and her expression sobered. “But… What about my companions? I don’t wish to leave them alone in unfamiliar territory.”

Before either king present could try to reassure her, Nora stepped in, throwing a conspiratorial arm around her shoulder in camaraderie and leaning closer to the doll with a smirk. “Don’t worry about us, Amalia. We can always just mingle with the locals.”

“It would be a great opportunity to learn more about the Sadida and their culture.” Phaeris agreed. His arms were crossed, but a small smile tugged at the corner of his lips.

“For once we agree, Dear Brother.” The Ochre Dragon’s smile vanished as soon as Qilby flashed him a toothy, and far too innocent, grin. “You know I can’t resist knowledge’s calling.” He turned to Amalia, adjusting his glasses. “Trust me, Lady Amalia. I’m far better suited to be a wallflower than a dancer.”

“Language.” Both the doll and the king scolded him lightly.

Qilby balked, confused for once.

“You can also indulge yourselves in the many Sadida specialties we have spread out for the occasion.” Prince Armand’s voice startled them all. The heir had crossed the ballroom without anyone noticing and was now standing beside his father, his posture as regal as usual. “You must be famished by now.”

“You don’t have to tell me twice.” Efrim commented, his voice hollow as he shrugged and became the first to break formation in his search for the nearest table serving refreshments.

After he clocked in on one located to the far right of the room, sapphire eyes briefly met bark brown. The periwinkle dragon and the Sadida prince exchanged disdainful glances for a fraction of a second before he disappeared into the crowd.

But Amalia wasn’t paying attention to their charged interaction. Instead, her eyes, big and doe-like, were on Yugo. She delicately grazed his wrist with her fingertips, feeling an electric jolt run down her spine at the contact. The Eliatrope King must have felt it too, because she saw him fight down a shiver.

“What about you?” She asked, her voice tender and understanding. “I know there’s a lot on the line, so I could always just help you first and then join the next dance.”

The Emerald Eliatrope gaped at her for a second. A fond smile forming on his lips, he slowly shook his head no. “Amalia, there’s no need for that. Ad and I can manage just fine.” He searched his brother’s eyes, who nodded empathetically to show his support. “You should go have fun, too. You’re the guest of honour, remember?” He knew she loved to dance, and the fact that she had been invited by the king to join them in this particular dance, which also happened to have a name, meant it was probably important.

“Are you sure?” She tried again, only for her breath to catch in her throat when he joined his hands together and gave hers a tight squeeze.

There it was that feeling again, hammering away at her chest and sending her knees buckling…

“Absolutely.” He told her honestly.

Willing her cheeks to cool off, mortified at the mere thought of her stitches highlighting her blush somehow, she sent her dear friend a grateful smile. She instantly missed his warmth when she had to let go of his hand to face King Oakheart again.

“Lead the way, Your Majesty.”

The kindly king smiled knowingly down at them, and butterflies erupted in her belly as she flushed for reasons beyond her. After a moment that stretched just an eternity too long, the Sadida ruler finally extended his arm and beckoned the Divine Doll to follow him. “After you, my Lady.”

With Amalia following after the king, vegetation still growing in her wake, the remaining members of the Council of Six dispersed. Qilby was the first to excuse himself. He wasn’t lying when he said he was a wallflower; he’d much rather converse with the other guests and find more about their customs, his anthropologist side shining through. Phaeris followed his example, although he took off in a completely different direction. Those two could only stand being around each other for so long, and today’s events had already depleted their tolerance for each other for about a month.

Their king paid them no mind. While Qilby could be too unpredictable for his own good, he knew Phaeris would still keep an eye on him even from the other side of the room. And Efrim’s transformation into an asocial hermit meant he was most likely to avoid human interaction and, hence, should not be a problem.

“Well, guess that leaves us three, you guys.” He turned to look at Adamaï and Nora, only for him to do a double take when his little sister was nowhere to be found. “What the…?”

Adamaï tapped him on his shoulder, an unimpressed look in his eye, but before he could question him about it, the dragon just pointed matter-of-factly at somewhere in the distance. Following his extended claw, Yugo felt the overwhelming urge to facepalm, his shoulders shagging in tired disbelief.

Leave it to Nora to ditch her siblings as soon as she got the chance to chat up some pretty ladies that caught her pink eye. While the group of Sadida women seemed a little taken aback by her brazenness, it wasn’t long before one of them began to giggle uncontrollably, falling for her flirtations.

The Emerald Twins just shared a resigned look and let out heavy sighs.

“So… Where to, Lil’ Bro?”

“I don’t think it matters at this point, Ad.”

And so, they made their way around the ballroom until they blended in with the rest of the attendants. After a minute or two of exchanging pleasantries and idle conversation, a pair of Sadida men caught their attention. To say the twins had been rendered speechless by their presence would be an understatement, but they still plastered smiles on their faces and tried to be as polite as possible. Now, the men before them didn’t seem to be bad people by any means—their wakfu vision had confirmed as much—, but they were the most extravagant people they had ever met in any of their lifetimes. Probably.

The snickering, gossiping duo that had joined their little circle really stood out amongst the crowd. Appearance-wise, they were opposites in every way. One of them was tall and lanky, with big, pierced moog-like ears, and wearing little more than a loincloth, leafy boots, and a gobball scarf around his neck. For some reason, he seemed to find wearing a cauliflower as a headdress to be a bold fashion statement. It certainly was bold, but it had nothing to do with how fashionable it was.

On the other hand, his companion was short and stocky, and while he covered himself more than his friend by virtue of actually wearing a leafy top and skirt, his rotund belly still peeked through the garment. Unlike the man next to him, his ears weren’t pierced, and he seemed to favour using bushes as headwear. Another questionable choice.

Now, in terms of personality, they were two peas in a pod.

“King Yugo, Master Adamaï, allow me to just say that you couldn’t have arrived at a better time!” The tall one said.

Then, his shorter companion gushed, “Oh, absolutely! The Petals Dance is such a magical moment… And to think we’ll get to watch Lady Amalia perform!” He began to fan himself with his hand. “I don’t know if I’ll be able to survive all this excitement!”

“You’ll love it, I’m sure.” The first one finished.

Yugo offered them a polite smile, although he couldn't deny he was amused by their antics. “I’m sure we will, Misters…?”

“Oh, wherever are our manners?!” The short one exclaimed in dismay. Just as quickly, his expression morphed into irritation as he glared at his friend. “Told you we couldn’t just barge in on their conversation like that!”

“I suppose you mean I told you we couldn't just barge in on their conversation like that, you cheap lettuce!”

The most unholy gasp Yugo and Adamaï ever heard in their long lives escaped the other man’s throat at the… Insult?

“How dare you, you weed!?”

Yep. Definitely an insult.

Even though Yugo was ready to defuse the situation peacefully, Adamaï, for all his logical thinking and cautious planning, had never been one to put up with nonsense. His deep, throaty voice raising over the escalating shouting match, he finally got the other two to shut up. “Gentlemen, gentlemen!” He tried again more gently when he finally had their attention. “Your names, please?”

Just like that, they were back to their giggling, flighty selves.

“Oh, right. How unsightly of us!”

“Yes, yes, of course.”

“We’re Renate and Canar! We’re the stewards to the royal family!” They explained in unison.

After watching them bicker over the silliest thing, Yugo didn’t have the heart to tell them he still didn’t know which one was which. Adamaï just couldn’t be bothered to care.

“Stewards, huh?” He asked instead. “So you assist the royal family?”

“Precisely, Your Majesty. We especially have a hand in helping them decide what to wear for every occasion.”

“We do a little bit of everything, but we especially enjoy acting, as we like to say, as their ‘fashion advisors’.”

The words were out of Adamaï’s mouth before he could think them through. “Oh, so you’re also responsible for dressing Princess Aurora.”

He froze, realising what he just said. He began to sweat as his twin gaped at him. Not without reason, seeing as he had just warned Amalia against humiliating the Osamodas Princess yet, here he was, talking about her fashion sense right in front of her servants.

Unfortunately (or fortunately?), Renate and Canar seemed offended, but for completely different reasons.

They both pulled a face, their noses scrunched up in disgust. “Ugh, Sadida help us, no! We have nothing to do with that walking fashion disaster.”

“Yeah, the princess insists on choosing her outfits herself and, full disclosure, that’s easy to see.” He shuddered. “I mean, we would never let her walk around in those fallen, dead leaves she calls an outfit, thank you very much.” He sniffed derisively.

Huh. The twins couldn’t help but blink in surprise. It seemed the future queen wasn’t very popular amongst her would-be subjects. Especially if Canar and Renate were willing to openly criticise her in a crowded room. They threw discreet glances over their shoulders towards where the princess was, next to the seat her father-in-law had previously occupied. She was just… standing there, rigid as a statue and her red eyes dull with boredom, not even bothering to partake in the celebrations or even talk to anyone.

Still, Yugo didn’t want to cause trouble, so he tried to redirect the conversation back to its original topic. “So… Canar, Renate.” The two immediately perked up. “What were you saying about the Petals Dance?”

“Oh, words just don’t do it justice, King Yugo!” Canar (or was it Renate?) flailed his hands around.

“Indeed.” Renate (Canar?) readily agreed. “Besides, why waste your precious time with pointless explanations, when you can always watch for yourself?” He pointed at the centre of the room.

Yugo and Adamaï turned their gaze to where he was pointing at. As if on cue, the lights inside the ballroom dimmed until only the very centre was illuminated. The spotlight on them, forming a line, were a group of Sadida people walking solemnly, their heads down and their hands resting in front of their bodies. Amalia herself led the procession. One by one, they all broke formation, each of them coming to position themselves all over the make-shift circle that was created when the spectators parted away to make room for them. Amalia stood at the very centre, her body positioned into a slight bow, one foot in front of the other, her muscles taut yet ready to spring back to life at the slightest indication.

After a few suspenseful moments, there was a shift in the ambient music, becoming much more focused and poignant than before, when it only served as background noise. And the show began.

Amalia snapped her eyes open. Her depthless browns became fierce, intense, focused. Her body reacting to the beat, she gracefully rose from her position with one an elegant jump and landed on her tippy toes. As she began to flail her arms around very deliberately, as if she were mindlessly drawing shapes in the water of a lake, all the Sadida around her copied her movements. One by one, they all leapt from their resting positions and straightened their backs. The image of flowers sprouting in spring suddenly materialised in the Eliatrope King’s mind.

The music changed to a staccato, and Amalia reacted to it. Her every action became brief but charged with energy, like pulses vibrating all around them. And then, she moved. As soon as the melody began to follow its original rhythm again, the Divine Doll stepped forward, her steps evolving until there was only mere millimetres separating her soles from the wooden boards. Imperceptible as the change was, it was all she needed to seamlessly spin on herself, the fabric around her waist flaring around her figure with every turn.

She moved all over the space she had inside the circle. She would fall to her knees and let herself slide over the floor for a short distance before leaping right back up. Her body undulating hypnotically as she used her limbs to mark the tempo of the song. Most breathtakingly, her constant movements would rattle the flowers growing underneath her feet, sending a veritable hurricane of petals flying that bathed the entire ballroom in soft pink hues.

But even amidst the petals, Yugo’s eyes were permanently locked on her. Everybody else simply ceased to exist as he desperately followed her every movement. The way the leaves hanging from her headband swayed to the music, her long emerald mane whipping behind her, with not even the tight ponytail holding onto it being able to restrain its movements…

It was simply magical.

Yugo knew Amalia loved to dance, but he had only ever danced with her. Rather simple things like guiding her across the dancefloor. He had never seen the doll dance on her own, and now he was seriously considering forsaking dancing with her altogether if it meant he would be privy to more spectacles such as this one.

He found himself grumbling in displeasure when one of the Sadida accompanying Amalia got in the way of the king’s enraptured view of her. The unwelcomed action forced him to acknowledge the rest of the dancers, however. All around her, Sadida men and women followed a less elaborate routine, simply spinning on themselves as they failed their arms around, all with admirable grace, truth be told. Likewise, their part of the dance included yet another unique complication—they didn’t just have to spin on themselves, but they had to move clockwise and take their partner’s place, thus creating the illusion of an ever rotating circle.

Yugo was so mesmerised by what he saw, that he almost jumped right out of his skin when Qilby slid up next to him and Adamaï without so much as a warning.

“I must admit, it’s better than I expected.” He commented airily.

“Wait,” Adamaï said, “you knew about the Petals Dance?”

The Crimson Eliatrope shrugged noncommittally. “I found out about it at the same time as you.”

“Then how could you have been expecting anything?” Yugo pressed, but when his brother flashed him an ‘are you serious’ look, he already knew the answer. Not like Qilby could ever resist the sound of his own voice.

“Have you already forgotten I came here to learn more about Sadida culture, dear Yugo?” Adjusting his glasses, he turned his hazel eyes back to the scene unfolding in front of them. “As soon as King Oakheart mentioned it, I asked around.” He hummed in thought, clearly pleased with himself. “I must say, it is all quite fascinating, indeed.”

Adamaï was losing his patience. “So…? Are you going to tell us, or are we just supposed to guess?”

Qilby hummed again, pretending to think. “That depends. What’s the magic word?”

“Fratricide.”

“Geez, no. How barbaric.” He complained, before flashing the dragon a pointed yet irritated look. “And utterly pointless. You should know by now that we Primordial Eliatropes and Dragons don’t die that easily, Adamaï.”

“Don’t remind me…” He grumbled.

“Qilby, are you going to tell us what you’ve found out or not?” Yugo snapped. He just wanted for his brother to get his fifteen minutes of fame and for this to be over with so he could go back to watching Amalia in peace. Judging by the awed reactions coming from the rest of the party guests, she just did something astounding and he had missed it.

“My, touchy, aren’t we?” The bespectacled tsked his tongue but relented nonetheless. His palms up in surrender. “But fine, I’ll tell you. According to the Sadida, dancing holds a lot of cultural meaning for them. So much so, it is not just a recreational activity, even if dancing is one of their preferred ways to pass the time, but it is treated as a ritual in itself.”

“Did they explain why?” Adamaï asked, his curiosity piqued.

His older brother nodded. “Yes, apparently, Sadida himself is well-known for his passion for dance. Rumour has it, he can be seen on spring nights when the moon is full, dancing on the ridges. His people follow in his footsteps to honour him.”

“Is that true?” Yugo breathed out. He turned his focus back on the dance taking place in front of him, seeing it under a new light.

“Oh, absolutely, Your Majesty.” He started at the voice of the rotund steward. He had honestly forgotten they weren’t technically alone.

His lanky friend continued. “In fact, one of Sadida’s epithets is ‘Dances on Wind’ precisely because of his love for it.”

“Dancing isn’t just a way to honour him or pass the time, King Yugo. We also hope to be blessed by the Leafy God, as have the many people who have danced alongside him over the centuries.”

“That is why we learn how to dance from a very tender age. It is our duty and our privilege as his followers.”

“It’s a Sadida thing.”

Suddenly, eyes widening as they searched for Amalia, her words from back when he told her about Sacred Dance Day made perfect sense. That’s what she meant back then! Amalia loved to dance because it was deeply ingrained in her people’s customs. As Sadida’s daughter, all the more reason to have a fondness for it!

Eliatrope above, she would never cease to amaze him, would she?

While they were busy talking, they missed the sudden shift in the air. Without their noticing, the music became much more animated, prompting the dancers to follow its lead. The Sadida twirled and turned, breaking the circle they formed to join Amalia in the very centre of the formation before spreading out with bombastic steps and poses.

The Eliatrope Council could only look around in confusion when they noticed everyone’s unexpected eagerness. The air around them buzzed with excitement and anticipation, something important was clearly meant to happen, but they had no idea what. Even a questioning look at Qilby yielded no results; he just shrugged, at as much of a loss as they were for once.

And then, it happened.

The dancers moved forward and with purpose, snatching an excited and willing spectator’s hands and pulling them towards them as they began to lead their partners in a much more intimate dance. In the blink of an eye, what originally seemed to be a simple round dance became proper ballroom dancing. Newly, spontaneously formed matches swaying charmingly to the music.

Amalia observed the change around her. Looking over her shoulder at a certain someone who had yet to notice her impish stare, she decided to be a little bold. She smirked. In a few elegant strides that never broke pace with the beat, she reached for an unsuspecting Yugo’s hands and, grinning widely at his dishevelled state, tugged him towards her.

Their chests were pressed together as the Eliatrope King regained his bearings and tried to understand what just happened. But the Divine Doll didn’t feel like her shortness of breath was caused by all the vigorous dancing she partook in. Maybe it was the exhilarating sensation she got from feeling Yugo’s heartbeat right next to hers, but something told her it was their close proximity that caused her breath to hitch.

It took him a moment, but as soon as Yugo realised what was going on, the way he beamed down at the doll became almost blinding. Amalia could feel herself melt when she caught a glimpse of his fangs sticking out. There was something about them that she just found endlessly enchanting and endearing.

And so, with matching grins and flushed faces, the two of them began their own dance. One hand holding hers while the other rested on her waist and she held onto his shoulder, Yugo began to lead her into a gentle sway around the dancefloor. He sheepishly apologised once or twice over clearly not being as good a dancer as the other men present, but she waved it off each time, assuring him with a tender smile that there was no one else she would rather dance with.

Slowly, almost without their permission, they both eased into each other, any expectations from the night gone as they relaxed into an embrace. Amalia’s hands were both resting against Yugo’s chest, her head nestled in the crook of his neck as they twirled in place over and over again, while Yugo’s found their way around her waist, his cheek resting against her head.

She looked up just as he looked down, a mysterious force pulling them closer to each other…

Just as Amalia closed her eyes, waiting for something but not knowing what, a rough collision made her jerk away. She blinked a few times, disoriented, only for her confusion to grow when she watched as Yugo nursed his aching forehead.

Realisation hit her like an Enutrof’s drill, mortification blossoming from deep within like a thorny bush. Yugo had bumped into her horns.

Flushing pink from embarrassment, the doll immediately tried to step closer to make sure he was okay, but before she had the chance, the sound of someone clearing their throat interrupted them.

Eliatrope King and Divine Doll turned their heads around just in time to see Prince Armand standing stoically in front of them. An arched eyebrow the only thing betraying his scepticism. He didn’t give them the chance to get a word in, “Lady Amalia, my father wishes to speak with you. If you would be so kind…”

Amalia felt a tinge of irritation spike up inside her at the interruption, but she pushed it back down, full of shame. King Oakheart had been nothing but courteous and kind from the beginning, and all he asked in return was for a little of her time. She couldn’t, in good conscience, refuse him now.

Still, she sent one last worried look at Yugo. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“I’ll be fine. Go, can’t keep His Majesty waiting, right?” He smiled through the pain. Was it from the hit or from watching her go, he wasn’t so sure.

An affectionate smile spread across her face, grateful for his understanding nature. With a quick promise that she’d be back as soon as possible, she turned back to the Sadida heir and asked him to take her to his father.

Prince Armand wordlessly did as he was told. But even as she was taken to see King Sheran Sharm, Amalia couldn’t help but look sadly over her shoulder, already missing her dear friend.

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randomizer971 · 5 months ago

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Wakfu The Great Wave - Chapter 12

Hic sunt dracones...

... and beware of spoilers, amphibians, Trypophobia and overuse of gif.

Me, watching some NPC blame Yugo & his people for the "sins of the Mother" for the nth time :

Grougalorasalar is so out of line in this chapter! Even that luscious hair and those defined abs don't blind me to his faults!

The audacity of Rasalar to imply those artefacts don't belong to Yugo, Adamaï and co. I'll admit that the Eliasphere and Eliacube are from the Mechasms (stolen, given, rented or whatever the current canon says) but the DOFUS ?! The Dofus Eliatropes are literally those kids' spawn points ! What are they supposed to do when their siblings are still incubating?

Here's your daily reminder that Yugo is living his best Explicit Married Life with his baby siblings stuck on his chest and at least two of them will remember all they could perceive from their Dofus once they're out... but who's judging?

Rasalar has no mercy. Everyone is catching strays today! Let Qilby rest in peace, he's back in his Dofus now. That reptile is so rude! Did he even know any other Dofus Eliatrope to talk about this family like that? I would have loved to see a verbal battle between Qilby and Rasalar. The sass would have been 📈📈

My, this dragon really said "I hate you and your entire bloodline" in 10k words or more. He had been preparing his diss track since Ogrest spat out his Dofus. You know Mewing Lizard was just waiting for Yugo to grow up just to trash him without being accused of bullying kids. Bro had so much resentment toward Yugo and the eliatropes, you'd think he'd taken lessons from Oropo, the poster boy for daddy issues. Is it Rasalar's Euphoria era or something? Was his name Lamar all along ?

In all fairness, it makes sense for a Twelvian to be so against the eliatropes being on the planet. These artefacts and some Eliatropes caused chaos all over the World of Twelve for centuries. Yugo's edgy alter ego had some involvement in Ogrest's Chaos and Nox's vain project to use the Eliacube. Then, there was the whole mess with the necromes and now, it's almost confirmed that Goddess Eliatrope had a hand in the death(?) of all the Twelvian gods. Not that they were much involved to begin with, apart from creating half-gods. How very Olympian of them!

I might get hate for this but, the Twelvian rulers were right to demand the Eliatropes and all their inventions leave the World of Twelve (Seasons 2 and 4).

The monarchs had more to lose keeping the Eliatropes on the planet. Ignoring the more peculiar concerns like where to put all those kids (back when there were thousands of them in S2), who would pay for all this and such, national security would have been the top argument to kick the Eliatropes out. The Twelvian Council had "proof" that the Eliatropes were a threat to the local population, and that was without knowing Oropo's origins and his involvement in Ogrest's Chaos. As rulers, they are accountable for the lives of thousands (current and future generations). Their duty would call for those rulers to deal with the problem asap. Because, if they didn't, the population would be sure to remind them of said duty (riots, vigilantism, civil unrest, coup...).

Apart from late King Oakheart, the monarchs had no deep involvement with the Eliatropes, no positive interaction not tainted by a bad first impression. All they knew was that their respective kingdoms were put in danger because some "wakfu-powered alien children" and their "long-lost, overbearing, self-righteous and possibly unstable" Goddess Mother had decided to crash-land there and open the door to the Necrome menace.

Since the Eliatropes cannot leave the planet without draining it of Wakfu (Season 2, Qilby), keeping the artefacts out of reach from both the Eliatropes themselves and the Twelvians would be the next best thing. It seems Rasalar might be justifying his actions with this thought.

HOWEVER, I disagree with the idea of giving away the Eliatrope collectables to Rasalar. So far, no one has proven worthy of properly using the Elia-artefacts or even keeping them safe.

On one hand, the Twelvians are easily manipulated or tempted into misusing any powerful artefact like they already did with the Primordial Dofus, the Eliacube or Shushu weapons (e.g. Nox, Ogrest, Toross on his planet, Pinpin and other Shushu Guardians). The Primordial Dragons and their Guardians would lose these items, like they often do with their own Dofus (Grougalorasalar & his siblings). Master Joris helped in hiding those treasures away (OAVs) but failed because of Oropo's brotherhood. Regardless, he is currently the ambassador of Bonta, whose queen dislikes Eliatropes. What would he do, should the Bonta queen and queen consort command him to hand over the items?

On the other hand, the Eliatropes, the rightful owners of most if not all these Eliatrope collectables, don't have the cleanest track record either. Qilby is out of commission for some time, but nothing says for sure he won't try to use the Eliacube again, even with his last-minute "redeeming arc". With some Eliatropes living among a population with mixed opinions about them, who is to say one of the Eliatropes won't turn into the next Qilby, Oropo or Bouillon in a few years or in a few generations?

Adamai seems to have good decision-making skills but most of it lies with his fear - fear of losing control, of making the wrong decision. He is so unsure that he'd rather not act because he also fears what Yugo would do with the powerful items (e.g. OAVs and Season 3).

Yugo is...Yugo. He has matured a lot since Season 1, but, he mostly thinks with his heart. From this, he would act on what he believes is right, while pushing aside the very real and often negative consequences of his choices and actions. He is a brave warrior and overall a kind person...but his very dichotomic view on right and wrong could make him a questionable ruler when political acumen is preferred over sheer might.

Right now, Yugo is still reeling from his confrontation with Oropo and the fight against the Necromes. With the tasks of caring for two kingdoms, maybe we'll see him make those hard decisions. However, as he is now, I cannot imagine Yugo not using the Eliasphere & Eliacube to try and "be a hero", if push comes to shove. The webtoon made that PG-13 plot armour disappear, opening the door to not only some Yumalia fun but potentially to explicit death and gore. This means that, in the webtoon, Yugo with his current mindset could try to "save everyone" only to fail miserably.

Yet, the webtoon has just begun. There is still time for some kind of evolution for his character development. Although, given the title "The Great Wave" and the state of the world in Waven, I'm not holding my breath.

As long as he doesn't end up alone on a planet destroyed by his own hubris, Yugo is good to go!

What I don't understand is…why now? It's been months (?) since the Battle against the necromes. Why does Rasalar want to talk, scheme and let out his grievances now that everything is relatively quiet? Is it because it took time to reunite all the Primordial Dofus? Was he spying on Yugo and the others to gauge their strength before attacking? Was he on his training arc to master the Primordial Dofus before confronting the Eliatrope twins?

Rasalar demanding those Eliatrope limited edition items be like

The audacity of this walking crocodile bag! Who does he think he is ? I know Spicy Lizard didn't just demand those sacred Elia-McGuffins! I know the genius who lost his Dofus, not once but twice, didn't just ask the Eliatrope artefacts and even added a tight deadline and a menacing debt collector (goth queen Julith 🖤).

That guy?! Who would give anything so dangerous to the very dragon who couldn't keep his Dofus safe from fusing with a baby (Maître Joris) and later could only watch as a crying toddler (Ogrest) gobbled the egg down? Be for real !

And now Rasalar is threatening people ?! This guy needs to disappear TODAY ! I'm saying this as a totally unbiased person who has no favourite at all. If this dried-up reptile hurts my beloved child Amalia or little Grougal and Chibi !

One too many people have been talking big just because they got some Kinder eggs stuck on their back !

How are they so loud, when they look like this?!

Tell me this is not what dark!Adamaï, Toross and Rasalar looked like? Embarrassing!

On a side note, Rasalar sacrificed all these villagers to revive The Butcher of Brakmar only to use her as his Uber driver?

Heretic!

Anyway, as usual, the art is fantastic and the pace is great. All those cameos from the animated seasons, making me all teary-eyed and stuff. My boy Nox ! 😭😭😭

I'm looking forward to this new wave of drama! Hopefully, more character development will come for the non-Iop cast. 😒

*End of my rambling*

#wakfu spoilers #wakfu the great wave #wakfu webtoon #wakfu la grande vague #wakfu yugo #wakfu #my review?

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darklydeliciousdesires · 2 months ago

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Sanctuary - Chapter Five.

Are you ready for Lucas as a free man? Because here he comes! :)

Summary - It was a crime that shook the metal community and beyond to its core, the Solna Satanic murder case blowing apart the lives of many. With Lucas and Nils - frontman and drummer of popular metal band The Hanged - trialed, found guilty and subsequently sentenced, few were inclined to believe either deserved any offerings of a second chance. Lucas, in particular, did not consider himself worthy until salvation came in the form of a letter.

Words - 4,070

Previous Chapters - One Two Three Four

Warnings - 18+ content, mentions of violence. Of course, it'll be smutty too, eventually! Minors DNI!

She’d set her alarm for six, but had been awake since 5am, much too excited to sleep. Doing a quick bodyweight exercise workout (a little of Lucas’s influence rubbing off on here there) she took a long, cool shower, tidying her bedroom nicely and then preparing to get ready. Even though she didn’t have to be at the prison until 8am, she planned to leave early.

“No, not the dress. Too sexy. Casual. I need casual but oh my fuck, the heat already!” she muttered, rifling further through the depths of her wardrobe. Settling on comfy yet cute, she chose Lycra shorts and a vest top both in black, with a plaid shirt knotted at the waist over the top. She pinned her hair up in a cute, messy bun before applying her makeup.

There, she wouldn’t be quite so casual in her choices, deciding on a nice set of feathery false eyelashes and giving herself a dark, bronze-brown smoky eye with lots of kohl, a little blush and highlighter too before finishing her look with a slick of tinted lip balm.

Lipstick would be pointless, for as soon as she saw him, the first thing she wanted was the kind of kiss that would ruin even the most smudge proof of cosmetics. The little ritual of her getting ready routine acted like a calming tonic, but every so often she’d picture his face in her mind and her tummy would somersault.

Checking her reflection once finished, she added a few pieces of jewellery, happy with how she looked, spritzing herself with perfume before jamming her feet into her Vans and taking a few deep breaths. 7:15am. It was time to leave, with her excited little heart thundering away in her chest.

With every kilometre that passed along her journey, the internal butterflies only grew wilder in their merry flutter. She could hardly believe that the letter she’d sent to him three years before had led to this, her being the one to fetch him from prison as a free man at last.

Her. She was the one he couldn’t wait to be with. Her. God, she was lucky.

As she approached the prison, the imposing structure and barbed wire fences seemed less threatening and more symbolic of the freedom that awaited Lucas beyond them. The sun was already beating down hard, making the tarmac shimmer, but Erika barely noticed as she parked her car and walked up to wait at the main entrance for him.

Even with a little traffic to contend with, she was still ten minutes early, pacing around while nervously twirling a loose tendril of her hair. Her heart raced with anticipation, every second bringing her closer to the moment she had been dreaming of.

“Oh, my fuck!” she squeaked, seeing him through the reinforced glass panes of the large doors emerging from within, those heavy security doors then buzzing open.

There he was. Tall, strong, and unmistakably different from the man who had first entered there twelve years prior. Their eyes met, and a thousand emotions passed between them. With a smile that could rival the sun, Lucas walked towards her, the burden of years behind bars melting away with each stride.

Placing the bag and bass guitar case he carried down on the floor, he opened his arms wide. “Fucking come here, then!”

She squealed softly with utter delight, running into his arms, clinging onto him as they shared elated laughter, Erika burying her face against his neck as he swung her around. Turning to him, finally, she received exactly what she’d been craving; the kind of kiss that knocked the wind right out of her.

Their mouths didn’t break apart at all as his hands glided down to the back of her thighs, lifting her neatly and cleanly from the ground again, Erika wrapping her legs around his waist as their tongues continued to roll together sensually.

Holy hell, the man could kiss.

When they finally pulled apart, breathless and grinning, she leaned her forehead against his, feeling the reality of his presence wash over her in a wave of overwhelming relief and joy.

“Hiya!” she finally chirped brightly, making him chuckle.

“Hi yourself, beautiful,” he beamed, kissing her again. “I guess I should put you down and let you drive me away from this place, but I kinda don’t want to right now.”

“How about you give me another of those kisses until you do?”

Her suggestion was accepted, their mouths pressing together again. Inside, the glow he felt was unsurpassed. He was free, with the woman who’d shown him such unwavering support clung on against him, the heat from her body so closely pressed to his having the kind of effect that he’d expected. His heart raced even more rapidly than just her presence alone had caused, happily lost to the gentle, yet heated kisses they shared.

“Oh, so I’m not being put down any time soon, then?” she asked when they parted, Lucas shifting her around to his hip before reaching for his bag. Swinging it over his shoulder, he then picked up his guitar case, looking at her adoringly.

“Not just yet, no.”

“But I’m heavy!” she exclaimed.

Immediately, he scoffed at such a notion. “Bullshit, you’re not at all.”

For a man who lifted the kind of weights he did, she probably wasn’t. He carried her with complete ease, Erika feeling tiny in his grasp, which for a girl of 1.75 metres tall was virtually unheard of. She’d always been as tall or taller than any other man she’d previously been involved with, and none of them had been strong enough to carry her like she was a small doll.

Lucas, at a towering 1.93 metres tall, and what she estimated to be around 140kgs in weight, was vastly different.

“Wow, that’s a motherfucking cool car!” he exclaimed, setting her down beside her beloved motor. Being someone who took more than a passing interest in muscle cars, he knew what it was, the striking, gun metal painted vehicle a 1967 Ford Galaxie 500. “This is the one you did up with your dad, right?”

“Correct,” she confirmed, popping the trunk, the space big enough to fit both his guitar case and bag. “He bought it as a wreck at a car show down in the Netherlands and drove it all the way up back up here on a low loader. Worth it, considering he paid about four thousand euros for it as a heap. It’s worth about four times that now.”

They climbed in, fastening their seatbelts as Erika continued. “It’s fast as hell, too. We took out the standard engine and put in a big-block V8, so it has some power.”

Lucas closed his eyes for a moment, looking a little pained. “Stop it. You’re a beautiful woman who knows her stuff about cars. I’m getting way too turned on!”

“It does naught to sixty in seven seconds,” she playfully revealed, bobbing her tongue between her teeth.

He groaned, prompting her giggles. “If you don’t shut up, I’ll be fucking doing naught to sixty in seven seconds, too. I promised you twenty-five.”

Leaning to him, she gave him a few kisses through her laughter. “Sorry!”

He curled his lip, gently biting hers. “No, you’re not. Motherfucking terrorist upon my male hormones.”

“And you think you’re fair on mine, do you, looking the way that you do right now?” Smoothing her hand over his chest, she could have died on the spot. Oh, to touch him! To see more of him, too, his gorgeous, bulky arms and thick chest, shown off nicely in the black vest he was he was wearing.

Nope. Her hand didn’t stop stroking for a moment. “This chest is next level sexy.”

He looked her up and down, winking. “I grew it just for you, baby girl.”

The air truly crackled between them, Erika feeling less and less like she would be able to hold herself back, should sex be on the agenda. Why should she, either? She was a grown woman of thirty, knew Lucas was in it with her for more than just a quick lay, so why not?

Leaning for another kiss first, she turned the key in the ignition, the engine roaring into life. Since Alex was out at work until 6pm that evening, and in his haste to prepare everything for his friend’s homecoming had forgotten to have spare keys to his apartment cut, they were spending the day together.

Lucas had said he wanted his first day of freedom to be low key, that he’d get around to visiting with the few people left in his life in the days to follow. She was really touched that she was the person he prioritised to be around first.

Sitting there comfortably, his hand rested on her thigh while gently stroking the soft, bare flesh with his thumb, he felt whole. More so than he had in a long, long time. With every kilometre that passed, spiriting him further and further from the place he’d been confined to for the past twelve years, a shimmer of restoration flooded his veins.

It was an odd feeling, knowing that while the prison had acted as just that, confining him from all he knew and loved, equally, it had been his sanctuary for a long, long time, too. It had put a divider between him and the vying mob who likely wanted his blood spilled after what he had done, kept him safe, nurtured his regrowth from troubled young man to the well-adjusted, fully grown one he now was.

Looking to his side, he smiled at the woman who he now very much saw the same way. Erika’s devotion to their burgeoning bond truly had been a safe sanctuary for him, too. Now, he was free to revel in it, and he couldn’t have been more elated.

Here it was at last. His second chance to make something of his life after his actions had robbed him of so much of it.

As they drove along the winding roads, the morning sun casting dappled shadows through the trees, Erika could sense a palpable shift in his demeanour. The lines of tension that had often etched his face seemed to soften with each passing moment, his gaze more serene as he took in the surroundings of his freedom.

They spoke of everything and anything along the journey, their words a balm to the wounds of the past, a testament to the bond they had formed and were now ready to work upon further.

“How do you feel?” she asked, manoeuvring the car onto the highway, away from the more rural surroundings of green and gold.

“Unburdened,” he replied simply, hand gently squeezing her thigh. He’d rested it there before they’d even left the prison carpark, making no effort as yet to move it. “Ready to start all over again.”

The beginning of that start was firstly to fuel his rumbling stomach, Lucas much too excited to eat at breakfast that morning, so telling Erika to find somewhere decent and he’d pay.

In his last visit, Alex had left a number of personal possessions he wasn’t allowed to have while in the prison with the booking wardens, ready for his release. These included a new cell phone, his thick silver curb necklace, his Mjolnir pendant, chunky silver rings and watch, plus a new wallet he’d stuffed with some of his savings' cash.

Their destination place was a small restaurant not too far from her tattoo shop, Erika managing to find a parking space and swinging the car in. They walked down to the eatery with the earthy, hippie vibe hand in hand, Lucas experiencing a little inner tension.

He didn’t know what the hell he would do, should somebody recognise him. Obviously stand his ground and be polite in the face of hostility, that was a given, but how he’d actually word a comeback to any negativity was beyond him.

It felt as if he wore a neon light above his head, the word murderer illuminated there for all to see, yet many people on the busy street passed him by without a second glance. To them, he was simply a big, tall, tattooed guy, walking hand in hand with a beautiful, tall, tattooed woman.

“What the motherfuck is a cronut?” he exclaimed, frowning as he read the menu before him a few moments later, sat at a table in front of the restaurant.

Ahhh, yes. There would be certain things that had passed him by while serving his sentence, new food fads being just one of them. “It’s a mix between a croissant and a doughnut. They’re not that good.”

“Noted. I think I’ll just stick to eggs. I know where I am there.” He chose them scrambled, with a side of turkey bacon, sourdough rye toast and steamed vegetables, Erika admiring him for his commitment to eating healthily. Taking the first mouthful, too, he saw that while prison food hadn’t been outright awful, it was still nowhere near as good as what was before him on that plate.

Or maybe it had something to do with it being his first meal as a free man. Perhaps a little of both. He couldn’t deny though as he sat out there, he felt a tiny bit on edge.

“You look, I dunno,” she observed, spearing the last piece of her pancakes with her fork. “A little tense?”

Picking up his coffee, he took a swig, the corner of his mouth upturning a little bit. It was more grimace than smile, though. “I guess I’m just waiting for somebody to recognise me, and the reaction they’d have to that.”

Reaching for his forearm, she rubbed it affectionately. “Don’t be nervous about it. Just shut them down, it’s none of your business.”

“I’m not nervous,” he stated, scratching his beard. “Merely apprehensive.”

“Well, don’t be that, either.” It was his first day as a free man; the last thing he needed was to feel anything close to negativity, although she understood why he might.

“Listen, I know for you, you were trapped in one place where your life wasn’t able to move on while confined, but for other people? It’s different. Their lives have moved on, there’s been other things to arise in the last twelve years to pull their focus. Trust me, people aren’t discussing the Solna Satanic murder like they used to.”

Her measured wisdom gave him pause for thought, Lucas slowly beginning to nod. She was right. While he’d remained in the same place, both physically and often mentally, the society who’d so reviled and condemned him had moved on. Could he say for certain he’d never receive backlash? No. Would it likely occur as much as he was anticipating? Also no. At least, he hoped so.

He was just about to thank Erika for her sage words, when, as if cosmically timed...

“Excuse me, I’m sorry to disturb you, but you’re Lucas Borgström, aren’t you?”

Looking to his side, he felt his spine grow a little rigid, until noting the expression on the face of the girl who’d asked him. Starstruck.

“Yeah, yeah I am.”

“Oh god! I thought it was you, but you look so different to how you did! Fuck, I can’t believe you’re out of prison now, wow! Can I get a picture with you for my blog, please?”

He hated to let her down, seeing the honest excitement there in her. She was so young still, too, probably only in her late teens. “Sorry, no. I don’t want anything ending up on the internet just yet. Trying to keep a lowish profile for a while.”

She looked a little deflated, but accepted without fuss. “I didn’t realise, I’m sorry,” she apologised, Lucas shaking his head.

“S’okay, it’s fine. It’s just my first day out so I’m adjusting, don’t really want any attention, y’know?”

“Okay, no problem. It was great to meet you, Lucas.” She smiled, waving, acknowledging Erika with a little nod too before walking away.

Immediately she turned to him, raising an eyebrow. “Look at that, huh?”

He crinkled his nose a little, scratching the back of his head. “Hmm, wasn’t expecting that.”

“No, because your immediate default is to be down on yourself,” she spoke gently, hand returning to rest on his arm. He moved it, entwining his fingers with hers instead, squeezing softly.

“Again, you’re right, I do. Thanks, baby. For calling me out on it.”

As Erika's touch grounded him, he couldn't help but marvel at the strange mixture of emotions swirling within. The encounter with the young fan had been unexpectedly positive, a stark contrast to what he'd anticipated. He wouldn’t immediately feel an internal change, knew he’d always be waiting for someone to confront him, or clandestine whispers and disapproving glances to be directed toward him.

However, one thing he could reply on was knowing Erika's unwavering support would serve as his compass, his true north. Smiling at her across the table as she finished her latte, he felt a glimmer of optimism breaking through his apprehension.

They stayed for another coffee, enjoying the shade from the nearby trees on what truly was a sweltering summer morning.

“Someone’s in demand,” he spoke, nodding toward her phone. It had been emitting a series of little pings all morning, yet she hadn’t bothered checking it much.

“Sorry, I’ll put it on silent.”

“No, no, s’okay. I wasn’t complaining,” he assured her, “just noticing is all. Work emails?”

Unlocking the screen, she took a look at her notifications. “A few, yeah. Mostly these are comments and likes on my Instagram page, though.”

Immediately, he held out his hand, eyes widening a little. “Show me? I haven’t seen anything regarding your work other than the sketches you sent with your letters.”

His enthusiasm flattered her, opening the app and handing her phone to him, Lucas beginning to scroll through. With every image that passed, his eyebrows only rose higher.

“That’s insane, seriously.” Turning the screen, she saw the gigantic back piece she’d recently finished for a client, all gone in dotwork. It had been one of her most challenging accomplishments to date, Erika truly thriving on the task presented to her in her specialised field of that tattooing style. He continued his scrolling, closing his eyes suddenly with a very deep, yet quiet little groan. The screen was turned again.

“Ahh, that’s Nicki practising her photography skills and using me as a model. That was the weekend away we had recently, just after I got back from England.” The picture that had captivated him so much was one of her posing at the edge of a hot tub, her legs looking impossibly long, hair tumbling in a dark, wavy cascade, green eyes glittering like peridots in the sun.

“You are unbelievably sexy. Tell me, how many more pictures of this am I likely to find? Just so I know how many buckets of water I have to go and ask the people of this establishment to throw over me?”

“A couple.” she giggled, resting her chin on her hand, she observed him keenly, quietly laughing more when he made much the same reaction a few further pics down.

Shifting in his seat as he looked out from under his eyebrows at her. “You’re in so much trouble.”

“I am?” she teased innocently, her heart fluttering at the look of desire right there in his bright blue eyes. “Trouble I bet I can handle.”

“You’ll need to, after I get my twenty-five seconds of shame out of the way,” he chuckled, continuing to look through the pictures. Once again, the phone was turned, but this time to focus more on her professional art rather than the work of art he considered her to be. “You did that freehand?”

Studying the image of Japanese style dragon she’d done on a client’s leg about six months ago, her nod confirmed. “Umhm, I did.”

“Motherfucking show off.”

“I could say the same for you, you know. I found an old video of you on YouTube a while back, having a jam when you were about sixteen.”

Lucas’s style was very much borne of his admiration for the late Lemmy Kilmister, bass playing frontman of Motorhead, one of his favourite bands. Distorted and chord-heavy, just like his idol, he played more with a rhythm-based approach, even favouring the same make of bass, a Rickenbacker.

That didn’t mean he wasn’t adept in other playing disciplines, though. It was usually how musicians became as stunningly talented as he was, following a rich and diverse path with their influences.

He was thoughtful for a moment, trying to place which video she meant. “Is that the one where I’m jamming to Nutbush City Limits with Nils singing?”

Yes, that was indeed the one. “That’s it! Whatever anyone wants to say about Nils, I have to give him credit. The man has some serious pipes.” She’d gotten shivers, listening to the drummer boom out the classic rock n’ roll song. It made her wonder why he’d chosen to be a drummer, with a voice like that. When Lucas had later joined in, singing with him, she could see very much though why he was the frontman. Wow.

It also fascinated her, that the guys in The Hanged were such true appreciators of music in so many forms and genres. Loud, blistering metal had made them famous, but their skills far extended beyond their chosen medium.

“Yeah, yeah. Nils is crazy talented. Plays so many instruments, has a great voice. He takes people by surprise, y’know? He’s probably one of the most talented musicians I know.”

His eyes saddened a little then, Erika spotting it immediately. “You really miss him, don’t you?”

The truth of that hit him hard in the chest for a moment. Since they’d been sent to different prisons, and inmates were not permitted to have contact with others within the system, it had been twelve years since they’d been in touch.

“I do, yeah. I really do. I miss who he was before all of this shit happened, before we both went down the wrong path. People say that he was always dark, something a little sinister about him, yadda, yadda, yadda. I suppose that’s true, but it didn’t define him, y’know? He used to be so giddy and larger than life, and that laugh of his. I’d crack up just to hear the guy whooping and screaming with laughter!”

Her smile was soft, cocking her head to the side. “Let’s hope that same Nils you remember so fondly is the one who’ll eventually be released, hmm?”

He could only agree, and truly hope so, too.

Leaving not long after, they headed to a place Lucas had been missing sorely since his time away, Erika driving them over to Tyresta National Park, a beautiful landscape of natural beauty.

They walked hand in hand through the gorgeous surroundings, their time there a serene interlude, a moment of reflection and connection with nature's embrace. For Lucas, it was a much-needed balm, absorbing the tranquil beauty around them. There, he truly felt the encompassing comfort of freedom embrace him in a comforting cocoon.

The air was a little fresher there although the heat still mildly stifling, filled with the scent of pine and the distant murmur of a flowing stream. Beneath the feeling of tranquillity, though, the burn of desire only began to glow further, a red-hot ember that tumbled between them with every kiss, every word delivered in flirt, every glance of unadulterated want for one another.

Leaving at just past midday, they arrived at Erika’s just before 1pm. Turning to her in the small hallway of her charming little bungalow, no words were exchanged, a gaze of pure wanton desire lingering.

He thought he’d be the one to dive upon her first, but it was her who grabbed him by the front of his jeans and hauled him near, their kisses immediately feral. Some might think it too quick, but for them, this had been building and building for three long years, the need in them now burning like a match dropped too close to a source of accelerant.

Little would stop the fire that had now been lit between them, if anything at all.

A/N - Did you like what you just read? If so, please reward your author with a little comment or a reblog. Your support would mean so much to me!

Next Chapter

#original fiction #original story #original stories #original novel #romance fiction #metal music #metal guys

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kindasleepywriter · 1 year ago

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Bird of Prey ~ Chapter 8: Forging a Warrior

Bird of Prey masterlist. Azriel x Reader.

Chapter summary: Azriel helps you open up about your past.

Story rating: Mature - Minors DNI

Warnings: Child abuse, neglectful/absent parents, torture (yes again i'm sorry she's been through a lot)

Word count: 2.6k

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“My parents,” you started, “were mates. I know that’s not exciting for the Inner Circle, with your abnormal amount of mating bonds. It’s almost statistically impossible, really.”

Azriel laughed and shook his head softly at the comment.

“For the common people who don’t take baths in mythical objects, you know that’s rare. Very rare. My mother was a respected officer in the Dawn legions, and so was my father in the Illyrian army. They both were powerful enough to gain recognition at the time. When their bond snapped, everyone was uneasy at the thought of a child born of the two courts, but the idea of fated offspring from two powerful magic wielders was enough for them to tolerate their offspring. They kept it all very hush-hush, until they were certain where I’d end up.”

“I say they’re mates but it certainly wasn’t the romantic dream people portray.” you continued. “The hate between Peregryns and the Illyrian… well, I’m sure you’re aware of how deeply entrenched it is. When I was born, I was just a piece of property to be used as a bargaining chip. Dawn and Night battled over me like children, claiming they had the right to claim me. In the end, it was settled that I’d get education in both courts, that negotiations would take place when I’d have my first bleed, and that I’d be married off to someone in whichever court ended up not owning me.” You shuddered slightly at the memory. You’d been made aware of the potential suitors during your teenage years, and you knew a future with the men that each high lord put forward would be misery.

Azriel’s face darkened. He seemed not to be a fan of the arranged marriages that run rampant in Illyria, you thought.

“I’d have expected such a trade from the Illyrians,” he said through gritted teeth, “but for the Dawn court to be involved in such dealings… They must’ve expected a lot from you.”

You let out a snort. That wasn’t even the beginning of it.

“This was Thesan’s doing?” he added, and you could practically see the spymaster master gears start running in his head.

“No, I think Thesan would’ve done things differently.” You had never truly met him, but you’d heard enough from the people through your travels. He was a much kinder man or, at the very least, not someone who’d encourage the treatment you’d received as a mere child. Azriel appeared relieved at your words.

You hadn’t known the Shadowsinger that long, but you’d seen enough to understand he was willing to go to great lengths for the people he… cared about. There was no other way to put it. He’d begun caring for you as you had for him and, even if it scared you to death, it brought you much comfort.

“They expected me to move mountains,” you said, “and stop a thousand-man army without breaking a sweat by the time I was twelve. I was trained in every type of combat they could think of from the moment I could stand and hold a stick. Imagine a 6-year-old being treated like any grown soldier in the camps... I could deal with the physical training, but it was the hate and mockery of both courts that dealt the most damage. I hadn’t even grown my first flight feathers before I had heard every sort of insult possible and faced beatings from soldiers of all ages.”

“My parents…” you added hesitantly as you felt your voice wavering, “They didn’t care. If anything, they encouraged the others, because what worth could I have if I couldn’t protect myself? They berated me whenever I told them, they’d answer that it didn’t matter that the ones dealing the blows were twice my age, as I’d have to face much worse ‘out there in the real world’.

It deteriorated as I got older, without any magic to show for myself. The courts were growing restless, demanding things I couldn’t give them and, when I wasn’t able to do as they asked, they took any means possible to verify I wasn’t lying. During those years, they put me through pain… pain I hadn’t even imagined was possible.”

You blinked and looked up at the light blue morning light, trying and failing to keep your tears from falling. You felt the phantom slice of the blades, the coals, the spears they had used, every time you fell asleep. They’d keep you from unconsciousness each time and healers healed your wound, but you didn’t need the scars they’d erased as a reminder. You still carried your past with you every day.

You felt the subtle touch of Azriel’s shadows, still roaming hesitantly where you were perched on the railing. They slid over your shoulders, a weight to keep you anchored in the present. Azriel approached you silently, conscious of your distress. He looked murderous, but you knew it wasn’t aimed at you. He raised a hand towards you but seemed to think better of it and retreated. You gripped him before he had the chance, uncertainty in his eyes at the contact of your skin against his. You silently ran your thumb over his rigid knuckles, trying to match the rhythm of his respiration as to calm yourself and focusing on the texture beneath the pads of your fingers.

You knew of the burns on his hand, you’d noticed them almost immediately upon meeting him, but they were anything but repulsive, despite what he seemed to think. They were a part of his history, what had made him into the man he is now, and you found that there was a pride to be found in them. It showed he’d survived, that he was stronger than what had happened to him.

He relaxed after a moment and stepped closer to you, hesitantly wiping your tears away with his free hand.

You were too deep in your own mind to think about the intimacy of the situation.

“When they finally realized that I was as good as powerless” you said, “No one wanted me. From that moment, I was just a disgusting half-breed on which they’d wasted their time. It didn’t matter that I could take on their best soldiers from adolescence, my blood was too tainted for them to bother with me. My father turned his back on me and stopped contact entirely. My mother decided to keep me in the end, and I still don’t know if it was a moment of weakness at the thought of leaving her child at the mercy of the world, or if it was just in hopes of me eventually discovering some hidden powers. I never asked her; I was too afraid of the answer. She sent me to some second residence she owned, hidden away from anyone else, where I kept training on my own and worked myself into the ground, still desperately hoping I could be what they all wanted.”

Azriel frowned. “I understand you would be easily recognizable in Illyria, but how could people even tell you weren’t fully Peregryn in Dawn? Surely, they couldn’t notice it at first glance.”

“The knowledge of my existence had traveled too far. Dawn had paraded me like cattle, hoping to lay claim. There’s also… There’s one obvious thing. It’s something I’ve kept hidden for a while now. I think the Vanseras might be the only ones outside of Dawn who even know about it. It’s very visible and it puts a target on my back. I didn’t want my presence tracked across Prythian that easily after I left Autumn.”

It was time for someone to know, you thought. If only to be able to stretch your wings, to finally get rid of the fears that you held for them. You steeled yourself for what you were about to do and looked around towards the house, peering into the balcony doors and to the roof, making sure you weren’t watched. The last thing you wanted was for this to reach Rhysand’s knowledge. His father had done enough damage to you as is, you didn’t need him to try and do the same.

At your hesitance, some of Azriel’s roaming shadows slithered in all surrounding areas, sweeping over windows and doors. “There’s no one here to see.” he reassured you softly after a moment, from where he now stood between your parted legs, your hands still joined together. You felt your anxiety fade a little; you didn’t find any dishonesty in his words.

You hesitated, still. He pointed his chin at his own membranous wings, and they stretched, slightly curved inward towards you, and brushed along each of your shoulders. He was inviting you to follow his movements, you realized.

Slowly, you straightened your spine and used the rarely used muscles that crossed your back to slowly unfold your wings. You kept them at a certain distance from Azriel’s, you weren’t quite ready for that type of contact. You winced at your wings’ stiffness, but shook them out to fully extend them, exposing the inky black dawn feathers that lined their interior surface.

Azriel’s mouth opened slightly in shock as he studied the expanse of plumage, razor focused. You knew they were unusual, the harsh contrast of white and black and sharp corners of them drawing the eye, and you couldn’t help but feel self-conscious at his reaction. While you held no hate towards your own wings, you’d never let someone fully examine them since you were a child and had only ever received insults from others about their appearance.

“They’re beautiful, Dove.” he breathed, following every feather. The tension you held didn’t leave you.

“You might be the first one to say that.” you laughed half-heartedly.

His eyes cut to yours sharply. “They must’ve all been idiots, because those are the most magnificent wings I’ve ever seen.”

You flushed at the praise, barely holding his gaze as you shied at the attention. His hands twitched between yours, no doubt itching to study the feathers closer, and you guided one of his towards the closest ones. You instinctively felt the need to fold your wings away from the touch of another person, but you held a tight lid on your feelings and stayed as still as possible when his fingers brushed against one of the longest flight feathers.

You only twitched at the contact, keeping your focus on Azriel’s expression. He looked mesmerized as he explored the surface under his touch. You had no trouble believing he hadn’t lied about liking them, his childlike wonder blowing away any doubts you may have had earlier.

“You have a bigger wingspan than I do.” he said unexpectedly with narrowed eyes, as if the thought had slipped from him unwillingly. You couldn’t stop the startled laugh that escaped you, amusement flaring through you. He’d just added an onslaught of teasing to his future.

Your fidgeting hands found his wings too as you giggled. You waited for a moment before touching them, and he made no comment on your intentions despite you knowing he was fully aware of your movements. He never missed anything. You barely touched the membrane, but then softly ran your fingers along the base of his talons and you felt him shudder under your hands.

“Don’t- Don’t start something you won’t finish, Dove.” he said hoarsely, lightly gripping the feather he was examining. You laughed again as you remembered the sensitivity of the Illyrian wings. You’d never had the opportunity to study these reactions up close, having never laid with an Illyrian, but you’d heard about the anatomy all the same in the camps.

“I won’t torment you today.” you teased softly, your hands retreating to rest at the nape of his neck.

He tried to imitate the gesture you’d attempted earlier, receiving nothing but another light twitch in response. “Do you not feel that?” he questioned, indignant at your lack of reaction.

“I do and it feels nice, we just have different… different erogenous zones.”

“Of course, you’d be the one person to actually call it an ‘erogenous zone’.” he muttered under his breath as you continued giggling at his display of irritation. You couldn’t help but think that he might get to figure how to make you shiver too… but only if you stayed. The last thought dampened your mood. You shouldn’t be thinking about that now. Trust him, you reminded yourself, Stop thinking about fleeing.

You curled your fingers into his hair and sighed as he continued his ministrations. Despite your thoughts, you were far more relaxed than you’d been in a long time. You didn’t remember ever letting someone touch your wings without you being forced or pressured into it, and the care he put into caressing the soft dawn feathers felt heavenly. You leaned forward and sighed, face dropping to Azriel’s neck and finger still raking through his curls.

“I didn’t tell you everything yet.” you murmured.

Azriel hummed in response, the decision to continue or not remaining yours. You didn’t want to break the moment, but you couldn’t stop halfway through. You didn’t move away from him as you spoke softly against his skin.

“When my mother died, I didn’t inherit anything.” You started. “I don’t know who got her things instead. Some officer from the legion just showed up one day, broke the news, and promptly kicked me out. I barely had time to pack a bag. I didn’t feel like I could stay in Dawn, but I didn’t have anywhere to go either. I tried to send a letter to my father and never got a reply, so I naively assumed he didn’t receive it. I knew he had no interest in me previously, but I thought he’d show some mercy to a child he’d had with his mate. I traveled there and- well, you know the rest.”

Azriel stayed silent for a moment. “Your parents were some right shitheads.”, he finally said, and you didn’t have to see him to guess the frown that adorned his face.

“You’re telling me.” you muttered. “I take special comfort in knowing they both died painfully. Those two assholes both ended up rotting away alone in their courts from infections, not gloriously on the battlefield like they must’ve dreamt.” Fate had gotten that right, at least.

He chuckled and let go of your wings, instead wrapping his arms loosely around you, completely undeterred by the cruelness of your words. You basked in his closeness.

The moment was too short for your liking before his grip on you tightened. A few of his shadows emerged from the balcony doors, and he groaned deeply.

“We have approximately 2 minutes before Rhys and Amren come here to try and convince you to start training your magic.” he said.

You muttered a few choice words that conveyed exactly what you thought of the idea.

“That’s what I thought you’d say, Dove.” You pulled back and glanced at him. He had a mischievous look in his eyes. “You know, there’s a lot to do in the city.”

“I feel like an escape plan might be brewing,” you said with an arched brow. He smiled in response. “Won’t they be mad at you for leaving with me?”

“Not if they don’t catch us.” he laughed.

Rhysand and Amren found nothing but the remnants of your scents, flowing through the breeze.

Finally another soft moment 🙏 be prepared for a LOT of (requited) pining y'all

I've got a couple chapters already written that I'll just need to edit over the next few weeks, so the update will continue like they have so far!

As always, I'd love to hear what you guys think about the story and your theories on what's happening next 💛💛

Banner created by the amazing @saradika!

Taglist: @sapphenaa @minnieoo @weasleyreidstyles

#azriel x reader #azriel #acotar #acotar x reader #acotar fanfic #azriel fanfic #azriel POV #azriel x you #azriel x y/n #enemies to lovers #bird of prey

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chickycherrycola · 4 months ago

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King of My Heart, Ch 6

We are SO back, baby!

After eight long months of writer's block, ongoing health issues, and committing myself to way too many projects, I finally return to KOMH! I'm so sorry for such a lengthy hiatus... I've had a lot going on. For those keeping up with this fic, I appreciate your patience immensely 🙏 the long-overdue sixth chapter is a behemoth at over twelve-thousand words! and I hope each and every one of them is worth the wait.

Read Ch 6 on Ao3 here!

I not only must thank @moriohpissky for her beta services on this installment, but also for the gorgeous art she drew of Soul and Maka in their engagement gala outfits 💕You can find the art embedded in this chapter, or look for it later on her blog when she posts it! A million pomegranate blossoms for you, Leah dearest 💐

Happy reading!

#soul eater #soul x maka #maka albarn #soul eater evans #king of my heart #cherry writes #soul eater fanfiction #soul x maka fanfiction

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kkanabel · 10 months ago

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caffeine addiction - chapter 7 Bakugou Katsuki x Reader / Coffee Shop! AU

directory/m.list

⇦ previous chapter - next chapter ⇨

words: ~2.3k

The photo you took with Bakugou was admired, to say the least.

After going home from the show and taking a long bath to wash the day off, you noticed that your aunt invited you to a group chat containing the two of you and the Bakugou family.

You were in your bedroom, sitting in a fetal position on your bed with your hair wet. You were in your twelve-year-old t-shirt that was four sizes too big for you. It had so many holes in it that if you wore it outside, people would believe you were a rat that was scurrying about on the streets. But you loved it. And you were damn adamant about never getting rid of it.

Taking a piece of your hair, you brought it to your nose and breathed in the scent of your shampoo and conditioner before sighing in delight. This was the best part about washing your hair. Even though you may look like some version of a wet mop, you smelled so good. This is great. You loved the time after a show. Your entire body would be tired and aching afterward (especially your feet after wearing heels), but the afterglow of going to one was always the best.

The slight soreness was somewhat satisfying, and you’d be able to go back through your photos and relive the entire show again through your photos as you listened to the barely-there noises of cars driving past your window and the occasional hoot of an owl.

The group chat was then flooded with the photos of you two. There was a particular photo they focused most on, though– the one with Bakugou glancing down at your lips as you beamed up at him. You couldn’t lie. It was a beautiful photo. The outfits you two wore were well-coordinated, but it was overshadowed by the sheer chemistry emanating from the two of you.

Your hands were placed delicately on his chest whilst his hands rested on your lower back and underneath your chin, angling your face up to his. There was a ghost of a smile left on Bakugou’s face while he was glancing at your smile.

You let out an audible “woah” and left a heart message next to that particular photo. You were proud! It truly looked like the two of you were a couple, and the clothes were definitely a highlight of the photo altogether. The photographer did a great job! You didn’t know how the photographer/editor was able to make it look so much like Katsuki was going to kiss you, but you weren’t complaining! It looked great!

The actual moment you were taking that photo didn’t feel anything like what the mood from the photo emanates. That amazed you. The photographer was truly talented.

And then the bribery started.

Before the afterparty ended, Mistuki and Masaru were holding a conversation with you and your aunt about the clothing. You mentioned how you really wanted some of the pieces from the runway, and you were probably going to desperately search the web for anything similar.

Usually, pieces straight from the runway aren’t the same ones sold at stores. When looking at luxury brands’ stores, they normally have a refined version of the things they sell at stores. The point of fashion shows are to market the brand and to make a statement (whether it be about society, politics, or whatever else). Of course, it depends on the brand, but Masaki is a brand that uses its fashion shows as more of an art exhibition than anything. You, however, have a tendency to actually want the pieces directly from the runway.

After you wore them for the photos, you just wanted them more. So, this was a way for you to ask the original designers if you could purchase their pieces in a… sly way.

You didn’t expect it, but Masaru offered to give an outfit to you for free. You were especially surprised since you were willing to pay thousands for it! They said it was a gift for their old friend’s niece. You were ecstatic!

Mitsuki, however, being the opportunist she is, decided that they’d give an outfit to you for a favor or two. And you, being the clothing addict, agreed to “anything!”

This is how she was able to coax you into getting your permission for posting this photo to their official Instagram.

It’s unknown how she was able to convince her son for his permission, but it was likely something ten times more sneaky. To you, it was a small price to pay for these clothes you likely would have sold a kidney for. After all, it was Masaki! Straight from the runway! Masaru even personally tailored it to exactly your size! This was a chance that only a couple people in the world could receive. You were fine with it.

In fact, you were glad that you had to just show your face to a small fraction of the public. It’s fine! It’s a great deal, in fact! What you didn’t expect was for this photo to turn the viewing for a small fraction of the public into one of a big fraction.

Either way, this didn’t become an issue until a bit later.

Bakugou Katsuki was back to his daily routine. His attention was a little more split, however. The joint group chat between the owners of Masaki and Kindeki was blowing up at almost all times of the day. The designers of the brands had jumped straight into drafting up ideas as soon as possible, and it was headache-inducing.

Bakugou was tired of his phone stuttering out notifications as if it were a bumbling high schooler trying to do a presentation. Thus, during his time at the café, his eyebrows were constantly furrowed into an expression of sheer irritation as he felt his phone vibrate against him in his pocket every couple of seconds. “Why can’t those damn geezers just talk about this in real life!?” he thought, opening his phone for the nth time to check up on what they’d been talking about.

His mom and your aunt were talking about the Ham and Swiss Croissants from Starbucks. This was the last straw. He turned off the notifications for the group chat altogether, finally getting a break from the incessant vibrating of his phone. From across the counter, Ashido looked at him with concern.

“Hey, you good? You’ve been staring at your phone all day like you did in high school whenever Midoriya got a better grade than you on a test.”

Bakugou gritted his teeth and bared them at the girl for her remark, but answered nonetheless. “My mom and her friend from college keep bitching about croissants in a group chat we’re using to discuss details for a brand collaboration.” He rolled his eyes at the thought of it. He was going crazy. Why couldn’t they just use their own chat? Why the hell are they talking about croissants!?

He was leaning his hands against the back counter that held his expensive espresso machine. His “baby”, as his employees would call it. He leaned a little too far back and burned the back of his arm on one of the metal attachments to the machine which was still dripping with boiled water. As he hissed from the pain, he started whispering a scary amount of curses under his breath.

Then, the door rang.

Instead of you coming back into the café, this one little dipshit is starting to come in instead. Some people were moving into the empty space next door to his café. They were setting up a boutique or some stupid shit, and this guy was one of their people. He kept ordering the same shit you’d always order. A peach lemonade and some version of an extremely caffeinated drink, and some other shit. This time, the guy came in with a Starbucks bag with something in there that smelled suspiciously like those stupid fucking croissant sandwiches.

Bakugou forced a smile on his face as he was handing the man his order. He could feel his face twitching with poorly concealed anger, so it just made the man squeak and rush out of the place as soon as he could. Ashido chuckled at him from the cashier, watching as Bakugou quickly reverted his face back into one with a deep grimace. Yeah, he wasn’t going to be working as the cashier at all today. He’d scare them all off, and he’s already intimidating enough as he is.

As of this point, Ashido was getting concerned. She could see a vein popping up on his neck from clenching his teeth and fist so hard. He looked a little constipated, to be honest, but she kept these words to herself for fear that she may end up causing that vein on his neck to pop in sheer rage.

She genuinely hadn’t seen him this angry in years, and she was wondering how high his blood pressure must have been. After knowing him for so many years, she was sure that the croissant conversation wasn’t the only thing that was getting on his nerves so much. It couldn’t have been. Normally, when the part-time workers at his café would start having personal conversations in the employee group chat, he’d just calmly ask them to bring the conversation to another place.

That was a similar scenario to what he described. Two people he knew quite well using a professional group chat for personal discussions– it was basically the same situation.

There had to be a certain trigger that was making him more irritated than usual. She saw how Bakugou reacted to the man that just left the café, and she couldn’t help but think that he was connected to all of this. Hmm, he was carrying a Starbucks bag, though. Maybe that’s why he was angry? Because he brought a bag with the logo of a massive coffee corporation into his café? But no, the man was clearly buying the drinks from his café, which basically cemented the fact that his drinks were better. Bakugou would normally be proud of that.

Ashido kept thinking to deduce the reason behind his actions. Playing detective for the source of Bakugou’s emotions is one of her favorite hobbies. Especially when the café isn’t busy.

Maybe it’s because the bag smelled a little bit like croissant sandwiches? There has to be another reason other than the croissants. There’s no way he’d get that angry just because of a reminder of some pastries.

Ashido was hyper aware of his actions during her exchange with the customer, however. Partially because she was worried and mostly because she was curious.

Before Bakugou could even take a glance at the bag in his hands, she noticed him clench up when he asked for “an americano and a peach lemonade– both large.” She could have sworn that Bakugou also let in a sharp breath when the customer said that.

What’s wrong with buying an americano and a peach lemonade? Tons of people ordered those. Maybe it’s the combination of the two? She thought. “But (Y/N)-san orders these and he’s never angry at-” her jaw dropped and she immediately clasped a hand over her mouth.

She had reached an epiphany. "It’s definitely because she hasn’t been visiting the café as often!"

Is that why he was so pissy?

Was it because he wanted to see you?

Ashido told Bakugou he should go on a break so that she could process this information while he went to calm down. She’ll tease him about it after his blood pressure goes down. He’s also been clenching his teeth so hard that his teeth will start falling out if he doesn't cool off somehow.

As she washed her hands (because she touched her mouth earlier), she had a terrifying cheshire cat smile on her expression. From afar, a customer saw her and squeaked a little.

It was his break, but he couldn’t fucking relax. Maybe he should just leave the café to Ashido for the rest of the day to cool off at the gym. But no, he couldn’t. He had to finish the day, or else it would damage his gold, coffee mug-shaped pride.

He has to, even if he’s starting to sweat from how much sheer anger he feels. His head and jaw ache from being clenched for so long, and he thinks his palms might bleed if he digs his fingernails into them any longer. He desperately needed this break.

He was very a little irked at the fact that he hadn’t seen you stop by his café ever since the show. You were a regular at his café, so why hadn’t he seen you since?

Was it because he scared you off because of the way he looked at you in the photo?

It sent his mind spiraling. "Of course she wouldn’t show up again. It’d be fucking awkward. She probably thinks you’re a disgusting pervert because of the way you looked at her. Fuck, you barely know her. She definitely thinks you’re disgusting because of that.”

As of this point, he was standing in the employee bathroom, staring at himself in the mirror again. He looked at the wall desperately, wanting to punch it with all his might. But if he did that, he’d probably break his wrist again. Not a good idea to punch a concrete wall like that one time. “Calm down,”he thought, using breathing techniques that his old therapist taught him.

He hasn’t felt this angry in years– ever since Midoriya got a higher grade than him on that government test in his senior year of high school.

So, he went back to the counter of his café, making himself one of those hot chocolates that you helped him develop a little while back.

Before he got back to work, he went to the back and did some push-ups in the pantry while thinking of you. He’s going insane. Again.

directory/m.list

⇦ previous chapter - next chapter ⇨

#bakugou katsuki #bakugo x reader #reader insert #bnha #boku no hero academia #mha #my hero academia #coffee shop au #bakugo katsuki #bakugou x reader #fluff

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life-is-unreal · 11 months ago

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Stranger Danger~ {Genshin x reader} Teyvat Chapter 12 - The one and only Holy Lyre

*long chap

"Y/N! Y/N! Wakey wakeyyyyy!"

You groaned, pushing a certain fairy's head away. "Paimon, your hair is tickling me."

"We're going to meet up with Venti after dinner, you wanna go to Good Hunter's? Ooooh, Paimon loves their food!"

Abruptly opening your eyes, you shot up. "Dinner? It's night time already?"

Paimon crossed her arms, "Did you seriously sleep through the entire day? What were you doing when me and Aether were away?"

"Stuff. Yeahhh, let's go to Good Hunter's, I think I have enough money for a fried egg."

Aether popped his head in through the door. "Umm, are you sure? I can pay if you want?"

"Yeah! It's not healthy to just eat one egg for an ENTIRE day!" Paimon yelled, "Paimon would've eaten a hundred fried eggs if she could only eat eggs!"

"No seriously, I'm not hungry." You pushed Paimon out, "I'm gonna change, give me a minute girly pop."

The feeling of dread settled in your stomach when you read the clock, it had been over twelve hours and you, a gigantic foodie, still wasn't feeling hunger. "I would've eaten two burgers already." you grumbled, were you modified by the game? It would make sense since characters only needed to eat when they needed to heal or when they just felt like it. However, Paimon's words made sense for once. It wasn't normal. Would your body in Earth fail due to starvation and fatigue?

"I should probably eat..." You couldn't afford to return back to Earth and find that your body was already dead and you also couldn't afford Paimon or Aether noticing your weirdness.

"I thought you were only ordering for a Teyvat fried egg?" Paimon gaped at your third meal.

"I was joking." You cried silently inside, all your mora that you've earned by climbing walls and running around roofs were all gone. You were seriously considering to go to Leila and ask her to find you a job. "I need to finish the job quest quickly, Imma starve at this point..." you mumbled.

"Huh? You say something?" Paimon scratched her head.

"Must be your stomach rumbling. Go eat some more Paimon, you're a growing fairy you know." You pushed her towards Aether.

"Ooooh Aether! Can you get me another Mint Jelly? They're sooo goood."

"Paimon! That's your fifth Mint Jelly! We already have no mora for tomorrow!" Aether side eyed you.

Ignoring his eye daggers, you smile innocently, "But Aetherrrr , you could just pay up when you have enough mora..."

Sara who just happened to be passing by nodded, "Yes, we allow our customer to be in debt. They get to pay it on their next meal, however no more than ten thousand mora is allowed to be in debt. Should I write it up?"

Giggling, you stood up, "Aether, I'd be by the Cathedral. Toodles Paimon!"

-.-.-.

"Heeyyy Venti." You whispered next to his ear.

"Gahhhhh!" The boy yelped, choking on his dandelion wine. Venti wiped his mouth, glaring at you softly.

"You knew that I was there the whole time Mr Anemo Archon." You rolled your eyes, swiping a bottle of dandelion wine from his hand.

"I wasn't expecting you to whisper in my ear! Hey! That's my last unopened bottle!" Venti gaped at you as you guzzled half of the bottle down.

"Thank you, I will be keeping the entire bottle." You ignored his protests, the bottle disappearing in your hands as you placed it in your inventory. You didn't bother to put it in the infinite capacity bag from Skirk, Venti was a god. Why the fuck would he bother asking?

"So uhhh, how did you find out?" Venti giggled nervously, taking a cautious sip of dandelion wine.

You snorted. "Mr Anemo Archon, there is a big ass statue of you right in front of us. I don't know how your citizens don't notice but it's quite obvious that you are you."

Venti leaned closer, his turquoise eyes sparking in amusement, "And you never doubted that I purposefully made it so that no one would recognize me?"

You shrugged, "Why would I doubt it? You're Barbatos. You do whatever shit you want and that includes casting random voodoo shit, oh, and stealing your own lyre."

The god snickered hysterically, "Voodoo? Of course not. Why would I ever cast Voodoo? However, I must say that I'm quite surprised that you noticed immediately. The power of my spells are quite strong. As for the lyre..." He hummed quietly.

"Blub."

"What the fuck. Didn't I put you in the closet?" Your eyes went wide as Bob landed in front of you.

"He was in your hair the whole time. Did you not notice?" Venti raised your eyes.

"What the- Nevermind." You glared at the little cryo slime. "Next time. Stay put."

"Blub." Bob's eyes turned teary, little icicles dropping on the stone floor.

"What- Hey. Hey! Don't cry! Bob!" You cradled the little cryo slime in your arms.

Venti stared at the two of you in confusion. Were slimes supposed to act like this? But ever since you and Aether's little group had been sighted, things had been getting weirder and weirder. Not to mention his occasional forgetfulness and moments when his memories get blurrier and blurrier.

The bard raised his brows as he noticed two jarring figures in the distance. He sighed, finishing his bottle of wine, the glass bottle crumbling under his touch before turning into gusts of wind.

Unaware to him, you were staring at him the whole time so the glass bottle literally folding into itself like some origami made you make a mental note on not to piss Venti off.

Bitch is definitely not the weakest Archon. If he is, I'm doomed.

"So... 'The Holy Lyre der Himmel' is..." Paimon waved at you before turning back to Venti.

Venti crossed his arms, "One of the most treasured items in Mondstadt. It's the lyre that Barbatos used to play."

You coughed, hiding the uncontrollable smirk that was creeping up your face.

Aether looked at you weirdly, he was still salty on you leaving him in Good Hunter and making him pay for the bill. Gosh, Paimon's five mint jellies, three honey roasts and two chicken skewers would be his nightmare.

"With it, perhaps I can help Dvalin draw his gentle nature back out of this nightmare he's going through."

"Will it really stop Stormterror from causing more damage?" Paimon raised her brows, ohhh, she was soooo suspicious of this green bard. She was going to give him an ugly nickname.

Venti puffed his chest out, "Of course! I'm the best bard in the world. There's not a single song I do not know, no matter if it's from the past, present or future."

Gee, wonder why...

"Look me in the eyes, do you not find me trustworthy?"

We met for a few days mate. If Aether wasn't Aether he wouldn't have bothered with anything.

"...Just what is that in your eyes!?"

"Soooo how we gonna get it?"

"Why do you think we're here Paimon?" You ruffled her hair. Goddd it was sooo fluffy. Were you jealous? Yes.

"It's in the Cathedral?"

"Aether, please don't tell me you're turning into Paimon."

"HEY!"

Venti coughed, "I'll go take a look around, you can come if you want."

You rolled your eyes, "Hurry up. I'll be waiting outside." Pushing the doors open, you threw the three of them in. You weren't going to embarrass yourself or get second hand embarrassment. No. Just no.

It didn't take long for the trio to emerge again. Around five minutes? Maybe three minutes.

"Y/N! That bard want's us to steal the lyre. STEAL IT!" Paimon hissed in your ear.

You snickered softly, "Paimonn, it's fine. You're going to do a lot more abnormal stuff." The last part was whispered.

"So uhhh, we're going to wait for some time before sneaking back in." Aether pulled Paimon back.

The time function should work now right?

"Wait a second Aether." You rushed off, pulling your phone out, you tapped the glitchy Genshin App. Or the creepy Gen shit as you call it.

"Timmmee function. Ok, fast forward for two hours..."

Suddenly, you were yanked backwards by an unknown force. "Holy-"

Holy shit indeed. You, Y/N L/N, was looking at yourself, from a third person view.

You watched, mouth agape as the 'you' started to talk with Aether and the five of you started going around the city as Venti gave you guys a little tour. Since everything was happening double the speed, you had no idea what they were saying nor the details of the little tour.

"Yo Y/N. You there?" Paimon crossed her arms. "You're blanking out again."

Your eyes gradually focused, a surge of memories attacking your brain. It was all the events that had happened the past two hours. They were all very vague, as if you had actually been there.

A dark thought flitted across your mind, what if there's someone who could control time out there? People would be acting the same and no one would notice it. Except the unfortunate person would have to watch themselves do random stuff from a third perspective and then get attacked by memories depending on the time. It's almost like someone's possessing you but that someone is 'you'.

And if someone managed to control time on someone that wasn't themselves, could it be possible that they could watch their entire life or even worse possess someone else's life? Ohhh, and if they had the ability to wipe away memories...

"Y/NNNN!!!!" Paimon screeched. "Are you even listening to me?!" Paimon could feel her eyes twitching, she called you for a million times and you were just standing there like a statue.

"My bad. We're going to rob it now right?" You petted her head.

Paimon sniffed snidely, "Duuuhh. They're already inside, Paimon's only out here waiting for you because you're Paimon's friend."

"Awwww. That's actually so sweet." Paimon reminded you of a certain annoying pinkette that was actually pretty sweet if you ignore her arrogance.

"Let's head inside." She avoided your eyes, dragging you into the Cathedral.

"Don't be shy. Go." Venti beckoned the three (four if Bob on your head is considered) of you towards the basement.

"Why's there so many fucking stairs." You grumbled, you thanked mihoyo for not implementing the flights of stairs that it took to enter the basement, you counted up to a hundred and twenty before giving up. Basements were not meant to be this deep.

"We're here." Aether whispered.

"Let's separate. We have too many people. That's a big target." You whispered back, "Imma go that way. Bye bye."

Why's there so many guards? It seemed like half of the city's knights were all crowded in the basement. And yet there's barely anyone on the outside...

"Who're you!"

Oh well, they're there. You hurried to the chamber holding the Holy Lyre der Himmel.

A cicin mage stood there, she placed a finger to her lips.

"Sshhhhhh."

And with a bright flash of purple, she was gone.

"She...disappeared?!"

You heard footsteps. "Aether, on my mark."

"Freee! What are you doing here?"

"Go!"

Earning a few startled gasps, the three of you managed to escape the cathedral with ease. Probably not the best decision to only have knights in the basement.

"Venti! We're busted! Run!" Paimon screamed as the stampede of footsteps started to get louder and louder.

"What? Follow me!"

With a wave of his hands, wind currents appeared. A wing glider appeared and he zoomed off.

"Y/N. You don't have a wind glider..." Aether yelled.

"I can fly if I want to. It's fine, I know where he's going!" Wind currents, unfortunately didn't work on anything that wasn't a wind glider but it didn't matter. You didn't go to the bar just for drinks yesterday. You found several routes and knew where people were scarce.

"Why walk when you can fly?" you muttered as the knights finally got out of the cathedral.

You snickered as one of them noticed you. "B-byeeee!" You jumped down from the railings, directing a gust of wind to catch you right before you were going to fall to your death. Your health stats were still pretty low due to zero artifacts equipped.

"You- You're here before us?" Aether panted. You and Venti were already in front of the tavern. "When you were away, I walked around."

Venti glanced at you suspiciously, he definitely didn't say that he was going to go to Angel's Share but he didn't bother asking.

"Master Diluc, this is the account's for this week."

"Hmmm, the disaster has greatly affected business." a monotone voice made your eyes light up.

"Bitch is stunnninggg." Truth be told, Genshin's designers fucked up realll bad when the Diluc in game and this Diluc looked sooo different.

There was this urge to just poke his gorgeous face and mess up his floofy hair.

"Hi, we'd like a seat at your, uh...least conspicuous table."

"Umm...The second floor has fewer customers. You'd be less conspicuous up there...But aren't you a bard? Why not sit front and center?" Diluc frowned slightly.

"Hahaha, let's save the paid performance for next time. We'll be heading up now, see you in a bit!"

"Hey, keep an eye on them. There's something strange about that bard. I'll go ask around." Diluc's eyes never left from your little group.

"Ask who, exactly?" Charles asked.

"The 'protectors' of Mondstadt."

Diluc noticed the girl from the group stopping at a crowded table when one of the guys waved at her.

"Oh! Master Diluc, that girl came yesterday. Not that the information is valuable." Charles mentioned.

"Ah, Master Diluc. Have you seen three thieves around?"

You and Aether gazed down from the second floor when Otto and Miles approached the man.

"What happened? Why have you mobilized so many guards?"

"Haven't you heard, Master Diluc? Two thieves were trying to steal the Holy Lyre!"

Diluc frowned slightly, he could feel the gazes from other customers in the tavern. "Oh? How odd."

"Isn't it? The holy lyre is a treasure that was played by the God of Anemo themselves. Such a precious piece of cultural heritage-" Miles was cut off by Diluc.

"Why would one want to steal something they can't sell off? Would pay better to steal from my cellars..."

"..."

"Huh?"

Diluc waved his hand, "Sorry, off topic. Believe they headed that way."

"Understood. Thank you, Master Diluc!"

After the knights left, the four of you headed down. "Today I think I'll have a glass of..."

"You can put down that bottle you stole from behind the counter."

"...something cold."

Diluc raised his brows.

"Right. I want answers."

Blahblahblahblab. You were considering to go to a certain group of people who were eavesdropping on the conversation.

You were cued the moment you lifted your foot. "Hot shot? So you two and the bard are close friends?"

"We're not close, actually."

Diluc nodded slightly, "Well...Despite only being passing travelers, you still offered your help to Mondstadt in its time of need." his eyes narrowed slightly, "A shame you joined the Knights."

"Nah, we did not." You shook your head firmly.

"You did not." Aether corrected you.

"Yeah. You, are helping out of the goodness of your heart. I'm helping for mora and rewards. Me and the Knights have a fat grudge." You scowled.

"Wait...So they actually threw you into prison?"

Diluc coughed, "So you were that person who they thought was a fatui spy."

"The Knights of Favonius...Inefficient right from beginning to end. And towards the Fatui? Weak and conservative. Forget it. I don't feel like talking about it."

"Imma agree with him on this one. It's pretty much just the vision holders doing their work. There are some good non vision holder knights that are good but most of them are just doing their own thing. Like those three bitches that landed me in fucking prison because of my clothes." You snarled.

"Seems the two of you don't really like the Knights of Favonius." Venti commented.

"Try going to prison man."

"Just differences in approach is all. I have my own hopes for this city." You raised your thumb.

The security of Mondstadt was basically from: One, Jean and the vision holder knights. Two, Diluc the Darknight Hero. Three, other vision holders like Diona and Sucrose. Four, adventurers and good Knights. Five, Knights that barely do shit. Six, civilians and shitty Knights.

"Now, answers. Why did you steal the Holy Lyre?"

Ok this shit gonna take a long while.

"Aether, Imma go talk to some people. Bye."

With that, you plopped your ass next to Leila.

"Wowwww, when I meant get yourself a job. I did not mean steal the Holy Lyre." The blonde looked at Diluc before focusing on you.

"Someone else stole it though. The fatui to be exact." You accepted the glass of dandelion wine. Quite refreshing after all those stairs and running.

"Fatui? Lemme guess, a cicin mage." Jace downed a shot of vodka.

"How'd you guess?"

"Being a treasure hoarder means that we have to fight off any beings that wish to steal treasure that we've stolen. Some fatui fight us when they're low on mora and let me tell you. Loads of treasure hoarders die when they're up against them. The cicin mages and the burly ones are especially annoying. The cicin mages just teleport and teleport. I almost died to one a few years ago. I would prefer fighting other treasure hoarders."

"Other treasure hoarders?"

"Oh yeaahhh. You might not know but there's gangs. Probably not the official name but some gangs are allies, some gangs are rivals. Me and Jace are with different groups but we're allies and we're also pretty high up in terms of ranking. Normal treasure hoarders have no breaks. They're basically like servants and meat shields. Gotta work your way up or you'll die by blocking a blow." Leila clasped her hands together.

"Y/N, you should go. Your lil friend group's leaving. Remember to find us to get a better job." Raye shooed you away.

"It's not my job-"

"Yeah yeah. Shoo."

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

Teyvat Chapter 13:

https://www.tumblr.com/life-is-unreal/760038607699542016/stranger-danger-genshin-x-reader-teyvat-chapter?source=share

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mountttmase · 2 years ago

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A Mountain To Climb: The Sequel

Chapter Twelve

Note - the final chapter 🥺 thank you to everyone who’s sent me feedback and interacted with me for this series. I had a lot of fun writing it and I’m hoping we go out with a bang 😏 love you guys 🩷

Pairing - Mason Mount × Reader

Word count - 10.5k

Warnings - series will contain fluff, smut and angst

Masterlist

When Mason asked where you’d like to go on a long weekend, the last last place he was expecting you to say was Cornwall.

To say he was confused was an understatement and you could tell by the way he was looking at you that he wasn’t sure what to say but you held your ground. He’d asked you where and that’s what you wanted.

‘But we could literally go anywhere, like in the world’

‘I know’

‘And you want to go to Cornwall?’

‘Yes please’ you smiled sweetly but he still looked bewildered buy your choice. ‘I know it’s a little unconventional but I spent a lot of summers there growing up and it’s a special place to me. I just thought it might be nice to share that part of my life with you but if you’re happy spending thousands on a private jet to the middle of nowhere then that’s fine too’

His face immediately softened when you told him, knowing he loved it when you opened up about yourself. Even after all this time there was still so much you were learning about each other and with a quick kiss to your nose he pulled out his phone.

‘If my baby wants to go to Cornwall then that’s where we’re going. But you best believe I’m finding the best house there’ he told you, causing you to laugh as he scrolled through his phone intently.

You let him know the general area you’d be happy to go but you let him take it from there. He was insistent on it being a surprise so you let him take control of it, happy to go along white whatever he wanted as you trusted his judgement.

Considering you’d been official for over two years, the pair of you hadn’t really been away for more than a night or so just the two of you yet. Mason loved being around his family and friends every chance he got and since you spent most days just the pair of you, you were always happy to branch out with everyone else and just because you were with other people didn’t mean skipped out on alone time as Mason always made the effort to plan things for just you two.

Mason seemed insistent on it being your first solo trip this time, along with Parker and he made sure he asked you lots of questions about what you did on your holidays when you were young. Whilst you were excited about it, you were growing suspicious about everything. He told you it was just because it was well overdue that you had some time together but when his family came to see you a few days before you were due to go, you were left even more confused but their incessant teasing.

‘You sure you’ve packed everything, Mase?’ Jaz smiled cheekily but you saw him blush as he rolled his eyes. ‘Don’t want to forget anything do we’

‘No make sure you’ve double checked it all’ Debbie chimed in but the playful tone to her voice unnerved you.

‘Yeah yeah, just drop it’ he told them quietly. You could tell he was playing but he sounded a little stressy for some reason. So you didn’t bring it up again even though you wanted to be in on the joke with them.

Mason had arranged for you to take the train like you did growing up, telling you he didn’t fancy the long drive down however you’d never been in first class before and you couldn’t deny you felt a little smug as you took your seats. He let you have the window seat but used this to his advantage so he could lean on you to look outside, laughing at his excited face when he caught sight of the sea. Parker was also very well behaved as he mostly just slept in between your legs.

The car he’d hired for the few days you were here felt like it would be too big for the tiny Cornish streets but as he drove you realised you wouldn’t be staying in a town like you normally would.

You were driving down a tiny dirt track for about five minutes with no end in sight but just as you were about to make a joke about this being another long winded way of kidnapping you he mad a turn to the right and you were now in front of one of the most beautiful houses you’d ever seen. The grand sandstone building had huge windows and a beautiful view of the sea and you felt bewildered by the sight of it.

‘Mason this is…’

‘Not bad huh?’ He winked, jumping out of the car so he could run around to your side and help you out. You arms went around his neck immediately, pulling him in for a quick kiss and his sparkly eyes melted you as you pulled away.

‘Not bad? I didn’t know there were places like this here’

‘Neither did I’ he laughed, letting Parker out before grabbing your hands so he could lead you to the door and locate the key. ‘How about we have a little look round, I’ll get the bags in and then we go grab some food?’ He suggested and you agreed as he lead you through the front door.

If you thought the outside was beautiful then the inside needed and new word invented for it. A beautiful living room with a huge glass window that took up the whole wall meaning you could look out to sea and a generous kitchen with everything you could ever need. You were looking around in awe but everything kicked up a notch when he took you outside and your eyes fell on the cute sofas and fire pit just like you had in Arnham but the addition of a hot tub made you squeal in delight.

‘Mason this is amazing, thank you’ you laughed, throwing your arms around him as you squeezed each other tightly.

After one more quick look around you hauled your bags inside, unpacking your clothes before getting back into the car so you could pop to the big Tesco for food. Thankfully you managed to remain anonymous and make it there and back without any issues so once you’d unpacked the food you let him know you were going to take a quick shower and freshen up.

When you came back downstairs you found Mason sat at the window seat, back resting against the wall at he looked out to sea. He seemed completely in his own world and you almost felt bad going over to disturb him but the loving look on his face as he caught your eyes made it worthwhile. His hands reaching forward to silently ask you to sit with him so you crawled in between his legs as laid your body against his. Both of your arms around each other as he gently left little kisses along your hairline.

‘What you doing here?’ You asked softly, feeling him chuckle under you but when you looked up at him he didn’t want to meet your eyes.

‘Just watching the boats’ he told you, your eyes following his line of vision to see the cargo ships in the distance slowly making their way across the horizon before looking back up at him.

Even from this angle he was the most beautiful man you’d ever seen and you couldn’t help but reach up to place an gentle kiss on his lips. He kissed you back immediately, moving to cup your jaw so he could hold you in place but you both didn’t take anything further. Both content with lazily brushing your lips together as you held each other for comfort.

These quiet moments together were your favourite, just being with him settled your mind more than anything else and the fact you knew you could both hide out for a little while made you even happier.

When he eventually pulled away, he kept looking at you, his eyes warm and soft as they flickered over your face and you felt a small shiver run through you just from his loving look.

‘I’ve been thinking about tonight’ he told you quietly, thumb stroking your cheek as you nodded up to him. ‘How about I make us some dinner and then we take a drive into town? We can take a walk and get some ice cream maybe and I’m pretty sure there’s an arcade on the pier and I don’t know about you but I’m feeling like a winner’

‘Sounds perfect’ you laughed, pecking his lips one more time before settling back into his body. You could feel him pulling you further into him as he nuzzled into your hair before looking back out to sea.

You made dinner together just like you used to, before getting changed to go out, deciding to leave parker at the house as he was tired from all the traveling and had spent most of his afternoon laid up in his new doggy bed. It was still sunny but the temperature had dropped so you made sure to wrap up before he drove you into the town so you could have a look around.

‘What ice cream do you want baby?’ He asked, pulling you into the quiet shop, watching his face light up as his eyes scanned all the flavours.

‘You pick first, I’m still looking’ you told him, noticing how he picked the most expensive cone with extra chocolate around the side and a flake and once the girl behind the counter handed it over to him it was almost the size of his head. ‘Really, Mase?’ You laughed as he smiled at you cheekily.

‘What? I’m never allowed this normally, thought I’d go all out’

‘Go and sit down’ you laughed, pointing to the stool by the window so he would be out of the way for you to pick yours. You decided to go for the same fancy cone as him but you only got one scoop as you were still full up from dinner and once you’d paid you met him by the door.

‘Hold this and I’ll pay’ he told you, trying to pass his half demolished ice cream to you but you shook your head before trying to lace your fingers through his to lead him outside.

‘I’ve paid, let’s go’

‘Why did you do that?’

‘Cause you paid for this whole thing, I think it’s only fair i buy you an ice cream at least’

‘Well if I’d of known you were paying I would of got a smaller one’ he laughed, squeezing your hand as you made you way down the high street and down to the beach. There were still a few people around but for the most part it was quiet meaning you could take a slow walk along the beach without being disturbed.

‘It’s pretty here’

‘See I have good taste’ you winked. ‘Are you glad you listened to me?’

‘I always listen to you’ he laughed, pulling you in front of him so he could hold you as you walked before stopping to look out onto the horizon so you could watch the sun slip behind the sea.

You felt a peace for the first time in a little while, his cheek resting on top of your head and arms around your waist making you feel warm and safe and judging by the way you could feel him relaxing into you, you could tell Mason felt the same.

Not too long after he turned you both so you could face each other, brushing some loose hair behind your ears before cupping your jaw so he could place feather light kisses over your nose and across your cheeks.

‘I love you so much’ he whispered,

‘I love you too’ you told him. Breath caught in your throat at how romantic this all seemed and the way he was looking down at you made your heart race in your chest.

He looked like he was going to say something else but he just gave his head a small shake before kissing your forehead.

‘You still fancy going on the pier?’

‘Yeah, okay. I quite like the idea of beating you at something’ you smiled, pulling him along as he laughed behind you. He teased you the whole way along the pier about how he was gonna make you eat your words and as soon as you walked in he was straight over to the basketball hoop.

‘But I’m no good at this’ you laughed ‘I like the ones where you put the 2p’s in until they all fall out’ you explained with a huff but he wasn’t having it, handing you a ball and setting your hoop up so you could play against each other. You were even worse than you thought you’d be and the excited shrills coming from Mason were really putting you off.

‘New high score baby’ he teased, pinching your side and you were starting to realise you were in for a long evening.

You knew Mason was competitive but the fact that it extended to meaningless games like this made you giggle until you we’re starting to get annoyed about all the games he was winning.

‘Fancy a game of air hockey?’ He asked, walking over to the now free table and even though you didn’t feel like being humiliated again you followed him over and took up your position. You’d never played before but it seemed simple enough and as soon as the puck was flying in your direction you were quick to hit it back straight into Masons goal.

You both stood in shock, eyes wide as you looked at each other and whilst you wanted to laugh you could see his brows were furrowed a little.

‘Beginners luck’ he huffed, retrieving the puck and placing it back onto the table before getting back into position. You had a pretty good rhythm going for a few minutes until once again you blasted your puck into his goal. ‘What the fuck’ he moaned, louder than he intended and you cheekily shushed him as there were kids around.

‘Mason, language’

‘Yeah, whatever. Are you ready?’ He asked, chucking the puck down again and not even waiting for you but you were too quick and managed to hit the puck right back to him.

His face was a picture, concentration and anger all over his features but you were on a high. Happy you were finally good at something and you knew you shouldn’t of but you felt the need to rub it in a little.

‘Come on Mase, I thought you were good at attacking and defending? You’ve been shocking at both so far’

‘I don’t normally play with my arms, smart arse’ he growled, hitting the puck as hard as he could but it just ended up bouncing off both sides and into his own goal. ‘This is bullshit, you must be cheating’ he fumed, slamming the puck back down and for a second you thought about easing up on him a little bit but he’d rubbed your face in it all night and you figured he could use a taste of his own medicine. You ended up winning 5-0 in the end and he was more furious than you’d ever seen him.

‘Oh come on Mase, you lost one game it’s not the end of the world’ you tried reassure him, walking round to place your hand on his arm but he shrugged you off, mumbling something under his breath as he walked the other way. ‘Mase?’ you pouted, following him outside but he didn’t stop for you.

‘Surprised you can hear me over that massive ego’ he murmured, making his way over to the railing so he could look out to sea and even though you knew he was just being silly and a little but hurt you couldn’t deny his words stung a little bit. You didn’t think you’d been overly obnoxious, not half as bad as he’d been but by the way he was reacting to you, you wondered if you’d gone too far.

‘Mase? Please don’t tell me you’re this upset about a game of air hockey’ you asked, brushing up besides him as he let out a deep breath he’d been holding.

‘I don’t like loosing’

‘I know but it doesn’t mean anything’ you reasoned, bumping your shoulder into his before forcing you way into his arms so you could hold his face in between yours hands. He was still pouting a little bit so you tried to kiss it away, feeling a sense of accomplishment come over you as he smiled gently. ‘Why don’t we have another game?’

‘Nah, let just play something else’ he told you, shaking his head and looking around to see what different things they had outside before his eyes fell on a game where you had to throw balls at some clowns to knock them down and you stood and cheered him on as he threw the balls as hard as he could.

‘What shall we do with all our tickets?’ You asked holding them all in your arms but you knew it wouldn’t be enough for anything worth having as you’d taken a look at the prizes and they were worth way more than you had. ‘Shall we give them away?’

‘Yeah, let me find someone’ he smiled, eyes scanning the arcade until he saw a little boy in an England shirt. You watched him carefully approach, tapping him on the shoulder and your heart melted as the little boy realised who it was. A look of shock and disbelief taking over his face as Mason knelt down to his level. ‘Hello mate, I’ve got a load of tickets but I don’t have time to change them up. Would you like them?’ He asked and the little boy nodded his head before throwing him self at Mason for a cuddle.

‘Thank you’ he murmured adorably, pulling back so Mason could hand the tickets over and you could tell the little boy was overwhelmed as his bottom lip started to tremble.

‘You alright, mate?’ Mason asked softly before the boy was hugging Mason again. You didn’t often get to see Mason interacting with fans like this but Every time it made your heart soar. He was so loving and soft and you just wanted to kiss him all over his perfect face.

It didn’t take long for the boys dad to come over, wondering why a random man was hugging his kid but as soon he clocked it was Mason they were all laughing. You offered to take a picture of the three of them as a parting gift and as you strolled towards the exit you felt him bump your arm and nod over to the air hockey table.

‘One more game? Winner takes all?’ He laughed, trying to make it look as though he was kidding but you could see the seriousness in his eyes so you walked him over and you yourselves set up.

He was really really trying to beat you, practically leaning halfway across the table as his tongue fell from his mouth in concentration. You were giving as good as you got though, knowing he wanted to win but you weren’t about to let him off easy and after a few intense minutes you smashed the puck directly into his goal.

‘Yesssss!’ You cried, jumping in the air to the side of the table so you could impersonate one of his goal celebrations by pretending to throw a fire ball at him but he just stood looking at you with a stoney expression whilst he bit the inside of his cheek. ‘Oh come on Mase, join in’

‘No’

‘So you’ll do it with Chilly but not with me?’

‘Get back over there or I’ll start without you’ he grumbled as you circled him, laughing your head off at how you kept winning but you were soon back in your place and ready to go again. He slammed the puck down once more and you could see the determination in his eyes but you weren’t quite ready for the force he hit the puck with or the pain that seared through your hand when it hit you at an awkward angle.

You jumped back, yelping in pain as you cradled your aching hand before looking towards Mason. He was staring back at you with wide eyes and a guilty expression.

‘Shit, y/n. I’m so fucking sorry, are you okay?’ He panicked, rushing over to take a look but you held your hand to your chest. ‘Baby? Please I’m so sorry you know I didn’t do it on purpose. Please let me see’

‘It’s fine’ you sighed, letting him take your hand so he could inspect it but there wasn’t much to see in the dark. That didn’t stop his from bringing your hand to his lips so he could pepper it with small kisses and even though you were a little mad with him you couldn’t help but smile.

‘I think I need to accept that air hockey isn’t my game’ he told you with a sigh before cupping your jaw so he could press a delicate kiss to your lips. ‘Im so sorry baby, I feel awful’ he whispered.

‘You should’ you laughed, pulling away so you could grab his hand and link your fingers together. ‘I think we should end the game there’

‘I think so too’ he said shyly, and upset frown on his face as he was clearly annoyed with himself for lashing out like he had but he let you pull him outside to the exit, walking passed the claw machines and you were almost at the end when he pulled you over to stand in front of one.

‘Look baby, they’ve got the little seagulls with chips in their mouths’ he told you excitedly, your mind automatically going back a few weeks to when you’d both gone to visit Portsmouth. Taking Summer and Mila for a walk on the beach in the afternoon and it was all going well until Mason was attacked by the same birds for his chips. The memory of him squealing and shouting in fear was still fresh in your mind and you couldn’t help but laugh at the thought of it. ‘Let me win you one to say sorry’

‘It’s fine, Mase’ you told him ‘no one ever wins these things’ you tried to explain but he just shook his head and grabbed a load of coins from his pocket.

‘Well I’m not stopping till I get one. I don’t care how much it costs’ he mumbled, already pressing the button to make the claw go down to grab one. It was halfway up before it fell out and you let him have a few more goes until he offered you a try. It was all in vein though, you not having any more luck than mason and all you seemed to be doing was flipping them over at this point so you told him you were done but he clearly wasn’t.

You’d been on the pier for a while now, your legs and body tired not just from tonight but from the whole day so you went and took a seat on a bench near by, facing away from Mason and out to sea. You couldn’t exactly see it cause it was so dark but you could hear the waves and the sound made you feel at peace.

It was only a few minutes later when you felt someone brush up besides you and you knew it was Mason instantly. He stopped just in front of you with his hands behind his back before kneeling so you were at the same hight.

‘Y/n’ he smiled, trying to be serious but you could see the smile gently playing on his lips.

‘Mason’ you replied, leaning forward just a touch, fluorescent lights of the games dancing over his face and making him look even more beautiful to the point you wanted to close the gap and kiss him but you knew he had more to say.

‘Would you please accept this seagull as a token of my apology’ he told you seriously, revealing the toy from behind his back with a smile, causing you to laugh as you reached for it.

‘I accept your apology Mason’ you told him softly, reaching over to cup his jaw and leave a soft kiss on his lips. He hummed appreciatively into your mouth instantly, kissing you back a little bit harder but you pulled back after a few moments. Remembering where you were and who you were with. ‘Shall we head back?’

‘Sounds perfect’

The next day Mason had reserved for a beach day and lucky enough for the pair of you the weather seemed to be playing along. You woke up to bright sunshine but an empty bed so after you’d pulled on one of Masons shirts you plodded downstairs to see if you could find him.

He was stood in the kitchen, packing what appeared to be a picnic basket in nothing but a pair of shorts and his face softened as soon as his eyes met yours.

‘Good morning sleeping beauty’ he mumbled, pressing a kiss to your forehead before another gentle one to your lips.

‘What time is it?’ You asked, wrapping your arms around him as he carried on packing the basket, feeling his body vibrate as he chuckled underneath you.

‘10:15’

‘That’s not that late’

‘It is, you’ve only got an hour and 45 minutes left of the morning. I’ve done loads while you’ve been asleep’

‘Oh yeah? Like what?’

‘Well I went for a run with Parker, came back and had a shower and went out again to a little bakery I saw in the village. Got us some lunch for the beach in there and a little bit of breakfast’ he smiled, nodding towards plate of pastries that were sat just to the right of him and you felt your tummy rumble immediately.

‘Thank you Masey’ you murmured softly before kissing his back and taking a step over to pick up your favourite.

‘You’re welcome. When you’re ready we’ll get everything together and head down yeah?’ He smiled, gesturing down to the sandy beach that you could see from your giant window in your living room and you nodded quickly before jumping up to run back upstairs and get changed.

The walk down to the beach didn’t take long but Mason seemed insistent on bringing half your luggage with him but by the time he’d set everything up you were happy he had. The little chair he’d carried down was comfier than you thought it would be and once you were ready to get settled you striped yourself down into your bikini you watched Masons jaw drop.

‘Holy mother of god’ he he said lowly, his eyes eating you up as he took in your figure. You didn’t think it was anything too exciting, a simple black bikini top and matching high waisted bottoms but you knew it looked good and the fact that the bottom was more of a thong than anything else was a bit risky but it was worth it to see the look in his eye. ‘If there wasn’t other people around I would be on you in a second you look unreal’

‘You like?’ You teased, giving him a quick twirl before sitting down, and the way he parted your legs so he could slip his body in between let you know he did. Even after all this time together he still looked at you like it was the first time and you hummed into his mouth as he pressed a heavy kiss on your lips.

‘I love. You’re such a tease I swear’ he whispered, his fingers dancing along the waistband of your bottoms before trailing them down the tops of your thighs. ‘You wait till later I’m gonna make you feel so good’ his breathed, his lips just touching yours and after a quick kiss he was jumping up so he could whip his top off.

If the way you felt about him in this moment was the same way he felt about you then you got why he was looking at you the way he was. You saw Masons body often but you never got tired of the sight. His soft hips were a contrast to the hardness of his abs but he was perfect to you in every single way and you had to restrain yourself from reaching for him so you could kiss all over his tummy.

You both quickly got to work sun creaming each other up, Mason paying extra attention to your bum, telling you the only burn you should ever feel there should be from his hand print but the sexy and assertive Mason was soon out the window as he popped on his mask and snorkel so he could go for a swim.

‘You look ridiculous’ you laughed, settling down into your chair as he pouted at you playfully.

‘Yeah well I’ll remember you said that when I see some cool fish and you wanna have a look’ he pouted, sounding like he had a cold as his nose was sucked into the mask and you sat watching him confused as he started rummaging through a bag he’d bought down with him. You couldn’t contain your laughter as he produced a pair of flippers and you wondered where the hell he’d been hiding them.

‘You can’t be serious’ you giggled, almost crying with laughter as he struggled to get them on but he was soon up, taking massive floppy steps towards the sea and flipping you off with a chuckle as you laughed to the point of tears.

‘Come on Parker, daddy will take you for a swim’

‘You make sure you look after him’ you shouted but you knew Parker was in safe hands with Mason.

Once he was at the shore and in deep enough, he flopped in, taking a few strokes out so he was a bit deeper before floating face down. It was fun watching him for a little bit, just floating as he looked around and tried to make sure Parker didn’t swim too far away but you could feel your eyes getting heavy and since he was occupied you adjusted your hat to make sure the sun wasn’t beating down on your face too hard before relaxing so you could take a little nap. You could just feel yourself drifting off when splashes of cold water woke you up with a fright.

There stood Mason, fresh from the sea and shaking his hair at you as Parker did the same, and you screeched as you flew up from the chair.

‘Mason what the fuck’ you moaned, rushing towards him but he somehow managed to grab you and manoeuvre you so you were flung over his shoulder, rushing down back towards the sea and you were sure the sounds of your laughter could be heard from miles away. ‘Please don’t throw me in’ you managed to get out as he started wading in but when the water came to just passed his knees he moved you so your legs were around his waist as he he held you by your bum. His eyes were sparking with joy and even though he seemed to have all the power over you and could literally drop you in the freezing water at any second, you couldn’t help but lean over and kiss him.

‘I wouldn’t do that to you baby, I’ve got you I promise’ he whispered against your lips softly and you smiled at how adorable he was being with you now.

The water wasn’t as cold as you thought it was going to be but it was still a shock. He walked in slowly though and before you knew it the water was up to your chest, legs still around him as he held you to his body as Parker watched you closely from the shore, not wanting to get wet again by the looks of things and you didn’t blame him.

‘Are you having a nice time?’ He asked quietly, kissing your nose gently before his lips moved to your cheeks and then across your jaw.

‘Yeah, I’m glad we can have some time just the two of us’ you smiled, relaxing at the feel of his lips. ‘Well three of us I suppose’ you laughed, your thumbs brushing along the imprint the mask had left on his cheeks before kissing along the marks and watching his cheeks flush. He was so adorable and you loved the way he still reacted to your touch but it was the reaction of having you wrapped around him that had you feeling something pressing against you that made you eye him curiously.

‘I’ve literally got your bare bum in my hands, what do you expect?’ he laughed cheekily causing you to hide your face in his neck as his chest rumbled underneath you.

You were both quiet for a moment, just holding each other as you relished in the peace. Watching the sparse clouds roll through the sky and the sound of the waves relaxed you more that anything and you knew then and there that there was no where else you’d rather be, or would ever want to be again, than in the arms of the man who you loved more than you ever thought you could.

You pulled away so you could look at him, a soft look in his warm eyes and your heart thudded at the way he was staring at you. You could feel the love pouring from him and it only took you a second to lean forward so you could press you lips to his.

It was a slow lazy kiss, one that warmed your belly and made your skin tingle more than the sun ever could but you were both smiling too much to get any further into it. In the end just resting your foreheads against each others so he could rub his nose against yours every so often.

Mason carefully walked you out of the sea and placed you on the sand at the shore right by Parker so you could walk back to your stuff hand in hand but rather than sit in your chair you laid down with him as Parker got comfy by your legs. Mason on his front with his head on your shoulder and arm slung over your waist as you ran your fingers through his hair softly until you feel his breathing change and you knew he was asleep.

He wasn’t out for long, waking up to complain he was hungry so he dished out all the food he’d bought that morning and you sat in between his legs with your back to his chest so you could still be close.

It was early evening when you headed back up to the house. Mason had let you use his mask and snorkel but you passed up the opportunity of wearing his flippers and the only thing you could see was seaweed as he helped you move around. You didn’t get the appeal though so you went back to sit so you could read your book and he could take another nap before taking Parker on a big walk. Your plan for the evening was to cook again before taking some drinks and snacks out to the fire pit in the garden and make use of the hot tub but you felt sandy and gross as soon as you stepped inside and Mason could tell instantly.

‘You fancy a bath? That one’s massive upstairs and I really wanna try it’ he smiled, kissing your nose aster you nodded. ‘I’ll go run it for us yeah?’

‘Okay, I’ll just pop this stuff in the fridge and I’ll be up’ you smiled and with one final kiss he vanished.

The sea air must of got to Parker and you watched him trot right over to his bed before getting settled and you dished him out some food and water before scratching behind his ears in the way he loved. He was out soon after and with a quick kiss to his head you made your way to Mason.

You didn’t think you’d been that long but by the time you made it to the bathroom he was already in the bath, head back against the edge as he laid there peacefully and no matter how quiet you’d wanted to be, he felt you move besides him and his eyes were on yours.

‘Come on slow coach, I’ve got it the perfect temperature’ he laughed, watching you undress with hungry eyes before helping you in to sit in front of him. Your back to his chest as you leant your head on his shoulder and he wrapped his arms around your middle.

‘This bath is massive’ you laughed, the water just below your neck. ‘It’s like double the size of ours’

‘Is this you telling me you want one like this at home’

‘I wouldn’t say no’

‘I mean if it means we get to take more baths together then I’m all for it’ he told you cheekily, his hands trailing down your body so he could grip your thighs with his fingers, massaging the inner parts of them.

You let out a soft sigh, relaxing back into him even further as you enjoyed the way his fingers were dancing over your skin but you knew this was only ending one way. Your suspicions were confirmed when his hand hooked under your right thigh so he could lift your leg and place it over the edge of the bath so he could access you better. His left hand reaching for your chest and you bit your lip at the contact.

‘Just relax for me, baby. Let me take care of you’ he whispered into your ear and all you could do was nod whilst you tried to do what he said.

You gasped when you finally felt his fingers trace along your folds. You knew he was being extra gentle with you which you loved and given with how relaxed you were, you were ready to let him do what he wanted so when he finally brushed over where you needed him most you couldn’t help but moan loudly.

‘That’s it’s baby. You sound so pretty like that’ he murmured, gently rubbing you in slow circles as he palmed your boob with his free hand. ‘That feel good?’

‘Mmhmm’ you managed to get out, cursing under your breath straight after as he way playing with you just how you liked it and even though he’d only just started you could feel the start of your high bubbling away.

‘Look at me’ he whispered and you managed to turn your head slightly to look into his eyes. ‘Such a good girl for me, aren’t you?’ He asked, lowering his fingers down to your entrance and you gasped as he teased a finger in.

‘Mase’ you whimpered, holding onto the edge of the bath for some stability as he added another. Slowly pumping them in and out of you as you clenched around him and you could of sworn you were seeing stars. He knew you like the back of his hand, knew exactly where to touch you and how to drive you wild and if he really wanted to he could make you reach your high in no time at all but you knew he was dragging everything out as he delicately pulsed his fingers inside of you.

‘You’re so beautiful baby’ He spoke against your neck before gently sucking on the skin at the base of it. You were so turned on by his words and his fingers working away inside of you that you couldn’t help but grind down onto him a little bit but the hand on your chest soon moved down to your hip so he could hold you in place. ‘Nuh uh. This is about you’

‘But Mase-‘

‘I know, but you need to cum first yeah?’ He told you softly, his thumb now back on your clit to help you and the moan that left your lips would of embarrassed you if you hadn’t been too caught up on how he was making you feel. ‘I can feel how close you are, gorgeous. Come on, let it out for me’

Mason knew his words got you off just as much as his actions did so all so his encouragements were just getting you to the edge faster and soon enough you felt the coil snap. Profanities falling from your lips and he rode you through it and the gentle coaxing from him made it even better until you were spent and he slowly removed his fingers from you.

‘Shall we get in the shower? Wash everything off?’ You suggested, a cheeky glimmer in your eyes that he caught onto immediately and after a quick kiss he was helping you out so he could pull you into the shower.

You grabbed his shower gel quickly, soaping your hands up so you could rub it over him under the guise that you were simply helping him wash but it was really an excuse so that you could touch him. Working your way around to his back so you could lean your chest against him and as soon as he placed his hands on the wall in front of him to help him balance, you let your hands trail down to his length so you could start to stroke over him.

That first moan felt like heaven, made your knees weak and your head fuzzy but you knew what you had to do.

You wanted to hear him. Hear the way you were driving him crazy. You wanted to feel his body tense as you pulled his high from him. You wanted to see that pretty pink pout on his lips as he finally came undone, confident in the knowledge that it was you that had caused it. You had made him feel that good.

‘Y/n, p-please’ he breathed, clearly wanting you to speed your movements up a little bit but you were going slow on purpose.

You ignored his pleas, kissing over his back as your other hand softly roamed his abs and you revelled in the way they fluttered under your touch. Letting the warm water trickle over your bodies and wash the soap away as you slowly pleasured him. The moans pouring from his throat were sinful and the rush of adrenaline you seemed to be getting from this made you feel better than you thought it would.

You didn’t want him to cum like this though, wanted to see him. Feel him. Taste him.

Not wanting to waste any time as you knew he was on the edge, you let go and spun him around. Pressing his back up against the tiles and dropping a quick kiss to his lips before you started kissing down his body, paying extra attention to your favourite mole before getting on your knees and down to business. You could tell he was aching for some relief so you didn’t mess around or try and tease him, taking him in your mouth straight away and from the way he let out a shuddery breath you knew he was ready for you.

You were determined to make him feel the best he ever had so you let your fingers trail over his thighs before you grabbed his wrists so you could move them into your hair. He caught on straight away, pulling it up and away out of your face gently as you flashed your eyes up to look at him. He was looking straight back, eyes dark and lips parted as he let out shallow breaths and the look of pleasure on his face gave you a push to keep going.

‘Fuck, y/n. You look so fucking good baby’ he whimpered, letting you take control and do what you wanted to him.

You knew what he liked though, able to reduce him to a grunting mess in no time and without warning you felt him try to still your movements like usual when he was just about to let go but you fought him, continuing to bob up and down on him as you swallowed him down until he couldn’t take it anymore and pulled you off with a pop.

He didn’t say a word, simply hoisted you up and pulled you into his arms so he could hold you. The pair of content in each other's arms as the warm water washed away your sins. Only pulling back to give each other a soft kiss as you laughed at each other shyly.

‘Shall we get out? We’ll start looking like raisins soon’ he joked but you let him pull you out and wrap you in a towel before leading you back into your room and popping you down on the end of the bed whilst he found the pair of you some clothes to change into.

‘You okay there my love?’ He asked, drooping a kiss on your forehead as you let out a yawn when he placed one of his shirts and your shorts in your lap.

‘Just a little sleepy that’s all’ you smiled up at him, your head resting in his hand that he was using to support the side of your head and you smiled at each other softly.

‘Why don’t you have a nap then? I’ll go make dinner and check on Parker. I’ll come and get you when it’s done’

‘No Mase it’s fine’

‘Well I’m ordering you to take a nap missy’ he smiled, lightly pulling you up so he could help you get changed and once you were he pushed you down onto the bed before dropping a kiss on your cheek. ‘I’ll come wake you up soon okay?’

‘Okay’ you chuckled, snuggling down to hopefully get some rest. It had been a long day and even though you hadn’t done much you still felt exhausted. Hoping a quick Power Nap would set you up for the rest of the evening.

You were woken up by a strange tussling sound, your eyes opening ever so slightly so you could find the source of the noise and your eyes were on Mason immediately. His back was facing you as he played around with whatever was In his hands and you almost shut your eyes again until you saw what he was holding when he turned slightly.

A little black box.

A little black ring box.

It was open and you couldn’t see what was in it but you had a good guess from the soft smile on his face as he looked down into it. Suddenly the teasing from his family made sense as to why he had to double check that he’d packed everything and your whole body froze as you realised what this trip was for and Why he was so insistent on you picking somewhere that was special to you.

He wanted to make it even more special.

The snap of the box as he shut it made you jump but you shut your eyes immediately to make it look like you were asleep and only when Mason came over to try and wake you up did you look at him. Trying you hardest to pretend like you hadn’t seen what you just had.

‘Come on, miss sleeps a lot. If you don’t wake up now you won’t sleep tonight’ he told you softly, his lips pressing soft kisses all over your face until you opened your eyes to look at him. ‘There she is. Dinner won’t be long so I thought I’d get you up’ he murmured, placing one final kiss to your forehead before getting up to chase Parker out the door.

You were trying to act as natural as possible so he didn’t find out you knew his secret but he seemed to be acting just as oblivious as you were to the point you’d forgotten about it until the next night when you’d finally gone for dinner out somewhere nice.

The restaurant was small and quiet but it felt cosy and intimate as you sat and spoke about all your favourite parts of your little trip together. Laughing as you recalled the way he got so grumpy when he lost air hockey and the ridiculous way he’d looked in his flippers.

‘Thank you for a lovely weekend, Mase. I’ve had the best time’ you smiled and he smiled back just as warmly. A nervous look on his face slowly taking over his features before he gulped.

‘I have to’ he said quietly before stuffing his hand into his pocket. ‘There’s something I want to give you’ he whispered, placing his hand on the table before pushing a small black box in your direction.

It was the same one you’d seen him look at earlier when he thought you’d been asleep and your breath caught in your throat as your eyes met his.

‘Mase, what’s this?’

‘Open it and find out’ he whispered, nodding down to the box but you didn’t think you had the strength to do it. He was staring you down though so with shaking hands you lifted the box and opened it.

A small pair of studs sat in inside, little red hearts carved from some sort of gem whilst tiny little diamonds sat on the bottom of them. They were beautiful and you gasped as your eyes flew up to meet Mason's excited ones.

‘They’re garnets, my birthstone’ he told you softly, a shiver rolling through you at how thoughtful he’d been however these were the last things you expected to be in there. ‘Do you like them?’

‘I love them’ you smiled, trying to act as natural as possible and ignore the sinking feeling in your tummy. You felt a little silly for assuming it would be something else now but you didn’t want him to catch on to what you were thinking. Forgetting he could read you like a book and always had been able to.

‘You sure? You can be honest with me, I can take them back’

‘No, don’t be silly’ you laughed, placing the box on the table before standing up so you could plant a quick kiss on his lips. ‘Thank you, Mase. They’re beautiful’

‘You’re welcome’ he replied shyly, reaching for your hand as you sat down so he could link your fingers together.

‘I feel bad, I don’t have anything for you’

‘Oh shush’ he laughed, squeezing your hand as he gazed at you lovingly. ‘You being here is more than enough for me’ he told you honestly and you felt your heart thud at the shy look on his face. ‘I’m serious. I know it’s not long but I love getting to do stuff like this when we can’

‘Me too’ you whispered, pulling his hand up so you could kiss his knuckles and your heart soared at the deep blush that took over his cheeks.

After dinner you decided to head back to the house. Another night by the fire pit calling your name so you quickly got changed before grabbing Parker and the marshmallows so you could get seated and ready for Mason to join you on your last evening in your own little slice of paradise.

‘You gonna tell me what’s wrong now?’ He asked, falling into the seat next to you before taking your hands into his. ‘And don’t say it’s nothing cause I know there’s something’

‘Mase-‘

‘Is it the earrings? It’s really not that big of a deal if you don’t like them-‘

‘No Mase’ you laughed ‘look, see? I’ve got them in’ you smiled, showing him your ears and your heart warmed at the soft smile on his face.

‘Well what is it then? You seem… disappointed’ he noted and you hadn’t realised you’d been so transparent. Then again this was Mason, he could read you like an open book and you contemplated brushing it off but in the end you realised you should probably be honest with him.

‘I’m gonna sound insane when I tell you’

‘No you won’t’ he smiled reassuringly and you took one last big beep breath before explaining.

‘The box these came in, it looks very similar to a box another piece of jewellery comes in. At first I thought it was going to be something else’

He was looking at you like he had no idea what you were talking about until you suddenly saw it click in his brain. His lips forming an ‘o’ but you couldn’t look at him for much longer and you felt your cheeks start to burn.

‘I didn’t even think’

‘It’s not your fault’ you laughed

‘So you’re disappointed it wasn’t what you thought it was’

‘I guess so’ you laughed, feeling him tickle your sides lightly to try and cheer you up before looking at you a bit more seriously.

‘Is that something you’d want? You know, to get married?’ He asked tentatively but your warm smile made him visibly relax.

‘If it’s not you Mase, then it’s not gonna be anyone’ you told him truthfully, your heart thudding at how his face softened at your words. ‘I told you once I’d made peace with that fact I’d probably always be alone but that’s not what I want anymore’

‘I don’t want that for you either’ he laughed.

‘I feel like we know what we want our future to look like and marriage would just be the next step you know?’

‘Yeah, you’re right’ he smiled, wider than you’d ever seen him smile before and it made you want to carry on talking so he would keep smiling.

‘I want to spend my life with you, Mase. And I don’t mind what that looks like. At some point I’d like to get married but I don’t mind if that’s now or ten years down the line. We’ve already spoken about mini mounts and if it happens but I just wanna carry on like we are you know? Just doing life together. You me and Parker’

The way he was looking at you was making your head spin, you were hoping you hadn’t said anything too much or gone too far but the soft kiss he left on your lips melted you and you felt okay again.

‘We’ve come a long way huh? Never thought I’d hear you talk about having my kids when we first were getting to know each other’ he joked

‘Well is that what you want?’

‘It’s what I’ve always wanted’ he whispered, kissing your cheek softly. ‘Remember that first night I stayed at yours? I came round and we made cookies?’

‘I remember’ you smiled, images of you and him being cheeky in the kitchen rolling through your mind and you felt warm at the memory.

‘When I saw you’d put a picture of us on your fridge I told myself I was gonna marry you one day. I know it seems like a lifetime ago but you’ve had me since I first saw you. You know you’ve completely ruined me for anyone else don’t you?’ he smiled brightly before getting serious again. ‘Then when I nearly lost you after my injury, that first night you were home I didn’t sleep. Just held you and told myself I’d never let you slip through my fingers again’

‘You haven’t’ you laughed, fingers dancing over the back of his hand before threading your fingers together.

‘Everything you’ve just said is all I’ve ever dreamed of’ he told you softly, his glossy eyes looking over into yours before you kissed him softly. ‘We’re soulmates, me and you. I’ve known it for the longest time and I just love you with everything I have’

‘Love you, too’ you whispered back, fingers still stroking over his skin as his eyes flickered over your face. His sweet words replaying in your ears and you knew he was right. He was your soulmate, and you’d both been out on this earth to find each other. There was a strange look in his eye but you couldn’t quite pinpoint what it was and in the next second he was trying to move you out of his lap.

‘Wait here a sec, yeah? I’ll be one minute’ he told you, untangling himself from you before dashing inside. You weren’t sure where what was happening but he was quicker than you thought he’d be, the same excited smile on his face and he made you laugh as he came towards you with grabby hands. ‘Stand up for me’

‘Why?’ You laughed, eyeing him curiously but he wasn’t backing down so you took his outstretched hands, letting him pull you up before walking you to the other side of the fire where he pulled you into a big hug. ‘Did you just pull me up for a hug’ you laughed after a few seconds but when he pulled back you realised it was a hug of reassurance more than anything else, your eyes darting to Parker who was now watching you both with with his head slightly tilted to the side as if he was just as unsure of what was going on as you were.

‘I need you to just listen to me, yeah?’ He chuckled, pulling back so he could hold your hands and look deep into your eyes. ‘I was waiting for the perfect moment but being with you, every moment is perfect’ he told you softly, letting go of one on your hands so he could reach into his back pocket before taking a step back and kneeling down on one knee in front of you.

It’s like you’d gone into autopilot, not really believing what you were seeing as his big brown eyes looked up at you full of hope.

‘I love you, y/n y/l/n. So so much. I don’t wanna wait ten years when I’ve known for a very long time that you’re the one for me. I tell myself all the time the best decision I ever made was going for a walk at 1am cause it led me to you and I’d do it again a million times over. In this life and the next and all the other ones that come after it cause you’re it for me and I’m so lucky to have found you. Cause I feel like you were put there just for me to find. This, what we have, I want that every day for as long as I possibly can’ he told you finally bringing his arm forward to reveal another black box, but he opened it for you this time, the ring you were expecting at dinner now sat proudly inside and you felt a shiver run through you at the sight of it. ‘Will you marry me?’

You couldn’t speak, collapsing to your knees in front of him so you could wrap your arms around his neck and you felt him chuckle as he pulled you into his body. You were sobbing your little heart out, unable to control your emotions but you wanted to look at him again, pulling back so you could hold his face in between your hands and the tear marks down his cheeks only made you sob harder.

‘Are you s-sure?’ You laughed, watching him roll his eyes before pressing a soft kiss to your forehead.

‘Of course I’m sure, you big melon’ he laughed, squeezing your sides. ‘Come on, don’t leave me hanging. Is it a yes?’

‘It’s a yes’ you whispered, nodding your head furiously before pulling him towards you for a loving kiss. You could feel his relief pouring into you as you held onto each other like you might disappear. Only pulling back so you could rest your foreheads against each other to try and settle each other.

‘Can I put the ring on you now?’ He laughed after a moment of silence and you joined in with him, completely forgetting about the ring as you’d only spent half a second looking at it. You pulled away to look at each other but you couldn’t speak so you just nodded, watching in awe as he opened the box again to reveal the ring of your dreams.

You gasped lightly as he took it out, popping the box on the floor before taking your left hand with his seemingly shaky ones so he could slide the ring onto your ring finger and you were pleased to find it was the perfect size.

‘Do you like it? I can get it changed if you want-‘

You cut him off with a kiss, letting him know you loved it with your lips before pulling back to look into his warm eyes.

‘You could have proposed with a ready salted hula hoop and I still would have said yes’ you whispered, causing him to chuckle before pressing a light kiss to the tip of your nose.

‘I wish you would have told me that earlier. Would of saved me a lot of money’ he joked and you rolled your eyes before letting him help you up to stand. ‘Oh and before you ask, I got permission’

‘You spoke to my dad?’

‘No, Freya’ he winked, pulling you into a hug as you both laughed before he sat back to give you some air. ‘Parker look. Mummy and daddy are getting married’ Mason laughed, tapping his thighs so Parker would come over and join you and you laughed at his slow steps. Seemily unphased at how excited you were but you appreciated the face licks just the same.

You’d said it to each other tonight already, but you really couldn’t believe how far you and Mason had come. From not wanting to see him and ignoring his texts to sitting here with him now. The love of your life declaring he also wants to spend his life with you and you felt like the luckiest girl in the world. Everything the pair of you had been through, the good and the bad, had led you to here and you were so thankful to have finally found your home. The place and the person you belonged to.

After copious amounts of cuddling on the floor, Mason eventually moved you back to sit where you had been and you were holding onto him to dear life. Nothing felt real and you didn’t want to wake up from the dream you seemed to be in so you just held each other as you tried to contain your joy.

‘I can’t believe it’ you laughed, taking another glance at your ring before looking up into Mason's soft eyes.

‘The future Mrs Mount huh? Who would've ever thought’ ’

‘Not me’ you laughed, letting him wipe the last few tears from your face before placing a delicate kiss on your forehead. ‘I love you so much’

‘I love you too, my little mountaineer’

masonmount

liked by y/n, declanrice, freyaaaaxo and others

masonmount Left with a girlfriend, came home with a fiancée 🤍

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Y/n loml 🥺🩷 I can’t wait to spend the rest of my life with you

masonmount how’s the view from up here baby? 😉

Y/n beautiful 😘

Freyaaaaxo damn son that’s a fat rock 🤭 also I’m not crying you’re crying. CONGRATS MUM AND DAD 🥰

masonmount wouldn’t be here without you 🩷

declanrice my boys all grown up 🥺 love you bro

masonmount family ❤️

woody_ mate you’re punching

Y/n 😌

masonmount I’ll punch you in a minute

Freyaaaaxo Someone’s sleeping on the sofa tonight and it’s not Mason

sophiaaemelia watching the pair of you grow together has been so special. Congratulations my loves 🤍

Y/n miss you soph 🩷

benchilwell got my best man speech ready to go 😉

declanrice get in line

woody_ a trio of best men

lew.mount welcome to the family officially y/n! Proud of the pair you ❤️

masonmount love you brother ❤️

kaihavertz congratulations man 🤍 miss you guys

masonmount we miss you too

Tagged: @chaotic-taco-collector-blog @mm-vii @footiehoemcfc @masonmount07 @aundercover

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