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hawksugarbaby · 3 years

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Todoroki x male reader- Caramel and Honey

Fluff + Au where todoroki rebelled and never became a hero

Todoroki hummed to himself laying out the ingredients in front of him with his mixing bowl in the centre of the counter top, the mix of ingredients in organised lines from first to last except he was missing one ingredient.

It was soon to be your birthday, and todoroki being the gentleman as always was desperate to make you a cake as his local supplier. You deserved it for the kind smile you wore dropping of his orders at the back of the shop and hovering around for a few minutes to talk before disappearing into the wind again driving away in your van with (y/ln) Produce, stamped on the side of the van in big, black cursive.

He took over the shop from his mothers side of the family before she fell ill and had to go to hospital. not wanting anything to do with his disgusting father he chose to stay and manage the store of light pinks and pure whites. He heard your tires pulling up outside on the gravelly path and he opened the door for you to drop off your produce inside on the counters by the door.

"Hey Roki! How's it hanging, making anything special today?" you asked hauling a crate of freshly picked fruit for the season in and dropping it onto the steel top, wiggling under the weight and scooting forward a millimeter. "What do you consider special?" he asked bluntly helping you carry the boxes into the kitchen and put the items in their respective places.

Finally you brought in the cardboard box layered in bubble wrap filled with decorative jars of golden honey pockets of air suspended in the viscous liquid and Todoroki nodded happily in receiving everything he asked for. Sometimes you'd forget the blueberries, or the tea leaves or the bananas grown specially by your quirk. You grabbed a glass of honey flicking the lid open and dipped your finger into the glossy amber tasting it yourself.

"Something special? I would love a rustic honey cake. Just the way mum used to make it with our honey. Not the dumb store bought stuff, the stuff we make ourselves. With the bee's we lovingly care for, for a reason!" you shout but it was muffled by you sucking the honey off of your finger.

Todoroki wiped his chin and cleared his throat "you've got some... there's uh... like a little" you looked up at him and touched your chin the sticky threads of honey clinging to your hand. "Shit" you tutted and wiped it away with the heel of your hand getting that just as sticky as the rest of you. "Well this is embarrassing" you sighed and todoroki exhaled quickly, which was close enough to a laugh to make you smile. "Here" he ran a tea towel under the warm tap and wiped it over your chin and pressed it into your hand for you to clean your hands yourself.

He felt his own face light up red and grabbed a cup of blueberries in preparation for the blueberry muffins he would bake today and you blinked a few time's rebooting your brain after the short interaction making you flustered.

You wiped your hands down and neatly folded the towel over the side of the sink and shook your head clearing the busy, buzzing thoughts from your head and drew your eye's away from him focusing on the calendar hanging next to the wall. Delivery, nothing, delivery, nothing, delivery + (y/n) Birthday. You grinned and pointed to the red circle around the familiar number on the calendar and twisted your neck to watch him stir ingredients together into a pale yellow batter.

"You remember my birthday?" you quizzed and he nodded furiously beating the whisked eggs into the mixture and poured in the cup of indigo berries fresh from the bush. "Hey are you busy right now?" Todoroki asked moving on from the topic of your birthday and lifted his eyes from your strong arms he'd seen carry so many boxes of fruit, to your joy filled (e/c) orbs sparkling happily at the prospect of him. HIM. remembering your birthday.

"I can be not busy?" you raise your palms to the popcorn roof and flick out your phone calling a coworker. "Hey Bro, could you perchance come get the van from the Todoroki Bakery and deliver the rest of the products?" you ask and pushed the phone to your ear with your shoulder and mouthed 'frozen fruit' to todoroki and you quirked an eyebrow. He nodded to the bottom drawer.

"No I dropped a crate on my foot carrying the peaches into the shop and It hurts to walk on it I dunno how driving would go" you chuckle nervously and wink to todoroki who just looked back down at his muffins filling the white, paper cases not quite understanding. "No, I know it's so unlike me! But it's okay, Todoroki said he'd give me a lift home but can you just do the rest of the rounds?"

Your brother agreed and you said your bye's on the phone. "I now have the entire day off" you said proudly and leaned your elbows on the counter admiring todoroki's fluffy hair straying further from the style it was originally in while he pushed the baking tray into the oven. "Wait but I should check your foot if you hurt it" he said crouching down and pressing his cold hands against your ankle making you flinch "no I didn't really hurt my foot I just needed to get out of work" you chuckle.

"Oh okay. Will your dad believe that, aren't you supposed to be the big strong son?" Todoroki craned his neck up to look at you still resting with one knee on the floor and the other pulled up like he was going to propose. You lost yourself in your thoughts again imagining that instead of his hand on your foot he was holding out a small grey box with a gleaming band tucked into the cushion.

"Hey what the fuck is this?" your brother laughed at the scene in the kitchen and you whipped your head up to see him leaning against the door frame uncaringly. "Uhh todoroki was checking if my foot was swollen or anything. No evidence of broken bones yet! So you should just get going with the van here are my keys!!" you said hopping over like a professional actor and shoved the keys into his hand. "Mhm i'm sure that's what it was. OUTSIDE!" he shouted at you pulling you round the corner clipping your arm on the wooden pallets leaning against the wall out back scraping up inside your elbow.

"Hey what the hell, that hurt!" you shouted lightly tapping the bleeding scratched that didn't seem to want to stop bleeding. "Look I know you like that todoroki kid but you can't just skip work to spend the day with him!" your brother turned around and looked at your face, mouth agape and eye's furrowed into annoyance and he shrugged "what i'm just being hon-" "ARE YOU BLIND OR STUPID!?" you shouted back thrusting your profusely bleeding forearm in his face.

"Oh shit what! are you feeling okay?" he panicked suddenly drawing Todoroki's attention and he poked his head out the back door. Being the observant boy he was, his eyes went wide and he jogged over to where you were standing and wiped the blood away with the already honey covered tea towel but the crimson immediately started pouring out again. "He needs an ambulance" the dual haired baker tightly wrapped the tea towel around your arm which was quickly soaked in red.

You moaned in pain and annoyance feeling your head spin. "What could he have cut his arm on?" your brother asked and you held your hand out in front of his face snapping your fingers closed against your thumb shutting him up. "There's a huge fucking rusty nail... on the pallet you dragged me past you dickhead" you huffed. The ground span and swayed around you and the brightness in your vision was turned down so you could barely see the outlines of the boys surrounding you.

And then you were on the floor.

And then you were in the hospital. Staring at the white plaster ceiling at midnight with no one by your side. "Huh" you hummed and checked your phone hissing at the brightness lashing the dark hospital room.

todoroki was in the shop with a bowl and cake pan next to him. The jar of honey you scooped from open and his phone laying open waiting for your answer to his text.

You replied to the questions he asked and Todoroki's phone buzzed on the steel countertop and he perked up immediately reaching for the electronic, slowly running out of battery.

Roki 💖🍰

Hey are you okay?

Fri 12:18

Do you like pistachios?

Oh also raisins, do you like raisins?

Probably not, no one likes raisins

I like raisins...

Anyway. Text me when you see this

Fri 18:35

Roki 💖🍰

I hope you wake up.

I wasn't supposed to get a delivery from you today

But I wish I was cause I like seeing you

You make my heart feel... weird.

Good weird

Sat 8:44

Still don't know if you like raisins and pistachios

Sat 12:27

Roki 💖🍰

It's your birthday tomorrow you know.

Sorry I didn't text yesterday but you were sleeping anyway

How can you catch tetanus so quickly

It's supposed to take 4 days dumbass.

You got it in like 1. You fainted because of the blood btw

Mon 13:21

Please just wake up for your birthday.

I have something special for you

But I need to know if you like pistachios and raisins

Mon 14:56

Roki 💖🍰

Happy Birthday (y/n)

Tue 00:00

You chuckled to yourself at the sweet messages todoroki sent you over the course of the days and glanced at the clock. "I wonder if he's still awake" you croaked and wiped your eyes from sleep then yawned filling your waterline with unnecessary tears.

Bumblebee 🍯

Hey Roki. I'm up

I like/don't like pistachios

And I like/don't like raisins

Sorry for worrying you. Promise I won't get anymore tetanus

I'm going back to sleep

Come visit tomorrow

today*

Sent

Tue 4:13

"You better not be awake dumbass" you mumbled and turned over on your pillow burying your face into the uncomfortable pancake for your head.

Seen

Tue 4:15

The baker smiled and finally started working on his surprise for you chopping his toppings and thinly slicing/ throwing away his toasted pistachios and crunching on a few raisins while working.

At 2pm he walked in and went to visit you with his surprise balancing carefully in your hand. He carefully tiptoed to your bedside and pushed your side slightly. You snorted and rolled over, opening your eye's to an amused todoroki settling himself into the chair next to your bed. "Something smells great" you muttered pushing your face back into the pillow and smiling. "Thank you for visiting" you muffled and todoroki chuckled nodding.

"Happy birthday" he smiled pulling the foil off of the top of your surprise. You peaked your eyes open and sat up smiling brightly. "I didn't know how your mum made it but I made my own recipe" he scratched the back of his head and moved to sit next to you on the mattress. He wrapped his arm around your shoulder and kissed your cheek lightly before you could take off the handheld slice you were slowly lifting to your mouth.

"My heart feels weird around you" he sighed and thumped his forehead against your shoulder and you snickered, taking a soft bite of the sticky, nostalgic cake in your grasp. "I know. Thank you for the little updates by the way, very sweet of you" you emphasised the sweet as a pun on the honey cake but of course, it flew over todoroki's head. "But yeah. Thank you for the cake it's delicious" you complimented and leaned your head on his. "Can I go back to sleep now?" you joked and he smiled and pressed you down by your hard chest and lay on top of you. "Just don't sleep for 4 days again" he mumbled nestling into your t'shirt.

You stared down at the parting in his hair with huge, round eye's and put your hands on his back, grasping them together in a hug-ish type thing. "Okay"

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midnighter13 · 3 years

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the world in mutable delight

Y'all I'm so full of feelings. So many of them. Anyway I've been shouting about Caleb using his Transmuter's Stone on Molly to anyone who will listen for actual years so now, please have more soft pre-widomauk feelings about it.

Read on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/31672169

The process of recovery, Caleb knows, can be a strange one. Of course, there is hardly anyone stranger than the singular Mollymauk Tealeaf, to begin with. Between the circumstances of his deaths, his lives, and all the magic that brought him back to them, it is hardly a surprise that he needs some time to gather up all the patchwork pieces of himself again. Caleb has no doubt that he will reclaim everything he wishes to, in time; after all, he has never known anyone better at creating beauty from shattered glass. The massive stained-glass tribute within his tower is as close as Caleb could come to capturing the artistry with which Molly created his style and his life and his whole self, and seeing him in vivid, vibrant life again has reminded Caleb that even his best effort could never possibly do him justice.

It is best that way, though. Mollymauk Tealeaf should never be captured in something so still as glass, so static as paint. A whirling dervish of color and laughter and terrible ideas and sheer wonder needs a living canvas to flourish, and thanks to a miracle, he has that chance again.

One day soon perhaps, Caleb would like to ask Molly about the decor of the tower. He is still fond of his best effort, the beauty that Molly’s memory lends to his library, but it needn’t be the same forever. It would be equally wonderful to listen to Mollymauk create something new, to see if Caleb can create with magic what Molly’s endless font of color and bullshit can imagine.

… Of course, that would require Caleb to overcome the way his mind goes blank every time he thinks about approaching Molly. There are so many things he wants to say, needs to say where Molly can hear him this time, but he doesn’t seem to have the language to express the maelstrom of emotions trapped inside his chest. There is so much happiness and relief and affection and amusement and delight and and and—

And it is all stopped at the back of his throat by the sharp point of the memory that springs up every time, the fact that the manifestation of all of Caleb’s magic, all of his drive and talent and hope and hunger, failed when Molly needed him. Again. Nine months ago, on Glory Run Road, Caleb’s magic was not enough to keep him alive. And two days ago, in the crumbling city in the Astral Sea, Caleb’s magic was not enough to bring him back.

So. There are a few things he must grapple with himself, before he can indulge in everything he wants to say to Molly.

It has been fairly easy to hang back, so far. He has managed to distance himself enough from the celebrations to keep from spilling his heart across the ground at Mollymauk’s feet. Simply looking at him, vibrant and energetic again, is enough to sustain him—simply hearing his voice, the handful of words he speaks with endless inflections, is a feast when he has been starving. So Caleb stands a handful of feet away at all times, and watches the rest of his family hug and touch and reconnect until his eyes go dry.

The first night of their return to the Material Plane would have been no good, anyway. With how tired they all are, how nearly broken and still very bruised each and every body among them is, it is not the time to show Molly around the whole tower. There will be time for that later, always time for that later, to his greatest elation—later, he will take Molly by the hand and show him everything that he built, every piece of his heart that he conjures to house his friends, his family. He will show him that no matter the time that passed, he kept Molly safe in his mind and gave him a place here, always waiting for him to come home.

But that will have to wait until Caleb’s hands no longer shake with the phantom weight of his Transmuter’s Stone; and besides, he would have to wait anyway until Molly and Yasha willingly part from each other, and those two certainly have shown no signs of budging from each other’s sides, not through the exhausted pile the (whole, finally whole) Mighty Nein slept in that first night, nor at meals with the welcoming Clay family the next day, nor the hours full of odd conversation and new acquainting and re-familiarizing that followed. There has been plenty to occupy Molly upon his return, more than enough to let Caleb sit outside of arm’s reach and drink in everyone else’s stories, and pretend that his heart has not leapt every time Molly’s bright, lively eyes have turned to him and lingered in return.

Now, basking in the afternoon sun on the second bright day since their family saved the world and was made whole, Caleb knows that he should be taking more action to recover his arcane stores. But each time he tells himself that he will get up and look for a suitable stone, his throat becomes tight again. He makes excuses to Essek, to Veth, when they ask: they are safe here in the Grove so he does not need the protection it grants him; they are among a family that seems very partial to glowing crystals as light sources, so he is in no rush to regain the darkvision he lost with the Eyes; why bother to make himself quicker to move, when they are all enjoying a well-earned rest? Neither of them question him further on it, though there is deep understanding in Essek’s eyes and a shrewd worry in Veth’s. They let him lie back and look up at the endlessly-shifting canopy of green, and try to reorganize his thoughts in peace.

Someone, however, does not abide by that peace. Only a half-hour into his meditation, and having made very little progress in unsnarling his tangled heart, Caleb hears the soft sound of bare feet on moss approach, and stop beside him. When he turns his head, there, of course, is Mollymauk.

“Magician,” Molly says firmly, and plunks himself down on the ground beside Caleb’s head. He settles in, wiggling his toes in the moss. One foot has nails freshly painted in bright teall, the other in charming pink. Both colors, of course, suit him perfectly. Then he says, “Mister Caleb,” with a widening grin, and Caleb’s breath catches once more in his throat.

“Hallo, Mister Mollymauk,” he says in return, the smallest greeting that settles sweetly on his tongue. He pushes himself upright, and turns to face Molly in kind. “Your words are returning to you, it seems.”

“Some,” Molly says, and the word that is not empty is accompanied by a decisive little nod. It takes effort, it seems, but Mollymauk has always been an obstinate individual. Regaining all his words may be like trying to pick up pieces of confetti one at a time, but if Mollymauk wants them back he will have the time to do so now. And hopefully, his friends can continue to help.

“That is very good to hear,” Caleb replies, and he cannot stop the smile that spreads across his face at Molly’s pleased expression.

“Magician,” Molly repeats, and holds out a closed fist between them. Caleb hesitates, unsure if this is a greeting or a request—then Molly shakes his hand a little, impatiently, and Caleb obligingly holds out his own open palm beneath it. Mollymauk’s tail swishes in broad strokes behind him, and he opens his hand to drop something into Caleb’s palm.

A blue-grey stone the size of a hen’s egg hits his palm with a soft sound. There is no ring around this one like his first, but when it catches the light it sparkles with countless tiny deposits of mica, glittering like stars. Caleb blinks at it, then up at Mollymauk. “Ah… thank you?”

“Magician,” Molly insists; then, after a pause, “lucky,” accompanied by that little flicker of his fingers that he used many times before, whenever he mentioned how little he understood about magic or asked Caleb if he could cast a spell. And perhaps it is not elegant, no kind of official communication that even a Comprehend Language could parse, but Caleb understands him perfectly, and his throat stings as though he might cry.

“Oh,” he says, and stares down at the stone in his hand. “Th-thank you, Molly. How did you know…?”

“Joy—” Molly clears his throat, a quick little cough and a wrinkle of his nose that spells frustration with his voice. “Jester,” he says carefully, clearly, “told me. What—hmm. Happened. Empty—”

He takes a deep breath, seems to gather his thoughts. He reaches out and closes Caleb’s fingers around the rock in his palm. “Empty,” he says again, softer now. Then he says, “Caleb,” and brings his hand up and presses his lips to Caleb’s fingers.

Caleb’s heart is nearly tripping with how quickly it hums. His ears are hot, and he knows that the afternoon sun cannot be to blame in the pleasant shade of the Grove. “Molly,” he says, helplessly. “Molly, I—I’m sor—”

Molly’s tail smacks gently into his knee. His eyes narrow as he looks up at Caleb, somewhere between playful and warning. Caleb swallows hard. He takes in the sight of Mollymauk’s face before him, and memorizes the new weight of the stone in his hand.

“Ja, okay,” he manages. “I can use this, Molly. Thank you.”

“Ja, ja,” Molly says, grinning wide and cheeky once again, and the laugh that bursts from Caleb feels like lightness, like relief, like forgiveness.

Molly is still smiling at him, his tail tapping softly against the moss. He releases Caleb’s hand from his grasp, the stone safely inside. Then he puts one hand up and crooks his finger at Caleb, in a universal gesture of come here.

Obligingly, Caleb leans forward, narrowing the space between them and trying very hard not to blush all the way to the roots of his hair. Molly puts his hand on the side of Caleb’s face—warm, his touch is so warm and firm and real again. It’s almost enough to distract him, enough that it takes him by surprise when Molly leans forward and kisses him firmly on the forehead. Then he lingers there, and Caleb lets his eyes close just for the moment as he memorizes the feeling of being here, with Mollymauk Tealeaf, safe and happy once more.

When Molly sits back, he folds his hands in his lap, contentment written so plainly across his face that he hardly needs the words to say it. Caleb thinks of five things he could say, a dozen, a hundred possibilities like fragments of fate. But Molly only has so many words to give, and it is better, for right now, that Caleb can speak his language in return.

He holds up his free hand and crooks his finger at Mollymauk in the same gesture of come here. Molly’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise, and his tail patters rapidly against his shin—but he leans forward, a smile lurking at the corners of his lips, just enough to show the dimples in his cheeks and the light dancing in his eyes. Caleb puts his hand to Molly’s cheek, and gives in to the temptation to run his thumb gently along the vibrant peacock feather there. Molly’s smile grows wide, showing teeth and crinkling the corners of his eyes, as Caleb leans forward and presses his lips gently to Molly’s forehead. He holds him there for a long moment, savoring the warmth of his skin and the once-again inescapable whiff of sandalwood and incense.

Words are few and far between, right now, but words are not the only thing they need. For now there is touch, and there is warmth, and there is magic, and there is Molly. And for anything else, there will be time for that later.

#Mollymauk Tealeaf #Caleb Widogast #widomauk #critical role #critical role spoilers #c2ep140 spoilers #critfic #fanfiction #my writing #Mollymauk Tealeaf/Caleb Widogast #I'M FULL OF FEELINGS ABOUT THAT TRANSMUTER'S STONE FOLKS #FULL OF FEELINGS ABOUT WIDOMAUK AGAIN #HAVE A WEE BIT OF ANGST WITH MORE JOY ANF FLUFF

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btsmakesmehappy · 4 years

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Palate Cleanser | 1

Genre: Agent au, friends with benefit (sort of), Stranger to lover, Angst, Fluff, Eventual Smut

Pairing: Agent!Taehyung x Baker!reader

Word Count: 5,6k

Rating: 18+ (M)

Warning: broken heart, cursing.

Chapter: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 completed

Summary: Taehyung needs something to take his mind off his broken heart. His best friend, Jimin, suggests that he should meet another woman and the first woman he met was you. Would you help him even though you have your own problem, that you hate men?

a/n: Hello again! This mini series is a continuation from Broken Vase. You can read it as as a standalone, but it’s better if you read it first for better understanding! As always, english is not my first language, so I would really appreciate if you give me correction or any suggestion. Please tell me if you want to be added on the taglist!

Also this is gonna be a part of The Company series (Click it for agents’ description!). Please look forward for it!

Taehyung walks mindlessly in the city. It is already noon, but still, he doesn’t want to go back to the company. The sun shines brightly like it is mocking him. And how the roads are full of couples, it is like hell to him. He hates it. He wants to be with someone too. Someone whose hand he can hold in the middle of a busy street. Not just someone, but someone he truly loves. That particular one who chooses Namjoon over him. He knows that the girl loves Namjoon deeply. He always knows it. Yet he refuses to acknowledge it. He thought that if he stays with her by her side, she will reciprocate his feelings. But it is just a mere hope. Love is not that simple.

His phone vibrates inside his pocket. He looks at it only to find Jimin is calling him. “What do you want, chim?” He then moves to the sidewalk, to take the call. His back leans onto a brick wall.

“Hello to you too. Where the fuck are you? The meeting is in 5 minutes, you know!” Jimin yells from the telephone. Taehyung taps his foot impatiently, waiting for Jimin to stop his blabbering. “Just come here fast!”

Taehyung interrupts, “I am not coming.”

There is silence on the phone and when Taehyung wants to turn his phone off, Jimin yells again. “Are you crazy? The meeting is about our mission in Hawaii. All of the agents who worked in it must be present. Our boss and that girl are gonna ask me about you.”

Taehyung can feel his heart stop for a bit after hearing about that girl. The girl he loves. But still, he doesn’t want to meet her. He is not ready. She will be together with Namjoon in the meeting. A sight he never wants to see. “Just act like you don’t know anything! I am hanging up!” Taehyung hangs up before Jimin replies back. He then turns his phone off and puts it again inside his pocket.

Yes, he thinks that it is not professional for him to avoid Namjoon and the girl. He doesn’t hate them, Hell no. Namjoon is one of his best friends and so does she. But he still needs a moment to mourn, to finally moving on. He sighs and walks again. His stomach grumbles. He hasn’t eaten anything since yesterday. He doesn’t even believe it himself. He thinks that only women will have anorexic as a breakup phase. But it seems, losing appetite applied for every human being who is brokenhearted.

His feet stop in front of a small bakery. It has a blue color outside and yellow inside, a rare combination since some people think that blue is not an appetizing color. He decides to buy some bread and eat it in the park, he is not in the mood of any rice right now. He just needs something to fill his empty stomach. The bell in the door rings as he opens it.

He is welcomed by delicious smells of freshly-baked bread. He takes a tray and walks around. Somehow the smells make his stomach growls even louder. After many considerations, he chooses a bread with red bean paste and butter and also an egg sandwich. He also takes a coke from the chiller and walks to the cashier.

He puts the tray in the cashier and his eyes wandering around the small bakery. The bakery itself is cozy, with some corners full of cute photo spots. There is only some seating area in front of the cashier. Taehyung is nodding at the rhythm of the music when his eyes dart at a little placard with a hand-written scribble beside the cashier.

Girls get 50% off

Taehyung frowns his brows and asks. “Why do only girls get 50% off?”

You raise your head. “Because all men are trash.” You reply dryly.

Taehyung gawks with that sudden explanation. “I’m sorry, what?”

Just before you say anything to the random guy, someone hit your head. “What the fuck, Hani? Why did you hit me?” you touch your head and look at another girl, Hani, who holds a rolling pin in her hand.

Hani then grabs the placard and tears it into pieces. “How many times did I tell you not to use this stupid ‘girl only’? You want us to go bankrupt?” She then throws it into the trash can. Hani turns to the man in the suit in front of them. “I am really sorry sir.”

“Why? I said the truth!” you shrug. Hani then glares at you, which shuts you up. “Fine. You handle this then.” you then walk to the back, to the kitchen, while Hani handles the cashier.

Taehyung is flabbergasted. His eyes following your back. What a weird girl. “So, how much?”

Hani then smiles, “2700 won. Would you want to pay with cash or card?” Taehyung gives her an exact amount. “Oh, this is a free cookie for you. It’s a new recipe.”

Taehyung takes the paper bag and nods politely. “Thank you.”

“Thank you! Please come again!” She yells to the girl as Taehyung walks out of the door. He can hear how the weird girl is being yelled at. Somehow he finds it amusing and funny, not at all weird.

He walks to the nearby park and sits on the bench. He puts the paper bag beside him. He looks at the bag. Palate Cleanser. A weird name for a bakery. It should be used for an ice cream parlor or that kind of stuff, but instead, they use it in a goddamn bakery. Well, not only the people working there are weirdos, the bakery itself is weird too.

He chuckles. Taehyung loves unusual stuff. He was once scolded by the higher-ups when he showed up in the Company in a pajama set and the other time in a suit with some doodles on the back. It is just his fashion sense, and everybody in the Company just looked at him like he was crazy. Why can't he be the unique one? It’s not that he bothers anyone with his habit nor his fashion sense. He opens the sandwich first and bites it. Not bad. Maybe he will come to that weird bakery again.

“What the fuck, Y/n? You almost scared him away!” Hani yells at you. She puts her hand on her hips. It may be the fifth time she yelled at you about this, this week.

You shrug. “So what? That is my intention anyway.” You open the kitchen cabinet and pull out a sack of flour, chocolates, caramel, and a bottle of peanut butter.

She pinches the bridge of her nose. “He just wanted to buy some bread for god sakes. Not making a move at you!”

You look away and walk to the kitchen island to make another batch of cookies. “Men still are trash.” You said as you rolled your sleeves.

Hani just shakes her head. “Not all men are trash.”

“They are!” you yell. “You lucky you found a good one.”

“Enough with the stubbornness!” She sighs. “Fine then, just think like that. But don’t you ever put that placard again! People would think that this bakery is a lesbian crib, you fucker.” Hani stomps her foot to the front, leaving you alone in the kitchen.

You sigh. I hope I am a lesbian, maybe It’s just better that way. You begin to measure the cookie ingredients. Your mind wanders freely as your hands work. You have done this for almost 5 years now, and you can measure a basic cookie dough subconsciously.

It’s because of Youngjae.

It was maybe the lowest point in your life. You found Youngjae naked in the bed with your college friend who you thought was your best friend. But frankly, she was just a bitch. Youngjae was your boyfriend for 3 years, you dated him in the last year of high school. He was kind, handsome, and smart, basically a grade-A boyfriend. You thought you were blessed for having a nice boyfriend. You gave all of you to him. But apparently, he cheated you all the time in your relationship. For 3 fucking years.

You are glad that you have a nice family and friends to help you through it. You cried, starved yourself, and did not take a bath for weeks in your break up. Hani is one of your friends that supports you in that hard time. Instead of just depressed and sad, she helped you move on. She was the one who printed huge ass banners that said ‘Youngjae got herpes’ with his photo and stuck it on every surface in your college. It probably cost you some dates but you were happy and satisfied. You were relieved that you got out of that unhealthy relationship. But still, you despise all of the men in this world.

You studied hard after that, took patisserie classes, not bothered by guys and dating. You get on your feet and finally, you open a bakery in the middle of the city with your best friend. It is like a successful revenge. Even that jerk ruined your life, you still have your best friend and a great job that you have always dreamt of.

You always love baking since you are just a little kid. You love the moment when you wait in front of the oven. You love to see how all the raw ingredients turn into an edible one. And you love to give your food to people, you love seeing their reaction. There was even a time when you made bread with a miso paste fillings. It was a horrible combination that made Hani and your family throw up. But you love trying new things, or just watching them trying your disgusting food.

You put the cookies in the oven. This time you made a batch of sumbitches, cookies filled with peanut butter, chocolate, and caramel. It is your bakery’s special and most favorite one because your customers are mostly girls. Who says that the girls need love? Well, who needs love if you can eat chewy, sweet, salty, and crunchy fresh baked cookies while watching Netflix?

Taehyung decides to go back to the Company after his lunch. He is racking his brain to avoid the other guys. He looks at his watch. The meeting should be over in an hour. He better moves faster. He speed-walks to his cubicle, nodding at everyone in his way. It is not that he has a job to do. He hasn’t got a new mission yet, so he basically can slack around. He sits on his chair. It’s been a while since he moved back to this city. He always chose to be located in other countries as an asset. He loves to interact with new people and to be in a new environment, not stuck in this tiny cubicle in a suit. But after that Hawaii Mission, the boss orders him to return to the head office, and well, he can’t refuse. Even Yoongi, who was an asset in Hawaii, ordered his return too.

He moves his chair around. He is bored. Maybe he is going to ask Jungkook to play with him. Oh but Jungkook is at the meeting. He sighs as he props his hand under his chin.

“Tae! Where have you been?” It’s the voice he wants to avoid the most. She walks to his cubicle with her bag on her shoulder. He can see the scar on her cheek is not as red as before, since it was from two weeks ago. “You are lucky, the Boss didn’t ask for you!”

He smiles sheepishly. “Ah, right. I kinda forget. So how is the meeting?”

She looks at him suspiciously and puts her arms across her chest. “Yoongi found that Ji Seok had contacted some people before he came to Hawaii. So, we need to investigate them. They sound suspicious from what Yoongi told us before. We thought that they might be the newest members of the Black.”

He tilts his head. “I’m sorry. We?” He is fine with another job to save him from boredom, but to work with her again? It’s just uncomfortable.

She laughs, “Oh, I am sorry. I mean you, Yoongi, Jin, Jimin, and Hoseok. Everyone except me and Namjoon. Can you believe that?”

Taehyung raises one of his eyebrows. At some point, he feels relief that he won’t work with her. “What? Why?”

“Namjoon is getting his ‘punishment’ and sent away to teach the recruits and as for me, I have finally decided to go on therapy.” She smiles proudly.

His jaw drops, “Oh my God! I am so glad you decided to do that!” He stands and hugs her tightly. “What makes you change your mind?”

She returns the hug. “Well, Namjoon kinda talked me into it. I was afraid I would get fired, at first. But he told me that if I get fired, he will leave too.” She laughs. “And after that, I gathered all of my courage to tell our Boss. Fortunately, he doesn’t fire me and encourages me to go to therapy. They told me to think about myself first.”

He gulps and gives a faint smile. “I am so happy for you.”

She then releases his hug. “I want to talk to you more, but I must go to my first session. Talk to you soon, okay?” she then waves and walks to the tall man standing beside the door. The tall man smiles and then puts his arms behind her back and walks with her happily. She never smiles like that before and if Namjoon is the only one who can make her happy, he will gladly let her go. Even if his heart aches whenever he sees her with Namjoon, he will be happy for her. He tries to be happy for her.

He needs to move on. He must let her go.

He drowns in his thoughts, not realizing Jimin walks to him. “Hey, bro. How are you?” Jimin has always been his best friend. They both went to college together and finally decided to work in the same place, Taehyung works in the field area, whereas Jimin works as a handler. Her handler. And Jimin was the one who introduced her to Taehyung.

Taehyung sighs. “So-so.”

Jimin pats his shoulder. “I know. You are doing good, by the way. I am so proud of you.” Jimin always knows about Taehyung’s love for her. It’s not that he is not supporting it, but Jimin has always known that the girl loves Namjoon, since a long time ago. Basically, he is stuck in between helping Taehyung, his best friend, or helping the girl. But love is not that simple, and can’t be controlled with a mere human being like him. It just goes with the flow like a log in the river. And unlucky for Taehyung, the log flows to another stream. “Just tell me if you want to hit the strip club okay? Hoseok is waiting for it too.”

“Haha. Yeah right.” Taehyung shrugs. “Maybe next couple of years.”

“Dude. Why are you so pessimistic about it? You are going to move on soon.”

Taehyung glares at him. “I have loved her for 3 years, okay? It’s not that simple to unlove someone you love.”

Jimin sighs. “You know what? I think you need a palate cleanser.”

Taehyung knits his brows. “What? Why do I need that bakery?”

“What bakery?” He asks back. “No, what I mean is you need some sex to help you get over her! And then you can get ready for a new one.”

“So, you suggest that I should hook up with a prostitute?” He crosses his arms across his chest, finding Jimin’s suggestion to be amusing. Amusing as Jimin who is a hopeless romantic and has been in love with his childhood friend since he was a kid suddenly told him to get a one night stand.

“Eww. No! Just look for a girl, you stupid. Hang out more.”

Taehyung chuckles. “Shouldn’t it be easier to find a prostitute?”

Jimin’s nose scrunches in disgust. “If you say a prostitute again, I won’t ever talk to you.” He then drops a binder on Taehyung’s desk. “Anyway, this is the data for our mission. Jin said that we would have a meeting tomorrow, so you should study it. Oh, did I mention that I am joining the fieldwork too? Finally, I don’t need to stay in front of my computer. I am so thrilled!”

“Wow, congrats bro.” Taehyung pats his shoulder and takes the binder and opens it. “But you should practice your gun skill more then.”

“Right! I think I will practice after this. Alright then, if you need other data just tell me, okay? I’ll see you soon.” Jimin then walks away.

Taehyung drifts his attention to the binder. It looks like there are 3 suspects. They have been contacted by Ji Seok for at least ten times in the last 3 months before Ji Seok is caught. The First suspect is Byun Baekhyun, he went to the same college with Ji Seok, now working in a restaurant in the city. The contacts all happened in his restaurant, with no telephone trace. The second suspect is Park Chanyeol, he lived in the same neighborhood with Ji Seok. He now works as a journalist in a food magazine, last seen with Ji Seok at a work party. The last suspect is Jung Eunji, she has no connection with Ji Seok, but her credit card was used to buy a plane ticket to Hawaii.

His forehead furrows. There is still not enough data to capture them, which means they needed to go to the field to investigate. Another troublesome mission. But at least, he won’t be stuck in front of his computer.

It is the morning. You wake up lazily. You are not a morning person. Even though you have a job which requires you to go to work at 6 am for years, you still go to bed after midnight. You always have other activities that make you busy, either you watch movies or read books. Well, not books. You have been using Tumblr for almost 10 years now. That application has occupied your browser history for almost 10 years, and that is the only reason why people never get to see your phone, there are too many links to your favorite smut authors. There is no way people can see that. Basically it’s just like porn, but you always think that it is more than that. Smut is just full of artistic things too. You love how the author writes such a poetic description of humping with emotional touches which make you cry until 2 in the morning. Well, you did other stuff too besides crying. Let’s just say that not only your face is wet.

You take a quick shower before you go to work. You wrap your body in a towel and pick your clothes for today in the closet. You never go to work in classy clothes, usually, you just wear a t-shirt and jeans, you have to change into your kitchen clothes later after all. You wear your black t-shirt and your ripped jeans quickly, then after tying your hair into a messy bun, you grab your jacket and your purse on the couch. You should go now if you don’t want to be late, or getting scolded by Hani. You shudder in reflex.

It is still chilly in the morning. You keep thinking to yourself, why you hate morning so much when you love the morning weather and how empty the road is, like you own it. You yawn. Well, you hate the wake-up part in the morning. You hate to leave the comfort and the warmth of your blanket.

The walk from your apartment to your bakery is not that long. You are lucky to find such an affordable apartment in the middle of the city. It is small, but it is still livable and pretty. It is close to many things, like the market, train station, and even your bakery. It is a pity you don’t live with Hani. You were going to be Hani’s roommate when you first moved to the city, but now she lives with his boyfriend, Jackson. That’s why, when you first saw the ad of your apartment, you called it without any further thinking.

You arrive at the bakery as you sigh in relief for not seeing Hani’s head inside. Lucky to you, she won’t scold you for this morning. You unlock the door and go straight to your locker room to change your clothes. You then skillfully sweep, mop, and wash all the dishes. And after an hour, you begin to prepare your today’s bread. It’s just your usual menu in your bakery. While you are preparing the dough, your mind wanders, where the hell is Hani?

It’s almost 9 am, and you still can’t find Hani anywhere. You wanted to call her, but as clumsy as you are, you left your phone in your apartment. So you just hope that Hani is fine but her ass will not because you are gonna kick her ass for letting you prepare the bread alone. You sigh as you walk to the front door to turn the sign to ‘Open’.

It has always been a hectic morning for two people to make, display the bread, and handle the customers. And now you are the only one here. It is basically like a war. You still feel lucky, to have people loving your bread. But after 2 hours of working alone, you are admitting defeat. You change the sign on the door to ‘Still baking’ and run to the kitchen to bake some more. It is the only thing you could think of right now. All the bread this morning has already sold out, after all. You are never a multi-tasking girl. So it seems fair for you to work in this type of situation or you will go insane.

Your next batch of bread is already in the oven, and you finally can take a breather. You look at your clock on the wall, it’s almost noon, and Hani is still nowhere to be seen. You begin to worry, but it’s not like you can leave the bakery alone. Then the bell on the door rings. You almost run to the front to yell at Hani for coming so late, but instead Hani, it is a guy.

It’s a guy from yesterday.

He wears a different suit from yesterday, now he is wearing a navy one. His curly hair falls on his forehead smoothly, framing his frowning brows. “Are you close or something?” he asks after he observes your display area.

“My friend is a little late, so I work alone right now.” You give a half-smile, a business one. “If you do mind, you can come back for an hour for the bread. Can’t you see the sign on the door?”

He turns his sculpted face to the door, “Oh, right. Sorry.” He then walks to the seating area, “Can I wait here?”

You bite your lip. But before you say anything to him to forbid him, your alarm in the kitchen rings. You snarl and walk back to the kitchen. “Your call.” You begin to pick your bread and put it to the cooling rack. You then put the already cool one to the plastic back to put it on the display later. Your eyes leer to the guy sitting casually in the seating area in front of the cashier. The presence of a man close to you is kind of uncomfortable.

Taehyung looks at you from the kitchen window. It is a big glass window to show what’s going on inside the kitchen. And that noon, the window lives to its purpose, he can see what you are doing inside. He can see how uncomfortable you are. How you fidget every time you have nothing on your hand. How your eyes sometimes leer at him. It is his ability to know body language, he is an agent, after all. He knows that you are nervous.

Since you told him that all men are trash yesterday, he still thinks of you as a weird girl. Somehow he is drawn to you. At first, he thought it was just a joke or a prank, but seeing how awkward you are when you see him, he realizes that you do hate men. And he thinks it’s really adorable.

You then go out from the kitchen with a pan of freshly baked bread and walk to the display. You put them neatly, quietly, trying not to mind him, while mentally praying for Hani to come sooner.

“Wow, you really do hate men, don’t you?” He asks abruptly.

His deep voice startled you. Your empty pan falls to the ground as the impact, making a loud noise in the room. You then give him a dirty look. “Pardon?”

He walks to the display area, casually observing the bread. He then takes a piece of bread. “I thought it just a joke when you said all men are trash.” He walks back to his chair, opens the plastic, and bite the bread.

You raise one of your eyebrows. “So?” You ask without batting an eye.

“Nothing. Just find it amusing.”

You walk to the chair in front of him and pull it. You sit there facing him. “You have a problem with that?”

“No.” Taehyung throws his last bite to his mouth and chews it quickly. He inches forward to your face. “Let me guess. Hm.. You got dumped, didn’t you?”

You widen your eyes. “No, I didn’t! I was the one who dumped him!” You put your hand on your mouth. What the hell are you doing telling strangers that?

He hums and folds his arms across his chest. “Okay, let me try again.” He studies you for a bit. “Your boyfriend cheated on you with your friend?”

Your jaw drops and you can feel a flush crept on your face. “How do you know?” You ask in a shock.

He smirks and shrugs confidently. “I am just that good you know.” He chuckles. “Actually no, I just guessed it.”

Just when you wanted to reply to him, the door opened harshly. And there you find your best friend rushing towards you. “Oh my God, Y/N! I am sorry.”

You observe her from the top to her feet, well, she seems fine. That’s the important thing. You sigh. “Where have you been?”

“Jackson got sick so I took him to the hospital. I have been calling you for a hundred times, where is your phone?” Hani asks. You can see her face is bare, she didn’t even draw her eyebrows.

“I left it at home. Is Jackson okay?”

Hani takes off his jacket and rolls her sleeves. “Yeah, just a little infection, he will be fine.” She looks around the bakery. “I can’t believe you open this yourself, I feel terrible.”

You wave your hands. “It’s okay. But I think we should hire a part-timer. It has been a hell for me.”

She rubs her chin. “Yes, I think it is time for us to have a helper.” Hani then looks to the side to find a man there. “I am sorry. Am I interrupting something?” She smiles.

Taehyung smiles back and laughs. “Not really. We just discussed about her hatred of men. I got free bread for guessing the reason right!”

“It’s not free-“

You are interrupted by Hani’s laughter. “It is ridiculous, right? I talked to her all the time that not all men are like that.” Her voice then quieten. “I even told her to find a palate cleanser, you know. And, this is a lil bit TMI. But actually, it’s the reason why we use that name for our bakery.”

Palate cleanser. Taehyung then remembers what Jimin said to him yesterday. And an idea comes to his head.

You push Hani’s back to the locker room. “Alright, alright. Just go change already.” She follows your instruction as she waves to Taehyung.

Taehyung looks at his watch and then gathers his stuff and rises from his chair. He walks towards you and he holds out his hand to you. “I am Taehyung.”

You take his hand after many considerations. “Y/N.”

Taehyung smiles. He then takes his wallet out from his pocket and pulls out a card. A black name card. “This is my number. If you are interested in the palate cleanser thing,” he then forcefully puts the name card on your hand, “please give me a call.” He winks and Taehyung walks away to the door, leaving you speechless on the spot.

You are stunned, seeing the card on your hand. After a few seconds, you realize. You ran outside to catch him. “Hey, you haven’t paid!” but Taehyung has vanished in the crowded road.

“Finally!” Jimin yells. All of the 5 members gather in the meeting room, with Jin in the middle. It’s already 15 minutes past the meeting time. Taehyung walks faster and sits beside his friend.

Jin sighs, “I swear to God, if you are late one more time, I will kick your ass in the practice room.” He shifts his eye to Jungkook beside him. “Actually, I will ask Jungkook to do it.”

Taehyung being such a brat, like he always does, shrugs. “Fine. I am sorry. Please continue the meeting.”

Jin pouts and rolls his eyes. “What I am saying is, we need to gather as many pieces of information from the 3 suspects and they should know nothing. The Black is still an influential organization. We must be careful not to attract any attention.”

Hoseok raises his hand. “But actually, haven’t we attracted the attention already by capturing the leader in Hawaii?”

“That’s true. But most of the new members seem to be a rookie in this field, they haven’t been that loyal to him. For short, they are terrified. They will do whatever they take to throw all of the evidence that shows they’re in the organization right away. That’s why it’s our chance to dig a little deeper.” Jin continues.

“So what is the plan?” Jungkook asks.

Yoongi rises from his seat and connects his laptop. He then shows all of the suspect’s profiles. “Jin and I already talked to our boss. We think that we should divide ourselves into groups to tail them.”

“So, Jimin and Yoongi will investigate Jung Eunji. Taehyung and Hoseok will investigate Park Chanyeol, and the last, Jungkook and I will investigate Byun Baekhyun.” Jin folds his hands across his chest. “You will be needed to submit your report every single day at 00.00. Just tailing, no harsh approaches. If they suspect something, you will retreat and report to me. We don’t need another attraction. Are we clear?”

All of the members nod and rise from their seats as Jin dismisses them. Taehyung walks to Hoseok. “So do we get a stake-out van?”

It is almost midnight but you still can’t fall asleep. You move your body anxiously on the bed, trying to get comfortable. Finally, you surrender. You pick your phone, scrolling on Tumblr. It is a bad idea actually. You always think that reading some stories will make you go to sleep, but instead, you feel excited and end up reading fifteen chapters of 10k stories. But tonight, you can’t find other stories to read.

You sigh. Your mind begins to wander. And suddenly Taehyung pops out in your mind. A palate cleanser, huh? It is tempting actually. He looks nice. Well, nice doesn’t do justice to him. You have never found a guy as handsome as him. It really makes nonsense to you. His beauty is beyond words. And to have such a guy to offer you such service, you must be dreaming.

Or, is he a prostitute? That’s why he looks so ethereal!

You turn your headlamp on and walk to your purse, where you kept his name card. You look at it carefully on both sides. It is just a simple card, with simple ‘Kim Taehyung’ written in gold in the center, with his email and phone number under it and ‘The Company’ on the other side of the card. It seems too sophisticated for a prostitute’s agency, well, not that you ever got it though. Or is he like an exclusive prostitute?

Should I just text him? You sit on your couch. You input his number on your phone and hit the message button. What should I send? You tap your phone on your chin. You have never texted a guy since college. It is lame actually. Whenever you got a guy’s number, you always ignore it. But now, you just got the feeling that you can ignore Taehyung.

You walk to your pantry, pouring a glass of wine, and bring the bottle to the couch. You begin to type.

To Taehyung: Hey...

You knit your eyebrows, what are you? A high schooler? You can do better than this. You delete and begin typing again. You gulp the wine in one shot and pour another glass.

To Taehyung: Dear, Kim Taehyung. I was happy to receive your number and I hope to see you again.

Are you his business partner? Damn, woman. Just type casually. You drink your wine again. Typing and deleting, and drinking. For several hours. Until you fell asleep on the couch with the phone on your hand.

And just like the safety slogan on the road, ‘Don’t Drink and Drive’. You need a new one.

‘Don’t drink and type’

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rat-father · 3 years

Text

Part 5! I feel like this series needs an actual name.

This might be a little too fast paced, I’m not sure. As a whole there’s not a concrete storyline so it kind of goes wherever sometimes but I try to make it make sense

Also Xanzi is a demon and in this world demons and angels are practically sworn enemies so theres that.

Tagging; @skunkandgrenade

-- tw;; it as pronoun, pet whump/captivity, brief mention of blood --

The days that passed went by more smoothly with Lo there, but nothing ever felt quite right. Cub still missed it master and couldn’t stop thinking about him.

Sleeping was hard for it, it constantly got nightmares and was scared of missing the time master comes home.

It wanted to be there when he returned so it could greet it. Like a good pet would.

Waiting was agonizing, they didn’t know what to expect, Xanzi could have been dead for all they knew. But waiting didn’t take much longer.

Xanzi quietly opened the front door to his mansion, it was the middle of the night and he didn’t want to wake anyone up. To his surprise his pet was sat waiting on the other side, it let out a gasp when he walked in and quickly stood to hug him.

It embraced him tightly as it sobbed into his chest.

“It missed you master,” it softly murmured.

“I missed ya too dear. Why were ya sitting here? Shouldn’t ya be in bed?”

Cub tensed up and looked down. It was being a bad pet.

“Come on, let’s get ya to bed. It’s important to rest.”

Master picked it up in his arms with a groan and carried it upstairs to his room, using his foot to open the door. He placed it in the bed and tucked it in like it was a child.

“I’m assuming ya don’t wanna sleep alone so I'll let you stay with me tonight. Just gonna clean myself real quick.”

The pet didn’t see the blood and bruises earlier in the dark but it could see them now through the moonlight shining on him. He was only wearing a tank top and jeans, there were wounds all over his body.

”Master.. master is hurt? Pet needs to help!”

”It ain’t so bad, don’t ya worry about a thing. Stay in bed, I’ll be back in a few.” Master swiftly turned around and left.

Cub let out a whine as master closed the door and left it all alone again. It was still holding panda in its arms, it held it close. It hoped master didn’t disappear again, that this wasn’t some hallucination.

It didn’t take him long to return to his pet. He climbed into bed with it and gently stroked it’s hair as it pressed it’s face against him. It said something to him but it got muffled by his shirt, he wanted to ask but he could already hear it snoring and decided to leave it be.

The next morning Cub woke up in the bed alone, it got scared, was it just a dream? It quickly ran downstairs, relieved to find master sitting on the couch talking to Lo. It hopped into his lap and wrapped it’s arms around him. It was scared to lose him again. It couldn’t live without him!

It frowned when it heard Lo talking, he sounded upset. Was he not happy that master was back?

“You’re trying to tell me that, angels hunting you down for 8 days straight, trying to fucking kill you, is ‘a little scuffle’? Seriously? Did they give you brain damage or something?!”

“Ok, I know it sounds bad,” Xanzi sighed and reluctantly hugged Cub back. “But it really wasn’t that big of a deal. In the end, I’m home, I’m fine.”

“That doesn’t make it any better!”

The pet whimpered when he raised his voice. Master was about to respond when the maid called their names from the dining room, telling them that breakfast was ready. He shook his head and took Cub to the dining room, Lo following after.

It didn’t understand what was going on.

It ate it’s breakfast in silence while they continued to argue back and forth. Once it was done Lexi took its hand in her own and brought it to the kitchen.

“We’re gonna bake some cookies again, ok?” She asked, forcing a smile hoping it couldn’t see her concern.

“Hm.. ok miss. Why is..why is sir Lo angry?”

She let out a long sigh as took out 2 bowls and placed them on the counter.

“He isn’t angry, he’s concerned, that’s all. Just leave them be for a bit, they’ll.. figure it out. But since master is back, let us celebrate by baking some cookies, master loves them after all.”

Cub nodded it’s head in excitement, baking cookies was fun, and it could make master happy! She handed it 2 large eggs which it broke above a bowl, just like how she taught it last time. It carefully measured all the dry ingredients and poured them into a separate bowl, while trying to block out the voices coming from outside the kitchen.

Lexi slowly mixed it all together with the pet sitting at her feet waiting. Then came it’s favorite part; making little balls out of the doughy mixture. It was an easy task it couldn’t mess it up.

It spread the little balls out evenly on the metal tray, and they were ready to go in the oven. The cookies didn’t take too long to bake so the pet just sat waiting in front of it, watching with curious eyes as the balls slowly flattened. Meanwhile Lexi tried to help settle things between the two men arguing in the living room. She was just as annoyed at Xanzi as Lo was but this was getting nowhere.

“Alright, that’s enough blabbering back and forth between you two. Lo, I’m on your side with this, but all that matters right now is that Xanzi is okay and that Cub is happy. Just, Xanzi, next time your in danger, call us. It’s frustrating to know your friend is in danger and you can’t help because they insist they’re fine when they’re not,” she took a moment to take a breath. “That being said, it happened, it’s over with, it’s in the past. You can’t go back in time and change it. Best we can do is treat the wounds, move on, and hope they don’t come back for round 2.”

“I’m sorry, I'll call next time, I promise.” Xanzi murmured.

Lo only shook his head as he exited the room and made his way to the yard, to get some fresh air, leaving the two alone. The awkward silence was broken by the soft pitter patter of Cub’s footsteps as it came running in the room.

“Miss? The timer went off.”

“Okay, let’s go get the cookies out then, shall we?.”

She gently placed her hand on it’s shoulder and lead it back to the kitchen. It watched her quickly put on oven gloves before taking the tray out of the oven. It loved the smell of the freshly baked cookies, it hoped they would cheer master up, he seemed upset.

It impatiently waited for them to cool off, and once they were all done it ate one to see how they tasted. When it confirmed that they tasted good it put a couple on a small plate and happily walked back to it’s master.

“Master! We baked some cookies!” Cub held the plate out to him, smiling from ear to ear.

“Oh? Thank you pet,” he took the plate with a smile and bit into one of the cookies. “They taste amazing, you did really well. Come sit with me.”

It immediately sat down, leaning against him and squealed with delight as he stroked it’s hair.

It loved it’s master so much. It never wanted to be apart from him again. He was all it ever needed.

#pet whump #whumpee #whump #whump story #captivity whump #Cub is bean #I didn't proofread pls ignore mistakes #after this is gonna be more fluff #I'm just in a fluff mood

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thompsborn · 3 years

Note

Happy FFWF! Try to find snippet of one of the following words from your WIPs: defenstration; jumbotron; proton; fiber; parenthesis; alphabetical; gross; zebra; semi-colon; runner; quaint; bearded; married; time; cold; right

i could only find a couple of them, but i really like the snippets i have, so here we go!!

fiber (from an incomplete prompt fill)

“Parker Curse,” Ben laughed when they showed up late for Ned’s seventh birthday party because Peter couldn’t find his left shoe.

“Parker Curse,” May tsk’ed when Peter was twelve and slipped on spilled water and had to wear a cast for his broken wrist.

“Parker Curse,” Peter whispered as he stood next to Ben’s grave, feeling like there was still blood soaked into the very fiber of his being.

gross (from my ironhusbands big bang fic)

James wakes up to someone knocking on his door. For a moment, he ignores it, hoping no response will be enough to send the mystery person away—until he hears that familiar voice call out a, “Mr. Rhodes?”

He sighs, slow and sluggish as he reluctantly pushes himself into a sitting position, brings up a hand to dig his fingers into his eye and rubs at the sleep crusting them shut. Even still, he contemplates staying here, wonders the likeliness of his surprise visitor giving up and just coming back later, but—

“Mr. Rhoooodes.”

It’s wishful thinking, at best.

As he clambers to his feet, there’s another round of knocking at his door—though, this time, it sounds like it’s in the tune of happy birthday, which he rolls his eyes at as he pads his way out of his rooms and heads down the hall—followed by a muffled huff and what sounds suspiciously like someone stomping their foot, to which he almost snorts. “I’m going to literally die out here if you don’t let me in! I’m going to die, and then you’re going to have a gross corpse outside your door, because I’ll be dead in the hallway!”

Thankfully, he reaches the door just then, reaching for the knob and pulling it open as he says, “No, you won’t.” He quirks a brow at the teenager that is now pouting at him standing in the hallway, trying not to let his amusement show on his face, instead pushing to project how tired he is in order to make an attempt to discourage random arrivals like this, though he knows, by this point, that there’s not much he can do to stop them, and he’s not sure he actually wants them to stop. “What do you want?”

“Summer,” Peter says—freshly fifteen and with a hip cocked out, showing the little bit of attitude that he knows how to show, the little bit that, not all that long ago, James had no clue even existed.

“It is summer,” James tells him, brows raising even higher.

“Only for, like, two more weeks!” Peter complains with a groan, head tilted back and looking seconds away from stomping his foot like some kind of toddler. It makes the ends of James’ mouth twitch, just a bit, almost betraying his already barely concealed amusement—something that’s even harder to fight off when Peter then makes his way into James’ apartment like it’s his second home, letting a backpack that James didn’t realize is hanging off one shoulder slide to the floor by the coffee table before collapsing onto the sofa with an even more exaggerated pout, brows furrowed and arms crossing over his chest. With a light laugh, James just swings the door shut and makes his way over, taking a seat on the other end of the sofa and resigning himself to the fact that this is going to be the start of his day, knowing that he’s going to have to entertain this conversation before he’ll be able to get away for long enough to start a pot of coffee and change out of his pajamas. “I want it to stay summer. Like, permanently, you know?”

quaint (from the next chapter of the portal closed)

“Have you talked to Rhodey yet?” Mr. Stark asks—before Peter’s even standing upright after landing on the carpeted floor, wheeling in on him with something manic in his eyes. “Did you get ahold of him?”

“I’m working on it,” Peter replies, somewhere between meek because of the fact that he hasn’t made it happen yet and defensive because he is trying and he’s getting somewhere, somehow, isn’t he? He got Mr. Rhodes’ number, left a message today after trying to call twice yesterday, and that’s something. That has to be something and he just wants it to be something good. “I’m trying my best,” he adds after a moment, and he doesn’t mean to sound quant, or small, but that’s how his voice comes out.

married (from a peppermay one shot i’m working on titled all the way happy)

Peter tells her one day, “You don’t have to stop loving him, but I think you need to move on.” He says it while they’re eating ice cream out of the carton and watching How I Met Your Mother, because it’s Ben’s birthday and he loved this show, even if May never really understood why he would watch it on repeat. Understanding or not, she’s seen the damn show ten times over, at least, since they got married, and ten times more since Ben was murdered.

May looks at Peter and suddenly realizes that she isn’t looking at a kid. She’s looking at her nephew, seventeen and childish in ways, but more grown up than many adults will ever be. She sees the contemplative look on his features and the way he appears bashful to have spoken up at all, yet certain that he’s saying something he really needs to say. It’s shocking, to say the least. “What?” she asks.

“I just—” Peter stops, and considers, and takes a bite of their ice cream. “I mean, like—like, you hold yourself back, you know? I can tell. And I know he was—he—I know you love him, and you’ll never stop, no matter how long it’s been, but… but you don’t have to stop yourself from loving other people, too. Maybe you don’t need to, and that’s fine, as long as you’re happy, but sometimes I think that you stop yourself from being all the way happy because you think you could only be all the way happy with him.”

time (from the next chapter of the portal closed)

It’s a gun.

It’s also definitely not a gun.

Like, it’s—it’s something straight out of a sci-fi movie, glowing a bit and way too big to be practical and intimidating, and it’s a gun, yeah, but it isn’t, like, a pistol, or a rifle, or any sort of gun that Peter is familiar with. That sixth sense tingles at the back of his neck as he looks at it and he has an undeniable feeling that something like that doesn’t belong here.

Here, as in Queens.

Here, as in New York.

Here, as in Earth itself, because just looking at the thing is enough to know it’s quite literally out of this world. That it isn’t technology anyone on this planet has seen or heard of or used before.

The sixth sense tingles at the back of Peter’s neck again and makes his palms feel clammy underneath his fingerless gloves and makes his lungs feel like they suddenly aren’t taking in enough air, so he sucks in a sharp breath that whistles, just a little bit, but the sound is just loud enough to bounce off the walls.

And then the person holding the gun is looking Peter in the eyes, and Peter knows that he’s screwed.

There are approximately three seconds between the gun wielder looking at him and the gun actually going off, only this time it’s pointed at Peter and not at the weird industrial barrier that’s been placed in front of the alley wall, and there’s more guys, five or six, if Peter is to guess based on the quick look he gets, but only one of these guns—and when it fires, something bright and blue and baffling comes flying Peter’s way, and he barely manages to dive to the side with a strangled yelp before it hits the ledge of the roof where Peter had been peeking over and that explosion sound is a lot closer than it was before.

Because the explosion sound is coming from the impact of the gun and whatever kind of energy or laser or something that the stupid thing is firing. Peter scrambles to his feet, looks at where he had been standing moments before, and finds a crater of cement and rubble and debris in his place.

So, it’s powerful. It’s strong, and dangerous, and Peter can’t let these guys have it.

He wishes he had enough time to take a deep breath and sort his thoughts, clear his mind, but life has never been super nice to him and the gun is firing again before he ever have the time to blink.

cold (from my mcu rewrite)

“Is he really complaining about us not wanting him to die?” Rhodey asks—rhetorically, of course, as he turns his head to share a bewildered look with Happy, who merely shrugs and plops into his own seat with a barely concealed smile of amusement. “You haven’t even apologized for making me stand in the sun for three god damn hours, and now you’re complaining about us not wanting you to die?” This time, the question, still completely rhetoric, is aimed directly at Tony. “That’s just rude, man. That’s cold.”

Tony doesn’t look very sorry—mostly because he knows that Rhodey is playing up his annoyance in good fun, is well versed in what it really looks like to look a truly pissed off James Rhodes in the eyes, which is just… terrifying, and inspiring, almost—but he still offers a half-assed, “I’m sorry?”

Rhodey glares at Tony for a second, then sits directly across from him. “Sure you are.”

right (from my ironhusbands big bang fic)

Peter shrugs. “Well, now you don’t work there, so you can’t. Sucks to suck. Do you have any coffee?”

“For you? Absolutely not.” James gets back to his feet, ignoring the way Peter whines, making his way to the kitchen. He calls over his shoulder, “There’s some other options, though, if you want to look around. Eggs, bacon, sausage, pancakes—whatever you find is up for grabs, as long as it’s an actual breakfast item and not something full of caffeine or sugar. If you’re going to be bugging me today, I refuse to let you give yourself a sugar rush or get so energized that you start doing laps around the room again.”

When Peter heads into the kitchen after James, he looks slightly reluctant, but still grateful as he starts to poke around the pantries and the fridge. “It’s not coffee,” he says defensively, “but thanks.”

That’s the Peter Parker way of saying you know how poor we are right now and I know you’re trying to be subtle about feeding me so now I’m trying to be subtle about saying thank you because I don’t feel comfortable addressing the issue, let alone accepting help for it. James is well versed in how to see through the hidden message, tilts his head in a nod and offers a warm smile before starting up a pot of coffee, leaving it there and only pausing shortly to level Peter with a stern looking, telling him, “Not a drop of that better end up in your system, Parker,” before ambling back to his room to get changed.

#ffwf #a day late oops #ironhusbands #peppermay #my writing #tpc #the portal closed

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after-witch · 4 years

Text

Under a Bridge (Yandere Norway x Country Reader)

Title: Under a Bridge (Yandere Norway x Country Reader)

Synopsis: You’ve been under Norway’s thumb, trapped and caged in more ways than one. You seek help from otherworldly beings, but a deal once made, can’t be undone.

(Request: Anonymous asked: Yandere Norway with a country s/o who can use magic and see magical creatures like him? Like how would he deal with them trying to get help/escape through their magical creatures help?)

Word Count: 1600

notes: yandere

“Your temperament is better,” he says quietly, settling down in the chair across from yours. A modest dinner, smoked fish and fresh vegetables from the garden, rests on the table between you. You made it tonight, without fuss, as you have been for many, many nights before. You even hummed while you did so, a song you heard long ago from a creature now turned to dust.

You smile sweetly--softly, still, but sweetly, and that is what matters.

“I know I’ve been… disagreeable,” you say, choosing your words carefully. You’re very careful now--you must be. Or all of your good behavior, your compliant cooking and helpful, listening ear, will have been for naught. “I understand now that you… only want what is best for me.” You say nothing more, gently lifting a piece of cooked vegetable to your lips, watching his reaction.

He doesn’t react much to your words. He never did, even when he was angry with you, in the time that you were a wild, fighting, nasty thing; back when you screamed out curses and begged every creature you knew might hear to help you, to no avail. Cut off from your homeland, cut off from your magic; you could feel it, tingling and stretching, trying to reach you across miles and miles and so many borders. But that feeling dimmed, day by day, week by week, until it was nothing but a soft ache in the back of your mind.

He was patient, you will give him that. He didn’t scream or hurt you, at least not in the way that you supposed captors might normally hurt an non-compliant, unwilling captive. He simply laid out his expectations, laid out his rules, and waited day by day for your resolve to weaken.

And now, his subtle smile over the table tells you all you need to know.

It means that he trusts that you’re behaving. It means that he trusts that you’ve accepted your place, small and cramped and caged in this little house with its little garden, cut off from your homeland and even the once-familiar creatures that helped you or hurt you or kept you company over the long stretch of your life.

It also means that he trusts you not to spike his dinner with a sleeping potion.

His mistake, of course.

You make small conversation, giving him updates about the garden and the animals, about repairs you’re going to make to this and that dress. He’s quiet, which is par the course--but you see over the increasingly mundane conversation that he’s starting to nod out. Slowly, slowly, until he mentions that he may sleep earlier than usual. You rise, so polite and caring now, and help him to bed. He barely makes it onto the freshly laundered bedding before he passes out.

You waste no time. Instinctively, quickly, you grab the bag you’ve prepared for your flight. Tucked underneath a floorboard, it’s enough to keep you safe and energized until you can get far away. You tucked some trinkets, things to barter with, should you find anyone (or anything) trustworthy enough in the forests.

Your dainty house slippers, made for trodding on soft boards and grass in the garden, are replaced with a pair of his sturdy boots. They’ll do you better in the forest. Without a second thought, you’re gone--you don’t even bother shutting the door, instead fleeing on foot; you leave the sounds of crying goats and concerned chickens and the rush of the stream alongside the cabin behind you.

Your time--how long, you wonder, how long--living a quiet, pampered house-life with Norway has left you weaker than you realized. You can no longer run for hours on end, strong and free, wind whipping behind you.

You’re forced to take breaks, resting on logs or on piles of leaves, trying to catch your panicked breath. You nibble on your rations and take the smallest sips from your flask. You yearn to take big gulps, especially when your lungs burn and ache from exertion, but the streams in the forest have always worried you. Back home, they were cheerful, clean; you might find someones and somethings inside, with wings or green skin or even tails, but they were always willing to part with fresh water for a trifle, a song or a compliment. Nothing serious. And they’d never tried to drown you, as far as you knew, which was more than you could say for some other water-logged entities back home.

Norway never let you fetch water from the stream near your cabin, always handling it himself. There may have been a reason for that, you remind yourself, opposing the increasing temptation to greedily drink down the precious water in your flask and refill it from a bubbling brook.

You refuse to sleep that first night, opting instead to keep running. Your potion, if crafted correctly, should keep him asleep for 2 full nights. And you want to get as much distance as possible between you in that time. The forest is unnerving, unfamiliar. You try to reach out for anything familiar--but whatever creatures inhabited Norway either ignored you or brushed you off as something unusual and foreign. Don’t bother with this one, you heard from a tree, though you can’t decide if that notion was offensive or not.

The sun is setting on your second day when you realize you can’t hold off on refilling your flask anymore. It was a silly notion, after all, to think you could ration water while your body was screaming from exhaustion.

You drain the last dribbles of water and follow the sounds of rushing water until you find something you didn’t expect to see: a waterfall, rushing down in great white bubbling, empting into a small river with unusually clear, glass-like water. You glance in the water. It’s clean… too clean, you realize immediately, to be an ordinary forest river. There is not a spec of debris, no sign of a fish, nothing but beautifully, tempting--, really--water that exuded coolness.

You know better. You know better and yet, you find your hands unwillingly gripping your flask as you untwist the cap. You lean down towards the stream, and in the glass-like reflection you can see something--more than one something--watching you from the middle of the river. Women, with long black hair stringing down past their naked waists; grinning, eager, beckoning you with their hands. Something more, too, on the other side of the river. A human figure, blonde and blurry, watching and waiting--but for what?

You want to pull away, to run until your lungs explode, but your hands feel like lead puppets, heavy and obeying someone else pulling the strings. You dip the flask down in the water, which is cold, so cold--and you can see the long strands of thick black hair coming closer, curling under the clear water like snakes. Some of the tendrils begin to loosely wrap around your wrists, like chains, and you’re briefly reminded of the cuffs Norway had once used--

Your unwitting reverie is suddenly broken by the sound of a low, rumbling laugh next to you. Your entire body jerks, the flask flying from your hands and into the water, to the sound of disappointed bubbling groans. You twist to the side and look up--and up, and up--at a massive forest troll. Covered in moss and leaves and even bird nests, some with eggs tucked neatly inside them.

“I--” you start, shaking your head, blowing away whatever enchantments had you. “If it was your intention, thank you for helping me. If it wasn’t your intention, thank you all the same.”

The troll laughs again, gruff and not altogether unpleasant. “I only wanted to see what he would do if I stopped them.” He gestures towards the other side of the river with his rock-like chin, and that’s when you realize--blonde, yes, blurry, no. It was Norway standing there on the grassy edge of the river, looking--for once--quite pissed off. The potion must have been weaker than you thought--damn recipe.

Your body falters. You want to run, but there’s nowhere you can go fast enough at this point. You look up helplessly at the troll and whisper out a plea, something you know you should never say to the unknown: “Please help me.”

The massive troll seems to consider for a moment, then opens his palm and shrugs. You glance at his giant teeth, some green and some sharp, but there don’t (for the moment) appear to be any human-sized bones inside. You climb onto his palm and he lifts you up high, cradling you against his mossy chest, while you try to ignore the sounds of Norway yelling--yelling, for once!--after you.

You feel the troll’s other hand patting the top of your head, shockingly gentle but condescending all the same. “Don’t worry,” he says, “He can’t enter my home to get you, my….” He mumbles now, and you can only hope you misheard the last word: “pet.”

#yandere hetalia #yandere norway #yandere x reader #yandere #apologies for the mishmash of folklore do do do #ahh also I know in norway this particular type of creature tends to be male #compared to other versions which are female #but #creative license

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halothenthehorns · 3 years

Text

All in the Family

Chapter 116: The Eye of the Snake

No one even had the chance to scream as they all landed in a very small room, but instead watched the transformation happen in reverse in rapid succession. Moony had barely gotten to his feet before Remus stood in place, and that only lasted long enough for his eyes to roll back into his head and he fell to the floor, unconscious and naked. The other two animals vanished with much less fanfare, a little pop and only one was left.

Peter rolled off the bed he hadn't even registered he'd been on, blanket in hand to cover him, while all eyes instead turned to the still whimpering dog splayed out on the floor in a puddle of black and red.

Not an ear had been saved from his cries in those echoing mountains, even Alice who hadn't dared turn on a light once she'd been able to go no further in the disturbingly small cave.

James was already knelt over him, speaking fervently the spells they usually used on Moony until his high-pitched keening finally subsided, eyes still half-lidded. Too in pain from the burning wounds to get comfortable to sleep, too exhausted to even take in this new place.

Prongs sat on the ground to pull and rearrange gently so that Padfoot's large head was cushioned on his thigh, sprawled out on his lap and still halfheartedly whimpering. "Everyone's okay, don't worry," he crooned as if to an infant, one hand kneading gently at the scruff of his neck, the other tucking away his wand and turning a gentle palm over his spine and down his legs to make sure he hadn't missed anything. Finally his heavy breathing evened out, but James still winced and held him tighter as his hand came away covered in so much blood.

He'd healed the gashes and mended the broken bones, even the internal damage should have sown itself back together, but he did not know the spell to help with blood loss or even if there was one other than a potion they had no hopes of getting the ingredients for. They'd only ever learned enough to help ease Remus of the worst of it until Madam Pomfrey arrived, and despite the dangers of running with a werewolf, only a few bites and scrapes ever came of it as he never had any interest in fighting them for dominance, let alone trying to eat them. Nothing ever this serious.

He snorted softly at his own train of thought, letting his hand rest gently against the beating heart. He'd be alright, he had to be. He'd sleep it off, they'd get some food into him and Alice, everyone would be fine, they just had to survive this.

"How long will he have to, be like that?" James looked up in surprise, his eyes finally taking in where exactly they were, and his heart thudding for a moment in shock as he realized it was just Regulus in front of him, wide-eyed and curious once more.

"Um, probably should be for a day or so," he answered, distracted as he looked around properly. A large queen-sized bed dominated the room, a thick, crochet blanket still clung to the foot of the bed that Peter was eyeing like he wanted to rip that off too, the quilt covering Moony also looked homespun. A pair of thin, wire-framed glasses sat on the table behind him, and the black book rested on the opposite nightstand, but otherwise there didn't seem much décor to speak of. "A lot of saliva got into the wounds-" he stopped and winced heavily, that was going to burn worse than the original wounds, not to mention scar. "Just, better safe than sorry, he'll work it out of his system and be back to normal in no time. So long as he stays Padfoot, there won't be any problems."

Regulus didn't seem to question any of this, but instead reached his hand out tentatively, brushing his fingers across the crown of his skull. The dog's thick fur felt surprisingly soft. Lupin had said they helped like he'd never believe, and damn if that didn't make more sense than ever right now... "Where did everyone else go?" Potter asked, his eyes on the open door behind him.

"Alice was hoping to find a bathroom, said something about a potions kit if they were lucky, but it leads into a scullery. I don't know more than that." Longbottom had been limping and she'd been anxious to mend that, werewolf in his vicinity or not. Evans had hovered and kept watching Potter, but she'd backed out of the room. He hadn't been able to do more than turn his head slightly to see it all, eyes still trained on his brother.

James sighed, they probably should check that out just to be safe. The last thing they needed was yet another surprise in some stranger's house. Gently nudging until Padfoot was off his lap and apologizing quietly as the soft whimpers started up again, he went over to Peter and grabbed Moony's feet in the burrito of blankets he was still in, the dried blood on it already covering Peter's own spells to heal the damage done to his leg. Peter supported under his arms as they got him onto the bed, and then the two repeated this on Padfoot. He did awaken, stirring and huffing, but a few gentle words calmed him and his bright gray eyes lit with understanding, as he went slack in their grip until the mattress was beneath him. They watched as he nuzzled up against Remus's legs and curled into a ball still trembling slightly, Peter finally taking the quilt and throwing it over him before joining the other two at the door, but leaving it open behind them, just in case.

The washroom at least didn't seem very threatening. There was a bathroom door ajar, but his eyes focused on the stack of freshly laundered wizard's robes sitting in a wicker basket, and James peeked into the cupboard above this to find several threadbare pants and shirts. He dug around for a moment before selecting one of each that should fit Remus, then shrugged and went through them again looking for some for himself. There seemed to be a bit of a variety to his surprise, and wondered how many people lived here. He set those aside for now to keep going though.

The answer came when he followed the two into a very familiar kitchen. He'd only been in it once, but it had been a memorable experience.

"Oh good, you stayed awake," Alice called from the stove. She didn't have the red hair, but she easily reminded him of Mrs. Weasley, the amount of times he'd pictured her here in her home turf.

"Was too keyed up," he admitted, but even to his own ears his voice dragged a bit. They'd only been awake two hours at best since their last lie down, but the night caused a bone-deep weariness in him like they'd just spent a whole twenty-four hours dealing with Moony again.

"Here then," Lily got up from the table and offered him a plate covered with sausages already half-drowned in syrup. "I'm sure they won't mind," she added with a smile.

A real, genuine, one could almost call it teasing smile. His brain shut down. His stomach sent a sizzling sensation tracing through every nerve ending in his body. "I, um," he took the offered plate on autopilot looking her dead in the eye, and she let the smile linger as she went back to the table, sitting back down next to Frank as she went back to her fried potatoes and tomatoes.

Silence hung in the kitchen for several long moments as he stood there like he'd been clubbed over the head. Peter and Regulus went forward and began helping themselves to the feast and had dug in for several moments and he still hadn't moved. Peter bit into his eggs with a little too much gusto to stop himself from laughing. Remus and Sirius were going to die they'd missed this. He cleared his throat and directed at anyone who would answer, "so, since when can we leave the room we landed?"

"We could back in the Divination classroom from Trelawney's office," Regulus kindly reminded, but they'd had a lot going on during that time, so he wasn't surprised this detail hadn't been acknowledged in a while. "Maybe we could even before that, but none of us tried to get back inside the Dursleys' home." He was personally glad nobody had tried in Grimmauld place either, someone probably would have died if they'd tried traversing that whole house at once.

"No one tried to leave the Gryffindor dorms to see if we could go into the common room," Alice added. She was kicking herself a bit she hadn't realized the Dursleys' one specifically, her foot had been hanging out of the cat-flap door to Harry's room and she hadn't thought of trying to get the rest of herself out by just opening it?

Frank's eyes glazed over in thought for a moment before saying, "maybe we even could have left the locker rooms to go onto the Quidditch pitch, but I wonder if we couldn't still go beyond that. We can go up the staircase here, but only into Percy's room, none of the others."

"I can't help but wonder if it's because Charlie's room was given to a sibling we haven't gotten tossed into yet," Lily sighed.

"We still can't even get into their living room or the yard, so we still seem pretty confined, it's just slowly getting better," Frank shrugged.

"I'll take that," Lily said in delight.

"Molly does have a potions kit by the way," Alice added in kindly, scraping the last of the bacon onto a plate and bringing that to the table before digging in herself. James still hadn't moved. "I'm not surprised really she'd keep something like that on hand, with all these boys here. There were quite a few things in there Lily and Frank seemed excited over."

"Ditany," Frank nodded seriously.

"Some bubotuber pus," Lily stated.

"A bit of Wiggenweld Potion," Frank added.

"And some blood restorative," Alice finished, taking a hearty bite of a bacon and egg sandwich she'd put together. Clearly she spoke of that one from experience.

"We'll probably just have to nick the lot," Frank winced in shame for admitting this, even as he patted the little white box and cast Alice a smile of no regrets.

"We'll definitely find some way to pay them back if, you know, if it's actually gone or something for real in their time, or whatever," Lily stated in no uncertain terms for the wonky sentence.

"Great," James finally snapped out of his reverie, but then set the plate on the counter even as he still hadn't taken his eyes off of her. "I should, probably give that to them now, they'll sleep even better."

She nodded without surprise, going back to eating her food with far more investment than should really be needed as she gave it a little push in his direction.

Peter stuffed one last bite of eggs into his mouth and followed him, stopping to pick up the clothes left out, James coming in with the tiny vial of blue potion, still full from someone having the forethought already to use a refill charm on it.

The four left in the kitchen didn't break the silence, not yet, as they all reflected how different things felt from the last time they'd been here.

It was hard to tell if the kitchen felt the same impact. Despite the fact that it was still night outside, it was blitheringly obvious this wasn't the same night they'd just left, let alone the day they'd been here last, yet nothing of consequence had changed that they could see. The clock with the Weasley's hands was still drifting aimlessly, the drawers were still overpacked with the same muggle paraphernalia. None of it yet answered the much less pressing question of how much they impacted each environment when they left it.

They weren't really surprised when the Marauders didn't come back, but none of them felt like trying to fall asleep either. Lily finally got up and snagged that deck of cards off the counter, the self-shuffling charm must have worn off, because she began shuffling them and asking if anyone wanted to play a game.

"I've never heard of it," Regulus whispered quietly.

"Neither have I," Frank shrugged, helping Alice to stack up some plates and lead them to the sink which began cleaning them at once.

"I can teach you, it's really simple," she promised, and nobody argued after that.

Lily was the only one who spoke as she explained the game to the three of them, but they were all smiling just a bit at the mostly luck-based structure after only one practice hand and three real rounds. It only took five though before Frank was trying to stifle a yawn, and Alice was quick to make an excuse.

"Neither of you are tired yet?" She still confirmed.

"Not even a little bit," Lily shrugged.

"Nah," Regulus frowned, all thumbs as he tried shuffling the deck again, but it scattered across the table as his bridge collapsed. He couldn't even blame it on an injury, they'd kindly dabbed Wiggenweld Potion onto his sore fingers. His face puckered, but he leaned forward and quickly began pulling them all back to him to try again.

"Well, we're going to borrow Percy's bed for a bit then," she only barely blushed at saying this so casually, but they'd been doing it for practically this whole trip so most of the embarrassment had subsided long before now.

"Alright then," Lily did look up at them with clear curiosity, Alice didn't sound even the least bit sleepy, but offered her hand to Regulus to show him how to do it again instead of saying anything.

He handed it over wordlessly and watched her every move as she shuffled in slow motion.

The two held hands up the narrow staircase up to the second floor, slipping into Percy's room properly now, when they'd only opened the door before just to check if it would.

Here, it seemed, finally was some sort of answer that their passing through didn't have an affect. The bed was still properly made, when she knew for a fact they'd left the blankets in disarray from their springing upon it, and the bottle of ink Sirius had knocked over looked untouched. There was even more thick dust upon every surface.

One could argue somebody had just straightened up and abandoned the place again, but it was hard to fathom a motive for any of the Weasleys' doing so. They both had to cast Tergeo several times to get the room any kind of bearable, let alone sleep in without sneezing their noses off, but as the two crawled under the covers, Frank whispered in her ear, "I was faking that yawning you know."

Alice laughed in surprise as she nestled against his chest. "No, I hadn't suspected you of that." She ran the tips of her fingers across his palm for a few moments before whispering, "that's the first thing you've really said since we landed here."

Frank kissed her temple as he mulled over how to answer her. "I suppose I'd never stopped to consider, why exactly, those guys went and did something so wildly dangerous and illegal themselves to hang around a werewolf. I was more stuck on the man-eating monster bit to, ah, see the other aspects."

He grasped her fingers to get her to stop, that was starting to tickle. "I saw it out there though," he breathed into her ear, "what you and Lily seemed to instantly get. They care for each other, they'd die for each other, Sirius Black really was going to die to stop Lupin from getting to me." It should have been obvious long before now, but he really would admit now his prejudices had kept him pretty narrow minded on this. It wasn't Lupin's fault, he didn't want to hurt any of them, and those three Marauders knew that, everyone had figured that out before him. "Remus," he corrected, deciding if going through all that hadn't put them on first-name terms he didn't know what could.

She shivered at the idea of how close that must have been for him to have had such a good picture. The story had been easy enough to piece together, why else but her boyfriend bleeding would Padfoot have to restrain him with such ferocity? She hadn't exactly wanted details though. "I thought he was dying out there," she hadn't wanted to admit this, afraid it would only make him hate Remus more telling how close she'd been to him as well in such a dangerous time, but now she admitted, "he just looked, so in pain, right before," she stopped with another shiver at just the idea of having to go through something like that once a month. Then the heart wrenching cry of the animal, she'd been convinced Sirius Black was dying on the other side of that log barrier keeping the werewolf away and she'd done nothing to help.

Frank shivered with her, but then instantly relaxed and just held her tighter. "I don't think Lily was kidding about trying to invent that Wolfsbane potion even earlier," he added on.

"No, I'd imagine she wasn't," she could hear the grin in his voice. She still held tight to him as guilt warred with practicality. She couldn't deny anymore Frank hadn't been all wrong either, they really could find themselves in 'Moony's' vicinity again at any time, but there must be some better option out there than his mates constantly taking a beating for them every time.

"Might help her with that," he muttered, thinking he definitely owed the guy more of an apology than that, but it was at least a start.

Lily and Regulus were both very much aware this was the most time they'd spent around each other period. There was no peril to avoid, no book to read, they were simply trapped in this room with only each other for company and a deck of cards.

The game simply gave their hands something to do, and they did have to concentrate on it a bit, but the awkward silence started to wane as Regulus really got the hang of it. By the tenth hand he was shuffling with moderate success and dealing out the cards like he'd done it countless times, and by the eleventh the two started to realize they may both have a bit of a competitive streak.

Regulus was finally the one to break the long stretch of silence as he managed to beat her for the first time, and her response was to sigh she shouldn't have taught him that move. "Who taught you how to play this?" He hoped his voice wasn't as stiff as it sounded to his own ears, and that she wouldn't realize same as him this was the first time he'd tried talking to a muggle-born.

Though technically, he had no idea what Peter's blood status was. He'd admitted once already he'd never met his father, and though he hadn't outright said it Regulus had sussed out from his home and a few lapses in knowledge of wizarding society over their talks his mother was a Muggle, so he was as good as a muggle-born in some people's eyes. He just didn't want to be one of those people anymore.

"My mum," she smiled at the memory, while doing several extra shuffles of the deck to make sure she didn't get that hand again. "My sister got very bored with it and didn't want to stay past the second time, so it became a thing with me and her, we'd play for hours," as she dealt out the next hand.

He found himself completely fascinated at nearly everything she'd just said. He wasn't unaware she had a sister, that Petunia Dursley deserved a far worse word than mudblood thrown at her, plus he still remembered that boggart they'd come across, but it was the way she spoke about her in past tense, like he kept thinking about Sirius.

There was also the fact that she'd done such a thing as play a game with her mum, did all parents do that, or was it a Muggle thing?

He thought over his words as he collected the new cards, but didn't think there was anything offensive in them. Still, he spoke cautiously as he arranged his hand, waiting for her to give him a dirty look any second so he would stop and not ruin this. "Me and Sirius used to play Three Brothers, but not since we were a lot younger, he hadn't even started being an arse yet if you can believe it."

The cheek had not been the part of that he was concerned with sharing, but to his disbelief she actually giggled.

He sat there just staring at her despite the fact that it was his turn. He kept waiting for something to happen, but even he wasn't quite sure what. He'd never asked why you shouldn't hang around muggle-borns.

"What's Three Brothers?" She asked.

"It's a kids' story," he paused and chewed on his cheek for only a moment, but it was ridiculous at this point to even let the thought flutter about her learning something to do with wizards as he finally went and the pattern continued. "There's these three objects these brothers won from death, and when you have them all, you'd be master of death. A stone that lets you see the dead, a wand that can't be beat, and a cloak that repels any spell. When Sirius read it to me, we went on a quest about the house, looking for them. In the attic, all the spare rooms, you name it."

Lily was baffled something so lighthearted could have taken place in that miserable home, but then she wasn't more sure if she was disappointed, or unsurprised when he finished, "we eventually nicked father's wand, and he grounded us for a week for doing something so silly. Sirius doesn't like playing games with me much since."

His smile was childishly delighted as he won the hand again, it was hard to believe this was the same lad simply sitting here chatting with her when he'd once laughed at the most degrading of insults right in front of her.

He'd never outright called her that though, never really bothered to speak to her at all anymore than she had him. It was not lost on her as he now shuffled for a new game with ease that they'd all been rather stuck in their ways.

Alice and Frank really had dozed off, but only for an hour or two for a nap, when they came back down they saw Regulus and Lily were still at it, and a scorecard had been produced at some point. They'd won a pretty equal amount of times, and both seemed convinced they were going to trump the other eventually, but they spoke to each other with casual ease as they recalled what had happened at Slughorn's last party.

"The boys still out?" Alice felt bad for interrupting, but she was starting to get worried. How long were they supposed to sleep that kind of thing off before someone checked on them?

"Yeah," Regulus said casually enough. His sharp eyes missed nothing as he played his next card but kept the door to the scullery in his periphery.

"I think this is a common thing though," Lily added, her voice trying for casual, and failing. "I mean, Lupin does miss classes quite a lot, we all knew that, and those guys make up excuses for him all the time, so they probably know better than us."

"Did you want back in the game?" Regulus asked, and Frank wondered if it was his imagination some of the stiffness had left his voice.

"Sure," they both agreed.

The four whittled away at least another hour at it, until Alice finally convinced the two with a mild insanity problem they could call it even, and went to make some more breakfast, as all the ingredients were ready about the kitchen instead of hoping she could get into the Weasleys' cellar. By then though they were all growing restless and obviously watching the door.

"I'll go try and wake them up," Regulus finally volunteered what they were all thinking. "If they try to kill me, just know, I would have won eventually," he finished with a leveled look at Evans, who just smirked and pocketed the deck.

He pushed the door open quietly to find them all piled onto the bed. Sirius, err, the dog, Padfoot?, was now stretched out almost comfortably with his head across Peter's chest and feet digging into Potter's back, his own furry behind right on Lupin's nose that was not causing him to miss a beat of snoring. He sucked on his cheek for a moment debating how to do this, before finally deciding Peter was the least likely to sock him in the face on any given occasion, let alone being woken up.

He eased up and gently tapped him on the shoulder, but it wasn't his voice who said, "going to take more than that to get them up."

He made a very undignified squeal of surprise that should have woken up the whole house as he watched Potter. His eyes hadn't opened, he didn't even seem to have moved, but when he frowned around at the others again he realized it was the truth. Peter had merely grumbled and twitched but kept on snoring, and Sirius and Lupin hadn't even done that.

When he looked at Potter again his eyes were blinking hazily open, rubbing his knuckles into them and finally shifting to get up. He grabbed Arthur's glasses by mistake, went cross-eyed, and then finally stretched as he eyed Regulus wearily fixing his own in place. "How long we been out?"

"Couple hours, five maybe," he shrugged, none of them had been wearing a watch when this happened, and they weren't even sure it would have worked regardless.

"That's it?" His face scrunched up with displeasure. "Oh we're doomed, Moony's been out for two or three days after a night like that." Then he paused and assessed the lot, and glanced out the window as he reconsidered, "but, he also wasn't changed for nearly as long as usual, so we might get lucky and not have to set the house on fire."

"I'm sure the Weasley's would appreciate that," he nodded, eyeing the giant black shape curiously once more.

"Any food?" James cut in, and Regulus dragged his eyes back away from his furry brother but merely shrugged. Then he seemed to take the hint, and finally left.

James rubbed his eyes for a few more moments, but thankfully the tempting sounds of sizzling meat already had Padfoot and Peter's nose twitching to life. Maybe this process would have been easier if they were all Hufflepuffs instead.

Regulus hadn't been all wrong going after Peter first, only a few pointed prods and shakes with the promise of breakfast and he was rolling out of bed with some unintelligible grumbling before stomping off. Padfoot was usually more difficult, but his tail was thumping in excitement as he stretched instead before James even had to say anything, the food probably smelt even better to him like that.

"Ahah," he quickly scolded when he recognized the other way he was stretching, about to change back. "You are not to change back for twenty-four hours mister."

The dog huffed, and Regulus couldn't help but agree. "How exactly are you going to enforce that?"

Potter whirled on the spot to scowl at him, clearly annoyed he was still hanging around, but he was just too curious to pass up seeing Sirius like this.

"Fine then," he turned back, "until we finish this book."

Sirius huffed again, and Regulus laughed to realize he still recognized that gleam of challenge in his brother's eye. "I imagine that won't be any easier to stop him talking that long."

Potter threw his hands in the air in frustration before turning to him and snapping, "can I help you?"

"No," Regulus shrugged, "just watching."

"Well I'm so glad you're enjoying the show," he grumbled, turning back to Padfoot with actual sternness in his voice that surprised him, he really hadn't thought Potter had it in him. "I mean it Padfoot, you do not change back until I say so, you got really messed up, and I want you to wait. Better safe than sorry."

His brother finally let out a huge bursting sigh, but nodded and hopped off the bed still on all fours. He reared up and snagged the book on his way out, tail held jauntily in the air with an odd bit of smugness Regulus couldn't guess at. Did he think he could read that while barking at them?

The two walked into the kitchen amongst several odd stares, but Peter explained before he could while making a plate, "James wants him to wait, better safe than sorry."

It wasn't so funny anymore hearing them both say the same thing back to back in the exact same weary tone.

"Okay," Alice drew the word out a bit, but finally set up a plate, hesitated a moment, and just put it on the floor. Padfoot pounced on it and was licking the plate clean in moments, but in fairness, he did that even when he didn't have that kind of tongue just to annoy people.

The bathroom in the scullery was only a toilet, sink, and medicine cabinet, so sadly nobody got a shower this time, but Remus considered that a good thing as he shuffled along, James probably would have followed him in there as he stayed right behind him. It was a miracle he didn't have his hand on his back like an invalid.

He'd blindly dumped half a jar of brown sugar onto his eggs and scarfed down those before finally some real life began to stir in him, and he blinked around in confusion muttering, "how are we back in the Weasleys' kitchen?"

"Magic Moony, keep up," Peter snickered as he dumped yet more ketchup across his eggs, the plate looked more like a bloody mess than the werewolf's.

James properly explained their new theory, and by then everyone had finally slowed in their eating, if not stopped altogether.

Remus had nothing to argue against any of that as he scraped his fork uneasily across his plate for a moment before finally putting his dishes away and going over to Padfoot to fetch the book. He figured people were going to be glaring at him regardless from now on, may as well pretend in his own head it was at that.

Padfoot had been waiting for just such a thing, and quickly snagged up the book he'd kept under him while eating, and took off to the opposite side of the kitchen. "Oh no, we are not doing this again!" His face was almost luminescent pale, despite the sleep and food he still seemed only passably functional, but there was a genuine smile on his face as he effed his own words and started after him.

The game didn't last long, no one was in doubt Padfoot was going easy on him and let himself be cornered after only one romp around the kitchen, but finally Remus bent down and grabbed the book. Even Sirius didn't dare play tug of war with such a precious thing as their escape, and he let the slightly soggy mess splat to the ground.

"You're disgusting," Remus told him pleasantly.

The dog barked a laugh, did a little spin on the spot, and then went over to plop down in front of the still hot stove. He was still smiling as he eased back to the table and almost forgot to tense up at putting all attention on him as he read, "The Eye of the Snake."

"Oh great, what does Malfoy do to annoy him now," Regulus huffed under his breath. He'd already gotten Harry kicked off the quidditch team, a grievous insult that even he would have decked his fellow student for. Malfoy had been a sore loser from the beginning and even this was still a new low.

"Erm," Frank surprised them all by clearing his throat, and almost meeting Lupin's eyes without flinching. "I'm ah, curious, but um, how do you, I mean, what do you remember, well, we can't read when we're not all awake, so-"

"Well, technically, he is awake," Potter stated, eyeing him oddly, his tone much more sarcastic than waspish, but Longbottom had sounded nothing but curious, so he was trying to restrain himself.

"I remember," Remus answered much more quietly but sincerely, eyes twitching to a few more bits of toast left, to Frank, to the book like he couldn't decide what to address. "Hagrid came back and told where he'd been, Umbridge was an arse. The details are fuzzy and vague, but," he shrugged and finally settled on telling the book he remembered what had transgressed, fighting back the urge to scream as the pain had been the most clear in his head, and Padfoot wouldn't have had to restrain him like that except for the worst of reasons. Something had nearly gone very wrong, he hadn't needed James to tell him that.

He decided against elaborating that he did remember things better when he'd eaten, he didn't think Longbottom would want to know that. It had only happened a few times anyways, he'd come across a few predators that met Moony's liking, like a blood-sucking bugbear or even an acromantula that was only human-sized, more for the challenge and then eating the kill for victory rather than actually having a taste for it. They all knew what Moony really had a craving for.

Nobody interrupted him again as he started, the trio worrying about Hagrid's coming lessons and the range of possibilities of how he'd get fired for basically anything he brought to class.

The lesson turned out to be fantastic though, as it went over Thestrals.

"I've heard of those!" Remus exclaimed with the most energy yet, though really it was a miracle that amount of sugar he'd ingested hadn't done that already. "My dad's mentioned them, you can only see them if you've seen death."

His grin slipped away though as he muttered, "oh," in surprise, now eyeing Peter and Longbottom.

"Guess your dad never actually described them as creepy, skeleton, horse-looking things," Peter sighed.

"Nope, he's just mentioned them in passing. Ah, sorry, again," he finished sheepishly.

Peter just shrugged and helped himself to more juice. He'd never held anything against his friends, he wasn't going to start with that. A part of him still remembered how resentful he'd been feeling right before his catastrophe of a future was spelled out, and he'd spent many an alone hour worrying how that had built up and turned him into someone who could do that to James.

"Who did you see die?" Regulus blurted in surprise.

James twitched like he wanted to reach across the table and slap the idiot on the neck, even Padfoot huffed and eyed the heel of his brother's shoe with temptation and they all suddenly realized what a bad idea having him run around with available sharp teeth was.

Peter didn't seem bothered by it though, answering casually enough, "my Uncle Pierce*. He'd been sickly for ages and bedridden for that week, Mum told me not to go in there, but I did, guess it was just bad timing I happened to be watching him when he, you know, wasn't sleeping anymore. I was ten," he finished with a casual shrug that he hoped hid well how he'd come blubbering into the living room to his mother about his Uncle starting to look funny.

His friends had heard this before, but Remus still felt like an idiot and was kicking himself as he kept going he'd never put that together as he eagerly read the descriptions of them again and all of Hagrid's fun facts.

Alice laid her hand on Frank's, rubbing her thumb over his knuckles with a silent question, but he merely answered by kissing hers in return and turning quietly to ask Lily if she wanted to play that card game again. He'd tell her, just maybe not now, she already had a dislike for his mum and this probably wouldn't make things better.

Lily had barely gotten the cards clear from her pocket though when everyone really was scowling at the book in Lupin's hands just like he'd wanted as Umbridge arrived, and made even more of an arse of herself than usual.

"That woman has no bounds," Lily seethed, nearly crumpling the queen of hearts up in her fist before correcting herself.

"Can hardly believe someone so bloody awful exists, treating him like that in his own class, and we've been living with You-Know-Who murdering people by the day in our Daily Prophet," Alice agreed with quiet ferocity.

Frank just winced, but not for the reason everyone but Alice assumed. He now thought himself being just as bad as her, the way he'd treated Lupin, but certainly wasn't sympathizing with her like Potter's glare insinuated. He wanted to correct him, but the words 'I don't think your friend wants to eat me anymore' sounded obtuse to his own ears.

Their terse mutters and grumbles weren't making this better though, so Lily offered offhand and absolutely casual if Pettigrew and Potter wanted to be dealt in.

Peter agreed, he'd even heard of the game they'd been playing, but James opted out and tipped the chair back, rocking it casually as he watched everyone, especially her, with open interest once more. He still didn't know what she meant by it, that plate of food from before his nap, nor just casually speaking in his direction at all! It's not like he expected her gratitude at protecting her out there, he'd do it for anyone for Moony's sake.

It killed something inside of him to even turn down this offer and enjoy her attention freely, surely they could even partner up on whatever this game was, but Remus was already shuffling uncomfortably at having put himself the center of attention like the idiot they knew he was, but he'd been as aware as Padfoot he was going to do this to himself just to prove how normal he was when he woke up. At least him not playing along didn't make Remus feel so singled out. That didn't mean he wasn't slightly tempted to push the idiot out of the chair and have him sit on the floor with Padfoot, all attention would be off him anyways, win win for everyone-

Regulus had eaten no less than half the loaf of bread with just butter and cinnamon, and soon began regretting it as his stomach swirled when the pleasant DA lesson ended and the book spiraled into territory he'd certainly never expected this to go in, and was clearly the only one. Everyone around him was laughing and tittering softly about Harry's first kiss with Cho, when Regulus had dropped half his hand in surprise.

The good mood wasn't meant to last in anyone as Harry went off to bed, and his thoughts weren't able to linger on girls much longer at the following nightmare.

Potter tipped his chair over in surprise, Padfoot jumped to his feet, hackles raised but no snakes to fight off in here, the rest of them stayed still as statues when Arthur Weasley was attacked, and in the deadly silence that followed as McGonagall arrived for Harry, Remus loathed finishing the last sentence as he looked one more time around the homey kitchen with dread, he wasn't the only one wondering if they'd ever come back here again.

HPHPHPHP

*Do I in fact imagine that Pierce Polkiss may be a Jr., and is some relative of Peter's, considering they're both described with a rat like face? Yes, yes I do.

#Harry Potter #fanfiction #reading the books #HP #OotP #Marauders #Wolfstar #Jilly #Padfoot #James Potter #remus Lupin #Sirius BLack #Peter Pettigrew #Regulus Black #Frank Longbottom #Alice Smith #LIly Evans

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malkumtend · 4 years

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I Like Your Laugh - Chapter 9.

“So?” Squirrelpaw began, horribly masking the exhaustion from her voice. “Is this what it’s always like in Windclan?”

Crowpaw turned, staring at the molly stonily. “Yes. But normally we haven’t been travelling for days on end.”

“Hmm.” Squirrelpaw was not impressed by his answer. “So, no advice on how to deal with this heat then?”

“No.”

The Thunderclan molly groaned, her head dipping down towards the ground again. It was getting too tiring to even hold her head up. It had been a while since they had left the forest bordering the Twolegplace, and they’d been traveling on the open country hills since Sunhigh. Now, it was getting close to moonrise. The blue sky had slowly changed into a burning orange, but the heat of the sun persisted, surely draining every inch of energy out of the group as they continued to walk in the direction of the glistening yellow orb.

Every cat was clearly beginning to tire. They could practically sense the pain in each other’s paws and feel the growing heat soaking in their fur. Each walked with low heads and tails, even Brambleclaw was starting to look like he was losing his breath, despite his evident desire to look strong at the lead of the group. Squirrelpaw almost found it admirable, despite his general attitude.

But it wasn’t like she could speak. Her mouth was dry and she found herself licking her chapped lips after every fox-length in order to keep a part of herself cool. Starclan, she was thirsty. But there would be no water on these hills; not even a single drop.

Brambleclaw’s ear had flickered at her and Crowpaw’s conversation and he looked back, eyes narrowed but too dry with fatigue to look remotely fearsome. “There’s no use complaining about it.” He said gloomily, “We just have to carry on until moonrise.”

“And then what?” Stormfur remarked, “Do we even have any idea how far away the sun-drown place is from here?” No cat needed to answer him. The grey warrior sighed, “I can’t even smell anything anymore, just the hills. It could be a moon before we even get there.”

Out of the tense silence that followed, Brambleclaw bared his teeth at the warrior.

“It won’t do you any good to say that!” The brown tom snapped; his head twisted away with a rugged groan. “There’s no way we can turn back now!”

Stormfur let out a soft breath, blinking sluggishly, “I wasn’t suggesting that.”

Brambleclaw scoffed gruffly, “I know you’re thinking about it.”

Stormfur didn’t respond. Of course he was thinking about it. Every cat, no matter how little they wanted to admit it, had thought about the defeat of giving up and turning back. None of them wanted to consider it, but after so much endless, aimless walking the heat and pain was slowly cracking at their resolve which was now as delicate as a freshly laid bird’s egg.

Squirrelpaw looked around at the group, apart from Brambleclaw, everyone looked ready to drop where they were in exhaustion. She felt a mixture of respect and irritation for her clanmate. She could understand how much he wanted to believe in Starclan and follow through on their quest, but he just couldn’t accept how drained the rest of them were. Squirrelpaw was not going to give up either, but she could see the hunger clouding the cats that would soon lead to further injuries if they weren’t careful.

Just behind her brother, Tawnypelt tried to sound supportive. “Brambleclaw, no cat wants to turn back. We’re just tired.”

“I’m tired too.” Brambleclaw said, turning to his sister hotly. “But we can’t afford to suspect the worst, or else it’ll be over for all of us.” His tone hollowed and he looked towards the sun again with a broken pattern of breaths.

The group could tell he was convincing himself more than them.

Squirrelpaw felt Crowpaw nudge her. She flushed absently. “Guess he’s starting to realise how hard it is being a leader.” The tom mewed softly.

“Mhmm.” Squirrelpaw murmured. It was becoming more and more obvious just how stressed Brambleclaw had become; it wasn’t just how quick to temper he was. His proud structure had sagged with his neck slanting like a dead branch. His steps had become small, sapping every time his paw hit the hot grass. The confidence he had shown in front of Purdy was gone, now he looked just as hopeless as cats he was trying to lead.

But he was still forcing himself to look strong, which made the weight of his movement so much heavier.

“Still, maybe we should stop to hunt at least.” Feathertail asked. The normally soft voice was jaded and dry. Squirrelpaw felt her stomach groan at the mention of hunting. No cat had eaten since that morning and they all smacked their lips at the thought of warm meat and blood.

“I think we should make some more ground before moonhigh.” Brambleclaw explained, frowning at the Riverclan cat.

Feathertail shrugged, “What’s the difference? We know which way we need to go and we’ve already said that we don’t know how far it will be before we even get close to the sun-drown place.”

Brambleclaw looked to his side, “Maybe, but-”

“The path there isn’t going away, Brambleclaw.” The cats all felt a prickle of surprise. Feathertail wasn’t the kind of cat to normally interrupt anyone. “But we all need to eat something soon. You must see that.”

Brambleclaw looked determined to argue further, then his mouth closed as he noticed the cat’s begin to mutter between themselves in agreement. His eyes narrowed, but his gaze dropped away. Squirrelpaw hoped that, outside of his pride, he was able to admit to himself that he was as starved as the rest of them.

She could hope. But he would never show it.

He huffed, but he kept his words calm. “Okay, yeah, you’re right.” He admitted with what could be assumed as self-righteous graciousness. “We need our strength, I’m sorry Feathertail.” He seemed genuine but it was hard for Squirrelpaw to tell by how Brambleclaw’s tail waved crossly across the grass.

“You don’t have to apologise.” Feathertail mewed, either too tired or too kind to create an argument. Brambleclaw nodded, a sheepish look in his eyes.

“I suppose we should split up then?” Stormfur asked, already walking over to where his sister was, hope shining in his eyes. “Hunt for ourselves?”

Feathertail smiled at her brother but found herself looking over where Squirrelpaw and Crowpaw stood. Squirrelpaw tittered, waving her white paw at the Warrior. “Go on! Me and Crowpaw will be fine.”

Wait…

Her and Crowpaw… alone. Had that thought always made her insides scurry like a dormouse?

She shook her pelt. It was just hunting with her friend, they’d done it before, it wasn’t any different this time.

Feathertail glanced up at Crowpaw, as if waiting for his confirmation. Maybe hoping that he wanted her to come along, Squirrelpaw wondered. She internally screamed at herself. Oh, Fox-Dung, so that had returned!

Crowpaw’s tail swung in thought, softly meeting Feathertail’s gaze and opening his mouth to say something. Then he glanced over at Stormfur’s stony expression and his mouth closed. He thought again. The apprentice smirked. “Yeah, go ahead. It wouldn’t hurt Stormfur to see how a Warrior can catch prey bigger than a kit’s claw.”

“Go chew on your tail, frog-brain!” Stormfur snapped, his fur prickling with fury. His head dropped when Feathertail giggled at the apprentice’s joke.

The Riverclan molly seemed to think it over a moment longer, then she smiled at her two friends and turned to her brother with a comforting purr. “Come on, Stormfur. Don’t lose your whiskers over that.”

The grey tom growled once more, but he soon calmed down as he followed his sister. “We’ll go over this way.”

“See you later!” Squirrelpaw called, watching as the white and grey pelts shrank in the grassland.

“You’ll be off with him then, I suppose.” A bitter voice hissed.

Squirrelpaw could feel Crowpaw’s fur rise even before she faced Brambleclaw. She’d really hoped she wouldn’t have to argue with him anymore today. The Tom’s frown was stiff and discomforting, amber eyes gawking sharply into her.

“Brambleclaw.” Tawnypelt warned, padding up to him cautiously.

“Is there a problem with that?” Squirrelpaw goaded, her tail curling as she challenged the tom’s stare.

Brambleclaw’s lip curled, “Oh no, of course not.” Brambleclaw gibed, looking away half-heartedly. One eye travelled to meet her, glowing inside an ominous slint. “It’s just good to see where your loyalties lie, that’s all.”

Squirrelpaw’s gaze iced.

‘Especially a loud mouthed one.’

‘She didn’t help herself, after all, shaking like a leaf.’

‘I don’t need to explain myself to you, you’re an apprentice.’

Anger tightened Squirrelpaw’s stomach. Despite everything he had said to her, she had tried her best to be nice to him. And he had rejected every kindness she’d offered.

Yet somehow, he found a way to blame her.

“What did you say?!” Crowpaw started forward, his face full of bloodlust. The apprentice’s claws unsheathed and Squirrelpaw could sense he was determined to rake his claws across the Warrior’s throat. As much as she wanted to see her clanmate pay for his words, it would do no good for Crowpaw to spill blood when he was clearly exhausted.

She stepped ahead of the apprentice, ushering him back with her tail. She could feel Crowpaw’s muscles tense, but he kept still. She stared on at her clanmate, as cold and bitter as saltwater. “You don’t have the right to say that to me.” She hissed, already beginning to turn away. She didn’t have to waste her time on him. She prodded Crowpaw with her tail, beckoning him to follow. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Brambleclaw notice this with a hiss of hurt and disgust.

“I’m your clanmate and a Warrior; I think I do!” The tom snarled.

“And I told you before,” Squirrelpaw meowed tonelessly, “I’d treat you like that when you acted like it. Until then, I don’t give a mouse-tail what you think.” She gave him a passive glimpse. “Besides, we’re in the moors. Crowpaw will be more use here than you’ve ever been.”

Momentarily, Squirrelpaw questioned if she’d gone too far after a clear upset sting panged across her clanmate’s face. But the vicious snarl he created within seconds made her throw away that idea into the dirtplace.

Also, it did feel wonderful when she saw Crowpaw grin at her remark.

“Oh yes, you’ll make a fine warrior with that attitude! We’ll see how much those flowers mean when we get back!” Brambleclaw yowled after her. Squirrelpaw held her tongue, ignoring the Warrior. Though she could make out the frantic scolding of Tawnypelt as she sauntered away.

“You’re one to talk about attitude!” Crowpaw spat back heatedly, baring his fangs at the Warrior one last time before following Squirrelpaw. “Rabbit-brain.” He muttered under his breath.

“Don’t waste your breath.” Squirrelpaw advised, though her tail curled in appreciation at how quick Crowpaw was to defend her. “With this sun, you’ll need it for hunting.”

The dark grey cat grumbled, “He acts like he’s a mentor! I can’t stand it!” Crowpaw whipped his tail violently behind him, “He thinks he’s so special, ordering us all around as if he’s a Deputy!”

Squirrelpaw wouldn’t ever disagree with the cat. Brambleclaw had just been getting worse as the days went on. She didn’t understand why the others weren’t as bothered about it as her or Crowpaw. “You don’t need to tell me twice. Be thankful he’s not your clanmate.”

Squirrelpaw felt her face heat up when Crowpaw looked back up at her again. His brow furrowed, creased with protective conviction. “I swear to Starclan, if he treats you like that when we get back to the forest, you make sure you tear his fur off. It’d be my pleasure to help you do it!”

Squirrelpaw laughed, flashing a brash grin. “Thanks, but I’m on it. When I become a Warrior, I’ll make sure he knows he can’t treat me like a kit anymore!” She wasn’t afraid of the tom anymore, the only reason she hadn’t clawed his ears already was that she wouldn’t allow herself to cause divisions in the group over his sake.

Crowpaw made a sound that seemed close to that all to wonderful laugh. “Good! I’d rake through the dirtplace if it meant I could see that fool get a mark or two on his pelt!”

“Well, when you find a rabbit, you can pretend it’s him!” Squirrelpaw quipped, rubbing his pelt against his playfully.

Crowpaw gave a mock gasp of horror, “Are you hare-brained?! That would be too cruel to the rabbit.”

They both laughed with each other. It was becoming more normal.

They padded away, both internally promising to not go too far for fear of losing the scent of the group. That turned out to be easier than expected. Stormfur had been right; the sun had seemed to dry out the air around them, making the scents faint and difficult to cling to. Squirrelpaw let out a soft breath, it was going to be hard to hunt when they couldn’t find prey scents to begin with.

“Anything?” She whispered hopefully. Low to the ground, Crowpaw shook his head but didn’t relax in the slightest. His pelt was on edge, prepared, waiting for something.

“Just wait a moment.” Crowpaw murmured, his whiskers directed high to the air.

Squirrelpaw watched transfixed, trusting. The grey cat’s whiskers drifted with the light breeze of the wind, imitating the swaying grass, then as if turned by the shifting tide, the wind changed, dragging Crowpaw’s whiskers with them. His tail twitched and he crouched down; his whiskers brushing along the grass.

Straightening up, eyes fixed, Crowpaw faced Squirrelpaw again. “This way.” He concluded, nudging her with his tail to follow him. Squirrelpaw’s eyes narrowed in confusion.

“How do you know?” She sniffed the air again and couldn’t find anything.

Crowpaw smirked, cocky but not incredibly condescending. “In the moors, the scents go across the grass with the wind. All you need to do is be facing the right direction and you can find prey that are tree-lengths away.”

Squirrelpaw blinked, “You’re pulling my tail. I’ve never heard of that.”

“You don’t need to. This land isn’t your home.”

True, but Squirrelpaw still wasn’t convinced. She must have looked it too, as Crowpaw stopped walking.

“Give it a try.” He said, too composed to be lying.

Squirrelpaw tried her best to imitate what she saw, waiting for the wind to stroke her whiskers before pressing them near to the grass. She didn’t need to wait a moment before her nose twitched at a faint trace of prey.

“Fox-dung.” She was relieved, but she still whined.

“You were saying?” Came the good-natured jeer.

Squirrelpaw rose brashly, now stuck on the same trail Crowpaw had found. “If you need the wind to hunt properly, it’s no wonder you’re so skinny.” She said, sticking out her tongue at the apprentice, before walking ahead, taking the lead.

“Yeah, that’s real mature.” He followed her, strides short and comfortable.

But even though Squirrelpaw was trying to look disinterested, she had to praise Crowpaw’s technique when it had granted them with a large rabbit, caught and dispatched within minutes.

Squirrelpaw licked the blood from her fangs, quivering as the tasted gave her a sudden burst of energy. “That’s better.”

Crowpaw looked over the prey, glancing around with a stiff expression. He faced the air again, but his whiskers barely swayed at all. “The wind’s dying down, it’s going to be harder to catch another if that sun gets any worse.” His relaxed look didn’t match his next words at all. “You want to share this one?”

Smiling, laughing, sharing. Squirrelpaw was finding it harder to believe this was Crowpaw but it didn’t stop her from taking up his offer within the first beat of her pacing heart.

With every bite, Squirrelpaw felt her tiredness ease, and her muscles begin to stiffen comfortably. Hopefully, the others had been just as successful with their hunts; it was going to be a long night otherwise. In the, admittedly too often, glances she’d snuck at Crowpaw, she found that he was gulping his share down as quickly as he could. Already he’d stripped one leg down to the bone.

“You going to chew any of that, Crowpaw?”

After gulping down half a foot, he answered. “Sorry.” He didn’t sound sorry, more far off than anything. “You take your time, I’m in no rush to see your clanmate again.”

She felt like she was meant to laugh. She didn’t. “What’s up?” From the dim gaze to the twitching whiskers, Squirrelpaw was able to catch onto when something had Crowpaw riled. She still didn’t know if she entirely knew what to do to cheer him up.

He didn’t answer straight away, only after a stoic pause with a bite and a tear and a swallow. “How long is it going to take now?”

Squirrelpaw bit softly on the inside of her cheek. Of course. “I wish I knew.” She took another bite, hoping the flavours would sate the uneasiness creeping on her back. “It’s like they said earlier, it could be days, it could be moons in fact.”

“Well that’s comforting.”

“You asked.”

Crowpaw swallowed less forcefully, “I just wonder what’s going on back at home.”

Squirrelpaw stared at the floor, trying to imagine what it was like back in Thunderclan; what was it like for her parents or for Leafpaw? She could only hope for the best. She couldn’t think that Starclan was going to send them on this journey only for it to mean nothing in the end.

Well, she hoped not at least.

Hoping. There was a lot of it these days.

“I know how you feel.” Squirrelpaw purred, “But we can’t just lose faith in Starclan. We’ve got to get there, no matter how long it takes, even if that does mean spending moons with your grumpy face.”

“Hey!” Cropaw scolded, though his voice was soft. “I haven’t lost faith in Starclan. I’m just sick of going nowhere.”

“Well, there’s a somewhere at the end of nowhere, Rabbit-brain.” Squirrelpaw chirped. She was as sick of everything as he was, but she had to stay positive about it, especially when confronted with a cat as moody as her friend.

Crowpaw frowned, tilting his head at her. “Doesn’t do us much good until then, though, does it?”

“Well it’s all we’ve got for now.” Squirrelpaw said, swallowing her words like a bone. It was aggravating, but it would do no good to lie. “Just try to relax and you might be able to sleep for once.”

Crowpaw sniffed but he also laughed. Squirrelpaw counted that as a win. He pulled away from the bones now littered in front of him. “I’m done. Don’t rush for me, I can wait.”

“Oh, you’re such a gentletom.” Squirrelpaw said with a mocking reverence, ignoring that she actually meant it. Crowpaw stuck his tongue back out at her, but his eyes were warm and inviting. Squirrelpaw felt her heart stutter again.

What was going on with her? It was becoming way too frequent now that this tom could cause her brazen attitude, that she had perfected over moons and seasons, to crack even a little. It had never been something that hit her even once before, never to this degree at least.

But as he looked, not stared, just a the few glances he struck her with, as she ate, Squirrelpaw’s face felt like water boiling under the sun of Crowpaw’s grin.

It maybe shouldn’t have been a surprise to her. This cat hadn’t been the Crowpaw she’d known before in any way or whisker. That Crowpaw had been an enemy. This cat was one she would maybe even call one of her best friends.

Maybe that was why she didn’t want this journey to end so soon.

It was nice that the flower would be there to remind her of her friends, but Squirrelpaw knew it would never be the same. Not really anyway. Even if they met through patrols or gatherings, it would be under a thousand watching eyes, all judging and making sure they never went to far against their loyalty to the clan.

It’s just good to see where your loyalties lie.

Her hunger suddenly faded underneath, perhaps motioned on by the clouds drifting above them, minutes from blocking the sun. More likely perturbed by reality.

She wanted to tell herself that being a warrior was her greatest duty, and that completing this journey was all that she was ever meant to focus on. That was clearly why Starclan favoured Bramblelclaw over her, anyway. She had the chance to prove to her clan how she could and would live up to the name of her father. She could be his reflection rather than his shadow.

But, when this was all over, what would it be that she’d remember?

She didn’t see this journey as an opportunity to prove herself anymore, she now looked back on the past, all that she could focus on were the friends she had made.

Friends that would naturally leave.

Did that thought hurt them as much as it did her? She’d probably never know.

And it would be best not to ask. Just because she had problems left to sort out with her clan didn’t mean she had to drag other innocent cats into it. She was strong enough to deal with it on her own.

“Are you finished?”

Squirrelpaw looked up to Crowpaw’s patient expression. She examined the prey, there wasn’t much left now, besides she was full enough.

“Yeah, let’s get back to the others.” She stretched her stiff back, sighing from the sudden feeling of her full stomach. “Much better.”

Crowpaw stood up as well, leading the way with a shrewd sneer. “So, it looks like you Thunderclan cats actually could learn from us after all, huh?”

Squirrelpaw scoffed, her tail flaring. “Yeah, yeah. What do you want? A stroke on the ears?” She pouted at him. “I’d consider us even after I was the one who taught you how to stalk instead of swallowing muck.”

Crowpaw’s smile dropped, he groaned to his side. “You’re never going to let that go.”

Squirrelpaw leapt beside him with a smirk. “Besides, I’ve been able to catch your prey now. I bet you’d never be able to catch ours.”

“What? You mean I’ll never have mole breath? Oh, what a shame.”

“Try birds, flea-brain.” Squirrelpaw snapped back.

Crowpaw shrugged, his tail swaying coolly. “Eh, rabbits make for a better meal.”

Oh, he wasn’t getting away that easily! “Spoken like a true tail-chaser.” Squirrelpaw perked her nose up for effect.

It worked. Crowpaw’s right eye twitched and his smile looked much more artificial. “If I wanted to catch one of your little sparrows, I could! But there’s no trees for them to roost on near Winclan!” He insisted, making use of the small height he had above Squirrelpaw as he looked down at her.

“Hmm, I’ve heard better excuses.” She winked. “Why don’t you show me?”

Crowpaw’s brow furrowed, “How am I supposed to show you? There’s no trees around here!”

Squirrelpaw walked on as if disinterested, her tail curling under Crowpaw’s chin. “Oh, don’t worry, Crowpaw. You don’t need to make anymore silly excuses for me. I won’t judge you.” Her voice sounded as if she had drained all the sugar out of a stalk and was now spitting it onto the grey apprentice.

Crowpaw drew a sharp breath, now fully pulled into Squirrelpaw’s trick. “Okay then.” He drawled; one eye cold on the molly. “Then, most divine robin catcher, please do tell me; how do you such amazing cats catch those birds? I’ll catch on, no problem!”

Squirrelpaw’s tail flicked in victory. She was going to enjoy this. “Oh, I suppose I could tell you. As long as you don’t come stealing our prey that is.”

“Same goes to you, vole-brain.” Crowpaw shot back, his smirk becoming more genuine.

Squirrelpaw’s eyes brightened with delight. “Okay then, watch this!” She took a few paces away from him and got into a stalking position. She slowly crawled, facing imaginary prey. “First, we stalk the bird once we spot in in the tree.” She lowered her voice dramatically. “We slooowwwly crawl up to it, making sure it doesn’t see us.”

“What mystical advice.” Crowpaw said dryly, though his mouth snapped shut at Squirrelpaw’s thunderous look.

“Anyway as soon as we get close enough,” She paused, getting into a pouncing crouch and tensing her legs with all the power she could. Instantly she burst into the air, wrapping her paws around her invisible prey. “We use the bark to give use some more power, grab the bird by it’s feathers and drag it down!” She exclaimed, snapping her jaws on her imaginary bird. She pretended to chew viciously for a moment before getting back to her paws with a proud chuckle. “That’s how it’s done.”

Crowpaw rose a brow, thoroughly unamused. “That’s it. That’s simple.”

Squirrelpaw pretended to look offeneded, but internally she was giggling. “Alright then, show me how well you do it.”

The Windclan apprentice rolled his eyes, “Sure.” He shook his pelt, crouching down to mimic Squirrelpaw’s stalking. The Thunderclan cat took the opportunity to go behind him while he was distracted, making sure her own paws were quiet along the grass.

“Ah ah ah,” Squirrelpaw tutted, “Stalk it more slowly.” She heard Crowpaw groan under his breath and he followed her instructions. All while Squirrelpaw stalked him. The molly grinned darkly from behind, getting her hind muscles ready again.

“Okay, so I’ve stalked it slowly,” He mimicked mockingly, “So now I just-”

“Pounce!”

Crowpaw only had half a moment before Squirrelpaw landed on him, where he was able to twist around to face the grinning beast leaping at him. She collided against his chest, pressing onto it with both her paws. She landed on top of him, holding him down with two paws on his shoulders, but not painfully hard.

Squirrelpaw threw her head back with a triumphant laugh as Crowpaw snarled beneath her. “That was a dirty move!” The tom yowled; his fur ruffled under the cat.

Squirrelpaw craned her head down to give the tom a half-lidded grin. “It’s you’re fault for not seeing that coming.”

Crowpaw growled with clear irritation, but there was no hostility in his gaze, unlike when he had pounced at her when they’d first met. It was clear that Crowpaw wasn’t going to fight. That actually made Squirrelpaw feel a little guilty, she’d thought it would do the tom good to have a little excitement. She just wanted to have some fun with him.

The she realised what was going on. That she was above Crowpaw, staring right into his eyes, with the tender pads of her paws buried into the soft fur of his chest. Soft and warm. Her heart stuttered again and her strength on the cat relaxed.

Big mistake.

Immediately, Crowpaw’s eyes burst with fire and he twisted upwards, catching the molly by surprise. She yelped as she felt his paws press against her chest, pushing her down onto her back. It didn’t hurt when her head hit the soft grass, but she was instantly aware of the slight force now holding her down.

Her eyes opened and she caught his spirited expression directly above her. His blue eyes were furrowed with proud mischief. “And you shouldn’t let your guard down so easily.” He piped, grinning down at her with satisfaction.

If her heart was stuttering before, it was losing breath now. Her chest heaved as she felt him above her. She took in his soft fur again, the misty calmness inside the ocean blues of his gaze, when it was directly above her his smile gleamed so much more.

He had pinned her, but she didn’t feel embarrassed. Not in the way a warrior should.

She even found herself smiling back, laughing along with him. When they looked at each other, there wasn’t any animosity, no challenge, just a peace that came between friends.

Her fur was messed up, but it was her that was ruffled.

Squirrelpaw tried to sound playful behind her blush. “Now who’s playing dirty.”

Crowpaw sank in closer to her with a wink. “I’d call us even, wouldn’t you?”

He laughed again. That beautiful laugh that held the same joy she felt.

If only she’d kept a better eye of her surroundings. She may have noticed the heavy paws thundering towards them.

“WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!!” Came the thunderous growl.

Crowpaw only had time to flick his ear before the barrage of fur and muscle slammed into his side.

Squirrelpaw swept her eyes in horror as she saw her friend struggle desperately as he thrashed under the strong paws of Brambleclaw. His paws scrambled at the Warrior’s underbelly with his hind paws trying to shake him off, but Brambeclaw didn’t even flinch, holding down the apprentice with a heavy paw on his neck.

“Why did you attack her?!” The Warrior yowled, slamming Crowpaw’s head back down into the grass, causing the flower to dislodge from Crowpaw’s fur and flail away from the fight. The apprentice buckled under the force, but he continued struggling, thrashing as wildly as he could.

“Get off me!” The apprentice hissed, trying to rid himself of the paw painfully pressing his face into the dirt.

“You had her pinned down! You attacked her!” Brambleclaw snarled, he looked ready to lodge his teeth into Crowpaw’s throat.

Squirrelpaw looked on in horror, straight on her friend hopelessly grunting and writhing for freedom. She scrambled up to her paws, ready to help, when she saw a flash of brown and black dart past her towards the fighting cats.

“Brambleclaw!” Tawnypelt screeched, neck spiked, “Stop it!” She bit down on her brother’s scruff, trying her best to drag the furious tom from the smaller cat. Brambleclaw made no effort to quell in his attack, fixing himself down with his claws. They latched onto Crowpaw’s chest making him cry out in pain.

Whatever trance Squirrelpaw was in was ripped away as anger stormed inside her chest. She raced to the scene, not noticing Feathertail and Stormfur appear from the area where Tawnypelt had ran from.

“Oh Starclan, Crowpaw!” The Riverclan molly screamed with a newfound urgency.

“What’s going on here?!” Stormfur exclaimed, following quickly behind his sister as they both surged to stop the fight as well.

Luckily, Tawnypelt was enough as she finally pulled with enough strength to make Brambleclaw lose grip of his opponent. Crowpaw took the time to give a last furious swipe at Brambleclaw’s belly before scrambling away. Squirrelpaw sprinted to him, looking over the panting apprentice, his fur was ruffled badly and there would certainly be some scars left on him by tomorrow.

“Are you okay?” Feathertail squeaked, pressing her nose against her friend’s fur.

Crowpaw didn’t answer, too busy reclaiming his breath, and glaring with incredible ferocity at the Thunderclan Warrior.

Brambleclaw glared back over the pelts of Stormfur and Tawnypelt, both holding the tom back. “Is he okay?! He attacked Squirrelpaw!”

Stormfur looked back at the apprentice icily. “He did what?”

Brambleclaw bared his teeth, “He had her pinned down, I saw it myself!”

Squirrelpaw rose up, her fangs clear as she hissed maliciously. She wasn’t going to let him try and turn the group against Crowpaw when he’d done nothing wrong. “No, he didn’t! We were just sparring!”

Whatever distrust the cats had of Crowpaw subsided as Squirrelpaw rushed to his defence. Even Stormfur’s harsh stare softened as the ginger apprentice questioned her clanmate. Brambleclaw froze, but his eyes still blazed with rage.

“But he was on top of you! He had you pinned!” Brambleclaw’s ire set back on the wounded apprentice. “I knew it was stupid to think you wouldn’t lose your mind at some point! You’ve always been looking for trouble!”

Crowpaw looked as if he wanted to become as wild as a tornado, but when he tried to stand he winced from the scratches embedded in his shoulders and his side. Squirrelpaw’s heart panged with worry and anger, turning on her clanmate with unsheathed claws.

“He wasn’t hurting me, you fox-brain!” Squirrelpaw yowled, keeping her body between the apprentice and Brambleclaw. She would be the one tearing out the Warrior’s fur before Crowpaw, that was certain. “Maybe if you’d actually bothered to look you might have noticed!”

“What I saw,” Brambleclaw muttered, as cold as frost, “Was a Windclan cat attack my clanmate! I had every reason to get involved!”

Squirrelpaw’s snarl was so vicious her gums were visible. Brambleclaw was not going to find a way to justify this. She could deal with whatever stupid comments came out of his trap, but he had attacked her friend! This was enough! “The only one attacking anyone was you!”

Brambleclaw’s jaw hung, he stammered, as if searching for a way to reason his anger. But Tawnypelt’s angry face burst in front of him. “That’s enough! Face it Brambleclaw, why would she be defending him if he had really attacked her? You made a mistake.” The Shadowclan Warrior seethed, her mouth contacting in a warning. “An extremely stupid mistake! Have you forgotten your own advice of how we should be working together instead of fighting?”

“A mistake? I was trying to help her!”

“I didn’t need your help!” Squirrelpaw growled, once again stung by Brambleclaw’s lack of faith in her abilities. “I can fight my own battles, and when I do it won’t be for no reason at all!”

Brambleclaw looked between the glares of his sister and his clanmate, the adrenaline of the fight dimming as his ears went flat against his head. He looked towards Stormfur, but the tom only returned a small frown his way. There would be no one to back him up here, not when Squirrelpaw so passionately denied his reasoning.

The Warrior’s breaths slowed as his muscles began to relax. Sensing no more fighting would occur, Tawnypelt and Stormfur eased away, but not enough to allow Brambleclaw an easy run at his opponent. The Thunderclan tom glanced at all the furious faces staring him down, and a brief flash of shame oozed from him. But as soon as his eyes settled on Crowpaw again, he darkened again fiercely turning his gaze between the two apprentices’.

“It is my duty as a Warrior, to protect my clanmate when I see them in danger.” Brambleclaw drawled with a slow venom. “I saw and I acted to what I thought was right.” His eyes narrowed on his clanmate. “Maybe it wouldn’t have happened if you weren’t wasting your time with kittenish games!”

Squirrelpaw felt her claws tighten against the ground. It was unbelievable. Even when the group was against him, he still found a way to deflect the blame onto her. She moved her tongue to make some dry remark, but all that came out was a growl. “I hate you.”

There was nothing else to say.

Her clanmate’s brow creased, it was unclear whether it was anguish or malice. Overhead a cloud passed, covering the face of the sun and causing a great shadow to overcome the hills.

Tawnypelt stared at him with a vague disgust. It almost looked like the horror of remembering someone she wouldn’t wish to recognise.

Brambleclaw noticed it and his anger began to mix with a strained pain. The Shadowclan Warrior shook her head, almost piteously, turning to give Crowpaw a soft glance. “Crowpaw, can you walk okay?”

The Windclan apprentice shook a little, his teeth grinding as he felt all the eyes fall on him. On his wounds. He hissed as he rose to his feet, shaking off the support Feathertail offered. “Yeah, I’m fine.” He muttered, his gaze downcast. Feathertail and Squirrelpaw looked at each other worriedly.

“But you’re wounded.” Feathertail ushered.

“It’s just a couple scratches!” Crowpaw insisted, his voice raspy behind his teeth, as he began to clean his ruffled fur. Squirrelpaw wanted to interject; it wouldn’t be wise to just leave Crowpaw unchecked. But there was an intensity, a shame, in Crowpaw’s scowl that silenced her.

Tawnypelt looked as unconvinced as the rest of them, but she didn’t say anything more about it. “Alright, then we should try to make more ground. It’ll be dark soon after all.”

Stormfur muttered in agreement, displaying a weariness for how sour things had turned within minutes. He looked over at his sister, then to Crowpaw, offering a polite nod.

Squirrelpaw sensed Crowpaw stiffen.

“Come on.” Tawnypelt said, padding back in the direction of the setting sun. Out of the corner of her eye, she glared at her brother. “It’ll be over for us otherwise, right?”

She didn’t wait for an answer, Stormfur followed her. Brambleclaw stared into the space, his mouth thin, for a while before he offered another glance at the furious trio. Squirrelpaw knew he could feel her hatred for him. Good. A war seemed to go inside of him as while his eyes were still cold and unapologetic, his frown was rigid and weak. Something was breaking. It didn’t amount to anything though, as the Warrior finally just scoffed and turned on his tail, slowly making his way to the others.

Squirrelpaw sent another growl his way, loud enough to be heard, before she turned back to her friends. Feathertail was close by, the still ruffled, Crowpaw checking him over for wounds.

“Really, I’m fine.” Crowpaw stated, stepping away from the Riverclan molly. “Stop worrying about it, already.” He sounded dry with anger. Feathertail flinched, but she knew that he wasn’t trying to be hurtful, so he relented calmly.

“Okay.”

Squirrelpaw felt a stormy guilt rile in her gut. It has been her who had started the sparring after all. Her eye glinted at something white nearby, her breath caught, and she padded over to the flower, picking it up with her teeth.

“Here, let me.” She said through her fangs. Crowpaw’s eyes flickered at the image of the plant, but he kept his face stony. Still, he remained still, silently accepting.

Squirrelpaw tried to look calm as she wrapped the flower back into his now messy fur but ignoring the beating of her heart was nothing compared to Crowpaw’s expression. He forced his eyes away from hers, as if ashamed to meet her gaze. The fight had seemed to suck all his energy away.

Usually, Squirrelpaw would have found wounded pride something trivial and unimportant. But when she saw the stiff, humiliated expression on his face, her heart ached.

“Did you guys catch anything?” Crowpaw mumbled, talking to Feathertail despite his attempt to stare at his paws.

“Oh, um, yes. We did. When we’d finished, we met up with the others and then… went to look for you. two” Bless her heart, she was careful enough.

Crowpaw made a small sound of recognition, and Squirrelpaw finished getting the flower settled into his head again. She wiped away dust from the petals, trying her best to give her friend a smile.

“Don’t worry.” Squirrelpaw purred. Her heart stopped for a moment as she considered then decided on her next action. Smoothly, she licked Crowpaw’s cheek, cleaning away the dust of the fight. “They know it wasn’t your fault.”

She had hoped that that was what was bothering Crowpaw and that what she’d said would get him to return to the smiling face she loved so much to see.

But neither were true.

Instead Crowpaw met her eyes, still hot and upset with embarrassment and defeat. “Thanks.” He mumbled lethargically, breaking away from her to walk to where the others had gone. “Let’s go.”

He walked slowly, still waiting for them, but the mollies knew it was different. His tail was tucked despite his desperation to look unaffected.

But it was clear that he was exhausted.

Squirrelpaw swallowed as if she’d been chewing on nettles. How? How had everything go so badly that quickly? She just about managed to look appreciative when Feathertail gave her a comforting nudge and a small promise that it would get better. But Feathertail couldn’t hide the clear pain of seeing her friend look so wounded.

But it was the image of Crowpaw’s face that hung in Squirrelpaw’s mind. Even when he had broken down to her about his father, she’d never seen him look as ashamed as he had in those few seconds.

Squirrelpaw wanted him to get better. She wanted him to become friends with the others, and that did look more possible now they’d seen he wasn’t at fault. But, most of all, she wanted to see him smile again.

She just wanted him to be happy.

So she rushed over to where Crowpaw was, determined to not leave his side, not caring if it took the whole way to the Sun-drown place, because he was her friend. She would stick by him.

That was the only loyalty she could care about right now.

...

I hope you liked this chapter. I believe this is the chapter I disliked writing the most. But, some angst is important, so what are ya gonna do?

Anyway, leave a like if you enjoyed!

#squirrelflight #squirrelpaw #crowfeather #crowpaw #brambleclaw #Feathertail #tawnypelt #Stormfur #Warriors #Warrior Cats #warrior au #crowsquirrel #squirrelcrow #New Prophecy #fanfiction

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maidenof-thesea · 4 years

Text

Snakes & Butterflies | Part VI

Pairing: Jimin x Reader

Genre: Soulmate Au!, Fluff, Angst, Smut (Maybe, still debating)

Words: 2.9

Warning: minor swearing

Note: Part 6 is finally here!! I just finished last night, and I was debating in what direction I wanted to go with this story and I think I finally found a flow. Please let me know if you would like to be tagged so that you guys can be notified right away when I post. I would do a calendar but life is always hectic even when you try to stick to the schedule. Hope you enjoy and I hope you guys are having an amazing week so far. Lots of love <3

Reminder: * conversations in Korean *

The boys, minus Jungkook, who went out for a run, slept the day away while Rosa and I worked on cleaning the kitchen and living room. It was already well past noon, they must have been really jet lagged. In spite of that, Jin apparently had done a lot more than wash the dishes last night.

“Did you clean?” Rosa asked, her voice thick with confusion.

“No,” I said, shrugging. It wasn’t exactly a lie but I would have to talk to Jin later so that Rosa wouldn’t notice. “Um they should have some laundry if you want to get started on that?”

“No it won’t be enough for a full load,” She replied, rubbing her hair out of her face. “Should I help you set up for tonight?”

“No, that's okay,” I replied, handing her her jacket. “You can go home for today.”

“I feel like I didn’t do much..”

“That’s okay, Rosa,” I said smiling as I walked her to her car. “We have a whole two months to go.”

“Okay then,” she said as she got on to her car. “See you next time!”

I waved and as she pulled out, Jungkook was approaching the house in a slow jog. He waved at Rosa who waved back enthusiastically. She liked Jungkook a lot. And like my mother she referred to him as a bunny, much to his delight. I wait for him to come up to the porch and I hand him a water bottle from a pack we had stored near the front door since we were both too lazy to take it all the way into the house.

“Thanks Noona,” he said, opening the bottle and taking a chug of water. “So you know that cop that lives down the road?��

“Yea, Mr. Chang” I replied as I sat down on the patio chair. “Did you tell him about last night?”

“Yea,” he said as he sat next to me untying his shoes. “I figured since he’s also the head of the neighborhood watch, I should report it to him.”

“What did he say?” I asked already knowing the answer.

“The works,” Jungkook sighs. “‘We’ll keep an eye, but technically no laws were broken and we can’t prove they were stalking us blah blah,’”

“Don’t worry, Kookie,” I said pointing to the camera. “I won’t let any of those crazy beach girls touch you.”

“Noona,” Jungkook said with a slight blush but his tone was also stern. “This isn’t a joke, this is serious.”

“Kookie-”

“He’s right Y/N,” a voice said and as I turned around Taehyung was leaning against the front door. His hair was tied back into a man bun and his face looked freshly washed and dewy. I should ask for his skincare routine. “You could have a stalker.”

“Doubt it,” I said with a small smile. I spent my whole life hiding on the sidelines. I made sure to blend in so that no one noticed me. “I appreciate the concern but trust me no one would want to stalk me, I’m no one. Most likely it was not-”

“Why would you say that?” Taehyung interrupts with a hint of annoyance. “You’re precious to someone, you should value yourself more.”

“Hyung,” Jungkook interjected his tone pleading. “Let’s go eat some breakfast hmm?” He began to push Taehyung inside. He smiled sheepishly at me in apology and they both went in leaving me confused outside.

You’re precious to someone

No one has ever said that to me. It was another first. I didn’t know how it made me feel, but I couldn’t help the tears that began to burn in my eyes. I had been crying too much lately. Yuki then made her way outside almost as if she sensed my turmoil and she nudged her way into my lap.

“I guess you find me precious right baby?” I said smiling, wiping my tears. I began to pet her and she immediately purred and stretched her legs. “That’s already two times someone has called me out on my bull huh?”

“What bull?” Yoongi said joining me on the porch, making me jump in surprise. Yuki then hissed and ran off. “Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you or your cat.”

“That’s okay,” I said, accepting a cup of coffee that he handed me. “Thank you.”

He sat down and started to drink his coffee. I sat looking down at the coffee, letting it warm up my hands and I couldn’t help but feel a bit touched. From what I can remember Jungkook telling me about him, Yoongi seemed a little rough around the edges but he really was a softball, especially around Hoseok.

“Where’s Hoseok?” I asked, bringing the cup to my lips.

“In the shower,” He replied. “You can call him Hobi, he likes that better, Hoseok feels too serious to him.”

“Oh okay,” I replied and once again it was silent.

“What bull were you talking about?” He says with a hint of curiosity.

“Oh,” I said, rubbing the back of my head. “Nothing really, just something I’m working out.”

“Oh,” he replied, almost dejected, which made me feel a bit bad. “Well you can always talk to me you know?”

“Oh,” I said once more, feeling a bit touched again. “I didn’t expect you guys to be so caring towards me..”

“Well,” Yoongi said smiling and ruffling my hair. “Must be because you’re cute.”

“Stop,” I pouted and he only laughed and pinched my cheek. Heat spread onto my cheeks and I sat still. For some reason he reminded me of my father, but from what I could remember my father hardly showed any affection towards me. “Yoongi…can I ask you something?”

“Of course,” He said, re positioning himself so that he faced me fully. “What’s up?”

“Before Hos- I mean Hobi-and you met..” I said not meeting his eyes. “Was there ever a time that you may have thought you would never meet? Or did you guys meet each other when you were young?”

“We met when we were young,” Yoongi replied with a small smile. “I struggled a lot with coming to terms with the fact that my soulmate was a man as well, you see my parents weren’t the most supportive in the beginning..”

“Oh,” I said nodding in understanding. A part of me can sympathize with him in that aspect. “How-”

“Did I overcome that?” Yoongi finished for me. “Hobi. He was always patient and he was always there for me even when I wouldn’t accept it at first. It was hard for him too.”

So his Soulmate helped him value himself more.

“Why do you ask?” Yoongi questioned and when I glanced at him, I had his full attention. “Trouble in paradise?”

“Not really,” I replied with a shrug. “Just trying to figure out how to value and love myself more.”

“Self-love is important,” He said nodding. “Self value, however, is more behavioral than emotional. You can ask Joon since he’s more philosophical than me but I know that much..”

“Hyung,” A deep raspy voice said from the porch causing both me and Yoongi to jump in surprise. Jimin stood at the door with the sweater I was wearing last night on. He regarded us with unreadable eyes. “Hobi-hyung is looking for you.”

Yoongi then patted my clasped hands and smiled at me and got up to leave. Jimin stood there for a bit staring at the spot next to me. He took one step and I bolted right up. I grabbed Jungkook’s forgotten shoes and made my way inside, leaving Jimin to stand there alone. For some reason, I felt a sense of shame creep up on me, as if I was caught doing something I wasn’t supposed to be doing.

I placed Jungkook’s shoes in the shoe rack and made my way into the kitchen to wash my now empty cup. Once I was in the kitchen, Jin was already at the stove frying himself an egg and Jungkook and Taehyung were playing Xbox while Namjoon had AirPods on and was reading something on his phone. Yoongi and Hobi were nowhere to be seen, they must be upstairs.

“Oh,” Namjoon said, taking his AirPods off once he noticed me preparing to wash the dishes in the now full sink. “Hey so I had a question.”

“Shoot,” I said with a smile, rolling my sleeves up. From my peripheral I could see that Jimin had now entered the kitchen.

“So I remember that we choose the option of tourism when booking our stay here, so does that mean we can go to museums and whatnot?”

“Of course,” I said, opening the dishwasher to start placing clean dishes to dry. “What did you have in mind? I was gonna wait till breakfast was over to ask if you guys were up for any-.”

“Excuse me,” Jimin said as he reached for a cup from the cabinet. The cabinet that happened to be on top of the sink. The sink where I was currently washing dishes. My mind went haywire while my body went completely still. Jimin’s chest was only pressed against my back for only a couple of seconds but it felt like eternity. His breath ruffled the top of my hair, his cologne made my mind go fuzzy. And almost in an instant he was pulling away, already opening the fridge. However I didn’t recover as fast as the encounter lasted.

“I know Jin-hyung wants to take pictures at the Los Angeles County Museum of Art but I was wondering if the Crocker Art Museum is worth the drive…” Namjoon rambled on not really noticing my state.

“Yea,” I agreed with a slight shiver, turning off the faucet and drying off my hands. Once I turned around Jimin was appraising me with a slight smirk, and my breath got caught in my throat. “Nam-Namjoon, we could always go a different day, maybe plan an early drive-”

“Your car isn’t big enough though,” Namjoon said rubbing his head.

“Namjoon, remember we said we would rent a SUV?” Jin interjected and Namjoon’s eyes widened and he nodded. “I believe Hobi already called the place the airport recommended, we just have to go sign the papers and what not.”

“Oh that saves a lot of time,” I said, rubbing my arms and avoiding Jimin’s eyes, that have yet to leave me. “Do you need me to drive you there Namjoon?”

“Hyung, doesn’t drive yet,” Jimin said. “I could go-”

“Wait!” Taehyung said running into the kitchen. “If Jimin’s going I want to go!”

“Where are we going Noona?” Jungkook asked following Taehyung, who slammed a surprised Jimin into a hug.

“Um, I’m not going anywhere yet,” I said quickly walking past the sandwich that Jimin and Taehyung were starting to look like. Taehyung must have been a koala in the past life. “I’m gonna get ready, you can drive them there.”

Jungkook

“Okay!” I said, smirking at Jimin, who seemed a bit annoyed. “What’s the matter hyung?”

Instead of answering, Jimin took a quick glance at y/n who was now being hugged excitedly by Hobi-hyung. Both me and Taehyung rolled our eyes and started to drag him out and a little whine escaped from Jimin. Once Y/N was out of his sight, Jimin almost looked like he snapped out of a trance.

“You okay there hyung?” I asked once more while Taehyung ran ahead to Y/N’s Jeep, calling shotgun, almost as if he was giving Jimin space.

“Why do I still feel drawn to her?” Jimin whispered almost as if he could hardly believe it himself. “I could hardly sleep last night…”

“Well I’m sure the hyungs could help us understand more,” I said rubbing his arm. “Namjoon’s family has the archives that could maybe tell us more but we could only do that if you feel comfortable with us knowing.”

“That’s the only way I’m gonna get answers huh?” Jimin said entering the backseat of the car. When he glanced at Taehyung, he continued once he saw that he had headphones on. “Do you think with time, she’ll remember me more?”

“To be honest, hyung,” I said starting the Jeep. “I find it strange that she can’t remember as well, is that one of the affects of her reje-”

“Okay I got a playlist ready!” Taehyung cheered as he grabbed Y/N’s aux cord. “Let’s go!”

“Let’s go!” I said to Taehyung as I looked at Jimin in the rear view mirror, he seemed to be lost in thought.

Once we arrived at the car rental place, Jimin went in to pay for the rental, mostly because he spoke more English than Taehyung. Jin’s parents were basically the ones paying for everything, it helps that they own the most luxurious restaurant in Seoul. Too bad Jin wants to be a chef instead of managing the restaurant.

“That card has been there since you came to pick us up that day at the airport,” Taehyung muttered looking at the front window. He was right, there was a card. I hadn’t noticed it before. I reached as best as I could to grab it but before I could graze it with my fingers, Jimin grabbed it.

“Who is Lee Minho?” Jimin muttered with a furrow in his brow. I shrugged and so did Taehyung when Jimin looked at him. “That’s a Korean name…”

“Must be someone Noona knows,” Taehyung said, causing Jimin and I to raise our eyebrows. “What?”

“She’s only two months older than you,” Jimin said with an arched brow. “You don’t have to call her that.”

“Wait, you guys have the same birth month?!” Taehyung said in surprise. “And why can Jungkook call her Noona and not me?”

“Trust me,” Jimin sighed. “I don’t like that he does either.”

“She called Jin-hyung ‘Oppa’ yesterday,” Taehyung muttered, crossing his arms.

“She did what?!” Both me and Jimin yelled causing Taehyung to flinch. Me more in disgust while Jimin seemed angry.

“Him and his ‘Oppa’ fetish,” Jimin muttered in annoyance, as he walked towards the large black SUV that an employee drove out. “Then these jerks won’t let me be alone with her.”

“We can still hear you hyung,” I said and I laughed as he flipped me off.

I don’t remember him being this possessive before.

“He reminds me of Hobi,” Taehyung muttered. “They’re so scary, I mean Hobi-hyung has sort of chilled since he claimed Yoongi.”

“Claimed?” I said in confusion.

“Bro,” Taehyung said, rolling his eyes. “You really didn’t pay attention at all in homeschool huh?”

“But that doesn’t make sense,” I said, starting the car and pulling out once I saw Jimin hop into the SUV. “Jimin has already been rejected.”

“Maybe it’s different because Y/N is human,” Taehyung shrugged.

“YOU KNEW?!” I yelled and I almost let go of the brake, causing Jimin to honk at us from behind. “Hyung, how did-”

“Did you think we were born yesterday?” Taehyung said smacking me on the head, even though I was driving. Wait-

“‘WE’?!”

“Yes,” Taehyung said nonchalantly. “We’re just waiting for Jimin to open up to us.”

And for once Taehyung rendered me speechless. So all of them knew. Jimin is gonna lose his mind. The only one who doesn’t know is Y/N herself.

“You know what I don’t understand?” Taehyung said all of a sudden in a serious tone. “Humans don’t possess the ability to reject a Soulmate right? I mean have you ever heard of it before?”

“No I haven’t heard of them evolving that way.” I said, I am somewhat confused by it as well. “There’s been a lot of cases lately, where people’s Marks are being erased.”

“Really?” Taehyung said in surprise. “Huh I wonder…”

“Wouldn’t it be more likely that Neanderthals are rejecting their human Soulmates?” I asked. “I mean do you think Namjoon has heard of more cases from his father?”

“I mean, we can always figure that out later.” Taehyung said, shaking his head. “My concern is for Jimin and Y/N.”

“Right.” I agreed already seeing the cottage in sight.

“We know Jimin thinks Y/N rejected him..” Taehyung drawls.. “But that’s simply impossible, she doesn’t have the ability.”

“What are you saying hyung?”

“I’m saying that your Grandpa is a liar.” Taehyung said, clenching his fists. “I know Jimin, and I don’t think he had the heart to reject her but I can’t help but think-”

“No,” I said clenching the wheel. “Hyung loved her so much.”

“That’s the only thing that makes sense.” Taehyung said with a sigh. We both sat in the car as Jimin hopped off the SUV and started to pet Yuki, who seemed to only have warmed up to him. As he pulled up his sleeves, his broken Mark was like a crack on his skin. Like a reflection of his broken soul.

“We need to get her to remember.” I said with determination. “She has the answers.”

“I don’t mean to be pessimistic,” Taehyung whispered as he got out of the car. “That doesn’t change that the bond between them is broken.”

“I don’t care,” I said, marching my way up the walkway. “They don’t need the bond to know they belong together.”

“But-”

“Besides,” I said. “I don’t think the bond is entirely broken.”

“What do you mean?” Taehyung whispered as we made it to the front door. Jimin and Y/N were both sitting on the couch with Yuki laying across both their laps. “His Mark-”

“It’s like you said,” I whispered. “Jimin is acting possessive because he hasn’t claimed her. He’s not just being jealous and she may not remember him but her body does which is why-”

“What are you guys whispering about?” Jimin asked in English, his face slightly pink.

“Yea,” Y/N said, her face matching Jimin’s. “You guys have been awfully quiet, it’s quite suspicious…”

“It’s nothing Noona,” Taehyung said with his box smile and a wink, causing Y/N to splutter.

“YAH KIM TAEHYUNG!” Jimin yelled in Korean as he chased him around the house. “DON’T CALL HER THAT!”

“Is he gonna kill Taehyung?” Y/N said slightly worried.

“Maybe.” And just then we hear a picture frame fall from somewhere in the house.

“Shit.”

Yep shit is right Noona.

Prev / Next

Masterlist

#jimin #bts #jimin x reader #reader insert #my work #soulmate au #bts soulmate au #soulmate!au #bts fluff #bts angst #bts smut #kpop #kpop oneshots

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dragoler · 4 years

Photo

My hyperfocus manifests in intense lore analysis, so when making this reference I wanted to include all my reasoning and evidence too. Hope this might be of help to other lore nuts out there.

1. Though most vessels have symmetrical horns resembling mandibles - the horns of the Knight and Hollow Knight in particular resemble the mandibles of stag beetles - a few vessels found in the Abyss, and most notably Broken Vessel, have asymmetrical horns that look more akin to tree branches.

2.3.4. Void naturally takes the form of a liquid or vapor when at rest and tendrils when provoked, it must be poured into a mould and imprinted with a will or directive to take on a new form. The evidence for this is the mould found in the hidden void workshop imprinted with the order to serve, and the description of the Siblings in the Hunter's Journal:

Fragment of a lingering will.

In order for the shades to take their forms void needs to have completely filled the vessel's shells, this is supported by the Knight's broken shell shown during the Dream No More ending which is completely empty.

5. Having been created from unhatched bugs filled with void while still in the egg, there's no reason for the vessels to have lost their external mouthparts. There is also evidence for these parts having been retained, the items 'Isma's Tear' and 'Crystal Heart' are 'consumed' upon pickup, and Isma's Tear is described as having an effect once ingested, suggesting it was eaten:

Once ingested it provides protection from the searing, acidic pools found in certain parts of Hallownest

To further support this, Broken Vessel/Lost Kin, the Hollow Knight and Pure Vessel all roar from their heads at the start of their fights. Although the voices of Broken Vessel/Lost Kin and the Hollow Knight belong to the Radiance, Pure Vessel's roar is its own and therefore silent. Many bugs within Hallownest speak without visible mouths, so it's not a stretch to chalk the lack of visible mouthparts up to art style.

6. During the birthplace memory we can see the Knight scale the Abyss, ending in a scene where the young Hollow Knight is taken out by the Pale King before the door is sealed. This is hinted to be the Knight's first memory shortly after hatching, and shows that vessels are probably born with cloaks as a part of their bodies. The most likely body part for the cloaks to represent are repurposed wings, which in beetles are hardened into elytra. There is also some evidence that vessels have a degree of control over their cloaks. The Knight holds its cloak neatly against itself unless it uses the mothwing or monarch wing upgrades. The Broken Vessel is dead so has lost control over it's cloak, which may be why it appears too long for it. The Hollow Knight has a longer cloak on the side of its body where it seems to have lost an arm, which I think is because the infection caused it to lose control on that side. Pure Vessel's cloak is also long when armoured, but it retracts back when fighting so it doesn't get in the way. Much of this is pure speculation of course.

7. We can see by the Knight's broken shell shown in the Dream No More ending that the head shells of vessels are quite thick, while Broken Vessel serves as the only example we see of a dead vessel with its body shell left intact. Though it's likely that the cloaked vessels found dead in Greenpath, Nosk's Lair and the Abyss still have their bodies intact but simply obscured, a thinner body shell would explain why head shells seem to persist much better than any other part.

8. Whenever the Knight takes damage both black and white particles spray from its body, this happens regardless of whether the Knight has soul in its soul gauge or not. The implication here is that soul must be a part of a vessel’s makeup. Soul is found in flesh and likely also blood, as uninfected bugs bleed white when hit:

I have heard others talk about 'soul' but I do not understand what it actually is. I do know that freshly killed meat tastes best - is that because the 'soul' still clings to it?

- The Hunter, talking about Soul Twisters

The knight containing some sort of blood is supported by Joni's Blessing, which 'transfigures vital fluids into blue lifeblood' by turning all the Knight's normal masks into lifeblood masks. As the vessels are otherwise empty, the most likely place for this vital fluid to be would be just under the shell. In this way the vessels would be much like trees, with a dead/hollow 'core' and all important processes for life taking place in a layer just beneath the hard outer 'bark'.

9.10.These structures are shown pretty clearly on the Hollow Knight and Pure Vessel, but not shown on any other vessel.

Additional notes:

Vessels have no sensory organs for scent so cannot smell:

There's a potent odour about these caverns and far worse for me I suspect. My trunk is quite sensitive whereas you don't seem to possess a scent organ of any kind... Is it that you cannot smell at all?

- Cornifer in Fungal Wastes

Vessels also lack any scent of their own:

You carry a lot of smells on you, but you don't have one of your own. Funny little thing...

- Divine if you have no fragile charms

This wasn’t intended to be a long post but I suppose it became one. I’m willing to discuss any of this if parts need more elaborating on.

#hollow knight #hollow knight spoilers #spoilers #lore #vessels

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rebelsarestrongashell · 4 years

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Sunsets in Wakanda - 7

Summary: After his programming is removed, Natasha secretly visits Bucky in Wakanda. They rediscover each other as they are torn between love and promises.

Characters: Bucky x Natasha

A/N: Well hello there! Who is pumped for the Black Widow movie!? If you can't tell, a few moments from the trailer inspired me for this update (also an Arrested Development moment)! Let me know what you think! The next update will be next week, I promise! Some other big news: I'm writing a novel!! Here is my two-word pitch; female bodyguard. I plan on self-publishing so I set up a Patreon. Your support would mean the world to me as I spend a much large amount of my time writing my novel and updating my fanfics. Here is the link: patreon.com/tonyaespy

MASTERLIST

"I see you stole my look."

It was near dawn in Budapest, the sun not yet peeking over the horizon, and Yelena was right where Natasha knew she would find her. It was the same rooftop where they had last parted ways years ago, hopeful to never see each other again.

Yelena kept her back towards Natasha as she looked over the city. Nat slowly walked to her side, "Yeah, well, it was time to change it up."

"Mr. America know you're here?"

Natasha smirked, Yelena's snark had not gone anywhere, "Not exactly," She had left Steve a note that something person came up and she would be back in contact when necessary. Natasha knew Steve trusted her but she couldn't imagine him be thrilled with her disappearing in the middle of the night. She turned to face her former sister directly, "Why am I here, Yelena?"

"I've been hired to kill you."

Natasha stood there silently, nodding for a moment knowing Yelena would never go through with that order, just like she never could. Out of all the other spiders in the Red Room, the two of them were the only ones that formed a real sisterly bond. Sure, they were frenemies, but they would never allow real harm to come to each other.

Natasha turned back to face the horizon, the sunlight just starting to appear. For a moment, she was transported back to Wakanda and felt a twinge in her chest, "Who hired you."

"Anya."

This didn't phase Natasha in the slightest. She was more surprised that she hadn't hire someone to kill her sooner. Anya had always hated Natasha for being the best in the Red Room, for the attention she got from Madame B, and for the protection, she received from the Soldier, "Still yearning for mother's love?"

"So much so that she's following in her exact footsteps," Yelena turned her head towards Natasha, "Natalia, she's starting another Red Room."

Not many things truly catch Natasha off guard for this was one of them, "What? How?"

"Let's head downstairs for a drink. Vodka?" Yelena turned and headed towards the stairwell without waiting for a response.

"It's six in the morning," Natasha shouted at her.

Yelena continued to walk away but looked back over her shoulder, "I'll make us some toast."

Natasha followed her down to a beaten-up loft that was long past its glory days. The kitchen had broken tiles and peeling paint but looked freshly stocked with food. Yelena pulled down two glasses from the cabinet and a bottle of vodka, the good stuff. When it came to vodka, Yelena never went cheap. She scooted a glass towards Natasha, and they both took a slow sip. Yelena poured more into her glass and continued the rooftop conversation, "Anya brought me in as a trainer for what she is calling, the Dark Room. My plan was to derail it all by myself, but luckily she ordered me to kill you. Partly because she wants you out of the way, knowing you'd do everything in your power to stop her, and partly because she is testing my loyalty. So now, I have a partner to take down the Dark Room." She pointed to Natasha and took another sip of her vodka.

Without a word, Natasha walked over to the loaf of bread sitting on the counter and started cutting up thick slices, "You got a pan and butter anywhere in here?"

Yelena thinly smiled and pulled out a couple of pans and some butter and eggs from the fridge, "I make eggs, you make toast?"

The two of them worked side by side at the stove, making breakfast. No one side a word until the two assassins sat down across from each other at the tiny window table with their meal, "So, what is your plan?" Natasha asked.

"Take out Anya, and whoever she's working with."

"But you don't know who?"

"No. She, wisely, doesn't fully trust me. It has to be someone well funded, and I'm thinking Melina."

Natasha dropped the food that was nearly in her mouth, "I thought she was dead?"

Yelena shook her head and laughed, "We were all trained better than that, we never die," the expression on her face changed to a more serious one, "It wouldn't hurt having help though."

"Steve and the others are underground for a good reason, and I'm not risking their safety."

"I wasn't referring to them," There was a long pause as Yelena studied Natasha's face. She raised her eyebrow, knowingly, "Where is he?"

Natasha shook her head, "Out of the question."

She had just confirmed everything that Yelena needed to know, "You've seen him." She stated, "How much does he remember?"

Natasha's eyes met Yelena's "Everything."

The room was filled with a poignant silence. Yelena might have been the only other person in the world to understand the joy and pain that James' recovered memory had brought Natasha. She spoke softly, "He would want to stop her."

Natasha knew there was no denying that, but she remembers what James had said to her that he doesn't want to fight anymore. Suddenly, she felt a warm hand on top of hers.

"Look, Nat, I know you want to keep him protected, wherever he is. I get it, I really really do but remember the hell we were raised in? What they did to us? The torture and the abuse. Having us fight to the death. How the Soldier nearly gave his life just to give you a chance to get out of there? Well now a new group of girls are about to be torn from their families and put through the same horror show, and I know I couldn't live with myself if I didn't do everything in my power to stop it," There were now tears forming in the corner of Yelena's eyes, "And I have a feeling that you feel the same way."

She did feel the same way, and as much as Natasha wanted to deny it, she knew James would too. She pulled up her sleeve and pressed the Kimoyo bead that Shuri told her to. A hologram with a thirty-minute counted down hovered a couple of inches above her wrist, "I'll go talk to him, alone, but I'm not promising anything and not forcing him to do a thing."

Yelena's widen eyes were still on Natasha's wrist, impressed with the technology, "That's good enough for me."

"You'll hear from me in a few days," Natasha stood up and grabbed an unopened bottle of vodka from the cabinet, "I'm taking this with me."

Yelena looked amused, "My gift to you."

Turning to leave, Natasha looked around the grimy loft and turned back to her old friend, "Oh and Yelena, clean your safehouse. It's fucking filthy."

Yelena laughed, "Good to see you too, sis."

Natasha found her way back to the rooftop, taking in the hustle and bustle of the city that was now wide awake. She opened up the bottle of vodka and took a long sip.

Soon her Kimoyo bead counted down to zero, and she could hear the sound of a small jet starting to land but saw nothing. A moment later, a large gust of wind nearly blew her over. A black, two-person aircraft suddenly appear before her eyes.

"She never ceases to amaze me," Natasha whispered to herself.

The ramp lowered, and Shuri's familiar voice welcomed her as climbed aboard, "I told you I would see you soon."

Tag List: @tvjunkie22 @harduy @shanetoo @doralupin01

#sunsets in wakanda #buckynat #winterwidow #the winter solider #Bucky Barnes #bucky x natasha #natasha romanoff #Black Widow #yelena belova

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mxrcayong · 4 years

Text

let it unfold - chapter seven

chapter seven

day twenty-eight (still):

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you dart so fast.” Katie hoped to lighten the mood as she came in to the flat, seeing Mark coddled surrounded by blankets on the couch; watching random, stupid television.

Mark sighed, “I’m sorry. I just thought about what you said you wanted to do the fir-.”

“Hey, don’t be sorry.” Katie said sympathetically as she dropped the groceries she bought on the counter of the kitchen, “Never be sorry with me. Especially for that. You don’t control that.”

He groaned, “But I do! I should’ve been more careful! I didn’t want you to get hurt.” Katie looked into his eyes from across the room; Mark looked broken, and it didn’t help he was presumably fresh out the shower and looked so small on the couch, drenched in large blankets. “I shouldn’t have forgotten who I was.”

“Mark, no.” She quickly interjected, her voice becoming serious. He only ever hear her use this voice once before and that was when her boss called her about something to do with a kids behavior. “You are Mark Lee. You are a human like every one of us. Paparazzi here, yeah – they’re shittier than the ones in Korea, but you do not control them. None of this was your fault.” As she was saying this, she approached him so that she was now sitting in front of him. “You are Mark Lee. The Canadian-Korean boy who knows just how to make his friends burst out laughing,” make my heart race, she thought, “and who just so happens to be fucking talented at dancing and singing and rapping” and incredibly good looking, she thought to herself once more.

Mark didn’t know how to respond; he knew if he didn’t say anything and if the two remained in this position, he might do something he’ll regret and kiss her. “What did you buy?” He asked, his voice small and fragile.

“I bought dough, Soju, beer, cheese, tomato sauce, noodles, chicken broth, ramen, and so much more so we can get your mind off of this and we can cook your favorite foods and some pizza for a movie night.” She smiled, “And then we should probably go to the gym tomorrow but we can make even more food tomorrow.”

day twenty-nine

Mark wanted to get used to waking up with Katie in his arms. He practically begged her to stay the night prior but seeing her in the morning; with her hair in literal knots and her face showing all of her perfect imperfections – made his heart swell and reminded him this was a good decision.

He woke up earlier than he has been this trip; and spent most of that time thinking about the girl in his arms. He has felt how he’s been feeling around her before; but never this intense. He guesses its because romantic relationships has never been a priority with him – just performing was. But now, as it’s the forefront; all he wants to do is kiss her. He has the urge to be able to call her his. He sees her and sees something that he thinks is too good, too pure to be on this world – and she’s in his arms. He wants her to be there forever.

“Stop staring, you creep.” She mumbled, adjusting in her sleep. “Go back to sleep.” He chuckled at her sleep-heavy voice.

“I will,” He sighed, “in a bit.” He reached out and felt for his phone and immediately was greeted by an influx of messages from the NCT boys – the only people from SM he didn’t currently block.

Jaehyun: I think you’d want to know…dispatch and the news outlets here found the photos of you two

It was when he logged onto the NCT twitter he saw that #MarkLeeGirlfriend was trending. Fuck.

day thirty

Mark couldn’t feel luckier that the person he was with right now was Katie; who already knew he wanted to lay low and just stay in the AirBnB until it all blows over, even if it means spending their last days – originally planned to visit the valley and the bridge again – holed up inside.

“So, Netflix and food or food and Netflix?” Katie asked, holding up the delivery they just ordered.

“How about comida y Netflix?” Mark said, trying to come up with another combination.

“You dork.” She busted out in laughter, a smile painting her face. Mark felt accomplished seeing the smile on her face.

“But I’m your dork.” Mark didn’t fail to see her hesitation in her next response.

“I guess so.”

day thirty-one

Mark woke up surprisingly early for once; the first thing he planned on doing was getting ready and taking extra precautions with hiding his identity. Today was their last full day in his home and he feels like he needs more time here. Particularly, he feels like he needs more time with Katie to deal with his complicated feelings before having to be devoured by work.

He smiled at the sight of Katie at the kitchen; her hair was wet and cascading down her back in clusters of hair, wearing one oversized hoodie she’s stolen over their two years of friendship. He thinks it’s Johnny’s or Jaehyun’s hoodie. He wishes it was his.

An overpowering smell of bacon filled his nose. “Oh my God,” Mark exclaimed, “That smells amazing.”

Katie jumped at the sound of his voice, making him chuckle as he approached her. “You absolute dickhead! You scared me.” He chuckled, now standing beside her. “I’m making sure our last day here starts out right with…” As Katie put the spatula down, she reached down the cupboards. “Pizza bagels and bacon!”

“Oh my God,” Usually he’d respond with a simple phrase consisting of three words; those were the three words at the tip of his tongue, but saying it would only make his feelings known – especially now that they have a different meaning. “You’re amazing, you know that?” He substituted, making Katie chuckle and playfully flip her hair over her shoulder.

“I know.”

It felt like all the tension from the previous days have disappeared; the two were only consumed with the reminder that today was the last day they have with only each other for a while. “So, the plan of the day is…” Mark sat down at the marble counter that acted as a dining table, using it as a drum sets as he pulled out the plans the two had set prior. “We go on a bike ride around the city, meet up with friends at the market for a meal, walk down the beach, come home, and then binge movies with food that we make to use up all the ingredients you bought prior because my God girl, you bought a lot!” He exaggerated, making Katie roll her eyes as she put the bacon on the two plates.

“Now tell me those aren’t the work of a master-chef.”

“They aren’t.” Mark gave her a straight look, before bursting out laughing at her jokingly-shocked reaction. “No, they are, they are.”

Katie still faked offence, “Say that to your world-famous eggs.”

~~~~~~~

Mark knew he had to tell her tonight or not at all. It didn’t help that, knowing tonight is the night, she looked even more intimidatingly gorgeous. She just took a shower so any make up from the day was gone; she looked tired, but she looked freshly tired. Her hair was blow-dryed and looking soft and shiny in her messy bun. She was wearing an oversized shirt and a pair of spandex and Mark was enamored. He was speechless by her; she’s so effortlessly beautiful and he knew she had his heart.

He wasn’t confused about his feelings anymore; he wasn’t confused as they cuddled into their spare blankets on the floor of the sofa beds in the living room the two had set up to spend the last night together. He wasn’t confused as they shared a bowl of ramen and whatever food they could come up with the leftover ingredients. He wasn’t confused when they shared a bowl of ice cream.

“Okay, I’m saying we go for a horror movie next.” Katie proposed, peeling the blankets off of her and standing up. Mark readjusted, so he’s sitting with his legs crossed. His glasses made his eyes particularly doe-like. Katie found him magnetic to look at; from his hair being all fluffy, to his green hoodie making him look like a ‘small bean’ and just enough for her to embrace. All she wanted to do was kiss him.

Mark just nodded; speechless, as he has increasingly become more silent over the night. “Okay, you’re not the Mark I know –.” She retook her place, now sitting crisscrossed in front of him. She put their knees together and leaned forward, forcing Mark into eye contact. “Penny for your thoughts?”

He sighed, licking his lip before biting it. He held his finger out. “You know how you say people who break pinky promises are the biggest villains of them all?” Katie nodded suspiciously. “Well, can you pinky-promise when after I say this and it doesn’t work out as I hope, we’ll still be good?”

She linked her pinky in his, “What’s up bubs?”

“Katie, I think I’m falling for you.” He said quickly, but Katie was able to understand him. He was hesitant to use the L word.

“Haha, Mark, cut it.” Katie laughed instinctively. “You’re just being dumb.”

“No, Katie, I love you. I do; I love the way you smile and the way you care about me. I love how you stand on your tip toes when you order anything, or how you always hum when theres silence. I love how you make me feel. Most importantly, I love who you help me be. I love who I am with you.”

Katie felt speechless. “Mark, you swear you’re not saying this because you’re here? Because I’m here?” She’s hesitant, she’s worried. She dreamt of this, but she’s always scared of commitment. She didn’t want to lose him because he didn’t think this through. “Mark, you may say this now but I don’t want you to go back to Korea and realize you could have anyone better than me – maybe an idol – and then regret everything.”

Mark smiled softly, biting his lip. “There’s no one better than you for me, Katie.” He sighed, “I never noticed how being around you made me feel different than it was supposed to. I thought it was what its like to have a female best friend – but no, I felt butterflies. I felt the happiest around you. Katie, please say you feel the same.”

She didn’t respond with words; she just leaned in and pressed her lips against his. Within minutes, Mark had pushed her down on the sofa bed – hovering over her as they make out.

“Oh my god,” Katie said breathless, “This is so cliché” She said through heavy breaths between their kisses. They’re both breathless; lips practically bruised from the amount of times their lips met passionately. But their lips barely met the beginning of it; they have a whole month worth of making up to do.

day thirty-two

It felt like her lips lingered on his; the taste of her vanilla lip balm a reminder of what happened last night. That, and the way they slept more closely than they have before; their legs tangled together, both of them in their undergarments, and her arms thrown tightly around his chest. The smell of lavender from her shampoo wafted into his nose; and he immediately smiled waking up. Their clothes from their rather intense make out session were thrown onto the floor. Mark was glad Katie ended it there; he wanted to take things slow with her. He didn’t want to mess anything up, so once Katie had fallen asleep; he went to take a cold shower and immediately went back in her arms.

Now, as he rested with the girl of his dreams asleep in his arms, he was hit with a sudden realization; we’re going home. And he doesn’t know if they can stay like this.

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gingerbreton · 5 years

Note

Every even number of the Inquisitor Asks!

Thank you so much for asking! I’ve had to have a good think about this, as I’m only part way into her playthrough and i’ve kept some decisions i made prior to any extra knowledge around WEWH. It’s massive so i will hide some of it under the cut.

1, 4, 6 & 34 answered here

7, 8 & 12 answered here

Freya Trevelyan

(you might think she’s worried because Redcliffe, but no… she’s always this stressed)

2. How did they decorate and structure Skyhold?

Freya concentrated on helping and healing when deciding on the uses of various areas of Skyhold, creating a centre for healing and a herb garden with which to supply it, and a tower for the mages obviously. Décor-wise, she chops and changes, occasionally bringing in bit from the Free Marches to remind her of home, or sometimes enjoying startling visiting nobles with Avvar decorations adorning the hall.

10. Who did they support as Divine candidate?

Leliana. She approved of the changes that Leliana wanted to bring in, making the Chantry a more inclusive institution as well finally granting the freedom to the mages that she had hoped for for her little sister while she was alive.

14. Who is their favourite and most trusted advisor?

She does love Josie and enjoys spending time with her, but tends to lean towards Leliana’s methods when she feels they can get away with doing their business privately, especially with her own background in smuggling. Also, as someone who was inspired to escape her old life by tales coming across the Waking Sea of the fifth Blight, having Leliana there has her in awe. It’s all she can do to not constantly question her about everything that happened and about the Hero of Ferelden. After her involvement with stopping the Blight, Freya finds herself trusting Leliana even when her plans might seem controversial.

16. How do they react to the corruption of the Wardens? Why?

She is devastated! (get ready for a lore drop)

Freya was 19 when the Fifth Blight happened, freshly returned from boarding school with nothing to look forward to in the world but an arranged marriage to try and recoup some of the massive financial losses her aunt and uncle (her guardians after her parents died) had incurred with what should have been her estate once she came of age. With her little sister having been whisked off to the circle while she was in school, Freya had resigned herself to an unhappy future. But then stories started coming out of Ferelden of a group of people including three Wardens, led by a young woman who wasn’t much older than herself, who stopped the Blight and in doing so changed everything about what their futures might have held. It wasn’t the idea of being a hero, or ending up a queen really that appealed to Freya, (she’d never been taught to fight – such a thing wasn’t a young lady’s place after all) but the idea of freedom and travelling, and especially of being able to change your fate. Not being stuck with your lot in life. That small group of people, especially the Hero of Ferelden, were her inspiration for escaping her family and the future they’d have thrust upon her.

So, yeah. She tries to think of excuses at first for what the Wardens have done until there are no more excuses to be made. She can’t understand the desperation they must be feeling with the Calling, and especially after getting her memories back in the Fade, she finds it difficult to forgive.

18. Do they enjoy Wicked Grace, or don’t they?

She does, and her generally stoic/concerned expression makes her rather hard to read, so you’d think she should be pretty good at it… except she’s really not. Varric is trying to teach her. Unlike Cullen, she knows when to quit, so there haven’t been any incidents of losing her clothes.

20. Do they trust Morrigan?

She doesn’t see any reason to trust her any less than other advisor, especially given her involvement with stopping the Fifth Blight, although Leliana’s comments on her do cause some concern.

22. What is her biggest regret?

Leaving Stroud in the Fade, because she did it out of anger without considering that she would be responsible for his death. She had just had her memories restored of the conclave, and with it had realised that she had managed to find her sister there and they had been on their way to get her away from the Ostwick Circle. Watching her sister die at her side had left her broken and enraged, and since Stroud was the closest Warden, he took the brunt of her anger. The moment she closed that final rift at Adamant, it really hit her, what she had done. Ever since, she can’t help wondering if they could have just fought and all escaped, whether she had caused a needless loss of life.

24. How did they react when they found out about Blackwall/Thom Rainer?

She was heartbroken. She has a habit for blaming herself for most things, so she felt like such an idiot – suddenly his reactions to certain questions and discussions about his past with other companions made sense. She felt like she should have seen it and not been blinded by her initial Warden hero-worship. She was struggling with the shock, confusion and betrayal - completely ready to yell at him - but then she saw him in the cell and it broke her heart all over again. Seeing him resigned to his fate, accepting the death he felt he deserved, despite the good things he’d done since his crimes, made her reassess things. After all, she had escaped her old life and remade herself, so why should she blame someone else for doing the same, even if the circumstances were different.

26. What makes them trust someone?

She watches how they interact with other people, especially people she cares about, questions them on how they view the world. She may come across as reserved or a little stand off-ish but it’s not actually that hard to earn her trust - she really does want to trust people – and that trust can be earnt very quickly if she can see genuine caring in someone, because it’s a quality that was lacking a lot around her growing up.

28. Did they disband the Inquisition or maintain it?

Freya disbanded it. She’d done what she set out to do, the breach was closed, and finally all the fallout from Corypheus’s plans had been settled. She probably only kept it going as long as they did after the defeat because so many people she cared about were so invested in it, for example Josie had poured so much of herself into building it into the institution it was by Trespasser, that she feels genuinely guilty thinking about ending that, even though she is still stressed to high heaven with it all and desperately wants it to be over. In the end, she hated the idea that they were starting to cause more trouble than they were fixing (despite everything that happens with Solas and the Qunari during Trespasser) and that was the final straw. Plus, someone had promised her a normal life with a house and a dog – except he’ll be the one making the eggs! She’s also expecting during Trespasser, and having come so close to dying, she is more than ready to step away and let someone else deal with Thedas’s problems.

30. How did they judge prisoners?

Where possible, she tried to put them to use, or at least make them make amends for what they had done. The only exception being Erimond, who she would have killed at Adamant if she’d managed to get her hands on him then.

32. Who did they leave in the Fade, and why?

She left Stroud (and massively felt massively guilty after they escaped). Freya was still reeling from watching her sister die when her memories were restored, that she lashed out and sacrificed Stroud without a second thought, purely out of anger.

36. What was the most difficult choice that they had to make?

She really struggled with choosing a ruler for Orlais, feeling like she was never given all the facts or a straight answer to anything (exactly how I felt, having played without knowing anything about the Masked Empire! WTF). In the end she maintained the status quo, for a combination of reasons; the vision of the future at Redcliffe had scared her, and she feared that doing anything that removed Celene from power might result in that future. Plus, Gaspard put her on edge. She had heard enough stories about Orlesian chevaliers – ones that made her extremely thankful for growing up at the far end of the Free Marches - that her natural instincts towards him were that of distrust bordering on disgust. She completed missed the boat on any kind of reconciliation with Briala (she can be a bit oblivious when she is panicking).

Anyway, it’s one of her decisions that she thinks back on a lot while watching Orlais suspiciously from a distance, always wondering if she did the right thing, or whether it would have been better for Thedas as a whole to let the Orlesian empire collapse in on itself…

38. Emotionally, what was their reaction at Sahrina Quarry?

Visceral horror. Remembering the future at Redcliffe is one of the things that keeps her up at night, and actually seeing what had happened to Fiona being realised in front of her is absolutely horrifying. She can’t help but wonder if she’d acted quicker, come to the Emprise sooner… or just been better at this whole thing, whether she’d have been able to actually save people. She had hoped that they would have been able to stop that vision of the future from ever being realised, so a huge sense of failure was another takeaway.

40. Do they get Cullen to start taking lyrium again? Why or why not?

She offers him what help they have available to aid him in stopping, although she feels going cold turkey might not have been the most sensible way to stop. But ultimately, it’s his body and his life, so she lets him lead the decision to actually stop taking lyrium.

42. How do they view Tevinter?

She doesn’t follow Chantry doctrine on such matters – as in, she doesn’t hold her views because the Chantry says so. She learnt enough about the country’s history, or at least the way it is portrayed to the rest of Thedas, during her education to strongly disagree with pretty much all of their policies, especially (for want of a better word) human rights. She can’t wrap her head around the fact that Dorian, an otherwise intelligent and compassionate person, doesn’t seem to understand that are no good reasons for slavery and that are no circumstances in which it is better than having freedom (f*ck you bioware for thinking this is an acceptable ‘problematic’ characteristic to write into him because it is so ooc for someone who sees all the other issues with their society). The only thing she does wish, is that her sister had the personal freedoms that mages do in Tevinter, to be able to live her life as a person, not just an abomination in waiting.

44. How do they think their race plays into being Inquisitor?

Being human, and technically ‘noble’ to boot, makes pretty much all aspects of political dealings with the inquisition significantly easier. Even with her keeping a distance from the bureaucracy, it makes it easier for her advisors to portray an idealised version of her to a heavily biased world (so long as they stay clear from the topic of her atheism). Orlais is the largest demonstration of this, because having a human herald (and female, fitting within the Chantry’s matriarchal structure) fits comfortably into the Orlesian nobility’s view of the world, not leading their prejudiced view to be challenged. Freya is aware of the privilege this gives her, and will take what opportunities she sees to try and change the system, such as backing Leliana for Divine and making the world aware of Ameridan being a Dalish mage (she dropped the ball with Briala though, missing the opportunity to give her more power, and not knowing the recent history of what happened in the Masked Empire) although she probably doesn’t do everything she could do, not purposefully but likely through ignorance and missed opportunity.

46. Which companion/advisor makes them think twice about their choices, if any?

She does wonder if she should use more of Josie’s diplomatic options, seeing her occasionally uncomfortable with her answers or decisions does make Freya question whether she’s making her decisions for the best or because it’s the easiest way. But because of her own background, she leans towards Leliana’s methods where they can get away with it – it’s what she understands best and therefore what she feels most confident about.

48. What do they think about the Hero of Ferelden?

This might have been covered a little above…

Freya had developed an idealised view of the Wardens because of the events of the Fifth Blight, and a lot of that centred around stories of the Hero of Ferelden and how she had not only saved Ferelden but had changed her lot in life. To be honest, she’s a little bit of a fan girl for Ysabelle Theirin (nee Dryden) but the events of Adamant completely jaded her view of the Wardens, and although she kept them on with the Inquisition, the whole topic left her with a bitter after taste.

I’m thinking she runs into Izzy and her companions (Aedan, Anders and Nate) out towards the Hissing Wastes or the Deep Roads maybe, while they are looking for the cure, and this does a huge amount for restoring her faith in the Wardens. These were the faceless organisation who had been corrupted, this was a small group of individuals doing amazing things. Getting some personal combat tuition (Freya isn’t a natural at this fighting lark) from the Hero of Ferelden goes a long way to reinstating her former levels of admiration.

I feel a one shot or two coming on

50. Are they proud of what they accomplished?

In the end, she is. Even if it’s basically pride at just making it through the whole thing alive without having a full-on breakdown or inadvertently destroying the world. She is very ready for it to be a past accomplishment and for life to become a bit more normal!

#asks #freya trevelyan #inquisitor trevelyan #dragon age #dai #my oc #long post

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sohaveyoubeento-blog · 5 years

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V is for Vietnamese & Vintage

Us three ladies had always played it pretty safe by way of our lunch dates. Not to say the local deli isn't absolutely kick ass - it's very tasty and very enjoyable every time we go, but in much the same way as I struggle to go to the same country more than once on my holidays (excluding India, you can never have enough India) I couldn't help but think that life's a bit too short to sit in the same eatery every time we meet for lunch, given that the whole day is ours, and within reason, travel is no issue.

The three of us decided that we would try different cuisines every week, and with the girls (Laura and Dani) living in the quieter, leafier suburbs of Otley and Burley in Wharfedale, with me (Alex) living in what I frequently describe as the bronx, 5 minutes from central Leeds but gloriously populated by some of the best food joints in the country (confirmed) they usually end up meeting at mine and then we go into town to try somewhere a bit off the beaten track. Invariably, being three mums of young children, we eat at the speed of rabid dogs and end up having a bit of time to go explore some local weird shop or two, never anything mainstream like a department store. Oh no. We like vintage shops. You know the type, they smell like damp and the inside of your nan's wardrobe, and we prance around pretending to overlook the fact that we are just in a well laid out, slightly more selective charity shop without the undertone of giving. Usually there's some blue haired student with a headscarf and a faint stench of Bobby Orange pawing through piles of shirts and jumpers that are deemed as retro, when they've actually some of them originated in C&A - we remember that place the first time round,depressingly. The whole vintage scene is a bit ironic and try hard and a bit sad at times, but the one thing that it does offer is the piece you are often looking at, generally is one of one only in the store. The same goes for charity shops, generally. We like stuff that can't be bought in bulk.

Dani owns Deluxe Blooms, and is a luxury faux florist, and very good at it too. Laura is a nail technician and spray tanning afficionado, and the owner of Maibella Nails and Tanning. I own a salon called Lexa Hair, and the three of us work together frequently. The ridiculous thing is though, that work is going really well for us, and while in the past we may have dug around in charity shops for a bargain simply to be economical, now it has begun more of a habit. And you know what they say, old habits die hard. We don't have to eat streetfood on picnic tables anymore, and we can shop anywhere we want, but at least just for me, I don't like extravagance and I'm not impressed by labels or price tags. I like pieces that are unique,with a story behind them. My two accomplices sort of get dragged in to it I think, but they seem on board with most of it. I hope.

And street food is the best food on earth, everyone knows that.

We kicked things off with a visit to a fairly new (maybe a year old I think) Vietnamese place on North Lane in Headingley named VietBaker. Inside it's very wooden looking, quite industrial and urban, stained wood everywhere and dark red leather chairs. It smells like the rice cooker that's chugging away in the corner, mixed with plenty of garlic and of course, the fresh baguettes that are stacked up in a glass cabinet above the front desk.

We opted for a sharing platter for £9, and from the menu us Yorkshire ruffians requested spring rolls (the deep fried ones, not the fresh, healthy ones obviously), prawn toast, and 'rustic chips'.

This was skin on chips with salt and pepper (well cooked and so tasty) and the prawn toast was understandably made of baguette slices. It made for a much heavier slab of prawn toast and therefore an even more unhealthy treat but man alive, was it good. The spring rolls were pork, prawn and the usual crispy vegetables inside. Not floppy or soggy, totally crispy and served with a really light and watery sweet chilli dip that's more sweet than chilli. It was all very lovely.

I've personally eaten from here a number of times and I think the Vietnamese have got it absolutely nailed when they make sandwich. Or a Ban Mih. Laura and I opted for one each, chicken for her and pork for me. Dani went for something off the new part of the menu, the fusion section, which even featured a take on beef bourgignon, Vietnamese style. She tried the Shanghai pork belly, served with rice. Her whole bowl was piled high, and we're not talking a polite, peanuts size bowl. More like a ‘free ceramic crunchy nut cereal box’ bowl, with the with tokens on the back of the pack, that you’d send off as a kid. It was huge. The second bowl was just plain rice, which worked really well as the pork alone was…. alot. It was sticky and tangy and rich and all those other wanky words that just mean amazing. I'm trying so hard to limit the wankiness. I like writing and eating, combining the two is hard work though. Bear with me. The slow cooked pork made me feel a bit gutted I went for a sandwich until I got stuck in.

Vietnam was a former French colony, and much like their neighbour Cambodia, found their local best offerings being bastardised to accomodate the 'local palate'. The nice version is that the baguette was the French's gift to the Vietnamese, although I imagine it was more a case of 'put your lovely meal in my baguette for me or you're in deep shit.'

I've never been to Vietnam but having visited Cambodge a few summers back, I remember being astounded at the gorgeous, light, dairy free Asian cuisine that had been shoved in a crusty, warm baguette. Whoever's story was true, it's the absolute bollocks.

They cut this freshly baked baguette open and spread it with patè on one side and on the other mayonnaise (already weird but hang in there) - add a ton of crispy green leaves, cucumber, pickles, coriander and fresh chilies, and add some meat into what little room is left. Enough meat to give you meat sweats. It. Is. Superb.

The pork was very finely sliced, dark and sticky again (here she goes) and you can bang on a fried egg, too, if you're an absolute wrong un. No thanks.

Laura had the chicken which was a milder flavour but none the less tasty and flavoursome. I noticed Laura pulling bits off her sandwich and delicately chewing away at them, while I picked it up and ate it like I'd been sleeping in the dark arches for the last month. I even had to be asked to wipe my face. Sorry, not sorry. No messing with a Ban Mih. Especially not this one.

The bill was a very respectable £11 a head, and they threw in a free set of spring rolls for us, which was a nice unexpected surprise. The place had a steady flow of traffic, and although wasn't packed, I've been on an evening and I think it's safe to assume that's the bulk of their trade. It was fantastic food, very reasonable and highly recommended. Great staff and great location. We'll be back!

Afterwards we drove for about 3 days to find a parking spot anywhere near Hyde Park, so we could check out the newly (ish) renovated (OK sign replaced and possibly ownership changed) Vintage something or other in Hyde Park.

I forget the name, and if I'm brutally honest I can see why. It's alright, but it used to be alot better. The last time I went in there was alot of very old apothecary style wooden drawer units, some weird taxidermy, and unusual pictures in frames that would look incredible in the lounge. This time there was quite a bit of formica, and some hideously orange stained TV units that I guess in some context would be deemed as cool again.

The music collection seemed to be where the most effort had been made. The clothing was actually quite 'quirky' in the sense that you wouldn't actually wear alot of it, there was a whole department that seemed to have been handed over by the owner of the late knob head Jimmy Saville, shell suit after shell suit in every colour of the rainbow, in that non breathable fabric you'd get a two man tent in. Hideous. Still, there are some absolute finds in there. I would encourage people to bear in mind that these shops have a high stock turnaround and in their uniqueness, and ability to replace items based on sales, any vintage shop can be a complete bag of shite one week and a total gold mine the next. Its the luck of the drawer, I love that about them. That and the fact that we call them vintage shops. The three of us refer to them as shit shops, but potato patato.

I find it depressing that as I mentioned before, alot of the 'retro' stuff is just normal stuff we, in our 30s, encountered in our youth. There was a 'vintage phone' that was £15 and I'm pretty sure my gran has it now. It's literally a BT £10 phone still in argos, but clearly it had lived with a heavy smoker, adding to the aged facade.

Some of it was very authentic, some of it was broken crap, but the general feel of the place is a good one. There is more 70s stuff than anything else which is quite cool, but like I say, stock changes very frequently. Dani bought an oversized T shirt with a University football team logo emblazoned across it, and to be honest I would have too. There was a vast array of university related large varsity based sweaters, some unnecessarily cut in half width ways (why?!!!! Serves no purpose now, you fools) and that's the kind of thing I would have liked to look at. But as I was in charge of a one year old who was bombing around the floor, doubling as a human sweeping brush and coming back with more dust on him than the inside of the V6 after the attic stairs have been tackled, I gave it up as a bad job and put my bank card back away. No spending for mum today. Gutted.

The shop is pretty fabulous, on the whole. They do know how to charge when it comes to furniture, but the clothing is far more reasonable. It's not all one off pieces, a couple of items make an appearance a few times and that kind of ruins it for me, I start picturing some huge factory in China making hideously outdated clothing and leaving them in a damp garage for a few years, chucking a bit of tea down them and wearing the cuffs and collars down, before exporting the newly knackered pieces to us dumbasses in our 'quirky vintage shops'. Who knows. It's well laid out, and pretty cool, and although not my favourite, I imagine the next time I go it'll be a whole different experience. Swings and roundabouts with these places. It was an interesting look, and if Parker hadn't been doing his best ferret impression I would have definitely bought a jumper. Well worth a look.

Until next week!

Laura, Dani and Alex X

VietBaker, Headingley

https://www.thevietbaker.co.uk

Vintage Boutique, Hyde Park

https://vintageboutique.com

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pinknerdpanda · 7 years

Text

The Wedding Singer - Track 7

“Wake Me Up Before You Go-Go”

Characters: Dean, Sam, Ellen, Reader, Chuck (mentioned), Ketch (mentioned), Bobby (Mentioned)

Word Count: 1,770 (Including a few lyrics - Italicized)

Series Warnings: Angst, Fluff, Language, Mentions of Infidelity, Alcohol

A/N: This is the seventh chapter of an AU SPN Series co-written by myself and @hannahindie entitled The Wedding Singer and is inspired by the movie. We have been working on this for the last few months and are very excited to share it with you. The series tag list is open. If you would like to be added, please send one of us an ask. Hannah made our beautiful aesthetic and the series was Masterbeta’d by @wheresthekillswitch.

Track List

Track 7: “Wake Me Up Before You Go-Go”

“Dean! Move your ass!”

Dean woke with a start just as something soft pelted him in the face. He groaned and cracked one eye to see Sam standing at the foot of the sofa, a second pillow in hand, ready to launch.

“Dude, when I agreed to let you live in the basement, I kinda thought that meant you would live in the basement, not pass out on my couch in your underwear.” Sam frowned. “Come on you gotta get up. Ellen called.”

Dean grunted and rolled over, groping blindly for a blanket as the second pillow hit him in the back of the head.

“She said she loves you, but if you don’t get your sad, hungover butt to her house, she’ll come over and drag you out of bed herself.”

Dean frowned and rolled over, before sitting up. The morning sun peeking through the curtains made him grimace and he hung his head low, squinting into the carpet under his feet. His memory of the previous night's events were fuzzy at best, but he had a sinking suspicion that there was something he should be regretting.

A dull clink of ceramic on wood followed by the overwhelmingly enticing aroma of freshly brewed coffee distracted him from his thoughts. He looked up as Sam straightened, his own mug gripped firmly between his hands. He reached for the cup on the coffee table in front of him and sniffed, feeling the tiniest bit of relief as the scent his nostrils.

“Thanks,” Dean attempted, though he was sure it sounded more like a bullfrog croaking. Sam nodded anyway and they both took a tentative sip. Dean cleared his throat. “So, how bad was it?”

“Which part?” The corners of Sam’s lips struggled to stay neutral as he cocked an eyebrow at his older brother.

“What do you mean ‘which part’?” Dean scowled, irritated. “There’s more than one part I should be worried about?”

“Well, what exactly do you remember?” Sam lowered himself in the chair across from the couch and took another sip from the steaming mug.

Dean set his mug back down on the coffee table and swiped a hand down his face, his eyebrows drawn together as he gnawed his bottom lip thoughtfully.

“I remember drinking,” he paused. “Yeah. A lot of drinking. At the community center? RIght, there was a wedding and...oh God.” Dean looked up and his eyes bulged as the color drained from his face. “I can’t remember everything I said, but...but…holy shit. Why didn't they take my microphone away, Sammy?”

“Well from what I understand, I believe you ended it with ‘Good fuckin’ luck’ and threw the mic down yourself before climbing off the stage,” Sam lost his battle as his lips twitched in a sympathetic smirk.

“Oh God, Sam. No one’s going to hire me again. I gotta call Chuck and….wait,” Dean’s face contorted. “Didn’t you say there was something else?”

Sam’s phone rang before he could answer. He winced, glancing at the screen, and passed it to Dean without answering it. “She’s all yours.”

Dean didn’t look to see who was calling before he answered; he didn’t have to. “Morning Ellen. I know, I know. I’m awake...Yes ma’am. No ma’am...I know I’m not the only person who's had their heart broken, but….sorry, Ellen. Yep. I will be over in…” he lowered the phone from his ear and stared at it, blinking silently. He glanced up to find Jess had joined them and was sitting on the arm of the chair next to her husband, one arm draped lazily across his shoulders. “She, uh...she hung up. I’m...I’m just gonna…” Dean stood before finishing his sentence, already shuffling toward the bathroom.

-----

Twenty minutes later, Dean put his car in park before ducking inside the Gas n’ Sip for another cup of coffee and maybe a donut. His hand hovered over the various sized styrofoam coffee cups before settling on large and removing one from it’s spring-loaded home. The door chimed behind him as he filled his cup.

“I am just so shocked! I mean, he is just a wreck!” A female voice rose above the music piped through the speakers in the ceiling. She continued, “Part of me wanted to drag him from the stage last night and take him home with me. I bet I could make his sad, sexy ass forget all about that bitch, Lisa.”

Dean froze at the sound of her name and he realized that woman was talking about him. He tried desperately to make himself shorter in attempt not to bring attention to himself.

“I don’t even know why he thought he could sing at the wedding, anyway,” a second female voice added. “It was kind of doomed to fail from the beginning, if you ask me. I’ve never seen Jeff so angry! Sheila said she spent most of their wedding night trying to calm him down!”

Hot coffee spilled over the edge of the cup he still grasped, scalding him and he jerked his hand back, taking the cup and it’s contents with it.

“Son of a bitch!” He cried out as he jumped backwards to avoid the steaming shower. He narrowly missed the majority of the downpour, but still managed to end up with a dark, jagged stain, zigzagging across his chest. He pinched the hem of his shirt between his thumb and forefinger and pulled it away from his skin, trying to keep the soaked fabric from fulfilling its threat to blister him.

He glanced around half expecting to find two morbidly embarrassed women standing there guiltily. He was not, however, anticipating the looks of unimpressed disinterest, as though they’d known exactly how this was all going to pan out since they’d entered the building, and were still disappointed with the outcome.

“Son of a bitch,” Dean muttered, half under his breath as he headed straight for the door and back out into the waiting arms of his beloved Impala.

-----

“It’s about damn time you got here,” Ellen frowned at Dean through the screen door. As she opened it, Dean noticed her eyes remained gentle despite her tone. “Well, you gonna stand there with your mouth hanging open all day like a damn fool, or are you gonna come inside and get started. I’m docking your pay for this, ya know?”

“Yeah, I know. Sorry Ellen,” Dean shifted his guitar from one hand to the other, his eyes fixed on the floor.

“You look like shit. Have you eaten?” One side of her mouth curved upwards as Dean looked up at her.

“I’m alright, I stopped for a donut on the way over,” Dean’s shoulders slumped. “Not that I ate it,” he mumbled quietly.

“Come into the kitchen and I’ll make you some eggs; there’s some bacon leftover from breakfast too,” Ellen called over her shoulder. Dean set his guitar down before following her and taking a seat at the table. He rubbed at his still aching head gingerly and sighed. Ellen cracked three eggs and they sizzled deliciously as they slid into the pan. “Have fun last night?”

“Thanks. I feel like it too,” Dean chuckled mirthlessly. “I don’t know if ‘fun’ is the word I’d use. I made an ass out of myself.”

“Oh honey, don’t be so hard on yourself,” Ellen said as she switched off the burner and transferred the fluffy scrambled eggs to a clean plate. She added a handful of reheated bacon on the side and set the plate down in front of Dean. He smiled gratefully at her and she squeezed his shoulder before taking the seat next to him. “I mean, it’s not like it’s that hard for you to do.”

A piece of bacon still hung from between his lips as Dean stopped and stared at Ellen, who snickered. “I’m only giving you shit. Honestly though, I hear Jeff was pretty pissed. What exactly did you say?”

“I don’t even remember,” Dean dropped his fork back down to his plate and shook his head. “And Sam acted like something else happened, but he didn’t tell me what.”

“Well, if it makes you feel better, I didn’t hear about anything else. Come on, Bobby’s due back in an hour and no offense, but I need you gone before he gets here.”

-----

Y/n woke with a start as the sound of Aunt Ellen’s voice wound it’s way up the stairs and into her bedroom. Panicked, her eyes still puffy and her throat raw from crying, she glanced at the clock on her bedside table; 10:45. Shit shit shit. She was supposed to meet Ketch for brunch at 11:00. The thought of seeing him after what happened last night sent a pang of guilt and anxiety straight through her, making her stomach feel as though it was floating upwards into her throat.

Y/n shot up out of bed, throwing on clothes and hoping they matched. A quick pass of the brush through her hair and some deodorant and she was good to go. She grabbed her purse and keys, before bolting out the door and bounding down the stairs.

However, all forward progress came to a screeching halt as she came to the bottom of the stairs and her gaze fell on Dean. He was seated on the sofa next to Aunt Ellen, his right hand, which had been strumming a beautiful song as Ellen sang along, froze as their eyes met. Ellen, her eyes glued to a sheet of paper set on the coffee table between them, continued.

“I'm forever yours, faithfully.”

Ellen looked up and her gaze flicked between y/n and Dean, confusion etched onto her face. A choked sob spilled from y/n’s lips and she spun, yanked the door open and raced out. As the sound of the slamming door echoed through the silence, Dean sat motionless, images of the night before flooding through his brain.

The memory of y/n’s lips on his, soft and warm against his own - her initial hesitation that had melted quickly into a desperate hunger - flashed before his eyes and made his heart ache. Despite his intoxication he remembered how she’d felt in his arms; how perfect it had been. And then it was over and she’d been gone. Dean felt as if all the air had been stolen from his lungs as the scene replayed over and over again.

“So,” Ellen’s voice seemed to break the cycle and he stared up at her, his eyes wide. “You gonna tell me what the hell THAT was about?”

Track 8 “Till There Was You” Coming 12/05/017

Like what you see? Want more? My Masterlist is here and the lovely @hannahindie‘s can be found here. Thanks for reading! :)

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