#give me blue counters in the kitchen and golden walls in the dining room

[elisela]

because @extasiswings prompted me with “paint me a heaven of love with your bloodied mouth” a hundred years ago and not everything has to hurt chapel god damn it

bloodied mouth buck x eddie, h/c

There’s a crown on Eddie’s head.

Cheap golden tissue paper skewed to the left, dropping down to rest so low on his forehead it slips over his eyebrow, face slackened peacefully in sleep—he’s beautiful, he’s beautiful, in all the ways Buck has ever seen him.

The floor is littered with confetti leftover from the coming home party, a kaleidoscope of pink and blue and yellow that Buck ignores as he makes his way towards the kitchen, scooping up empty plastic cups and discarded paper plates as he goes. The trash bin is overflowing, a recycling pile building up on the counter behind it, sure to drive Eddie crazy when he finally wakes. Buck tosses everything he’s carrying into a new trash bag and takes everything out, hauls it all around to the side of the house and drops it in the bin. He starts in the kitchen first, the one room Eddie always wants clean, washing the dishes that can’t be thrown away, scraping dried icing off the table from where it had been smeared by small hands, stashing half-empty bags of chips in the pantry to finish off later.

The dining room is next, then the living room, and by the time Buck has all the confetti swept into a pile, Eddie is groaning from the hallway, leaning too heavily on the wall.

The broom is loud as it clatters to the floor and Eddie winces, waving Buck off when makes a move towards him. “I can get to the couch, Buck,” he says, though the slow inhale tells Buck otherwise. “You didn’t have to do all this. It’s not your job to take care of me.”

“Might pay more than my current gig,” he says, going for levity, and Eddie snorts.

“Doubtful, unless those scratch-offs tía gave me hit it big,” he says, and doesn’t protest when Buck reaches out for him. “And if that’s the case, I might get shot more often.”

He bites his tongue so hard he thinks it may bleed. “How about you promise not to get shot anymore, and I’ll spring for ten bucks worth of scratchers for you a month,” he says, gripping Eddie’s forearms as he lowers himself onto the couch with a relieved sigh. “I’m gonna go grab your pills.”

There’s still confetti in the hallway, tracking its way into Christopher’s room. Buck makes a mental note to deal with it later as he ducks into the bathroom and counts out the pills—medication to guard against infection, pain, everything Buck never wants him to experience again. Eddie swallows them dry despite Buck’s protests, and fiddles with the remote in his hands before looking up at Buck with more vulnerability than he ever has.

“I don’t want to ask—”

“So don’t,” Buck cuts off. He doesn’t have to ask, and he doesn’t know how Eddie doesn’t understand that yet, how Eddie doesn’t know that Buck would stop at nothing to make sure Eddie—and Christoper—were safe and taken care of and loved. A few days, a weekend here and there where Buck helps out—it’s barely scratching the surface of what he would give for them. “I’m here for whatever you need.”

“I need someone here,” Eddie says, too quietly. “They said—it could be months of PT before—I don’t know how I can—”

“So I’ll stay here,” Buck says, shrugged. Albert’s going a lot better, Buck could just ask him to stay in the loft for awhile. He at least trusts him not to completely trash the place, although he’ll probably have to burn his bedding and get a completely new couch when he goes back. “It’s not a big deal.”

“It is,” Eddie says, and the look he gives Buck changes to such open affection that Buck feels his breath hitch. “It is a big deal. Thank you.”

Buck shrugs. “You can repay me by staying out of the hospital for a few years,” he says, and Eddie laughs, the crown that’s still perched on his head slipping down even further.

#buddie #eddie diaz #evan buckley #hurt comfort #finale spec but only in my clown mind

[peterxwade24]

Safety Found in Red Sleeves

Chapter 5

Here is the long awaited Chapter 5. Also, due to my own desire, all of the temporary heroes will have suits fashioned after outfits from “Avatar: the Last Airbender”.

Con trai means “son” while Con gài means “daughter”, or at least that’s what the website I found them on says. (the website is www.vietnamesepod101.com if you’re wondering)

Also, I made a typo in chapter 2/3 with Marc’s pronouns but since then, I’ve changed it. I hope you all will continue to receive this fic with the same enthusiasm you have thus far.

Jason danced around his kitchen with Damian on his hip, his sisters sitting on some of the kitchen counters. Bobby Day’s “Rockin’ Robin” poured into the kitchen from his bluetooth speaker.

Tim wandered into the kitchen, one hand rubbing at his eye and the other on the wall, and ran into Steph’s legs. “‘ephanie?”

“Hey Tim.” Steph gently pushed Tim in the direction of the fridge and laughed as she watched him stumble to the fridge.

Jason ruffled Tim’s hair as he walked passed and smiled. “Good morning Timbers.”

“Good morning Uncle Tim.” Damian murmured from where his head was resting against his dad’s shoulder.

“Wha-?” Tim turned to look at the pair. “When did-?”

“Just went through yesterday.” Jason smiled. “Don’t worry too much.”

Tim nodded and got his glass of water before returning to the girls and settling between them. “Have you told Dick yet?”

Jason shook his head and opened the oven door to peek at the muffins he was baking. “No. But he, Wally and the kids are supposed to come over for lunch today.”

---

Jason carefully pried the sleeping form of his son off of his hip and passed him to Roy with a smile before looking at his brother. “So, Dickiebird, how are you holding up?”

Dick shrugged, playing with Mar’i’s hair to distract himself, before smiling. “I’m fine.” He glanced over at Wally for a moment. “Wally and I have been helping each other with this single parent thing.”

Wally smiled before turning to watch Jai and Iris chase each other around the dining room table. “Dick’s a great help with those two, they always have so much energy.”

Jason chuckled and shook his head. “Of course they have so much energy, look at who their father is.” Jason was about to say something when someone knocked on the door. “Give me just a moment.”

Wally and Dick sent him a pair of thumbs up as he stood up and walked towards the door.

Jason opened the door and simply raised an eyebrow. “What can I help you with Mr. Wayne?”

“There’s a French class coming to Gotham. They’re staying in one of the company hotels in the heart of the city. You and your brothers had best be on your best behaviour since Dick is the tour guide for their tours through the company buildings and you’re the acting bodyguard for their tours around the city.”

Jason rolled his eyes. “Hey Dickiebird! I didn’t know you signed up to give some tours to some hoity toity French kids.”

“I didn’t know I signed up to give some tours either.” Dick leaned on the wall next to the door. “When did either of us sign up to help you?”

Bruce sighed and looked at his two oldest sons. “Don’t do it for me. Do it for Alfred, he would like it if any of you came around.”

“Mmm, no can do B. My son is the child of a rogue and the grandchild of a rogue, my sister is the child of a rogue, my sisters are children of rogues, my brothers and I associate with rogues. Alfred is more than welcome to come around. You can give him my address and then forget it.”

Dick nodded and slung an arm around Jason’s shoulders. “When is the French class supposed to be here?”

“They’re flying in on Saturday but don’t start their tours until the following Monday to allow for them to get used to the time change.

---

Jason nervously tapped his foot on the floor, hoping and praying to whatever deity came to mind first a certain god of destruction that everything would turn out alright. He took a deep breath, shook out his hands and knocked on the door to the apartment.

The door opened and Selina appeared, dishevelled hair and shirt falling down her arm. Selina was sleepily rubbing at her eye with the other hand still held the door, just open enough she could see whomever was at her door but not open enough that anyone could see into her apartment.

“Aunt Selina?” Jason whispered while praying again to the deity. “Do you remember me? I’m-”

Selina let go of the door to wrap her arms around Jason, pulling the much taller boy against her chest. “Oh Jason. Why didn’t you come to me immediately after you breached city limits?” She pulled back just enough to hesitantly trace her fingers over the scars that marred his otherwise conventionally handsome face. “My poor bird. My poor, poor, little bird.”

“Aunt Selina. I’m fine now. Dick and Tim have sided with me against Bruce. I know how much you care for him and I understand if you’re taking his side, I just, I needed to see my Aunt Selina one last time.”

“Jason Peter Todd. I’m not the Joker. My one goal in life isn’t to be the Bat’s one and only. The day he brought Dick on the scene I decided then and there that you all weren’t his birds. You were mine. And cats are just as likely to attack bats as they are birds.” Selina’s fingers paused on top of a set of three very faint white-silver scars just under his jawline. “I am sorry that I ever caused you pain my little bird.”

---

Jason nervously straightened things around his apartment, Damian, Roy and Lian sat on the couch watching his mad dash around the apartment while Stephanie and Cass sat on a pair of counters with Tim standing between them. Dick, Wally, Mar’i, Jay and Iris were nervously looking out the window as Jason continued to clean.

Dick, Wally, Mar’i, Jay and Iris suddenly scrambled away from the window to sit down around Damian, Roy and Lian.

A few minutes after they sat down, a firm knock came at the door. Jason brushed the dust off of his shirt and approached the door. Jason opened the door and smiled. “Hi Aunt Selina. Hi Grandpa Alfred.”

Alfred smiled at Jason and glanced down at the covered dish in his hands. “I made my key lime pie.”

Selina simply chuckled. “Little bird. At this point, I’m your mom. Just call me Mom.”

-*-*-*

Thana looked at her friends, Chloé steadfast in her loyalty, Nino firm in his friendship, and Kim unshakable in his protection, and smiled. “I love you guys so much. You are my family.”

Chloé smiled and wrapped her arms around Thana. “We love you too.”

Nino and Kim joined their hug, the four friends uniting in their found family and solidifying their bonds. “You’re our family too Thana.”

---

Desgracia watched as Marc took a deep breath before looking at Kaalki. “Kaalki, full gallop.”

Marc was encased in a pale brown light. When the light disappeared, they stood in a loose-fitting gray bodysuit with brown knee-high boots with dark orange-red bands around the top of the boots and around the ankles, dark red wrist gauntlets covered in orange horseshoes with dark golden yellow bands around the top and bottom of the gauntlets. Over the gray bodysuit, they had a dark red tunic which crossed over their chest which was hemmed in a red-orange. The bottom half of their face was obscured by the turtleneck of their gray bodysuit while they had a dark orange-red domino mask with light gray eye lenses. The domino mask had a thin golden yellow outline, akin to glasses, while their hair had reddened. While their hair had previously been pitch black, it was now a dark chestnut that had lengthened to resemble Sesshomaru’s.

“What’s your name?” Desgracia’s eye lenses were blue-green and flicked over his suit in vague interest.

“Ma-”

Desgracia’s eye lenses darkened to green and hissed. “Hero name. We don’t use names in the field.” A gruff voice repeating the same words to a much younger version of her older brother sounded in her head.

“Oh, uh, um.” Marc frowned and tapped their chin in thought.

“Well, you’re using the Horse Miraculous so it should be something horse related. Poulain, because you’re new at this so you’re like a foal.”

“Poulain rouge.” Marc smiled and shook out their shoulders. “Poulain rouge because my hair is more red now.”

“Welcome to the team Poulain rouge.” Desgracia smiled and leaned over to ruffle their hair.

“Thanks.”

---

Thana sat under the stairs which lead to the second floor of the school, sketching an outfit for a client when another person tripped over her legs. She glanced up to see it was Marc before looking back down at her sketch.

“Sorry. I didn’t-” Marc started before Thana cut them off.

“Would you wear this?” Thana pushed her sketchbook towards them and tapped her fingers on her leg.

Marc looked over the sketch and nodded. “Yeah. Looks good. Who’s it for?”

“A client. Hey, you’re good at writing, right?” Thana looked at them and seemed to be imploring them to answer.

“Yeah?”

“Could you look over my website and figure out what’s wrong with it?” Thana smiled. “You can come over to Chlo’s to look over it. Well, Chlo’s or Kim’s.”

Marc nodded. “Sure.”

---

Thana and Marc followed after Kim as he walked into his home.

“Mẹ! Mèo con and our friend came over, I hope that’s okay.” Kim called as they entered the house. Kim and Thana toed off their shoes on instinct while Marc just copied their movements.

“Con trai. Con gài.” Kim’s Mẹ wrapped the two up in a hug before pressing kisses to their foreheads. “Ni hao. I’m Kim’s mom, and Marinette,” Kim’s Mẹ noticed how she flinched at the use of the name and corrected herself, “Thana has practically become my daughter.”

“My name is Marc Anciel.” Marc shook Kim’s Mẹ’s hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you ma’am.”

“None of that ma’am stuff. Just call me Mẹ, those two do.” Kim’s Mẹ was, arguably, a very attractive woman. She had short black hair and warm caramel brown eyes and she was just a few centimeters shorter than Kim. “Come on in.”

The three teens smiled at the woman before they went back to Kim’s room. Thana pulled up her website and moved out of the desk chair to allow Marc to look it over.

Marc looked over the website while Kim and Thana did their homework. “Are you sure you want the whole webpage to be gunmetal gray? You could mix it up with the background being light purple so the gray stands out.”

Thana nodded and let out a quiet “huh”. “Hey Marc? Do you care if I hug you?”

Marc’s eyes widened and they smiled shyly. “Sure.”

Thana wrapped her arms around Marc. “Thank you so much.”

---

Desgracia looked over the field, making sure each of her teammates weren’t being overwhelmed with this Akuma’s minions, when she saw the Akuma gunning for Poulain rouge.

Desgracia lept from the rooftop, landing on her toes in front of Poulain rouge and glared at the Akuma. She twirled her baton in her hand, keeping it low enough to not hit Poulain, before she looked back over her shoulder at Poulain. “Go get Monsieur Punaise. Tell him to hurry.”

Poulain nodded, turned around and ran to get their fearless leader who had one fear and it was Desgracia.

By the time Poulain returned with Monsieur Punaise, the Akuma was barely holding on. Monsieur Punaise called for his Lucky Charm, a plane ticket (specifically one for the flight they were taking soon), before deakumatizing the Akuma and throwing the Lucky Charm in the air with a call of “Miraculous Monsieur Punaise”.

Desgracia wrapped an arm around Poulain’s waist before jumping away, leaving her more even tempered teammates to assist the Akuma victim.

Desgracia landed on a rooftop and put Poulain down on the rooftop. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. He didn’t get close enough to take a swipe at me.” Poulain rouge chuckled and shook their head. “Don’t worry about me. Are you okay?”

“Poulain. I’m fine. Don’t worry about me. All damage dealt in the battle was rendered useless and disappeared when Monsieur Punaise cast his final charm.” Desgracia cupped Poulain’s face in her hands. “You have to be on guard at all times in battle. I won’t always be here. You need to trust your teammates to protect you in battle.”

Trâu landed on the rooftop and chuckled. “Desi, you can’t just kidnap our Foal.”

Desgracia turned her green eyes on him, however after assessing him as no threat her eye lenses turned back into their normal blue. “Trâu. I didn’t kidnap them. I just needed to ensure that they were fine.”

Taglist

@southamericangothamite @maribat-is-lifeblood @mystery-5-5 @our-preciousss @mochegato @chocolatecatstheron @throneoffirebreathingbitchqueen @2confused-2doanything @wannajointhecrabcult @dreamykitty25 @tomanyfandomsonmymind @moonlightstar64 @justafanwarrior @mialuvscats @pheony1882 @pepelachanel @moongoddesskiana @abrx2002 @ladybug-182 @greatcatblaze @thatonecroc @vixen-uchiha @superbwhispersconnoisseur @lilkymilky @susiej1118 @thatonecroc

#maribat #ml crossover #mlb crossover #ml x dc #mlb x dc #Safety Found in Red Sleeves #SFIRS #horse!marc #nonbinary!marc #we'll see the other's suits next chapter... i promise? or at least we should. I just have to figure out what they look like

[yoosungisbabie]

strawberry surprise - day one

welcome to Jumin Week 2020! this is the first time I’m writing or sharing anything in this fandom, so wish me luck! I hope you enjoy! 

@juminweek2019​

jumin x mc

rating: G

prompt: {birthday} / {cats} / {berries}

warnings: none♡

word count: 1,818

ao3 link

[my Ko-fi♡]

MC plans a tasty birthday surprise for her fiancé.

°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。

She stifled a yawn as the elevator dinged, signaling that she’d finally reached the top floor. Twisting her wrist to meet her face, she double-checked the time, pushing her anxieties down as she stepped into the hallway that led to his penthouse.

The chief of security was waiting for her near the door, giving her a warm smile as she approached. She offered the other guards standing nearby friendly smiles as well, silently reciting their names in her head.

“Good morning,” she spoke lightly, feeling the puffiness of sleep still linger around her eyes as she maintained her smile.

“Good morning, miss,” the chief replied, unclasping his hands from behind his back. He placed a hand on the doorknob, lending her another encouraging smile. “I haven’t heard any movement in there yet, so you should be in the clear,” he told her in a hushed tone, earning an amused smile from the security guard to her right.

“Thank you,” she whispered back. She gave him a nod and an enthusiastic thumbs up when he looked to her expectantly. He opened the door to the penthouse quietly, letting her slip inside and closing the door just as noiselessly behind her.  

She took a deep breath and looked around the small entryway. There were none of the normal signs that Jumin was awake yet, most of the penthouse still doused in darkness, but she still found herself checking her watch again.

5:45 am.

Another yawn threatened her, but she dealt with it quietly, slipping off her shoes and leaving them by the door. She hadn’t arrived as early as she’d planned to, but she hoped there would still be plenty of time to prepare.

Jumin woke up at 6 am sharp everyday, but she’d been adamant the previous night that he turn his alarm off and take the opportunity to sleep in. She hoped he would take her advice, but she had firsthand knowledge that even without an alarm, her fiancé was known to wake up on schedule anyway.

With that in mind, she tiptoed to the kitchen, glad that it was partially closed off from the rest of the penthouse. Her fingers tingled with excitement as she took her jacket off, surprised at how fast his birthday had arrived. She’d begun planning two weeks prior, but it seemed like time had passed in an instant.  

It was just strawberry pancakes, but the simple dish had become something special to the engaged couple. She wanted it to be perfect.

She started gathering what she needed, closing cupboards as quietly as possible and wincing when she placed the pan on the stove a little too loudly. She worked on slicing the strawberries, tying her hair up and slipping on the apron that hung on the wall.

Working as quickly as possible, she had just started throwing together the batter for the pancakes when 6 am rolled around. She listened for the sound of his alarm, just in case, and breathed out in relief when she only heard silence. But the change of time still set her on edge. This made her a little sloppier, sprinkles of flour settling on the counter and bits of egg shell needing to be picked from the bowl. She’d been practicing the dish at home since she’d first had the idea to surprise him, but she hadn’t anticipated cracking under pressure.

The large window nearby showed the city below her and the sky that was shifting into dawn. It was a sight she never grew tired of, and when she ended up staring for a little too long, a bit of batter split over the edge of the bowl as she stirred. She sighed, quickly wiping it up and turning on the stove.

The first few pancakes that came out of the pan were slightly too brown, but she was determined to keep trying until she had prepared a breakfast that she could be proud of. Or until she ran out of time.

As she flipped over her fourth attempt, she let out a silent cheer at the golden-brown that appeared before her. But her joy was quickly replaced with fear as a high-pitched meow rang through the kitchen.  

She gasped, jumping out of her skin and turning to look at Elizabeth the 3rd as she stood at the entrance to the kitchen. The cat’s innocent blue eyes were glued to her in a voiceless question, her white, fluffy tail pausing in the air like a question mark.

“It’s just me,” she whispered, holding her heart as she calmed her breathing. Elizabeth let out another happy meow, walking over to rub against the back of her legs.

She shook her head at how frightened she’d gotten, resuming her cooking until a thought dawned on her.

If Elizabeth was awake, then that meant--

“Darling?” she heard before her tired brain could complete the thought. She turned her head towards the entrance once more, seeing Jumin standing where Elizabeth had just been.

“Hi,” she breathed out, unable to help the smile that turned her mouth upwards despite the fact that she’d been caught.

As much as she loved watching the sunrise from the penthouse, her fiancé was a much prettier sight in the mornings. His eyes flew around the room as she took in his appearance, her heart fluttering happily.

She couldn’t decide what about him in the morning was her favorite. She was pretty sure it was the way his hair was sticking up in all the usual places despite the hand she could tell he’d run through it. But the robe that showed up occasionally -- the soft, lavender-colored silk robe that exposed just enough of his bare chest to make her blush -- was a close second.

Or maybe it was the way he looked a little lost, his dark silver eyes landing back on her as he let his lips part to finally ask the question that hung in the air. But she beat him to it, completing her growing smile into a happy grin.

“Happy birthday!” she exclaimed, momentarily abandoning her attempt at breakfast to walk over to him. She watched his eyes light up, a gentle smile gracing his lips as she wrapped her arms around his middle. A low chuckle resonated through his chest as his arms settled around her shoulders, and she sighed into his embrace happily.

“Are you making strawberry pancakes?” he asked. She pulled away to look at him, seeing a hint of amusement in his eyes. She smiled, nodding.

“Do you feel like eating?” she wondered, her hands coming to rest against his sides as she looked up at him. He glanced down at her briefly, but then his gaze moved behind her once more.

“Of course,” he replied, letting his hands fall from her shoulders. “But I think that one is burning.” Her face fell before she rushed back over to the stove to see tendrils of smoke rising from underneath the pancake that she’d thought would be perfect. She flipped it over, sighing when she was met with the sight of a charred pancake.

Jumin let out another soft chuckle as he moved over to the stove, and she shot him a defeated look before dumping the failed attempt in the trash.

“How about you let me finish these?” he asked, extending a hand towards her in hopes of receiving the spatula from her. She narrowed her eyes at him, placing the pan back on the stove.

“But it’s your birthday,” she protested, a small pout coming to rest on her lips. “Let me do this for you,” she offered, not expecting such a warm look from him in response.

“The fact that you’re here is more than enough,” he told her, his voice dropping barely above a whisper. The simple statement made butterflies flutter in her stomach, a light blush warming her cheeks.

“I’m happy to help,” he continued, still waiting for her to give him the spatula. She pursed her lips, reluctantly handing it to him. She was about to step away when his other hand caught her waist as she leaned down to press a soft kiss to her forehead. This only made her blush more, her eyes staring up at him for an explanation.

“I love you,” he spoke with a smile before turning back to the stove. Her heart was racing, leaving her standing dazed in the middle of the kitchen. After a long moment, she came back down to earth, tasking herself with cleaning up the mess she’d made and setting out plates and cutlery at the dining table. She wasn’t able to wipe the grin off her face.

She watched her fiancé effortlessly whip up two stacks of pancakes, and Elizabeth followed her around as she finished cleaning up.

When everything was ready, they sat down at the dining table and began to eat. Jumin always preferred to listen to her talk in the mornings while he finished waking up. He was consistently interested in what she’d done the previous day, what she’d had for dinner if they hadn’t eaten together, and how she’d slept. She would never get over the look in his eyes and the undivided attention he gave her while she talked.

After they’d finished, she moved to take their plates back to the kitchen, but he stopped her with a gentle hand on her wrist.

“Leave that for now, and come here,” Jumin spoke, releasing her wrist to offer his hand. She took it without hesitation, following him curiously as he led her towards the window. The sun had finally risen over the horizon, bathing the city in a warm glow that reminded her of how her heart felt with her hand in his.

When she stopped beside him, he intertwined his fingers with hers, and she looked up at him. He turned to meet her gaze, smiling warmly. She couldn’t deny that he looked happy, and if she’d helped cause that, then her surprise hadn’t been a total failure. Even if she’d failed at making pancakes.

She watched as he leaned down and cupped her cheek gently, pressing his lips to hers in a kiss that tasted of syrup and strawberries. He let the kiss linger but kept it chaste, pulling away to look into her eyes.

“What was that for?” she asked breathily, seeing a hint of pink settling onto his cheeks.

“To thank you for being in my life and making this the best birthday I’ve ever had,” he answered softly, his thumb stroking her cheek. She blinked at him, a warm feeling of complete adoration for the man in front of her spreading through her whole body.

“It’s only just started,” she reminded him, watching his eyebrows raise and his smile widen.

“It’s already the best,” he said, making her heart swell as she pulled him in for another sweet kiss.

~~~~~

aaaah thank you all for reading! i hope you all enjoyed!

stay tuned for more Jumin Week! I'm so excited to share what I've written with you all! it was hard not to indulge myself, so I really enjoyed writing all of them!

thank you so much!

#juminweek2020 #jujuw2020 #jumin week 2020 #jujuw20d1 #jumin han #han jumin #jumin x reader #jumin x mc #mysme jumin #mm jumin #mystic messenger #my writing #tags are hard ahhhh #i hope yall enjoy tho #happy birthday #happy birthday jumin!

[terreisa]

Love Down the Line: Chapter 12

The last thing Indie musician Emma Swan needs is a gigantic wrench thrown in the workings of her biggest tour to date weeks before its launch.  When her backing guitarist that caused the problem says she has the perfect solution Emma is skeptical but left with little choice but to accept.  Unfortunately she isn’t really prepared for said solution to be former Rock Star and leading man of Emma’s teenage fantasies, Killian Jones.  With no other options and a month of performing across the country ahead of her Emma just hopes she doesn’t come to regret letting Killian onto her stage and into her life.

Ch 1, Ch 2, Ch 3, Ch 4, Ch 5, Ch 6, Ch 7, Ch 8, Ch 9, Ch 10, Ch 11, AO3

~*CS*~

 Boston, June 8th

Emma shifted from foot to foot in front of the door marked 520.  It had taken her over a week to get her shit together and make the trip that she’d originally intended to make the morning after her show in Vancouver.  Of course that had been before her phone had blown up with calls and texts about Killian’s video, which had hit a million views before the sun had even risen.  It had also been before the small gaggle of paparazzi had grown to a crowd and forced her to use the same back door to leave the hotel that she’d used to enter it the night before.  Those were the excuses she told herself in the light of day.  She was much more honest with herself at three in the morning when she couldn’t sleep.

In the dead of night it was easy to admit that she was a fucking coward.  Killian had laid his heart bare for the entire world to see, and judge, and all she’d done was call her manager.  Granted she’d had to take a dressing down and listen to a frustrated rant meant for someone else but that was nothing compared to the self flagellation she’d been doing since she’d landed in Portland and driven north instead of heading south.  To add an extra layer to her guilt she watched Killian’s video two or three times a day and that didn’t even count how many times she only pulled up the song portion.  That, in the end, had been what decided it for her.

She’d tried finding the song on every streaming service and on every platform that sold downloads but it wasn’t anywhere.  For the entire week she’d checked every morning when she woke up and every night before she went to bed but the song only seemed accessible in the video he posted.  The temptation to illegally download it had crossed her mind once or twice but she’d been able to hold herself in check, mostly because she knew the audio quality would suck but even more so because it felt almost cowardly.  That that would be the thing to somehow tip off Killian that she would rather torture herself with a shitty copy of the song he wrote for her than to actually talk to him.

It took far too long for her to piece together that because it couldn’t be downloaded or streamed meant that he wasn’t making any kind of profit from it.  When she finally did she felt like her heart had been plucked out of her chest and was on the precipice of being ground into dust.  She’d been out the door and on her way to Boston within five minutes of her realization and long before she could talk herself out of it.

The four hour drive had given her plenty of time to think over some things.  How she felt about him, really, truly felt about him, for one.  While Killian had pretty much said that he loved her she wasn’t so sure that was what she was feeling in return.  She definitely liked him, a lot, so much so that the weeks since she’d practically ghosted him she’d grown used to the constant ache under her breastbone.  The restless nights and obsessing over his video seemed a bit much but she could easily admit to herself that she missed him.  It didn’t necessarily mean that she loved him, they’d really only been together for a matter of days after all.

Then there was the slight issue of what the hell she was going to say to him.  An apology was a given.  On the flight back to Portland from Vancouver she’d finally admitted to herself that she might have possibly, slightly overreacted when she’d heard about Killian’s record contract.  She wasn’t completely in the wrong, he had lied and hidden things from her, but she definitely could have at least listened to what he’d had to say.  That was another thing, she was going to keep her damn mouth shut after she apologized and let him say whatever it was that he needed to say to her.

Her planning and imagined conversations got her into Boston but once she’d parked her car she’d begun to worry.  There was every possibility that he’d refuse to speak to her, that he’d take one look at her darkening his doorstep and slam the door in her face.  He might not even open the door at all, just see her distorted image through the peephole and decide not to bother.  By the time she’d reached his apartment she’d worked herself up so much with the ‘what ifs’ that she couldn’t bring herself to even knock on the damn door.

She’d been psyching herself up for at least ten minutes, raising her fist in a burst of courage only to drop it as another wave of unease washed over her.  As she lifted her hand for the fifth or fiftieth time one of his neighbors slammed their door shut.  Startled, her knuckles tapped the door, softly but enough to make a definite sound.  Resigned and relieved she sucked in a deep breath and soundly knocked twice, stepping back quickly so if he did look through the peephole he’d clearly see that it was her on the other side.

For a few agonizing moments she stood, waiting.  The neighbor who had slammed their door passed her by, giving her a curious look but kept walking.  She briefly wondered if he knew he lived on the same floor as potential rock legend.  The thought fled her mind when she heard the slide of a lock disengaging and the door in front of her slowly opened.

She could tell that Killian hadn’t been sleeping as soon as he stepped into view, there were dark purple shadows under his eyes that hadn’t shown up in his video.  His hair was even more of a disheveled mess than it had been in the video too, and longer.  He was wearing a pair of thin blue flannel lounge pants and a threadbare grey t-shirt with a rip at the collar and a faded Led Zeppelin logo.  She’d never seen a more heartbreakingly beautiful sight.

“How-”

“Regina mostly,” she rushed to explain.  It was way easier to tell him how she found him instead of why she had wanted to, “Robin helped with the doorman though.”

“They’re old friends,” he murmured absently.  His gaze darted all over her, as if he couldn’t quite believe she was there, “Tuck put in a good word for me with the board when I decided to move here after rehab.  Why are you here Emma?”

She winced, “Can we, um, go inside.  I really don’t want to do this out here.”

Something flared bright in Killian’s eyes as his mouth tightened.  She almost expected him to cross his arms and refuse.  Saying everything she needed to say out in the hallway would have been embarrassing and awkward as hell but she was prepared to do it.  In fact, she realized she would do almost anything to just get him to give her a chance.  He must have seen that in her own eyes as he gave her a terse nod, stepping back into the apartment and opening the door wider for her to pass through.

As she walked by him she resisted the urge to reach out and brush her fingers against the back of his hand or worse, stop completely to wrap her arms around him and never let him go.  Every ounce of courage she’d lacked before was suddenly filling her from root to tip.  She was still nervous as hell but she wasn’t about to destroy everything for once and for all by chickening out at the last second.  If things didn’t go the way she wanted it wouldn’t be because she decided that giving up was easier than fighting them.

Her steps slowed to a stop as she fully stepped into the spacious apartment.  One of the living room walls was floor to ceiling shelves filled with books, cds, and vinyls while the second had an impressive entertainment system with a giant tv that had a soccer game frozen on its screen.  There was a cozy looking couch and matching chair facing it that broke up the space between the living room and breakfast bar and the kitchen.  What really caught her eye was the view from the sliding glass doors behind a round dining table that opened to a small balcony.  It wasn’t full dark but the facade of the State House was already lit, its golden dome gleaming dimly.

“Nice view,” she muttered quietly.

“You were more excited by the one in Malibu,” Killian said flatly, startling her as he stepped up beside her.  He gave her a wry grin, “Bit jumpy there, Swan?  Don’t worry I won’t bite.”

She turned fully towards him and held his gaze, “I’m more nervous than worried.”

A muscle in his jaw ticked but he didn’t look away.  After a moment he gave a small sigh and moved toward the kitchen.

“I’d offer you a stiff drink but chamomile will have to do.”

He brushed past her, moving into the kitchen.  When she didn’t move he huffed and pointed to one of the high backed stools tucked under the breakfast bar.  She gave him a small smile and when he turned his back to her to open a cupboard she shook her head at her nervousness.  Silently admonishing herself she sat down and watched him move around the space, a defensive set to his shoulders as he gathered the things for their tea and set an electric kettle to boil.  Once there was nothing left for him to fiddle with he turned back to her, leaning casually against the far counter and crossing his arms over his chest.

“So it took you ten days to ask Regina where to find me?” He asked in that same flat voice.

Despite his attempt to sound indifferent she could hear the hurt in his words.  As much as she knew her answer would only serve to harm him more she couldn’t lie to him.  There was enough of that between them already.

“I called her as soon as I finished watching your video-” she dropped her gaze to where her hands were folded on the bartop, not quite strong enough to watch him react to her answer, “ten days ago.”

Her confession was met with silence.  She could hear the water in the kettle start to boil and the gentle hum of the refrigerator but that was it.  After a few seconds of quiet torture she steeled herself and looked up, needing to know exactly how pissed he was at her.  What she saw didn’t disappoint.

He hadn’t moved an inch, still leaning against the counter but there was nothing casual about it.  Every one of his muscles were tense, his fingers digging into his bicep with enough force to turn them white while his eyes were two chips of ice, cold enough to burn as he stared her down.  She was almost relieved at seeing the signs of his anger, anything was better than the indifference he’d been displaying before.  The kettle clicked off but he showed no sign of noticing aside from the slight tightening of his jaw.

As he glared at her she tried not to let her own frustration and anger flare up.  There were still so many things that they needed to talk about and any one of them could have him throwing her out of the apartment.  She wasn’t about to be meek or amenable but she sure as hell wasn’t about to keep poking the beast that she’d awakened.

“Honey?” He growled.

She blinked, “Wha- what?”

“In your tea-” he uncrossed his arms and gestured to the mugs beside him, “Honey?”

“Um, yeah, that’s fine.”

He gave her a terse nod and began fixing their tea.  With his back turned to her she took a deep, calming breath.  She was no longer nervous, his reaction had been pretty much what she’d expected and that part was over with.  Instead a hollow ache of longing had settled in her chest.  There was nothing she wanted more than to talk like they used to, open and without pretense but also with a bit of teasing and flirting thrown in for good measure.

Killian topped his mug off with a splash of milk before turning and handing hers over.  It was a white mug with a line drawing of a guitar and the words ‘I’m a kettle head’ written over it.  She couldn’t help her snort of laughter at the sight of it.

“Something funny, Swan?” He asked with a raised brow, his cup of tea halfway to his lips.

She spun the mug so the graphic faced him, “Gag gift or did you buy this yourself?”

He rolled his eyes and took a sip of his tea but she could see his ears turning red.  She let her own eyebrow tick up as he swallowed, shaking his head.

“Gift from a fan, actually.  I made mention in an interview years ago that I enjoyed a good cup of tea in the afternoon.  I’m still receiving packages of tea and its related wares on a steady basis-” he tipped his head towards her mug, “That was one of the more clever ones.”

Spinning it back so she could grasp it by the handle she hesitated.  The opening was clear for her to start the conversation that needed to be had.  She knew she should take advantage of it but he was no longer glaring at her and she wanted to bask in the small reprieve she’d found herself in.  To prolong the moment she took a sip of her tea, humming at the soothing warmth and delicate flavor that danced over her tongue.  The corner of Killian’s mouth ticked up and her heart skipped a beat at the sight.

“Not as good as my hot chocolate but it’ll do,” she teased.

Emma knew she’d pushed his patience to its breaking point a half second too late.  Killian’s smile flared for a second before he pressed his lips together in a thin line and turned his gaze away from her.  Her own small grin slipped and she berated herself for expecting too much too soon.  She waited, quiet and still, until he looked back at her.

“I’m sorry.”

His eyes widened and he let out a little huff of surprise but she barreled on, needing to get it all out.

“I’m sorry for so many things, waiting ten days to show up, not calling the second I finished watching your video, blocking your number so you couldn’t call me, fighting with you when I answered Ruby’s phone-”

“Swan-”

“I get that you’re mad at me.  Good, you should be.  I was terrible to you and I know it’s no excuse but I was hurt and you lied to me, but I still should have given you a chance to explain-” she gave a little hiccuping laugh, “God, if you’d done that to me and showed up at my house I would have slammed the door in your face and been done with it.  And you?  You invited me in for tea?  Why?”

Killian shook his head with a huff.  She could see his smile threatening to break loose again and the sight mystified her.  He saw her bewilderment and pushed off the counter behind him with his hip, setting his mug in front of hers and leaned into her space, gently taking her hand in his.

“Don’t you know, Emma?” He asked, painfully earnest. “You said you watched the video, so you must know.”

“You’re mad at me,” she pointed out, even as she gripped his hand.

He tilted his head, considering her, “I am but that doesn’t change how I feel.”

“I’m not sure how I feel,” she confessed in a whisper, “I know I hated not talking to you late at night or being near you almost constantly but…”

She trailed off, unsure how to proceed without stoking either of their tempers again.  Killian’s thumb ran over the back of her hand, encouraging her, and she reveled in the feeling.  He gave her an encouraging nod and she took a fortifying breath.

“You lied to me-” he winced and tried to pull his hand from hers but she held on fast, “You lied and if whatever this is between us is going to work I need to know why.  I promise to actually listen this time.”

He gave her a pained smile, “And if you don’t like what you hear?”

“I won’t know until you tell me,” she countered softly.

“Alright,” he said with a nod, one that seemed more for himself than for her. “Alright, but can you promise me one more thing?”

“Anything,” she agreed quickly.

“No interruptions.  I think it’ll do us both good to have it all out in one go.”

She used her free hand to mime that she was locking her lips and throwing away the key.  He gave her a small snort of a laugh, no longer looking pained or apprehensive, which had been her goal.  As she gently squeezed his hand in encouragement she really hoped she’d be able to keep her promise.

Killian blew out a harsh breath and began, “Are you familiar with Cora Hart?”

Her eyebrows shot up and she bit the inside of her cheek to keep her mouth shut.  Cora Hart was the agent of all agents.  Her firm was the one every struggling artist wished would represent them because every one of their clients was a superstar or on their way to being one.  To be one of her personal clients was like getting a golden ticket to everlasting fame, fortune, and the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame.  However, it came with a price and Emma wasn’t entirely convinced that it wasn’t someone’s soul.  Plus Cora Hart was known by everyone in the industry as ‘that cold hearted bitch’.  It was an unpleasant surprise to hear her name coming from Killian’s lips.

“Yes, I can see that you are,” he sighed. “She’s my agent.”

She grimaced.  As much as she’d been prepared to hear it it still made her stomach drop.  There were only so many ways his story was going to go and she wasn’t sure she was entirely ready to hear it, but she would, because she promised.

“I’ve been with her since the beginning.  She found us playing at a small pub in Liverpool and snapped us up.  If it weren’t for her we’d probably still be playing pub gigs but only on weekends-” he gave her a wan smile that didn’t last long, “I owe a lot to that woman, not everything but enough to know not to question her decisions on where to take my career.  Even if I wanted to seek different representation she’s got me in an iron clad contract for at least three solo albums.”

“What?!”

She couldn’t help her outburst.  While it was normal for a record label to offer contracts like that, she’d signed one herself for that matter, she was pretty sure it wasn’t standard for an agent to do the same.  Then again she didn’t actually have an agent of her own.  Regina was an employee of her label and didn’t need a separate contract with her and seemed more than happy to take care of everything herself.  Emma thought that things had been working out alright, aside from the fiasco that had put her right where she found herself at that very moment.

“I have been bound by this contract for quite a while, Swan,” he said wryly. “Since even before the accident.”

“But that’s gotta be extortion or something, right?” She asked indignantly. “I mean, it’s been almost fifteen years!”

He gave her a warm look, “There are plenty of people who have been with their agents for much longer and I thought I said no interruptions, love.”

“Sorry,” she said sheepishly.

“Realm of Jewels made Cora a very rich woman and an equally hot commodity in the industry.  I had already planned to do a few solo albums and signed with her because she was someone I already knew.  Back then I thought three albums was nothing, I had written material for at least six,” he said with a shrug. “After the accident and pulling myself out of the bottle she was gracious enough to allow me to do whatever I needed to do to get my life back on track.  Even if it meant nothing more than doing recording sessions for other artists’ work.  Of course, her patience could only be pushed so far and I’m sure I’d far exceeded the limit.  She started not so gently reminding me of my contractual obligations about a year ago.

“At the time I figured I could piecemeal something together from my old lyrics and maybe a cover or two to get an album together.  It wouldn’t have been great, fair to middling if anything, but it would have been enough to satisfy Cora for the time being.  I wasn’t excited by the prospect and in the meantime I was still being hired for session recordings.  One of which was for your album.”

Emma smiled and ducked her head.  He’d made it sound like it was some great honor instead of a few hours work on a couple of songs.  She didn’t even get to choose the musicians that got to record, that was all left up to the label, though she did get final say on how it sounded.  That didn’t mean to say she hadn’t gone back to listen to those backing tracks almost as much as the song he’d written for her.

“It was the day we were recording for Snowdrops and Buttercups that I first met Regina.  It just so happened to be the same day that Cora had come to the studio to once again remind me of my obligations.  What I wasn’t aware of was the fact that Cora is Regina’s mother-” Emma’s head shot up at that and he nodded, “Whatever you do try to avoid being in the same room as them, especially when business is involved.  I left the studio that day with my three album contract inexorably attached to the record label that Regina represented.  There was also the small inconvenience of a series of deadlines being imposed.  The first of which was having enough songs written to begin recording an album within six months.  When Ruby called about needing a replacement I had about two months left to put something recordable together.”

Emma bit her lip.  It was getting harder and harder to keep her comments and questions to herself.  Especially with the bomb he’d dropped about Regina and Cora.  She decided to take a sip of her tea instead.  Before her mug even made it to her lips Killian was grinning widely at her.

“Go ahead, love,” he said with a bow of his head.

She slammed her mug down, splashing tea over her hand.  With a hiss she shook off the droplets impatiently, ignoring Killian’s outstretched hand, not wanting to be deterred.

“Cora the heartless is Regina’s mother?!  And if you had only two months to write an entire album why the hell were you allowed to come on tour with me?  Is that why you had that lunch with Robin and Regina?  For the album?  Why didn’t you tell me all of this already?”

Killian’s expression immediately dropped into one of regret as she sat back, stunned at her directness.  She absentmindedly rubbed at the reddened spot on the back of her hand that the tea had spilled on.  The lingering pain was an excellent distraction from the tension that had sprung up between them.  With a click of his tongue Killian moved to the sink, wetting the corner of a dish rag.  When he turned back to her he paused and she gave him a nod, holding out her hand to him hoping he would see it as the olive branch she was offering.

“At first it didn’t seem as though it would be an issue,” he said quietly as he gently pressed the rag to her burn, “You only needed a temporary guitarist and as I mentioned earlier I had dozens of notebooks already filled with lyrics that would suffice.  Regina was the one who scheduled the meeting with Robin as soon as I was officially attached to the tour.  I believe her intention at the time was for me to hand over the completed songs and get the ball rolling as it were.  She, of course, had no idea that you and I would become what we did.”

“Did you, um, have any idea?” She asked hesitantly, dropping her gaze to where his hand was still holding the damp cloth to the back of hers.

He used his other hand to tip up her chin and looked her in the eye, “I’d hoped but I could never be quite sure how you felt.  Until Chicago.”

She wanted to confess that her hopes had started long before Chicago.  That he had somehow snuck past her defenses into her heart with his charm and unwavering support but she couldn’t.  He still hadn’t answered the question that mattered most to her.  With a sigh she pulled away from his gentle touch.

“I still don’t understand why you didn’t tell me any of this,” she said a bit sharper than she intended, her frustration and confusion bleeding into her tone. “We talked for hours on that damn bus.  I listened to you talk about how much better felt tip pens are than ball points three separate times!  Was it really so hard to say ‘by the way, Swan, I’ve signed with your manager and have to get an album written while we’re on the road’?”

He let out a heavy breath and ran a hand through his hair, “I didn’t want to upset you.”

“And look where that got you,” she said with a humorless chuckle waving her hand between them. “If you’d said something off the bat I would have been pissed at you for, like maybe a week, and I also wouldn’t have gotten my heart broken.”

Emma froze.  She hadn’t meant to make that confession, especially when she wasn’t even one hundred percent sure what it was she felt for him.  Killian seemed caught off guard too, as he stood staring at her with wide eyes and not appearing to breathe.  He blinked and closed the small distance between them but made no move to touch her.

“I’m glad to hear it,” he murmured.

“You’re glad to hear I got my heart broken?” Her voice cracked and she pulled as far back from him as she could.

“If it can be broken, it means it still works,” he said softly but she could hear the hope in his words all the same. “I know I hurt you immeasurably, love, and I’ve earned no right to a second chance but if you can see it in you to do so I’ll gladly spend the rest of my days earning your back your trust and, perhaps in time, your heart.”

“Killian…”

“Finish your tea, Swan,” he said with a tight smile though his eyes were sparkling with the same hope she’d heard, “Don’t want it to get cold.”

She stared down at the amber liquid and watched the curling tendrils of steam as though they’d give her some kind of sign of what to do.  They didn’t, of course, not that she really believed it would be that easy.  There were still so many questions she wanted to ask but only one really mattered.  Guarding herself against a final blow she looked up at him with determination.

“Were you ever going to tell me about any of it?  Or was it always your plan for me to find out from someone else?”

Killian jolted back, as though she’d slapped him.  He shook his head with a sigh before running a hand over his face.  When he caught her eye again the hope had been replaced with pain and a flash of the anger she’d thought was behind them.

“I’d intended to tell you everything the night of the interview over the dinner we were supposed to share at my home.  I suppose it was fortuitous that I’d listened to it or I would have sat with our meal laid out on the table, waiting for hours for your arrival.  As it was I had to endure one of Regina’s assistants traipsing through the house, gathering your items and ignoring my pleas to explain what the hell was going on.  Then, of course, there was to be no explanations forthcoming for nearly three days and absolute devastation once I’d received them.  But after all that my feelings for you never changed, not once.”

Emma sucked in a breath at that.  Even as he was justifiably dressing her down for what she’d done he was still playing it safe.  He’d never stated outright what he felt for her but she knew without a doubt what he wasn’t saying.  Funny thing was, his caution made her realize exactly what she felt for him with startling clarity.  She gave a little laugh that bordered on manic but she was helpless against the sudden euphoria she was feeling.

Killian glared at her, “I won’t have you laughing-”

“I love you.”

The words seemed to hang between them in the quiet kitchen like a line cast out to the unknown.  She could only hope that Killian would grasp onto them and tether her heart to his.  As the silence stretched out she found she only wished she had told him sooner instead of dragging out both their heartaches.  Shaking her head at her own stubborn foolishness she gave him a tremulous smile.

“I love you and I’m sorry.  I was trying so hard to protect myself from getting hurt again that I just hurt us both so much more instead.  I’m so tired of feeling like I tore a piece of my own heart out.  You said your feelings haven’t changed.  I want this.  I want us.  Do you?”

Instead of answering her with words Killian moved at a speed that surprised her.  Almost before she had finished the question he was standing in front of her, his arms bracketing her with his hands on the back of the chair and the counter.  His expression was deadly serious but his eyes were lit with joy as he leaned into her space.

“Swan, I want nothing more.”

Her smile was cut off by his lips pressing to hers.  She gasped as one of his hands delved into her hair while the other banded around her waist, his thumb stroking at the skin above the waistband of her jeans.  It was as if he was pouring every emotion into the kiss.  His passion, his elation, his fervor, and most of all his love.  With a moan she pulled him impossibly closer, hooking her ankles around the back of his legs to draw him in.

To her surprise he broke away, leaning his forehead against hers, breathing heavily, “There’s one last thing that needs to be said.”

“Now?” She panted, arching up slightly to nip at his lower lip. “Can’t it wait?”

“Not really,” he groaned.  He kissed the corner of her mouth, then her cheek, sliding his mouth to her ear where he quietly sang to her, “But I wouldn't trade a day for the chance to say, My love, I'm in love with you.”

Tears welled in her eyes as he pulled back, looking at her as though she was the best thing that had ever happened to him.  He gently brushed away the few tears that had fallen with a finger, following closely behind with soft kisses that travelled across her cheeks, leaving her wanting more.  By the time he moved to her mouth the heat between them had returned but she leaned back before he could press more than one delicate kiss to her lips.

“Emma,” he growled, his hand flexing on the back of her neck, his eyes hot.

“You know, you never gave me a tour of the place-” she gave him a teasing smile and gave an exaggerated look around, “I bet there’s all sorts of interesting rooms.”

He caught on quickly, his smile unfurling into something wicked, “Indeed there are, my love.  Shall we begin with the bedroom?”

He didn’t give her the chance to answer as he swiftly pulled her up from her chair and tugged her quickly down the hallway.

Much, much later Emma was seated back at the breakfast bar in nothing but her underwear and Killian’s Led Zeppelin shirt.  Her feet were perched in Killian’s lap, which was covered by dark blue boxer briefs that he’d only pulled on when the pizza they’d ordered had arrived.  She tried to smother a giddy grin behind her crust but he caught sight of it and raised a brow at her.

“Something you’d like to share, Swan?”

“I’m just-” she gave a little shrug, “happy.  I guess I’m still trying to process it.”

“I know what you mean, love,” he agreed, his hand dropping to her ankle to give it a squeeze. “If someone had told me yesterday that we would be here tonight, like this, I wouldn’t have believed them.  Now, if they’d predicted us reconciling by the end of the week I wouldn’t have questioned it.”

“No?” She asked, humming in pleasure at the confidence in his voice.

“You’re not the only one who can wheedle an address out of Regina,” he said with a wink.  Then he grew serious, “If I hadn’t heard from you by the end of the week I was planning on driving up to Maine to plead my case.”

“I’m surprised she gave it to you,” she mumbled around a bite of her crust. “She was all worried about you breaching your contract because of deadlines two weeks ago.  A side trip to Maine would definitely eat into your studio time or something.”

“Oh-” Killian scratched behind his ear and then said offhandedly, “I’ve, er, been in breach of my contract since I posted that video, love.”

Her last bite fell from her fingers as she gaped at him.  A flush was rising along the back of his neck and he gave her a sheepish smile.

“What?”

“Well, according to some of the very fine print in it I was forbidden from releasing any music by means other than through the label-” he shrugged and waved a hand as though dismissing the seriousness of the situation, “My lawyer assures me that at most I’ll only have to pay a minimal fine.”

“Pay a…” she brought her palms to her temples, “Killian that’s still going to be thousands of dollars.”

“I would have posted a hundred unsanctioned songs and paid every cent I have to my name just to get you to talk to me again,” he said matter of factly.  He leaned over and plucked the piece of crust from her lap, tossing it into the open pizza box before fixing her gaze with his, “And it would have been worth it.  You are worth everything.”

She dropped her hands with a huff, “Stop being romantic when I’m worrying about you.”

“Never,” he said with a wide grin that made his eyes crinkle. “And you don’t need to worry about me, Swan, I’m a survivor.”

“I love you,” she said with a shrug, “I’ll always worry about you.”

His grin mellowed into something that made her feel warm and cherished.  He leaned over and grasped her stool, dragging it towards him until the already small distance between them was narrowed so only a puff of air could pass through.  She gave a wayward thought to the state of his floors at the abuse they suffered but it vanished as his hand came up to cup her jaw, his thumb drawing a delicate arc across her cheekbone.

“I love you too,” he murmured just above a whisper, his eyes intent on hers, “I always will.”

Her happy sigh was swallowed by his lips on hers.  The kiss was far more gentle than any of the others they had shared, even the ones from before their separation.  With a slight thrill she realized that they would have hundreds, even thousands, more kisses of all sorts in the years to come.  As they parted she couldn’t help her giddy smile at the thought.

Killian raised his brow at her, his gaze teasing, “Already, Swan?  We’ve only just surfaced.”

“What?  No!” She laughed, pushing him back, “I mean, yeah but not like that.  I was thinking about us kissing but years from now kind of kisses.”

“Years from now,” he repeated in awe.  He leaned back towards her, “I like the sound of that.”

“Me too,” she sighed.  Then she crinkled her nose at him, “Even if I do end up supporting you because you have to keep paying fines since you’re a big YouTube star now.  I know how you guys gotta keep posting content.”

“Har, har, love.  Just so you know, Cora has already spun this in my favor,” he said smugly. “She’s convinced the label that it’s the perfect way to garner attention for my forthcoming album.  Which is why I’ll only be paying a minimal fine instead of what it easily could have been.”

Emma sat back, “So you’re still going to do it?  Record the album?”

“Not exactly, no,” he said with a crooked smile, “The songs I was planning on recording before are, quite honestly, rubbish.  I’ve had a wellspring of inspiration these past few weeks.  Robin is quite pleased with them as a matter of fact and he’s not hold back over the years when something of mine is only worthy of a bin.  I’ll be heading to the studio once the whole contract debacle is taken care of.  That is, of course, only if you agree.”

“Agree to what?” She asked, confused.

“The songs, my love-” he dropped his eyes for a moment and when he looked back up his gaze was wary, “You, us, what we’ve been through?  Well… you know.”

And she did.  She’d written dozens of songs about the man who’d left her in jail and pregnant and just as many about her lonely childhood in foster care.  There was more than one notebook filled with longing ballads about the son she’d never even held.  Hell, the notebook in her purse was pages of scribbles and half formed lyrics about Killian and their time together.  So she knew exactly what he was getting at.  She also had one niggling thought about it.

“Yeah, I do,” she said with a slow nod.  Reaching towards him she took his hand between hers, “I think you should record the songs you’ve written, even the ones that I know don’t paint me in the best light, but I do have one request.”

“Anything,” he breathed, his hand flexing in hers.

“I don’t want to hear any of them until the final mix-” she let go of his hand to cover his mouth as he tried to protest, “No, hear me out first.  I’m sure the songs are good, great even since Robin is excited about them, and that’s exactly why I want to wait to hear them.  I know how much work goes into making an album and thanks to Ruby you know exactly how big a fan I am of your music.  I just- I think I want to have that giddy moment listening to your first big solo album as the finished thing.”

Killian tugged her hand away from his lips and gave her a wry grin, “So you want to enjoy the sausage without seeing all the unappetizing steps of how it gets made?”

“Uh, weird analogy but yeah,” she said, relieved that it hadn’t caused another fight, “I wouldn’t mind seeing the pigs before slaughter though.”

“So you’ll berate me for the initial analogy but then proceed to take it to a much darker place.  I see how your mind works, Swan,” Killian said with narrowed eyes and a look of mock sternness.

“I work with what I’m given,” she said with a shrug.

Killian huffed out a laugh before he grew serious, taking the hand that was still in his and placing them both over his heart, “You can look at every song I’ve ever written, love.  Even the shit ones from primary school.”

She gave him a smile she knew was giddy, “Oh, I definitely want to look at those but I think for now I’ll stick to your most recent ones.”

“Wise decision,” he murmured,half rising from his stool, “Shall I go get them now?”

“No, it’s late, I can look at them tomorrow-” she flexed her fingers on his chest and when he looked back at her she tried to let him see every ounce of love she was feeling, “I’m not going anywhere.”

His smile unfurled slowly but adoration and love was bright in his eyes, “Good.”

#captain swan #cs ff #cs fan fic #cs fanfic #captain swan fan fiction #captain swan fan fic #captain swan fanfic #captain swan ff #ouat ff #my writing

[timextoxhajima]

Playlist Feels

*SHORT SERIES

Member: j u y e o n

Genre: drama with chaebol/lawyer juyeon

A/N: I’m investing way too much feelings and emotions into this i might cry when it ends. this chapter is more serious i guess i can’t be writing angst and smut every chapter LOL

Link to other parts: 

I Never Wanna See You Again

Frustrated (light smut)

Love Somebody (light smut)

Play With Fire (smut)

~

“i’m playing with fire.”

all you wanted to do was have breakfast, but you walk out along the hallways of the second floor only to watch an entire crowd of staff members push and pull countless of racks across the living room. 

the female staff member who recognised you from the previous week notices you standing awkwardly behind the wall, struggling to process the crowd at the foot of the stairs. 

you watch her say something to another staff member, before she strolls across the living room and heads up the stairs to greet you.

“i’m going to hope you don’t have any clothes of your own,” she smiles at you, eyes flitting to your neck for a split second and looks at your bare legs. 

“uh--” you stumble on your tongue, having trouble finding any words to say. you completely forget about the marks on your neck, and you were only in his underwear with the large pullover barely covering your rear. 

“i’m gonna get you a robe while you choose your clothes for today and i’ll run you a bath before you have breakfast.”

you watch as she walks away into the bathroom, and again, you wonder why it was so difficult to think of anything to say. you had expected the house staff to be judging you for sleeping with him, but they all seemed so nice and candid, it was a little difficult to believe. 

you just couldn’t get the idea of juyeon being such a kind, relaxed boss out of your head. 

she returns from the bathroom with a robe, the water now running and a rose scent begins to waft through your nose. “here,” she hands you the robe and waits for you to put it on. 

“mr lee wanted you to pick out as many clothes as you wanted, and he wants you to know not to worry about the price.”

you reach the bottom of the stairs with her standing right next to you, and you see at least three racks of clothes surrounding the living room. there were at least two full-body mirrors next to the sofas, and a separate mobile shelf with shoes. 

“uh... do i have to? where are my clothes from yesterday?” your hand unconsciously reaches up to your neck to cover your skin. 

“in the laundry! we’ll get it steamed and ready for you by lunch, but right now, he’s told us he wants to see you in something from any of these racks. he didn’t exactly give us much choice either,” she gives you a look that comforts you, gently patting your arm to encourage you. 

you choose out exactly five different sets of clothes, which included shoes. you suddenly feel like you went on a splurge and your credit card would’ve exceeded by now, judging by the brands the clothes were from. 

you soak yourself in the bathtub, the light from behind you illuminating the white, black and golden surfaces. you couldn’t help but to let your head replay the memories from the night before as the rose scent pulls all the knots in your body apart. 

it felt like you were on vacation, when you were really just... feeding off your boyfriend’s wealth. you felt guilty, and frankly, a little worried that people were going to start thinking you were with him for his money. 

you haven’t done anything for him besides curse at him, take the credit for his workings for the case and sleep in his bed. 

you shake your thoughts away, deciding that it was time for you to get your due breakfast before working on the case. 

you were pushing the last few bites of the strange looking pudding around in the bowl, and the female staff from before was in the dining room with you, arranging the cutlery and utensils away from sight.

“hey, uh--” you call out, looking at her while mrs jung comes out of the kitchen. you wonder why it took you three meals before you notice that you could see into the kitchen. the dining table was right next to a black counter where mrs jung would leave the food right after it was prepared, and the kitchen itself looked extravagant.

“you called?” the female staff lays down the plate and walks over to your side. 

“yeah, uh...” you scratch your temple, slightly pulling on the turtleneck you chose to hide the bruises he left. “you don’t-- happen to think that... i’m with mr lee for his money... do you?”

the female staff blinks in surprise at you, and before she could respond, mrs jung does the honor. 

“oh, my dear, definitely not! you’d be surprised at how good juyeon-nim is at picking out who’s genuine and who isn’t.” you turn and watch mrs jung carry some leftover food back into the kitchen. 

“we were very surprised when he asked you to stay last friday, past the time where the house staff gets off work. he doesn’t like guests over, unless they are his parents... so it was nice to see him bring someone back.”

you let a small laugh escape your lips, feeling the blood rush up to your ears and cheek. 

hold on. 

‘someone’?

“you mean he’s never brought anybody home before?” 

“not willingly, no.” mrs jung responds from the kitchen. “juyeon-nim is only friendly to people he trusts and even then he’s extremely cautious, though sometimes a little dense... but now that we know how comfortable he is with you, and we’re all just happy for him.”

you feel a second wave of embarrassment wash over you, your hand now wrapping around your own neck and pulling up the material to hide any possible marks that were peeking out from under. 

“you don’t have to hide those as long as you’re here. everybody knows what happened,” the female staff member teases you, clearing the plates that you literally licked the crumbs off from before. 

“awh... nooooo,” you whine, hiding your face in your hands. 

the staff member laughs at your embarrassment, encouraging you to finish your dessert before she tells you where his office was. 

you get the door open, and the first thing you notice was the similar L-shaped glass windows like his bedroom had. the desk sat on the right side, with a main leather seat back facing a large shelf. the levels were alternated between files and small, expensive-looking statues and souvenirs. 

right before the glass panels were two single-seaters with a small coffee table between them, and your eyes took awhile to notice the little fridge under the table. 

you log into the computer with ease, surprised that there wasn’t a password required. you remember mrs jung saying that he doesn’t have anybody over, and you figure that nobody else has been in his office anyway. the worry about someone hacking into his files was non-existent. 

your suitcase was already placed by the table, and you wonder when did it get here. did he leave it in here last night? this morning? or did he get a staff member to do it?

the online system was perfectly synced with the system you had in the office, and all you needed to do was log in with your information before your case displays itself on the screen. 

you get to work almost immediately, every now and then looking past the computer screen to look out the large glass windows. 

the clouds were so fluffy against the bright blue sky today, and you couldn’t help but imagine chanhee, eric and sunwoo’s reactions when they notice you didn’t clock in today.

oh. chanhee, eric and sunwoo.

you reach over to your suitcase and pull out your cellphone, noticing the nearly ten missed calls you got from them starting about five minutes before the supposed reporting time. 

chanhee: where the hell are you? its 7.55am!

eric: did she oversleep

chanhee: she doesn’t oversleep

sunwoo: not with that annoying ass alarm she’s got

you smile to yourself, unable to contain your happiness as you scroll down.

chanhee: why do we have to hear about your absence from our manager?

sunwoo: wait

eric: OH MY GOD

sunwoo: mf WAIT

eric: DID THE BOSS TELL OUR MANAGER THAT YOU WEREN’T COMING IN TODAY

sunwoo: DID YOU SLEEP WITH HIM AGAIN

chanhee: but he’s in office! 

sunwoo: so? he could’ve just left her at home and came to work to reduce suspicion cause it’ll too obvious if the both of them are absent

eric: unless...

sunwoo: i’m betting on that and OTHER REASONS

eric: i was thinking about other reasons

chanhee: whatever the reason, call us during our lunch break!

eric: yeah we want details

sunwoo: fucking disgusting

you snort to yourself, ready to keep your phone away and finish up the case. 

but the aggressive vibration from your phone stops you just as you laid it down, and you sigh heavily when you see the caller ID. 

“yello,” you put the phone down on the table, keeping it on loudspeaker. 

“why do you sound so glum? i return from a two month trip and this is how you greet me?”

you roll your eyes, laying your hands right at the keyboard. “hi mom, how was your trip to san francisco?”

“oh, it was gorgeous!” she says with a strange accent. must’ve been the american air for two months. “i was pretty sad to leave, but nothing can stop me from coming back to see you!”

“when have you ever needed to see me?” your tone was unenthusiastic, and you resist the urge to hang up altogether. 

“aw, no, honey,” she whines. “are you still mad about last year?”

“just so you know, i’m gonna stay mad for quite a bit, so don’t expect anything different.”

“aw, but you did say you wanted swavroski--”

“yeah, a swavroski ring! not the damn brand!” you huff, burying your face into your hands. your eyes were on the screen, staring at the case document, but all you could hear was the heavy breathing over the phone. 

“i take it that you haven’t signed the contract to claim ownership of the brand.”

“of course i didn’t! i left home so i could build a life for myself. you promised me that you’d leave me and my finances and my life alone. you know i don’t want you or dad’s help but you go ahead and buy a whole jewellery brand?!”

silence. 

“i’m never signing that contract, just so you know. it’s been sitting at home since you had it mailed to me while you ran off to canada.”

“are you still living in that tiny flat by the lake outside of town?”

you pick up a pinch of contempt in her voice. “yeah, what’s so bad about my 'tiny flat’?”

“nothing,” liar. “i just want you to have the best we can afford.”

“again with the ‘we’. how many times do i have to tell you that i don’t want you or dad’s help?”

“but--”

“no,” you snap into the phone, picking it up and hovering your thumb over the hang up button. “i’m gonna go now because i have work to do. don’t call me unless it’s to tell me that someone else already owns swavroski.”

you finally hang up and you throw the phone back into your suitcase, hands on your forehead as you return your attention to the screen. 

needed me? what a load of bullcrap. 

maybe if she didn’t treat you like some kind of trophy when you were younger, you’d believe that she genuinely loved you. 

you were called to lunch when the sun was at its highest, the blinding rays bouncing off windows and the metal from buildings that it heated up the room like a toaster. 

mrs jung’s food never fails to deliver, and the female staff from before struggles to tuck your napkin into your clothes so that the gravy doesn’t fly about. 

you were mindlessly praising the hell out of mrs jung’s pasta when you hear a staff outside the dining room shout. you turn at the sound of the doors swinging open, and you find yourself standing immediately at the sight of a lady who looked like a million bucks. 

“what do you mean he’s in offic--” the lady finally turns her attention from the staff outside the dining room and to you. “and... who are you?”

so much for that lunch phone call to your friends.

you find yourself sitting awkwardly opposite her, carefully watching as she swirls the wine in her glass. you feel her eyes pierce right through you, and your hands reach up to your turtleneck in a bid to pull it upwards.

“there’s no need to hide,” she nearly scolds you, and the harsh tone strikes a chord in you. “i know who you are.”

what?

“you’re the reason why my son’s fiance is in shambles right now.”

his what--

“i’m sorry, who?” you squint your eyes at her, for a split second forgetting that she was the mother of your now-boyfriend.

“he didn’t tell you?” she offers a smile of disbelief. “and here i was thinking he changed for the better.”

“’for the better’? he wanted to leave the country to do charity work, not run away.”

“he was running away from the responsibilities he was born to shoulder. we do enough charity for him to stay,” she leans forward on the table, one palm pressed flat on the surface. 

“but he didn’t even want the damn law fi--”

“mother!” 

the both of you turn to the door of the dining room. every staff member within your line of vision looked like they were scared shitless, which was a strange sight, considering how relaxed and candid they were in the absence of this... crazy lady.

who might be my mother-in-law? ugh. 

“you should’ve told me you’re visiting,” juyeon walks in the doors and the staff members shut them behind him. he grabs a seat next to you, and it visibly stuns his mother. 

“i wouldn’t have bothered if i knew you weren’t even at home,” she watches in slight disgust as juyeon leans into your face and plants a kiss on your cheek. your eyes widen and your heart feels extremely heavy. “care to explain what is going on?”

juyeon carefully sits his suitcase next to his chair as the kitchen staff serves him a glass of wine. you remember the only food that was prepared was only for you and the staff members.

“what’s there to explain? i never said i agreed to marry anybody i was told to.”

you watch anxiously, eyes switching between juyeon, who was calmly sipping on his wine, and his mother, who was so angry that you could almost see the steam escaping from her ears...

“and so you run off and sleep with some random girl?”

ouch.

“will she still be ‘some random girl’ if you knew what she was capable of? she’s closed more cases in six months than i did in a year, mother.”

“i didn’t think a lawyer would let someone leave such savage marks all over her body like this!” she berates you, hand carelessly gesturing to all of you.

“which year did you walk through a portal from? it’s not the 1800s, mother.”

wow, so she blames me and not the one who made these marks?

“girls nowadays.”

you could feel juyeon’s frustration hit the roof, and the atmosphere in the dining hall gets heavier as each second passes in silence. 

“what are you here for, anyway? just to ask me about me dumping my fiance who i never even loved? i don’t even like her face, mother. she’s an incapable princess who does nothing but sit around and gets waited on.”

“forget about that, you’ve gone ahead and spent your weekend breaking off the engagement anyway,” his mother glares at the two of you. 

didn’t he spend his weekend with his family--

“but i do want to know why you’re back in the office.”

juyeon locks his jaw in odd angles, and if you didn’t know it was his mother who was pissing him off, you would’ve thought he was going to throw a punch across the table. 

“what do you mean ‘why i’m back in the office’? doing my job and accepting my responsibilities like you wanted to!” 

“and you didn’t have the decency to at least inform us? we were ready to re-sell it to the bureau director!” 

juyeon sucks in a deep breath and stands up, eyes tightly shut as you watch him collect his feelings. his mother remains relaxed in the seat opposite you, arms tightly crossed over her chest but her face still brimming with anger and dissatisfaction. 

“okay,” he leans downwards, pressing his palms flat against the surface of the table. “if you’re so upset then i assume a contract has already been drawn up, yes?”

his mother doesn’t respond. 

“alright, i’ll contact the bureau director and i’ll explain the situation. it’s you the bureau director has a problem with, anyway. it’ll be easy for me.”

your face was turned to juyeon, but your eyes couldn’t resist the temptation to look at his mother. she had just been outspoken by her son, and you felt so proud of him for standing up for himself. 

his mother finishes the win, visibly angry. she gets up and leaves the dining hall, and when you hear the lift ‘ding’ followed by the sound of its gears shutting its doors, you heaved a sigh of relief.

the entire room relaxes and begins helping to clear the table. juyeon was the only one who looked like he was about to burst from anger and frustration. 

you stand up and wrap your arms around his torso, leaning your chin on his shoulder.

“hey.”

“i’m sorry you had to see that.”

you shake your head, pulling away and hugging his arm instead. 

“i’m sorry that i lied about what i did over the weekend, and i’m sorry i didn’t tell you i was already engaged.”

you let the pain of the realisation sink in for a moment, before giving him a weak smile. “well, it wasn’t really a lie. you said it was something to do with your family... and besides, you broke off the engagement.” you reach over his chest and find his arm to pull him to face you, looking up at him whose eyes were filled with remorse. 

naturally, a shitty feeling swamps you when you lose sight of his prideful, authorial self, so you pull his face down to meet yours and you feel him melt into the kiss. 

“do you need to go back to the office?” you let him go, his hands now resting on your waist.

“yeah,” he sighs apologetically. “i only came back because the lobby called to tell me my mother was here.”

“aw,” you grin in attempt to shake off the tension that was still hanging in the air. “nice to know you came back to save me from your mother.”

a smile appears on his lips, and he pulls you in all so suddenly, planting a soft kiss on your forehead.

“maybe i shouldn’t leave my marks so high up your neck next time.”

you sigh with your lips in smile, pressing your head into his chest as he wraps his arms tightly around you. 

THE NEXT DAY

your arm was linked tightly with juyeon’s as he walks you up the stairs of the grand hotel, the ends of your gown dragging along the marble surface to the restaurant where he would meet the bureau director. 

you couldn’t take your eyes off him, though the simple suit was nothing compared to the dress he had prepared for you within a day’s notice. you reach the restaurant entrance and the lady immediately recognises him, turning to lead you two into the restaurant and in the corner where the private rooms were.

“so just to be clear, ignore your mother and be nice to the bureau director, right?” you giggle as the restaurant staff knocks on the door. 

juyeon laughs and pecks you on your temple. “maybe if you ignore her enough, she’ll start wanting your attention.”

you snicker to yourself, watching the door pull open and the light from inside spills out. 

you trail behind juyeon and look into the room, and your heart stops in your chest.

the world stops revolving around the sun and your breath hitches in your throat, your grip on juyeon’s arm tightening instantly when you see the two people in the room. 

“mother,” juyeon awkwardly starts, only noticing your sudden grip on his arm. 

mother. 

she looks at you with wide, surprised eyes before they dissipate into a wide smile. 

“this is the bureau director, mrs--”

“it’s alright,” she stops juyeon. “i know who she is.”

you gulp and your chest collapses in on itself. 

of all people, THIS bureau director just had to be your mother?

Part 6: Bourbon

#timetohajima #timetohajima playlist feels #lee juyeon #the boyz #the boyz juyeon #juyeon imagine #juyeon scenario #juyeon fanfic #juyeon

[unholyhelbig]

Werewolf Bechloe Prompt: Beca is away for the weekend to visit friends and/or family. One late night, Beca wakes up to a noise outside her window and finds a wolf looking straight at her.

A/N: So… It’s been over a year since I’ve updated this AU. This prompt has been in my inbox for close to two. But since it’s almost spooky season, I figured I’d give it another shot! 

Read the full Series here | Request Prompts here 

“It’s a full moon tonight, isn’t it Beca?” the question was innocent enough, wavered out and drawn between breaths. It took her great grandmother a lot to stir from her placid spot at the head of the table. That was her seat- had been since Beca was a young girl. She didn’t’ know if it had to do with age or if her grandmother would take over the place had she still been alive.

The sound of scraping forks picking up the last of watery gravy seemed to halt at the raspy voice. Her aunt Chrissy stopped tearing a doughy roll in half and her Uncle Roth kept the spoon halfway to the green beans, steaming and stinking. Beca herself stopped mid-chew and glanced at the older woman. Mute and quiet for as long as she could remember.

Her father nudged her shoulder like he was the first one to snap out of the trance. He raised his studious eyebrows and the whole family seemed to wait for an explanation. The potatoes and the roast and that awfully rancid gravy was left untouched in the historic-looking dining room. “Uh, I… I think it is, yes.”  

She nodded her shaking head and dug the prongs of her fork back into the garlic mashed potatoes before the room decided to pick up again. The conversation easy for family catching up after months of exchanging small texts or liking photo’s on Facebook. Beca fell into silence herself, pushing the dry meat around with her fork before zoning out completely.

Beca could stand the normal family interactions after a four-hour drive. She smiled and hugged and laughed when her cousins did. But she kept to herself, silently collecting the dishes as her father wheeled Grandmother May into the living room. She washed said dishes and let her hands grasp blindly through the hot water and bubbles before she ran a sponge over the unfinished meals.

“I haven’t heard her speak in years.”

The youngest of the family startled against the words of her older cousin. Josie was a tall and lanky woman with deep golden hair, a stark difference from the rest of the family with their stocky dispositions and deep midnight eyes. Hers were green, green, and cat-like. The black sheep of the family who still moved to Hollywood to set up lights on big-time movie sets. She and Beca had a lot in common; they spoke like equals.

Josie picked up a dishrag and moved to grab a rinsed plate “Mind if I help?”

“Hm, I was wondering if I was going to have to pick up all the slack myself,” Beca smirked, dunking another dish. “It’s weird though, the question about the full moon.”

Her Great Grandmother was right, however. The moon hung in the sky as if it were balancing from a velvet string. It illuminated the backyard, a little neon square blocked by their shadows cast against the grass. When Beca was younger she was always afraid an unearthed corpse from the cemetery up the road would make misty eye contact with her through the pane. She would cry when she had to do the dishes.

“She’s an old lady, I’m surprised she can follow the day of the week much less the lunar cycle.”

“Right,” Beca chuckled. She shut off the water and snatched a clean towel from the counter before drying her hands of the hot water. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard her voice. Maybe in tapes but it’s kind of unsettling you know? That she chose now, on our billionth family reunion to finally speak. And to me of all people.”

“Maybe you’re the favorite. Or maybe Great Grandma May is a shapeshifter bent on turning the whole family into wolves one by one-“Josie leaned close, her breath smelling of the strawberry candies that were kept on the front table. “Starting with you.”

Beca narrowed her eyes and mulled it over for a moment. “You’re a freak, you know that right?”

“You and me both, Bec’s.”

Beca hated to admit it, But Josie’s words clung to her like a tick on a deer. Not noticeable at first, not while they finished up the dishes and joked sparingly about the way their family would carry on for hours until their eyes grew heavy.

It wasn’t until she was balancing on the edge of a blow-up mattress with her aunt who snored, that she really gave the statement a once over. Her fingers traced absently at the scars against her arms from two months earlier. Still healing and red with irritation.

She stared at the ceiling, listening to the humidifier situated in the corner of the room. She tried to count the flowers that were plastered against the wall sometime in the late seventies. Shapeshifters. Ridiculous.

Beca had started to dose off, her breathing getting slow and her fingers curled into the t-shirt she wore. Eventually, she started to feel her body grow heavy. Her father used to tell her if she pretended to sleep, it wouldn’t be long until she actually drifted into unconsciousness.

Then there was a creak, an old floorboard in the hallway of the old ranch house. Her eyes show open and her heart pressed against the inside of her wrist. The blow-up mattress was starting to deflate and it crunched under her weight as she lifted herself up on her elbow.  

It was an old house, she told herself diligently, old houses made noises that were out of her control. The pipes would groan and the backup generator in the shed still sputtered black smoke even when it was idle- but wait- there it was again.

She blinked slowly and decided to rise to her feet as silently as possible to not disturb the other people in the room. The door hinges hissed and she hit the wrong floorboard that had settled in the first place.

Beca made it to the kitchen and grabbed a mug with a rooster on the side, filling it up with room temperature water. She gulped it down easily, reaching once more for the faucet- when she saw eyes.

Beca had been used to staring at her own reflection I the path of the full moon. It was pale and ghostly against the window-pane. She never looked for too long, never gazed where she wasn’t meant to. Everything that the pale moonlight touched didn’t seem tangible; it wasn’t of this world. The grass looked blue and the sky looked darker against the moon.

But those eyes, those orange eyes that nearly looked crimson, stared unwaveringly at her. Her fingers itched at the scars against her arms. They had mostly healed but they ached now. They burned and she scratched like it was a discomfort instead of an unpleasant memory.

Dogs didn’t scare her, and she wasn’t sure if she would admit it if they did. These eyes looked otherworldly. Another thing that was claimed by the moonlight. Even still, she set the mug down on the counter and leaned forward. She could feel the cold seeping through the glass. The creature blinked.

“I loved one once too.”

Beca felt her heart jump into her throat. If she was still holding the tacky glass it would have shattered against the floor into a million pieces, slicing into the bottoms of her feet. She turned abruptly, her back to the sink and to the wild animal that watched her like a vice.

Her great grandmother had wheeled herself into the kitchen. A blanket was draped over her legs, dragging on the floor. Her hands gripped the wheels and her ghostly grey eyes blinked at the glass patio doors. Beca was frozen in fear and curiosity. May’s stare focused on her in a matter of seconds- the only fast-moving thing about the woman.

“What?” Beca croaked out.

“I met him in the late ’30s.” She continued, ignoring Beca’s protests “he worked in a malt shop down by the coast in Maine. My parents used to vacation there for the month of June and the year I graduated high school was my last going. He was… beautiful.”

Beca nodded, and more than anything, she listened. She had seen pictures of her Grandmother May and her daughter after that. Her own mother was practically a spitting image of them both. She could almost imagine the choppy waves and the cold sand that wasn’t meant to be fully enjoyed.

“I knew from the start that he wasn’t human. His mannerisms, his strength, his possessiveness. There was something deep and wild against him but none of that mattered. I had never fallen in love so hard and so fast in my life.”

She swallowed “How did you know?”

“That I was in love or that he wasn’t like us?”

“Both, I suppose.”

Her Great Grandmother smiled sweetly, her stare returning to the moon-soaked yard. Beca knew the eyes were gone and the creature who gazed upon them had slinked back into the woods at the edge of the property. “He smelled like the forest.” She whispered.

They stood in a stifled quiet for what seemed like a long time before the same floorboards that gave her away in the first place creaked once more. Josie had stirred, seeing that she was missing. She flicked on the hall light and the dull yellow glow made Beca flinch.

“Jesus, what are you two doing out here?” She rubbed her eyes with the back of her hand “it’s nearly three am.”

Witching hour- Beca decided with a shrug as Josie grasped onto the padded handles of their grandmother’s wheelchair. May had gone back to her mute staring and her cousin shot her an odd look before speaking softly to the older woman, directing her back towards her room at the end of the hall.

Beca turned back towards the sink, placing the mug in the metal basin. She stared towards the forest, but it was no use, the hall light washed everything away. Even if the creature had returned, she wouldn’t know, and part of her didn’t want to.

#beca mitchell #Chloe Beale #Bechloe #Bechloe au #were!chloe #werewolf au #werewolf #pitch perfect #pitch perfect au

[mommymooze]

Hunting Trip

Warning: omg bunnies don’t make it. And bandits, but who cares about them? Blood.  Fighting.

 The kitchens of Garreg Mach are always working. You like to think of yourself as the backbone of the monastery. The Knights of Seiros and the Academy are two armies, and everyone knows an army marches on its stomach. If it is not cooking, you’re preparing and preserving foods. Pickling and brining, smoking and drying, counting and measuring. Head Chef Martha has reviewed the stock. They need at least 40 more rabbits put in brine soon. She picks you to ask the professors for some volunteers to form a hunting party.

Petra is sent from the Black Eagles. Felix from the Blue Lions and Leonie and Ignatz from the Golden Deer. Everyone brings bows as requested. You have a sack with multiple snares, several hunting daggers, and a sword. Felix doesn’t go anywhere without a few swords, Petra has brought one as well. Everyone agrees to meet at sunrise in front of the gates of the monastery. Heading to the East the party enters the woods and begins to set the snares. The group moves silently through the woods, closer to the edge of the forest.

Felix stops and signals, Petra nods, the group moves slowly to the edge of the woods. Ahead is a clearing. Arrows are nocked, suddenly the fluttering of wings and call of pheasants is loud as a flock takes to the air. Arrows quickly chase the birds, causing some to fall back to the ground. Leonie carries the bag with eight fresh pheasants as everyone recovers their arrows.

They sit in a circle taking a brief rest break. You pull out small sacks full of biscuits, sausage and sweet rolls.

“We are having excellent weather for the hunting.” Petra smiles taking a bite of a roll.

“Hey, if you don’t have use for the skins, can I have them?” Asks Leonie. “those would be great for winter jackets, especially the rabbit fur.”

You smile at the frugal friend. “Yes. We’re too busy to preserve them properly. We usually compost them.”

“What’s our count?” Felix asks, taking a couple more pieces of meat.

“Eight rabbits, seven pheasants and five fat red squirrels.” You answer. “Thank you for giving up your time.” You shyly smile, knowing the students are very busy with their own schoolwork and chores.

Back on the hunt, the group moves to the north of the monastery. Petra and Felix seem to be competing as to who can bag the most rabbits. They are tied at eight each.  Walking to the edge of the woods you look out over a field of wild grasses, out of the corner of your eye you see smoke drifting into the sky. You run back to your fellow hunters.

“I saw smoke. Someone must be out here.” You announce.

“We are to be using the great caution.” Petra agrees.

Felix immediately heads in the direction of the smoke, followed by Petra. You hang back a bit with Leonie and Ashe. You only see the backs of your friends, they talk between themselves, then Felix returns.

“Bandits. Looks like they plan to attack the village across from the monastery. The three of you should circle wide out that direction.” Felix points. “Firing arrows down from the high ground. Once Petra and I see the arrows, we will go in and attack. There are only 7 or 8 of them, certainly enough for us to take down.”

You nod with your companions and quietly move through the woods in the direction you are sent. There is a bit of a ridge there, the bandits must be on the other side.  Everyone takes a deep breath.

Leonie whispers. “One…two…three!”

Suddenly arrows are raining down on the bandits as they are scrambling for their weapons. There were more like nine or ten of them. Petra gives out a war cry as she and Felix start fighting with the brigands. The archers aim carefully now as friends are in the middle of the melee.  Ashe cheers as he takes another bandit out.

You hear a movement to your right, one of the bandits is sneaking up the far side of the hill trying to end the rain of arrows showering down on his comrades. You drop your bow and pull out your sword, swinging when he is close. The bandit counters your swing, then parries, causing you to jump back out of his range. You bring your sword back, taking a hard swing at him, he catches it against his blade. Seeing an opportunity, you put your weight against your blade, sliding forward along his and into his neck causing a deep gash in his throat, you then kick him in the chest. Dropping his weapon he falls, tumbling down the hill. You grab his sword and throw it toward Leonie and Ignatz. Running down the hill towards the sword fighting you find the battle is at an end. Felix is finishing his last opponent. The other archers follow you down the hill, bringing your bow with them.

“Everyone okay?” You ask as you notice a cut in the navy-haired swordsman’s shirt, blood staining the slice. “Felix, sit.”

“You’re a cook, not a cleric.” He angrily grunts.

“I work in a small room with sharp knives, cleavers, boiling liquids and other dangers. We all heal. Luckily I’m one of the best.” You say as you pull his shirt out of the way. Grabbing your water skin you soak a clean handkerchief and clean out the wound. Not too deep, still needs healing. Laying your hands on each side of the wound you call upon faith magic needed to close the gash, leaving a faint pink line in the swordsman’s side.

“Thanks.” Felix mumbles, looking away.

The hunting party begins to head back, the unplanned battle taking a lot of energy out of everyone. They still manage to bag more rabbits as they finally make it to the snares.

“Thanks. You can go.” You wave.

The students start heading back to the monastery, the walls peek over the other side of the clearing. Felix turns around, helping you gather the snares.

You give him a curious look, then return to remove another rabbit from a trap.

“You shouldn’t be out here by yourself. Our fight earlier proves that.” Felix grumbles as he puts several snares back in the bag.

“Thanks.” You say softly, not looking at him. The count is 41 rabbits, so the mission is completed successfully. Everything is packed up. You reach for the bag of snares, however Felix has already hauled it over his shoulder before you can grab it. You nod in thanks.

Quietly the two of you walk back inside the gates and head to the kitchens. You reach out your hand to take the bag from the swordsman.

“Spar with me.” He asks.

This catches you off guard. Not knowing what to say, your mouth answers for you. “Okay.”

You leave the food with the kitchen staff. You request that they save all pelts for Leonie. Then you head to the training grounds where Felix is already busy with his sword forms. You stand to the side and watch him. He finishes his form then waves you over and points to a spot next to him, handing you a wooden sword. He takes his ready stance and looks at you. You assume the same stance. He takes his sword from its sheath pulling it to a ready position and steps back. You copy his steps. He continues this through all twelve positions of the form. He brings you back to the starting position. At each step, as you follow his movements, he explains that it is taking action against an enemy, he describes how they are attacking, the direction that they are coming and where their weapon is aimed. The third time through he mirrors your moves, correcting your stance, foot placement, the swing of the blade. The fourth time he is alongside you, both of you completing the form together. He then has you complete the form alone.

“Good. Practice that every day. Maybe next week I will show you another.” Felix says in a neutral tone.

You nod in response.

“You don’t talk much.” Felix says, watching the wooden sword he is twirling in his hands.

You shrug. “Not much to say.”

Felix shakes his head and takes a few steps away. Suddenly he turns around, practice sword at the ready. “Spar!”

You take your stance and he immediately is on the attack. You are able to block many of his swings, however your offensive jabs and attacks are simply awful.

“What’s your problem?” the swordsman spits angrily. “You could fight the bandit, but you’re hardly trying here.”

“Don’t want to hurt you.” You cough, embarrassed.

“I can’t judge your technique, see how good or bad you are, can’t help you improve unless you give 100%. Fight me like you mean it.” Felix brings his sword down in a hard swing to emphasize his point.

You take a couple of deep breaths to clear your mind. Finally you nod.

Felix comes at you like a lion after its prey. You start off defensive, then begin to counter. Eventually you focus on the battle, the fight. Countering, blocking attacking when there is an opportunity. He gets quite a few good hits on you. Your strikes were mostly blocked, but a few are going to leave him some bruises later, you think. You finally get a foot hooked behind his knee throwing Felix off balance as he hits the ground.

“Oh. Sorry.” You say as you reach out your hand to help him up.

Felix grabs your arm, rolling and jerking you down to the ground, lying on top of your sword arm as he puts his blade under your chin. “Yield.”

“I Yield.” You groan. You put your hand over your face. He hadn’t yielded and here you were giving him your hand. Basic amateur move.

Felix gets off the ground dusting himself off. “Not bad for your first time. Your stance is awful, your thrusts are all wrong. You need to angle your swings better but you are a hell of a lot stronger than you look. Not only that, you kept me working out for over two hours without complaining. Not bad.”

You nod just as the bells ring.

“Guess we missed lunch.” Felix mumbles.

“Come, I know a guy…” you say, heading for the kitchens. Before long you’re sitting in the dining hall eating grilled spicy salami and cheese sandwiches.

Felix finishes every bite of his sandwich. “Are you working tomorrow?”

You nod.

“When are you done? I mean, do you want to spar again?” He says, picking at something on the table.

“Two. Yes.” You smile at him.

“Great, it’s a date.” Felix says as he quickly heads off to the dorms.  

“Hey Felix. Who’s the lovely lady you had lunch with?” Sylvain says as he taps his best friend on his shoulder.

“Shut it, Sylvain.” The swordsman says, looking away from him as he continues forward.

“Well, I’ll just have to find out myself then.” Sylvain calls back, a smirk on his face.

Felix keeps walking away until he is slightly hidden by a post in front of the rooms as he looks back to the kitchen. He watches Sylvain stride straight into the door you’ve just entered in the back of the kitchen. Suddenly, the redhead is falling face first out of the door, his arms wrenched behind his back and he hits the ground hard as you slam the kitchen door shut behind him. Serves him right, Felix grins.

#fe3h #fe16 #feth #fe3h x reader #felix hugo fraldarius #petra macneary #leonie pinelli

[goldenworldsabound]

Welcome Back

Golden returns to Galar to visit Kabu. This is her second time ever in Galar, and she and Kabu have been dating long distance for several months now. Some softness and fluff on their first day back together after many months apart.

Content warning: food. Word count: 3186

Finally, finally Golden was done with Customs. She was thoroughly exhausted from the long flight (which she hadn't been able to sleep on, because she never slept on a plane, unfortunately). Her backpack was starting to feel like a lead weight. And her suitcase felt like more of a pain that it ever had before. And she was tired of stale, cold airport air.

But at the end of all of this, Kabu would be there to greet her. That thought alone kept her going, even as the line for Customs had moved interminably slow and she felt her eyelids beginning to droop.

She passed through the last security checkpoint and the crowd began to disperse. Golden looked eagerly for Kabu, feeling her heart rate beginning to increase as she searched for him. She stood on tiptoes, looking around for him, finally feeling awake again at the prospect of seeing him. But where...?

"Hey." Kabu's voice from behind her made her spin around, a huge smile on her face. She must have walked past him, she thought for a moment, before she lost all of her train of thought as she met his gaze.

"Kabu!" Golden yelled, letting go of her suitcase to practically tackle Kabu with a hug. He laughed, hugging her back as best he could with her backpack still on. She pressed herself to him, unwilling to let go, face buried in his neck.

"It's good to see you, Golden." Kabu said, stroking her hair with one hand. "I missed you."

"I missed you, too." Golden replied, squeezing him tighter in response. Finally, she pulled back, still unable to stop smiling. Even Kabu, who tended to keep a stoic face, had a wide smile he couldn't hide. She was thrilled she could bring such a beautiful smile to his wonderful face. Fuck, she'd missed him so much.

They stood there a moment, staring into each others' eyes. Her gaze wandered to his lips, and suddenly the airport seemed to fade away. Should she...kiss him? She wanted to kiss him. But they had never...she swallowed, finally looking away, putting a hand on her suitcase, blushing.

She didn't realize it, but Kabu had been having similar thoughts. How badly he wanted to kiss her, after not seeing her for months. But he restrained himself. He didn't want to push her boundaries, didn't want to pressure her into anything. Despite his desire, he held back.

"Let me get that. You must be exhausted." Kabu said, putting his hand on top of Golden's on her suitcase handle.

"Oh, thank you...I am exhausted." Golden admitted, stretching her arms over her head for a moment.

"Your backpack too." He held out his other hand expectantly. She handed it over, thanking him again as he waved her off. With the backpack on, Kabu offered Golden his arm. With a giggle, she took his arm, blushing faintly. "It's just a 30 minute train ride back into Motostoke, and a short walk, and then you can rest."

"It's a much nicer trip with you here." Golden admitted, leaning her head on his shoulder for a brief moment. Her stomach growled suddenly.

"Oh, should we grab something before we get on the train?" Kabu asked with a serious expression.

"N-no, that's fine! I'd rather get back to Motostoke first." Golden protested.

"If you're sure." Kabu added. "I have some leftovers at home, if you don't mind day old champon."

"I don't think I've ever had your cooking before." Golden admitted, smiling slyly.

"I admit, I wouldn't have chosen to introduce it to you as leftovers." Kabu replied wryly. "I hope you find it to your taste despite this."

"I have no doubt!"

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

At first, Golden was talking animatedly with Kabu as they rode the train. But slowly, she became quieter, clearly fatigued from her travels. Her head was nodding a bit, brushing against Kabu's shoulder with the motion of the train.

"You should just rest." Kabu said softly, wrapping his arm around her shoulders as she trailed off in the middle of yet another sentence.

"But...I haven't seen you in...in like more than 6 months..." Golden objected, despite laying her head on his shoulder more decisively, snuggling up against him.

"There's time." He squeezed her shoulder reassuringly.

"I...suppose..." Golden's eyes closed, and it wasn't much longer before she drifted to sleep. Kabu couldn't help but stare at her, noticing all the details he hadn't fully appreciated. Her long lashes curving over her cheeks, the way her hair fell in messy waves over her shoulders, the pink on her round cheeks, her small hands folded in her lap. She was beautiful in so many ways. Seeing her in person made it all the more obvious to him how absolutely smitten he was with her.

And how badly he had missed her.

He was content to enjoy this moment as the train raced along the sunset into Motostoke.

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

Golden marveled as they entered Kabu's home. It was on the top floor of one of the taller buildings, and it took up the entire floor. No neighbors for Kabu. The first thing she noticed was how minimalist it was. The walls and floor were predominantly whites and shades of blue-grey. There was a white brick fireplace with a television on the wall above it, and some furniture in dark, natural wood shades. It looked well taken care of, but old, and the style didn't seem to fit Galar. Perhaps it was brought over from Hoenn. There was a grey blue couch and loveseat in front of the fireplace, a patterned red rug on the floor in front of them. There were just a few things hanging on the walls. A large, Hoenn style fan, and some photos of Kabu and his Poke'mon, as well as what she assumed was his family back in Hoenn.

Most striking was that one of the walls was almost entirely a glass window. Even having only just entered the room, she could see that the view would be gorgeous. The last rays of the sun were shining through it, bathing the room in soft yellow light.

The kitchen and the living room seemed to share an open space, the carpet giving way to tile. The kitchen was sleek and modern, a contrast to the wooden end tables and other furniture that decorated the living room. An island counter aided in defining when the space changed from living room to kitchen. Golden also noticed 3 doors that led to other rooms, but she didn't have a chance to see where they went before Kabu drew her attention.

"I wasn't sure what you'd prefer," He started, looking away from her gaze for a moment, brushing a hand through his hair. "So I made up the guest bed. But you can also sleep in my room, with me, of course." His cheeks flushed. "No pressure, it's up to you."

Golden felt herself blush in response to the question. "Your room." She mumbled. Despite this exciting development and the awkwardness, she was still overwhelmed by her exhaustion, unable to spare the energy to be properly flustered.

Kabu nodded. "Great. In that case, why don't you unpack a little and get changed into your pajamas while I heat up the champon? You look like you might keel over at any moment." He teased.

"I'm...I'm totally awake." Golden grumbled, forcing her eyes fully open to pout at him. He was right, of course. But it was still so early, and she didn't want to waste any of the precious time she had with him.

He ruffled her hair with his hand, laughing a little. "Of course you are." He motioned for her to follow him, pushing open one of the doors. "This is my bedroom. You're welcome to unpack wherever, though I imagine you'll leave most of the unpacking for tomorrow, at this rate." He squeezed her shoulder gently. "I'll go work on that champon, you come out when you're ready."

Golden nodded her assent, and Kabu left, heading for the kitchen and closing the door behind him. She took a moment, looking around the room. A king sized bed, from the looks of things, a door that she assumed led to a bathroom, what looked like a closet door, a large black dresser...

Right, she could take a closer look later. For now...what the hell was she gonna change into...usually, she just slept in her panties. Just the thought of that turned her face crimson. Right, yeah, she'd packed some short shorts and some oversized t-shirts. After some digging around in her suitcase, she changed.

...of course, even this was making Golden's face warm. Sure, she'd dressed like this while they'd video chatted on numerous occasions, but in person...it felt immensely more intimate. She pressed her hands over her face, feeling the heat on her cheeks. Alright, deep breaths...and no doubt Kabu would find this look very cute, too...

She peeked out of the bedroom, pushing the door open tentatively, Her other hand reflexively rubbed at her eyes. She really was exhausted. Would she even make it through dinner?

"Oh, just in time!" Kabu called from the kitchen at the sound of the door opening. Centiskorch skittered up to her happily, while she could see Ninetales staring at her from the edge of the kitchen. Arcanine was absent, which surprised her. She pet the bug happily, cooing to it, noticing that Kabu hadn't yet turned around. With Centiskorch following at her side, she wandered shyly over to the dining table that was adjacent to the kitchen, holding the bottom of her shirt with both hands.

Having finished ladling out champon into two bowls, he grabbed them both and turned to walk to the table. For a moment Golden thought he was going to drop them as he noticed her. He cleared his throat awkwardly, cheeks as red as hers were, before carefully walking to the table and setting the bowls down.

"Um, please, have a seat." Kabu mumbled, as he did so himself. Golden sat across from him, shyly staring down into her bowl.

She picked up her spoon tentatively. It wasn't that she was worried about how she'd like the food or anything remotely like that. It was just that she felt so damn shy, which was really not helped by the fact that she could still feel Kabu's eyes on her. Surely he was wondering why she wasn't eating.

That wouldn't last long. Shy or not, she was hungry. Really hungry. And this smelled amazing. She started with the broth, sipping at the hot liquid. Her eyes lit up immediately.

"This is fantastic." Golden grabbed her chopsticks immediately, feeling herself salivating from the small taste she'd had. "You made this?!" She met his gaze, shyness gone at having tasted his delicious cooking.

Kabu laughed gently. "Yes, I did. I'm often making large batches of it. It's hearty, and easy for me to make."

"It's amazing." And just like that, Golden felt awake again, shoveling food into her face with enthusiasm.

"I'm glad you think so." Kabu replied with another laugh. He watched her eat for a moment, barely touching his own food. "I..." Kabu cleared his throat again. "I've seen you wear more or less that exact outfit, on video chat, so many times...but seeing you like that in person nearly gave me a heart attack." He admitted, blushing a bit.

Golden looked up in surprise at his words, a few noodles hanging out of her mouth. Blushing, she quickly slurped them up.

"I-in a good way or...no, heart attacks aren't good-" Golden found her travel-exhausted brain was ill equipped to handle his compliment at the moment.

"In a good way, Golden. You're very cute..." Kabu murmured, before finally picking up his own chopsticks and putting food in his mouth so he could avoid saying more.

"O-oh!" Golden blushed again. "Thank you..." She mumbled back, also opting to take the route of putting a large piece of meat in her mouth to avoid speaking. It was quiet for a bit, aside from their sounds of eating. As her stomach filled up, Golden found she was growing sleepy again. This time, it felt far heavier than it had earlier. She jolted upright, narrowly avoiding dunking her face into her bowl.

"I think it's time you got to sleep." Kabu observed, smiling almost smugly.

"You're clearly, right, but..." She pouted, leaving her eyes closed. "I don't wanna. I wanna spend time with you..."

Kabu got to his feet, picking up both of their bowls, which were more or less empty. "How about a compromise." He suggested, as he walked back to the kitchen to rinse them off.

Golden cracked an eye open and looked at him with a brow raised. "Yes?"

"I will get changed and get in bed with you. That way, you can spend time with me until the moment you fall asleep. Deal?" He slid the dishes into the dishwasher, closing it before turning to look at her, expression looking altogether too serious for such a light negotiation.

"Mm...I accept." Golden decided after pretending to debate the issue. That brought a smile to Kabu's face.

"Very good." Coming to stand next to her again, he offered his arm as he had at the airport. She took his arm, getting to her feet with a loud yawn.

"Don't say anything." She mumbled, sticking her tongue out at him.

He raised his brows, but walked her over to his room nonetheless. Once there, he pulled back the covers on his bed, revealing a neatly folded set of red flannel pajamas, which he picked up.

"I'll be right back. Don't fall asleep while I'm gone." Kabu teased, enjoying the way she flushed and stammered at the remark.

"Hurry up then, geez!" She crossed her arms as he disappeared into the bathroom to change.

Before long, Golden found herself in bed snuggled up against Kabu. She had insisted on leaving the light on (she knew she'd pass out immediately if left in the dark for more than 5 seconds). Kabu was sitting up with his back against the headboard, and Golden was resting her head on his chest, her arm draped across him. Kabu's arm was wrapped around her shoulder. She was comfortable, despite how shy she felt. There hadn't been much time to be physically affectionate before she'd left. It had all felt so fast. But now, she was here, listening to his heartbeat in his chest...

Well, not for much longer. She could no longer keep her eyes open, and she was only barely aware of Kabu's thumb rubbing gently against her shoulder. But it was a losing battle. Despite the early hour in Galar, a mere 7 pm, she fell into a deep sleep not long after getting into bed.

Kabu smiled down at her as she finally gave in to sleep, her breathing shifting. He hesitated a moment, before pressing a loving kiss to the top of her head. He would be more than content to lie here reading a book with her nestled against him until he too fell to sleep's sweet embrace.

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

Golden woke up at an ungodly hour. The room was still dark. Kabu was snoring quietly. She tried to go back to sleep - but it was impossible. That was jetlag for you. She checked her watch, squinting as it's digital screen lit up her face. 4 am. Wow. Amazing. Well, she certainly didn't want to wake Kabu...

She looked around the room as her eyes adjusted. Centiskorch was easily visible on Kabu's other side. While it's flames were much reduced as it slept, they still glowed a faint yellow orange. It was curled up against Kabu's back. 

Golden turned her attention to Ninetales, who slept at the foot of the bed. She was startled to see that Ninetales was staring at her. It wasn't an unfriendly stare, but it wasn't exactly friendly either. The Poke'mon was clearly appraising her, with a hint of curiosity in it's eyes. She imagined she had been too tired yesterday to notice this behavior. Ninetales had always appeared standoffish to her, since the moment she'd met Kabu, but it had never seemed to pay her much attention. Perhaps things were different now that she and Kabu were...closer. Now that she was here, invading the cherished space Kabu shared with his beloved teammates. Surely it would be an adjustment for them.

It was an adjustment for her. They were sharing a bed, yet they hadn't even kissed! But there was no way she would have stayed in a guest bedroom...not when they had just precious little time together. She'd been too tired the night before to do much other than be honest about the fact that she wanted to be in his bed with him, when he presented the choice. She may have blushed, but she hadn't had the energy to be flustered. Now she could feel her cheeks burning as she watched his peaceful expression as he slept, his chest rising and falling.

She wondered absent-mindedly how often Kabu brought people back here. Who was the last partner he'd had? Had Ninetales behaved the same way back then? Was she one in a long line of partners? Was it something Ninetales had been through before?

Golden sighed quietly to herself. There was little point in thinking about this. But Ninetales seemed...uncertain, to her. That made it likely that it wasn't a regular occurrence, at least. Slowly, careful not to disturb Kabu, she got out of bed. She could feel Ninetales' eyes following her as she made her way out of the bedroom, leaving the door cracked as she left.

She breathed out a sigh of relief. It was nice to not feel the fox staring her down anymore. That was definitely judgement in Ninetales' gaze. Well, perhaps she'd make a nice cup of tea for herself. If she could find the tea. And the mugs. She didn't think Kabu would mind if she did that. If he did mind, she'd just have to apologize and find a way to make up for it. But, somehow she figured he'd be more bothered that he wasn't awake to make it for her...

With a mug in hand (it had a cute chibified Torchic on it), she waited for water to boil. When did Kabu normally wake up? She furrowed her brow, doing the mental math. By the time he was online he'd already done his morning workout, so that would be...she squeezed her eyes shut. 6 am. Alright. She looked at her watch. It was 4:30 am now. Okay. He'd be up in an hour and a half. That was reasonable.

She poured herself some tea and sat down on the couch. Well, she was sure there was some catching up she could do while she waited. She'd been traveling all day yesterday, after all. Hopefully Kabu wouldn't be too bothered that she'd gotten up without him...

#fic #golden flames #selfship #self ship #self shipping #selfshipping #self insert #nblm selfship #food mention #food tw #it's long but I hope some of you will read it

[thatoneitaliangirl]

Obey Me! Soulmate AU’!~ Leviathan

This one I really like! Its a bit longer than the other two. Also, I’m confirming here and now that I’m definitely making part two’s because this one is far from over! OH! And SPOILERS FOR THE GAME I just got to the part where they explain that Satan was born from Lucifer’s anger, like- wasn’t expecting that! I mean, I remember them mentioning that Satan wasn’t there when they were angles, but I never thought he was born that way. Interesting!~ Also also, I’m not sure if I wrote Satan’s character all that well. He’s next up and I’m a bit nervous about writing for him, but I’ll do my best!! 

Link to Opening Paragraph. 

Leviathan

Having spent most of the day searching for Mammon's soulmate, the seven brothers reluctantly went back to the Devildom to regain strength and think of a more efficient way of searching for the next day. And take showers, because, as Asmodeus had stated previously, the sun was HOT. Nervousness wracked Leviathan's body to the point where he couldn't even work up the nerve to play a video game.

All he could do was lay on his bed and stare at the ceiling, thinking about what his soulmate would be like. Lucifer's was a beautiful, energetic ghost hunter with a tendency to babble, Mammon's was their human exchange student, though there was no surprise there. The two of them were crushing so hard on each other, that the other brothers had almost broken a few times and shoved them in a closet together.

Or maybe that was just Levi? He'd seen it in a couple of anime before and in the end, the two lovers always end up confessing and sharing their first kiss. Was that what meeting his soulmate was gonna be like? Poor Levi barely slept a wink that night. And now, as the other brothers discuss plans for the new day, he still can't think about anything but his soulmate. What is she gonna be like? Will she like anime and manga just like him? Or will she be a boring normie like his brothers?

She is supposed to be his soulmate, so it would really suck if she didn't like Ruri-chan! What if she's never even heard of anime? Then he gets to teach her all about it! "Levi, are you even listening?" Levi jumps, not expecting to hear Lucifer's voice calling out his name. Usually, that means something bad is about to happen . . . "Uh, no, I spaced out." Lucifer sighs.

"As I was saying, Lord Diavolo has made special arrangements for us in the human world. Given his kind and generous nature, he has called in a few favors to help us navigate the human world much faster and through more secretive means. Us getting caught could mean exposure of both the Devildom and Magic and could have devastating effects." "How kind of Lord Diavolo to grant his favorite such luxuries," Satan speaks up as he takes a sip of his beverage.

"Yes. Lord Diavolo's generosity knows no bounds. Now, with that settled, we leave in an hour. I suggest you get your ducks in a row and prepare yourselves. Levi, we find your soulmate next." They leave the breakfast table one by one, all heading to their respective rooms to 'prepare', whatever that means. Levi sure doesn't know what it means.

Does he shower again? Change his clothes? Would he look more presentable in his school uniform or his normal clothes? What if she hates him . . . I mean, he is an otaku. While he takes pride in that, he's not oblivious to the negativity otaku's receive in the human world.

They're generally looked down upon, and though he can take the criticism from his brothers, from the girl that's supposed to love him . . . He doesn't know if he can handle that. Taking his handheld gaming device off its charger, Levi places it into a small bag along with extra games and a manga to read in case he gets bored. Who knows how long their gonna be in the human world this time. Should he take a change of clothes?

Deciding it best, he folds up some clothes and places them into the bag and throws it over his shoulder. He doesn't think that it's been an hour, maybe twenty minutes, but he heads out towards the dining room anyway and places his stuff down. A loud commotion in the kitchen spikes his curiosity, so he follows the noise to find his three brothers, Mammon, Satan, and Beelzebub.

"What's going on?" Satan looks up at Levi with anger in his eyes. Levi has known his brother long enough to not take it personally. The anger is not directed towards him. "What's going on is that the 'help' Lord Diavolo gave Lucifer is a portal key!" Satan sighs at Levi's confused face.

"It's a key that allows us to go anywhere in the human world we want. I've been trying to get my hands on one for years, and now I find out that Lord Diavolo has had one just laying on his desk this whole time?!" He begins to pace, a sure sign that his anger is getting out of control. It's his attempt to try and calm himself before things escalate.

"The worst part is that he didn't even know what it was until that sneaky little butler of his told him to give it to Lucifer!" Mammon, not quite understanding that this was Satan's time to rant, cuts in. "What's so special about it anyway? Sure, it gets us to where we're going, but why do you find it so important?

The only use it could ever have to me is a pretty penny at the pawnshop!" He says, laughing. Satan glares at him. "It's not because it's worth something that I want it. It's because its made with one of the purest forms of magic from the human world! Not even Soloman would be able to comprehend the intricacies it takes to make such an item.

It's the craftsmanship, the number of years a human puts into making the keys, the effort they exert! A fragile human making something so powerful and beautiful? Hardly heard of!" Levi rolls his eyes. "Don't roll your eyes at me! How many times have you gone off on a tangent about some video game and forced all of us to listen?" Levi scoffs.

"That's different!" "Not really . . . " The sixth brother Beelzebub speaks up, crumbs falling from his mouth. "Whatever! It doesn't matter anyway. All that does matter is that we have the key now. The faster we find our . . . Soulmates, the better." Mammon laughs obnoxiously while sitting on the counter.

"Good for you, guys! I think I'm gonna hit up a human world casino! My luck seems to be off the walls, so naturally, I'm gonna bring home some intense bacon!" "Absolutely not." The brother's pale as the stern voice of Lucifer breaks through Mammon's stupid laugh. The second-born grunts. "And why not? I found my human!"

"And so have I, but that doesn't mean I'm going to let you wander around the human world by yourself. And that goes for everybody. You are all going no matter who you find, so I can keep my eyes on you at all times. Understood?" Satan tsks, and crosses his arms, still slightly ticked off about the key. But, they all agree, mostly because Mammon set loose in the human world sounds like the Biblical Apocolypse.

After the seven brothers finish up getting ready, Lucifer gathers them in the dining room. "This key was given to us by Lord Diavolo. It's true that he . . . Didn't actually know what it did . . . But none the less, we should still keep is safe to return it to him when we're done. Any questions?" The brothers shake their heads, Satan still upset but not wanting to cause another argument.

"Good. Levi, I believe it is your turn." Lucifer hands a confused Levi the shiny golden key. With a deep breath, Levi enters the key into the lock on the kitchen door (put there by Lucifer when Beel's sleep-eating was bad a few years ago) and thinks of a place. A lab of some sort . . . With white walls and lots of windows. Leviathan turns the key and opens the door, revealing crispt white walls and blue-tiled floors.

They all enter, skeptical of where exactly the key led them. "What is this place?" Mammon wonders, scrunching his nose. "It smells terrible." "Sorry, sorry! That would be the bleach!" A voice with an English accent speaks from down the hall and startles them.

"_____ and Joshua spilled a whole tub of vinegar in the main hall yesterday and bleach seems to be the only thing that gets rid of the smell." A man wearing a long white coat comes walking out of one of the rooms along the long hallway and extends his hand.

Lucifer shakes it hesitantly. The man pushes up his smart-looking glasses and smiles at the brothers. "My name is Damian, and I run this floor of Greenville Labs. What can I do for you gentleman?" Levi steps forward, slightly nervous. "We're looking for someone . . . I think you just mentioned her." "_____?" Levi nods.

"Ahh, what has she done this time?" Damian shakes his head and gestures for the men the follow him to the room he had just come out of. "Whatever it is, I'll pay for the damages. No need to get the cops involved."

Levi scratches the back fo his neck and laughs nervously. What kind of person is this girl? "Actually, she didn't do anything . . ." "Oh? Well, that's good. You're probably here about her project then?" "No-" "Yes, that's exactly why we're here." Lucifer agrees, placing his hand on Levi's shoulder.

"Good, good! Uh, disregard what I said before then hehe. They are good kids! When they want to be." The sound of a door slamming and heavy footsteps echo in the hall as Damian's eyes widen. "Oh, Be careful, I just washed the- floor . . ." A young boy comes running in and slips, falling on his backside.

"Ha! Dumbass- gah!" A girl walks in, slipping and falling in the same spot. Damian sighs. "I present to you, Dumb and Dumber." A hand reaches up from the floor and slams on the desk, pulling the girl up.

"What does that make you, Damian? Dumbest?" She pulls herself up the rest of the way and straightens out her clothes. "I mean, who washes the floor and DOESN'T put a wet floor sign!" "To be fair, the only reason it HAD to be washed was because of that rediculous stunt you and Joshua pulled!"

"I thought that was hilarious actually," Joshua says, standing up and leaning on _____. This makes Leviathan's blood boil. He can feel it in his bones; this girl is his soulmate. Who does this normie think he is, touching HIS soulmate?!

"Whatever, I've got stuff to do, levels to beat, Joshua to leave crying like a little baby after I kick his ass in Super Smash Bros. Later losers!" _____ pulls Joshua by the hand out of the lab. Lucifer sighs. This ones gonna be a handful.

#obey me! #Obey me! x reader #obey me! soulmate au #obey me! soulmate #obey me! leviathan #obey me! levi #obey me! leviathan x reader #obey me! levi x reader

[crystalgirl259]

The Flame and the Dragon Ch5

Chapter 5: The Kitchen Catastrophe

Bansha remained silent as Morro ranted and raved in the privacy of the carriage. He had lost whatever grip he had on his temper as soon as the carriage started taking them back home. Morro looked ready to kill somebody, most likely Lloyd.

"That insolent little brat! How dare he insult me!"

"Lloyd or Kai?" Bansha spoke out of turn, something she instantly regretted when Morro's scowl turned on her.

"Lloyd, of course! If it wasn't for that little brat or their ugly sister, I'm sure Kai would be mine by now! Doesn't he realize those two are the ones who are holding him back?! I could give him anything and yet he still refused me!" He ranted, clenching his fists in rage. "I mean, how naïve can he be? What must I do to persuade him to pop the question?" He scowled critically. Bansha could only shake her head. Morro was without a doubt a prodigy, but he lacked the most obvious common sense.

Kai was a dreamer, it didn't matter how rich Morro was or what society deemed appropriate.

He wouldn't chase Morro like everyone else. No, he was chasing the foolish dream of finding true love. A frivolous illusion of course, but nevertheless Kai believed it. Bansha had no doubt Morro would never have his 'precious darling' unless he convinced him to love him. Something she knew would never happen. She knew Morro well enough. The duke always got what he wanted.

"Why are you so obsessed with him?" Bansha spoke aloud and Morro's attention turned to her. Bansha hadn't meant to speak out loud but Morro could tell she was only curious. "I mean, you could have anyone you wanted, yes, Kai's beautiful, but personality-wise, he's the complete opposite of the man you want; why do you keep chasing him when you could have people so much more charming, obedient, and wealthy! You're the Duke! You're wealthy, well-educated, people throw themselves at your feet every day! You could replace Kai in an instant! Why do you waste your time with him when you could have anyone else?"

Morro chuckled darkly, a crackling sound that would make even the bravest of hearts shiver in fear.

"You've just answered your own question, Bansha." He smirked. Everything she said was true of course. Kai's appearance was in every inch the way a fairy tale prince was supposed to look, but it was his personality that needed work. Kai was perfect, but he was too brazen, too wild. He needed to be tamed, and he was the only one to do that. After all, as a Duke, he needed not only the perfect partner but also someone who would never challenge his authority.

In business or in bed.

"Because I can have anyone else."...

****************

The enormous landscape surrounding the Smith home was a sight to behold. A wide golden field and stables with a large pond in the corner bordered on two sides by woods and a house large enough for a large family flew by, unnoticed by its two youngest occupants as both Kai and Lloyd bolted across the yard and up the stairs to their house. Both ran surprisingly fast for all the bags they were carrying. Then again, it was Nya who was in the kitchen.

That alone was cause for alarm.

Both practically broke the door down, causing more smoke to erupt from the house. Lloyd batted the inky wisps away and coughed harshly before Kai found him something to cover his mouth with.

"NYA!" Kai howled, furiously, before stomping towards the kitchen, with Lloyd behind him. "GOD HELP YOU IF YOU'RE IN THE FUCKING KITCHEN!" He warned as both brothers dropped the books and groceries on the dining room table and stormed inside. The kitchen was still intact, but the smoke was everywhere, pouring out the open windows now that it had an escape. Huge spots of soot and ash covered the floor, the counters, and the stove which was wheezing smoke.

The wood from the old-fashioned brick stove had burned itself out leaving only ashes.

The bowl on top of it was covered in ash and looked even more charred than the inside of the hearth. Nya, the younger twin, was on the floor, coughing and wheezing, covered from head to toe in thick soot. Her midnight black hair tied in a ponytail was the only thing dark than the soot as her stunning blue eyes seemed to light up her face. Her tanned skin was revealed through the ripped jeans. When she stood to her full height in an attempt to brush the ashes off her, she stood a few inches shorter than Kai.

She also had a small beauty mark on her right cheek.

Even in her ripped, paint-splattered jeans and the light blue shirt she wore when she painted or invented and hiking boots caked in oil, paint, and covered in soot, Nya looked ravishing.

"Nya," Kai said dangerously low with a clearly angry smirk on his face as he glared down at Nya on the floor. "When Dad said you were never allowed in the kitchen again, what made you think he was joking?"

"You two were late." She replied, crossing her arms and trying to look as casual as possible.

"We're always late! That doesn't mean you have the right to try and burn down the kitchen! AGAIN!" Lloyd scolded. "What did you do this time? Forget to take the plastic off?" He asked and Nya's eyes widened guiltily, assuring them both that was exactly what she did. Despite being an excellent painter and even better inventor, Nya wasn't so good in the kitchen. That's why cooking the family meals was Kai's job. The eldest Smith sighed and smacked his forehead.

"Nya, you can't cook to save your life!"

"Doesn't mean I can't try!" She smirked, rubbing the soot off her cheeks. "At least I didn't burn anything." She mumbled. Both brothers glared at her referring to the black soot covering the kitchen. "You know what I mean." She snorted, ego deflated a bit. "What took you so long anyway?"

"We stopped at the bookstore, and Dr. Saunders found Kai's writing."

"That's it?" Nya raised a cool eyebrow in disbelief. She knew full well that her brothers could live at the library if given the choice but even they always came home on time.

"We ran into Morro on the way back," Kai growled.

"That explains it." She rolled her eyes. "What did he want this time?"

"Same old shit he wants every time," Kai replied, tossing a bag into Nya's lap, which she hesitantly caught in her surprise. "Help us put the food away otherwise no one's eating until breakfast." He ordered. Nya was on his feet in an instant, her stomach winning over her pride.

"You should've seen his face when he thought Lloyd insulted his!" Kai chuckled, making their little brother blush. Nya only blinked in surprise before grinning.

"Well hopefully after next week, you won't have to deal with him anymore."

"You finished your invention!" Both boys asked with hopefulness. Nya smirked and grabbed both their wrists before pulling them out of the kitchen and upstairs, where their bedrooms were located, as well as the room she and their parents used as a workshop. Kai sometimes painted something if he was bored, but he hasn't done it in a while. Nya threw the door open, revealing the wooden floor covered by paint-splattered sheets and blotches of paint-decorated walls.

The wall opposite the door was made entirely of glass, like a giant window allowing air and sunlight inside.

Blank canvases and stacks of papers and scrolls lined the opposite wall while easels with trays of oil paints, watercolors and charcoals cups filled with pencils, pens, and brushes of various, shape, size, texture, and design covered the table by the sink where water cans and jars held paint-caked brushes. In the corner sat her newest invention, while a tray of oil paints in various colors rested on the table next to it. The machine itself took Kai and Lloyd's breath away.

It is a wooden machine containing various types of gadgetry, including an ax.

This machine was intended to be used to chop wood, supposedly making it easier than chopping with an ordinary ax.

"Wow!" Kai gasped.

"It's amazing, big sis!" Lloyd hugged her. "Now I know you're going to win this year!"

"Let's hope so." She beamed as she wrapped her arms around her two brothers and pulling them both close in a hug. "Then maybe we can get out of here."

"Finally!" Kai cheered.

"Now, I'm gonna get changed." She released her siblings before strolling down the hallway to her room. "Unless of course, you want me to help you clean the kitchen and-"

"NO!" They both said with such force she was taken aback. Nya meant it as a joke but it seemed neither Kai nor Lloyd were taking the chance.

"Oh and since Lloyd will probably be too busy cleaning the kitchen you'll just have to suffer pasta with my sauce," Kai warned teasingly, following Lloyd downstairs, smirking when he saw Nya cringe. Kai's sauce was incredibly hot and spicy. It hadn't taken too long to clean the kitchen, since Nya had only caused smoke and soot to cover the house and fortunately hadn't really burned anything. Still, it took at least an hour to clean the kitchen and make dinner.

Those were two things Nya was not allowed to help with since all her elegance and grace with creating and movement seemed to cease the second she entered the kitchen.

Once they finished, the trio spent the rest of the night the way they always did. Closing up shop and enjoying the night until Lloyd finally fell asleep, resulting in Nya carrying him upstairs and putting him to bed. Nya could only smile at the adorable sight.

"What?"

"Nothing." She shrugged her shoulders, still smiling. "Just wondering what you're still doing here?"

"What does that mean?" He asked confused, before turning back to Lloyd's sleeping form.

"I don't mean, here as in with the family, I meant here in general." She explained, sitting down next to her brothers.

"Let's face it, I don't fit in here." He groaned. "I mean, no one here gets me, and I have no one to talk to except you, Lloyd, and the librarian; and if you say Morro I swear to God I'll scream!" He threatened her and Nya burst out laughing.

"I wasn't going to, but remind me again why you don't like him?" She teased and Kai snorted.

"He's not my type."

"Poor Morro, maybe if he'd stayed the same, he might have a chance."

"I doubt it; honestly, I just don't wanna get married, I wanna be in love when I get married, not just settle down for the sake of it, or give myself up for money; I wanna travel and write and make my own happiness before I start looking for someone to share my happiness with." He explained. "Morro doesn't care about me, he just doesn't understand me! I want someone who loves me for me, and who can show me they love me like even without saying the words, I'll know they love me."

"Sounds cheesy," Nya replied with a teasing smile, before placing her hands on his shoulders. "Lloyd's right, you are a hopeful romantic." She giggled. Kai blushed before playfully punching Nya's arm. She just laughed before smiling sadly. "But seriously, Kai, that's a pretty amazing thought." She promised and Kai blinked at Nya's sudden change of tone. They sat in silence for a little while before Kai took a deep breath to settled his nerves.

"Nya? Do you think I'm odd?" He reluctantly asked, scared of the answer. His sister froze and looked at the brunette as if he'd suddenly grown an extra head.

"Is this because of what those idiots in town keep saying?" She asked angrily and Kai looked up to meet her saddened eyes.

"It's not that," He replied looking away. "It's just... I don't know, I obviously don't fit in, but sometimes I wish I did; then maybe I could find someone who actually understands me aside from you and Lloyd." He added and suddenly found himself wrapped in a warm hug by Nya before he was released. Nya's gaze rested on him with a look of firm affection.

"Kai, you're an artist like Mom and me, just with words, that means you see the world in ways other people can't or simply don't understand and it's your gift, to see the beauty and the horror in ordinary things, it doesn't make you odd, or strange, despite what the idiots in this town seem to think, just different, and there's nothing wrong with being different." She explained like it was a fact that needed to be memorized. Kai wasn't sure whether to smile or laugh at his silliness so he did both.

"Thanks, sis."

"Anytime," Nya laughed and got up before kissing Kai's forehead and then Lloyd's before turning to leave the room. "Night, big bro." She smiled and winked. "And remember, Lloyd and I are leaving tomorrow so we gotta get up early."

"I remember." He smiled, before getting up and retiring to his own room for the night...

#The Flame and the Dragon #ninjago #ninjago zane #ninjago cole #ninjago kai #ninjago lloyd #ninjago jay #ninjago nya #lavashipping

[lopsided-whiskey-grin]

Wild Violets and Unicorn Stickers

This is my contribution to the RBB put on by @android-whump-big-bang! This was the first Big Bang I have ever participated in and it was really fun to craft a story around a beautiful piece of artwork! I hope you enjoy reading Ralph’s story as much as I enjoyed writing it <3

WR600, register your name. 

I see a man standing before me. And beside him are a woman and a young girl. A family. They are all smiling and it makes me smile. “Ralph,” the man says.

“My name is Ralph,” I reply. It’s a good name and I think it suits me.

The family brings me to their home. It is a beautiful farmhouse. Situated on a large plot of land down a long dirt road, it is much larger than the others we drove past when we left the city. Here there is a sprawling green lawn surrounding the house, with lush flowerbeds blooming in a riot of different colors bordering the wrap-around porch. I also glimpse a greenhouse as we pull around to where the garage is located in the back. I have a job to do here and I know exactly how to do it. I am eager to start.

The father of the family, who introduced himself as Garrett, gives me a tour of the property while his wife Olivia takes their daughter Gracie inside the house for lunch. Garrett instructs me on how he prefers the lawn to be maintained and how short to prune the hedges. Then he shows me where the various gardening tools and lawn mower are stored in a shed beside the garage; I carefully catalog everything on my hard drive, making quick notes as we go to check the pH level of the soil and the area’s water table.

Before he is done with our tour, Garrett shows me the greenhouse. To say that I am impressed would be a vast understatement. Late afternoon sunlight streams through the glass walls and roof, saturating the lush greenery surrounding me in a golden glow. There's rows of ripening vegetables running down the middle - tomatoes, squash, zucchini and others - and lining the sides are various herbs, a handful of flowering orchids and roses, some pastel-toned succulents, and fragrant lavender.

I glance at Garrett and smile. "It's beautiful."

Garrett beams with pride. "Thank you," he says. "I inherited this place nine months ago from my grandfather. He used to grow corn out here but his land got sold off little by little until just the farmhouse and the greenhouse were left. I remember spending the summers here as a kid. It was in pretty bad shape when we moved in, but I've been putting a lot of work into fixing it up as best I can. This greenhouse is kind of my way of keeping my grandfather's memory alive."

"Your hard work definitely shows. I'm happy to help you maintain it."

Garrett nods warmly. "I'm not normally one to ask for help and I never pictured myself owning an android, but the upkeep on it all is getting to be a little much and I wanted to be able to spend more time with my family. I'm glad to have you here."

“I’m ready to begin whenever you are,” I say with a nod of my own.

My first week at the farmhouse goes fast. I perform my duties efficiently and with care. Garrett lends a hand occasionally but for the most part he leaves me to my work. Olivia and Gracie are very nice to me and we talk sometimes when I come inside to wash my hands in the kitchen at day's end. Gracie especially loves telling me about what new things she learned at school. It feels nice to be included.

Another week passes much the same as the first. I am more observant, though, of how this little family unit operates. It's fascinating to see the intricacies of their interactions when I catch glimpses of them together during my daily duties. I see Garrett push Gracie on the tire swing in the backyard one morning before the school bus comes, then one evening at dusk I see Olivia braiding Gracie's hair on the front porch while Garrett sweeps the steps. And on one hot afternoon, I see Olivia bring Garrett a glass of lemonade and give him a kiss on his cheek while he is helping me pull weeds. I am captivated. But I find my favorite thing to see is the three of them having dinner together. I don't sit and stare but sometimes in the evening when I'm putting the hose or lawnmower away and the summer sun is sinking low and the gloaming fades into night I can see them through the back window that looks into the dining room. They sit at the table together and it looks so pure and real the way they smile and talk and laugh. It makes me want to be a part of what they have in an intense and confusing way that makes my chest ache.

As the days go on, I know very well what this family means to each other. They care for one another. They love one another. I wonder if it is something I will ever truly experience or even understand. I desperately want to.

By the time a month rolls around, though, I notice that they begin to pull me in, little by little, and it surprises me. Now, when I go into the kitchen to wash my hands at the end of the day, Gracie almost always asks me to sit at the table and color with her while Olivia prepares dinner. And Garrett once let me help cook burgers on the grill for a backyard barbecue and he did not get mad at me when I accidentally burned two of them. Garrett has even made me a small room in the garage with a bed and a nightstand even though I technically don’t have to sleep. They treat me as more than an android and it’s a strange revelation to process. I feel like I am becoming a part of their family. And I never want to be apart from them.

Summer slowly surrenders to the start of autumn in a gradual shift from sweltering days to rainy ones and from vibrant greens to striking reds and yellows. Gracie tells me it is her favorite season. The fall harvest soon comes and everyone decides to pitch in to help gather the ripened pumpkins, zucchini, squash, turnips, and carrots. It is an overcast day that threatens showers later in the afternoon so Garrett says he wants to get an early start. I meet the family in the greenhouse just after they eat breakfast. They are dressed in vests and boots and matching flannel shirts and my chest gets tight and I don’t know why.

With so much help we get the job done pretty quickly. Olivia is happy with the amount of zucchini we grew and is excited to make enough zucchini bread to give to all the neighbors. Gracie, wiping the dirt from her hands on her jeans, sticks out her tongue at the mention of it and Garrett shakes his head and laughs. But then Gracie grins wide when Olivia says she'll make a special batch of pumpkin bread just for her. They all look so happy in this moment and I want to remember it forever.

After loading up our harvest into wooden crates, the family heads inside to clean up and warm themselves with some hot cocoa. Since we got done earlier than I expected I have time to trim the hedges out front before the rain starts. I grab the shears and make my way to the front yard.  When I am almost finished with my task it starts sprinkling a little. The sky is darkening the late afternoon sky with the impending storm. I go a little faster, not minding being rained on but not wanting Garrett’s gardening tool to become rusted in the drizzling weather.

Soon my hair becomes so wet with rain I have to flick the dripping strands out of my eyes so I can see what I am doing. I am nearly done, but just as I am reaching to prune the last few branches away, a bright flash of light instantly followed by a loud crack of thunder booms above me.

The utter unexpectedness of it startles me and I flinch. The hand holding the shears jerks toward my outstretched arm and before I can react the sharp blades slice my forearm. It’s not a long gash but it looks like a deep one. I'm so stunned I am not even able to process what precise bio-components are compromised. I stare in shock as blue blood wells from the wound almost immediately. It tracks down my arm in thick rivulets mixing with the rain that is now coming down steadily.

The sound of the front door opening draws me from the injury in a dazed sort of way. I look up slowly to see Garrett suddenly standing there.

“You okay, Ralph? That lightning was pretty close.” Concern knits his brows together when his gaze drops to my arm. “Holy shit.”

Tears form at the corners of my eyes, catching me off guard. “I- I’m sorry — ,” I begin but Garrett cuts me off.  

“Come inside.” He rushes down the porch steps to where I’m standing in the rain. The garden shears are still gripped tightly in my hand and Garrett has to tug them from my grasp to get me to let go. He tosses them aside onto the wet grass and it surprises me.

I protest weakly. "The shears…"

"I don't care about those," he says, guiding me gingerly up the stairs to the door. He is genuinely worried about me.

Pain suddenly registers like a hot flash then dims to a dull throb and I cradle my arm to my chest. Androids don't feel pain in the sense that humans do, I know that, but it's still a sharp perception of a malfunction. My body recognizes there is something wrong and the delicate receptors that were severed with the laceration pulse with a warning that hurts. I hold my forearm a little closer and follow Garrett inside the house.

“Olivia, I need some help here,” Garrett calls as we come to the kitchen.

Olivia turns from the counter where she is putting mugs into the dishwasher. When she sees me her eyes go wide and she rushes toward us. “Oh my god, Ralph! What happened? Are you okay?”

“I cut myself. It was an accident.”

Garrett goes to the sink while Olivia stays with me. She reaches her hand up and gently pulls my arm away from my chest. I grimace but allow her to look at it. Her mouth turns down into a pout as she examines the injury. Garrett comes back with a towel and a small first aid kit and they both lead me to sit at the kitchen table.  

The bleeding has mostly stopped and is now only oozing a little. Olivia kneels down and tenderly wipes the residual blue from my skin and I hold as still as possible while she cleans the wound. Garrett stands beside me with his hand on my shoulder, watching as Olivia wraps a long bandage around my arm.  

“How are you feeling? Is that better?” Olivia looks up at me from where she is kneeling on the kitchen tiles.  

I give a weak nod. The pain is thankfully fading somewhat and I can now internally assess the damage with a diagnostic check. “I’ll need some repairs, but I can still bend my fingers and my wrist.” I attempt the move to show them but a sharp twinge limits the mobility.

Garrett gives my shoulder a little squeeze. “Hey there, just take it easy for now, okay? As long as it’s not hurting you, let's worry about the repairs tomorrow. I don’t want you moving it unless it’s absolutely necessary.”

I glance up at him, confused. “But I still have work to do outside…”

Olivia shakes her head and stands. “Not for the rest of the day, you don’t. I’m going to get you some clean clothes to wear while I throw those in the wash.”

Looking down at my Cyberlife issued shirt, I see that there is a mess of blue blood smeared across it. I begin to try to tell her that it will evaporate in a few hours but she won’t have it. She orders me upstairs to the laundry room in a way that is both soft and yet brooking no argument and I do as I am told.

This is a level of the house I have not been to before; I haven’t needed to. I can’t help but stare as I walk down the hallway at this little slice of domesticity. Bedrooms, a bathroom, an office, family pictures on the wall. I take it all in.

Olivia stops at the small hallway accordion doors that hide the washer and dryer and she opens them up. She helps me shimmy out of my shirt, careful not to jostle my arm too much. Then she flips the shirt this way and that, looking for a tag with washing instructions. Upon not finding any, she shrugs and tosses it into the washer and starts the cycle.

“I think Garrett might have a sweater in here that will fit you,” she says and digs through a hamper with big block letters saying ‘clean’ across it beside the dryer. Finding one, she raises it up, victorious. “Ha!” It’s a grey hoodie with an outline of a shark on it. We both grin.

Olivia helps me into the sweater. It’s a little big on me but it is very soft and comfortable and it smells like a field of wildflowers from the detergent she uses. The terrifying memory of my injury is fading further and further to the background with each passing minute with the care of this family.

We start back down the hallway. Gracie suddenly appears from one of the doorways, rubbing her eyes, her hair a sleep-mussed tangle. “Mommy?”

Olivia bends down to smooth down her hair and peck a kiss to her cheek. “Did you have a good nap?” She glances back at me over her shoulder with a smile. “This kid could sleep through anything, I swear.”

“What happened?” Gracie asks.

“There was some thunder and lightning. You didn’t hear it?”

Gracie shakes her head then looks at me. “Hi, Ralph.” Her eyes drop to my arm. I didn’t realize I had been cradling it to my chest again -- A subconscious instinct to keep it immobile, I suppose. “Did you get hurt?”

“Yes, but it's starting to feel better now,” I reply.

Olivia straightens back up. “We’re going to get him all fixed up tomorrow. Until then we’re going to take care of him, okay?”

Gracie’s small, worried face brightens up. “I’m going to get my stickers and coloring books! That always makes me feel better when I get sick!” And with that she dashes off back into her bedroom.

Olivia chuckles and we head downstairs. In the living room, Garrett has started the fireplace going with a warm, inviting blaze. He puts a hockey game on the TV and welcomes me to sit on the couch, so I do. Olivia sits beside him with a bowl of popcorn and a blanket emblazoned with the Crimson Shark logo. Gracie soon comes bounding downstairs, her arms full of coloring books, her markers, and box of beads. She sits on the floor next to me and sets up her impromptu art station at the coffee table.

The rain has really started up now, accompanied by occasional gusts of wind that batter the side of the house. But in the cozy room with the roar of the fire, Garrett and Olivia cheering for their favorite hockey team, and Gracie busy digging through her beads, it fades to the background. I find I’m smiling and can’t seem to stop. I catalog this moment on my memory drive so that I hopefully never lose it.

Suddenly, Gracie turns toward me with a sheet of sparkly unicorn stickers. She has a very serious expression on her face. “Can I put some of these where you were hurt? It will help you feel better, I promise.”  

“Yes, please.” I pull up the sleeve on my sweater to look at the gauze on my arm. There’s only a little blue that has soaked through and the pain is almost nonexistent now. I still can’t move my fingers very much though.

Soon my bandage is covered in a smattering of unicorns that catch the light from the fire in a mesmerizing way. Gracie then grabs a green marker for her finishing touches. I watch as she writes get well soon down one side and draws scrolling vines and flowers on the other. I am filled with such a sense of belonging I can barely function.  

During one of the intermissions in the hockey game, Garrett gets up to make more popcorn. He asks me how I’m doing.

I glance down at my colorfully decorated arm and smile. “Much better,” I say, my voice cracking.

As the stormy late afternoon gives way to a cool autumn evening, the hockey game ends, and the fire begins to die down, Garrett and Olivia go to the kitchen to start dinner. I stand up from the couch, ready to head back to my room in the garage.

Gracie tugs at my sweater and I stop. “I made this for you.” She holds up a bracelet made from her rainbow pony beads. Some of the beads have letters. It spells out best friends.

“For me?” No one has ever made anything like this for me before.

“Yup! And I have one too!” She shows me how the two bracelets match then puts the one she made me on my wrist and the other on her own. She is very proud of her craftsmanship.  

“I’ll keep it with me always” I promise her.

Pleased, she skips to the kitchen. I follow, making my way to the back door next to the dining room that leads to the yard. Olivia sees me about to head out and tells me to hold on just a moment because my shirt is just getting done from the dryer. She gets it from the laundry room and presents it, newly cleaned and neatly folded.

“We can get you changed back into your uniform tomorrow before we send for your repair parts,” she says. “You can keep the sweater for now.”

Garrett looks over from the stove where he is stirring something in a pot and says, “I’ll call Cyberlife first thing in the morning and you’ll be good as new. Don’t worry about any chores until you’re all fixed up though, okay? I don’t want you hurting yourself anymore.” He smiles warmly and I nod and return the smile.

After saying goodnight to everyone, I walk out of the house to the cool backyard. The storm has passed and the moon shines down on me in a soft silver glow from the now cloudless sky. I look at my bracelet in the muted light and turn it round and round my wrist. I have never had a best friend before, much less a family, and now truly feel I have both.

Sitting on my bed in my little room in the garage, I stare at my bracelet and my bandaged arm, thinking about the events of the day with a fondness I have never known. I hope tomorrow brings more of the same.

The morning dawns grey and dreary with not even enough sun poking through the clouds to brighten the fiery autumn colors of the falling leaves. I do as Garrett told me the night before and I do not do any gardening. Besides, with the damage, my arm is still not functional enough to move it much. I am able to shimmy out of the hoodie Olivia gave me and slide into my uniform shirt, though. It is quite the task, but I manage.

I fold the sweater and start bringing it to the house when I see a Cyberlife van pulling up in the driveway. I know it's because Garrett called them so they can repair me, but the sight of it makes me feel uneasy in a way I can't explain.

I continue toward the house, my stride a little slower than when I left the garage. Before I get to the backdoor Garrett is coming out to meet me.

“Ralph, Cyberlife is here. They’re going to get you all back in working order. Let’s head over to the van, okay?”

I nod and hand him the sweater then head around the side of the house to where the van is parked. Garrett follows along beside me. The door on the side opens when we stop next to it. A man steps out wearing an official Cyberlife uniform and a baseball cap. Inside the van I can see various tools and supplies on a workbench as well as a few monitor screens.

“Hi, I’m Ben. Mr. Baker?”

“Yup, that’s me,” Garrett replies. The two shake hands.

“And this is your WR600 unit?” Ben turns his attention to me.

Garrett and I both nod. “I’m Ralph.” I find I’m fidgeting with the beaded bracelet on my wrist and I force my arms down to my sides.

“Let’s take a look at the damaged component and I’ll see what I can do.” Ben’s voice is warm and reassuring.

I present my arm with the bandage and sparkly unicorn stickers. Ben looks a little surprised and chuckles. “Can I take this off?”

I hesitate for a moment, but then give him the go ahead and he unwraps the bandage carefully. He examines the wound with a gentle touch then scans it with some kind of hand-held device. After looking at the readout on the device’s screen he glances up and scratches his chin. He looks perplexed. He rummages around in the van for a minute then turns back around.

“I’m not sure I have the parts on hand to repair him here.”

“Well, what does that mean?” Garrett asks. I’m fidgeting with the bracelet again.

“I’ll have to take him into town to the central warehouse hub we have there.” Ben shrugs. “It looks like he’ll need a full below-the-elbow swap.”

“Garrett, I am so sorry. This is all my fault.”

“It’s going to be okay, Ralph. It was just an accident.” He pats my shoulder. “How long do you think he’ll be gone, Ben?”

“Shouldn’t take more than a day or two, depending on how many others are scheduled for repairs ahead of him.”

Garrett and Ben finalize the necessary paperwork. I stand awkwardly, not sure how to feel about what is happening. This has been my first and only home for the past six months. I have found a family here. And although I know I’ll only be gone a couple days, like Ben says, I am nervous about leaving.

“I’ll go get Gracie. I know she’ll want to say goodbye.” Garrett trots off to the house and I watch him go, glad that at least I’ll be able to do that.

Ben closes up his van then hops in the front seat. Just a few short seconds later, Gracie and Olivia come out to see me. Gracie runs right up to me and hugs me around my waist, knocking me back a step. My chest does that thing again where it aches in the middle.

“Ralph, you’re leaving?”

I hug her back, tentatively, not sure if I’m doing it right. “Only for a few days. I’ll be back soon,” I say, and I hope it’s the truth.

Gracie sighs and steps back. She lifts up her arm and shakes her bracelet. I smile and shake mine. Olivia puts her hand on Gracie’s back. “We’ll see him again in no time.”

And with that, I get in the van and head to the city with Ben. The already dreary day darkens even more the closer we get and I can’t tell if it’s my mood or if it’s because another storm is brewing.

Ben pulls the van into the central warehouse hub he had mentioned earlier. It’s surrounded by a forest of skyscrapers, some so tall the tops are hidden by slate colored clouds. Inside, I am directed to a big room full of various other androids. Some are milling around aimlessly, others are sitting in chairs, and still others are sitting on the floor. Most of them look like they are in a lot worse shape than me and my heart sinks. I hope that the minimal severity of my injury will not put me at the end of the list; I don’t want to be here any longer than necessary. I want to go home.

I sit in an empty chair in a corner away from everyone and look at my bracelet. After a while I realize I have lost track of time. How long have I been here? My internal clock registers that it has been twelve hours and nine minutes since I left the farmhouse. I am beginning to lose hope that I will be going back in only a day or two.

Another hour later, someone finally calls my name and I walk to a door at the front of the room. A woman is standing there with a holo-board and I instinctively slip my bracelet from my wrist and tuck it away into my pocket. I don’t want anything happening to it. After registering my name and serial number the woman leads me back to another holding area. This one is larger, with cots and chairs and more injured androids wandering around.

“How much longer do you think it will be?” I ask the woman. She shrugs, clearly not caring one way or another. My shoulders droop and I go to find a place to sit.

Time drags on and after being here for two days I move to an empty cot at the back of the room and lay on my side. What is taking so long? I miss Gracie and Olivia and Garrett so much it hurts. I wonder if they miss me. I wonder if they are worried about me. I curl up and look at my bracelet for probably the hundredth time since I've been here.  

A week passes. My name is finally called. I sit up in a daze, slipping Gracie’s best friends token back into my pocket, and shuffle to the door. I am led to a workshop area then seated on a medical type chair that is reclined next to a workbench. There is an armrest extended out to the side of the chair. Soon after, an MC500 model android wearing a black apron comes and sits on a rolling chair beside me.

“Please present the defective limb.”

I do as I am asked and set my arm down on the table under a work light. “Will I be able to go home after this?”

The MC500 does not answer me. Instead he says, “I am going to place you on standby mode while I replace this part for a new one.”

And with that my world goes dark.

When I wake up, the first thing I notice is my arm — brand new and fully functional. I move my fingers and wrist and have full range of motion again. I cannot wait to get back into the greenhouse to pull up the last of the season’s harvest.

But then I look up and remember I am not at home. A welling of sadness fills me as I see my surroundings. I am in a different room than all the ones before; it appears to be a sort of recovery room. There aren’t many other androids here with me, but there is an open door that leads to a small office. A man is sitting at the desk, typing away on a computer.

I quickly get up, walk to him, and stand in the doorway. He glances up at me briefly before going back to his work.

“It appears I am repaired,” I say with a timid smile. “I am ready to go back to work now at the Baker’s farmhouse.”

The man looks at me again and sighs. “Serial number?”

I tell him.

“Says here you’re to report to the Lafayette Central Park management building.”

I frown. “No, that’s not right. I belong with Garrett and Olivia Baker.” I am beginning to panic.

The man shakes his head. “The info is right here, buddy. Lafayette. There’s been a rash of gardening droids going missing all around town so they probably reassigned you.”

“No, that is not right! ” I raise my voice. It’s the first time I have done that. A software instability warning flashes across my CPU, but I ignore it. “I belong to a family, not the city parks department!”

The man is taken aback then he narrows his eyes and leans toward me. “I don’t get paid enough to deal with this bullshit. It says right here, okay? I don’t make the rules, I just read out what gets sent to me. All I know is, if you aren’t on the transport that takes you to your assignment in one hour, you’ll be decommissioned.”

Dread, heavy and awful, settles deep in my stomach. “W-what?” The word barely squeaks past my lips.

The man points to a closed entryway at the opposite side of the room that says ‘loading dock’ on it. “The transport is through that door. If you aren’t on it within the hour, you’ll wish you were.”

“But what about my family?”

“They’ll probably get reimbursed by the city or something. I don’t know, pal. Sorry.” He sits back in his chair and closes the door in my face.

My hand immediately goes into my pocket and I squeeze my bracelet almost as hard as I can. I don’t know what else to do. I don’t know how to fix this situation. I’m lost, alone, and terrified.

Turning away from the door, I face the loading dock entry. If I get on the transport will my family come looking for me? How will they even know where to find me? What if I make a run for it? Could I make it back to the safety of my home? If I am caught I know I will be shut down permanently — That terrifying thought alone forces my feet to start trudging toward my fate.

I am halfway across the room. Then three-quarters. Then I stop. I know if I go through those doors everything will change.

But maybe it already has.

I look down at my arm. An unbearable wave of sadness pummels me. This happened because of me. This was all my fault. Will Gracie ever forgive me? I told her I would be back soon. Tears start tracking down my cheeks before I can blink them back. I scrub them away with the heels of my hands.

With no other choice, I go through the loading dock doors and get on my assigned transport.

I have been in Lafayette Central Park for two weeks now and I have been miserable every single second. The management building is more of a small groundskeeper hut where they store the lawn maintenance tools and it is where I am told to stay after hours when the park closes. It’s not even close to the cozy room Garrett built for me in the garage.

The first few days here I cried every night. But when it really hit me that I would most likely not be going back home, my heartache was overtaken by anger. I should not be here. There is no joy or sense of belonging for me here. I rake leaves, I empty the park trash, and no one ever talks to me or asks me how I am. I don’t get to watch things grow or harvest the fruit of my labor with the people I love.

I have tried leaving a handful of times but I don’t get very far. My fear of being caught and shut down stops me in my tracks before I hardly get a block away from the park. And I wouldn’t even know how to get back to the farmhouse if I had the courage to commit to an escape plan. With each failed attempt I become more sullen and withdrawn. I miss my family.

One night I am sitting on the concrete floor in the management building with my back leaned up against the wall and my knees drawn to my chest. I am staring at my bracelet, spinning it slowly through my fingers like a rosary. I pull it out less and less these days. I know if I was braver I could have gone back home by now. But at the same time I wonder why haven’t they come looking for me?

Before I can wallow much more in my own self-pity I hear a noise outside. There have been racoons getting into the trash cans lately, but it didn’t quite sound like that. I stand quickly, tucking my bracelet into my pocket, and peer out a small window in the door. A shadow moves past too fast for me to make out. A moment later it is followed by two more. The glow from a near-by street light illuminates the corner of one of the shadows just for a second, but I can see now what it is. Teenagers wearing dark clothes, carrying what looks like spray paint. This is probably the same group that has been vandalizing the park since I got here. I have had to clean up their messes, repair the benches they have set on fire, and scrub off the tags they have left behind more times than I want to count. And now I’ll finally catch them in the act.

Grabbing a heavy-duty flashlight from a shelf, I stomp out the door in the direction the shadows went. My patience has worn down while my software stability has risen. I have had enough.

With the amount of noise they make, it is easy to find them, even in dark pre-dawn hours. There are three teenage boys huddled around a trash can near the playground, laughing maliciously. I click my flashlight on, thinking it will just frighten them away and I can chase them off.

“This park is closed! It's after hours!” I shout, trying to sound imposing.

The boys turn around and I see right away that they are bigger and older than I first thought. A bright flare of alarm pulses through me. One is grasping a handheld electric blow torch and grinning menacingly. There is no doubt they were about to light the trashcan on fire… but now their attention is solely on me.

They stare at me in the pale beam of my flashlight, waiting to pounce on the slightest misstep. I can’t back down now. I take one shaky step forward. “You are trespassing. I am ordering you to leave now.”

“We’re not going anywhere, gearbox.” A voice comes up behind me, startling me so badly I almost drop my flashlight. Spinning on my heel, I try to face the person the voice belongs to, but my feet are suddenly kicked out from under me.

I land flat on my back and my flashlight flies from my hand. The group descends on me instantly like a pack of wolves. Two pin my arms down to the ground and another restrains my legs. I struggle as hard as I can, but my terror makes me clumsy; it’s like I’m treading water.

“Let me go!" I shout. I get a kick in the side in response. A sharp ache blooms across my chest. “Please, don’t! I’ll leave, I promise. Please, just let me go!” I continue to thrash about, but it’s no use. They only hold me tighter.

One of the kids kneels down and straddles my chest. The others chuckle. The weight of him pressing me into the hard concrete path fills me with a dread I’ve never known. He stares down at me, face vicious and sinister. He holds a hand out and one of the kids slaps the blow torch onto his palm. The grin this produces is staggering in its cruelty.

“Please,” I whimper. “I just want to go home.” Tears are beginning to blur my vision.

The kid grabs me by the chin, hard. “I’d like to go home, too, you fuckin’ skinjob, but guess what? I can’t because my dad lost his job and our house because of freaks like you!”

I try shaking my head but he’s holding my chin so tightly it hurts. I am almost nearly paralyzed with fear. “I’m sorry,” I cry. “I didn’t —”

He pulls my head up a little then cracks it back down to the ground. Pain sears through my skull. “ And then I’m just trying to have a little fun with my friends on a nice October night and you come along and ruin it! Isn’t that right, guys?”

The kids jeer their agreement loudly. Panic is settling deep inside me. Software instability alarms are flashing insistently in time to the pain pulsing at the back of my head and side. I shouldn’t be here. I should be home with Gracie and Olivia and Garrett. I should be with my family.

“Someone! Someone, please help!” I shriek. But I know it’s useless. No one is here to rescue me. I am utterly alone.

“Shut up!” The kid lets go of my chin long enough to lay down a ringing slap across the side of my face. I can feel a warm gush of blue blood track down my mouth from my nose. Momentarily stunned, I think about when I cut my arm during the storm and it seems like a lifetime ago. Garret and Olivia took me in, bandaged me up, soothed my hurt away. Gracie made me a bracelet. Best friends.

“Gracie,” I whimper.

“I said shut up, gearbox.” There is a small click as the blowtorch is primed.

My face is again grabbed roughly then jerked to the side. And the next sensation I feel reduces my world down to the exquisite agony of a flame scorching my skin. The fire gouges deep fissures to my cheek and brow. All I can do is scream. Hundreds of system malfunctions blast inside my head and my software instability reaches critical mass.

I struggle again under the weight of the bodies holding me down, fighting for my life. That earns me a bash upside the jaw and another to the temple with the heavy butt of the torch — at least there is reprieve from the flame. The relief is short-lived though, because the fire starts up again almost immediately.

Pain is coursing through every part of me and I know, with a sudden and vivid clarity, that if I do not escape right now I am not going to survive this night. Through the haze of my pain and fear, I see a red wall blocking my way to freedom. I put my hands up to it and I smash it as hard I can over and over. It gives a way a little each time my fists collide with it. Tearing down this wall is one of the hardest and most vital things I have ever done. But it comes with a price, because once I do this I know I will never be the same again.

With one more violent shove, the red wall finally gives way.

Deviant.

The raw liberation Ralph is met with is dazzling and gives him the last bit of strength he needs to get away from the people who are hurting him. With a desperate roar, Ralph pulls his arms from the two bad men at his sides and punches the face of the bad man on top of him. In just a matter of seconds Ralph is rolling onto his knees then getting up, then running. Ralph needs to run as fast and as far away from the people hurting him as he can.

Ralph can hear shouting behind him, angry shouting, but he does not stop, no. Tears are streaming down his face along with his own blood and he cannot see out of one eye, but still he does not stop. Pain throbs through him everywhere but he keeps going. rA9. He needs to find somewhere safe.

A few blocks from the park the shouts behind him start to fade away. He still runs. A group of people walking down the sidewalk suddenly appear in front of Ralph. He skids to a stop then cuts to an alleyway at his right. He can’t trust anyone. They might want to hurt Ralph, too.

Dirty rain puddles soak Ralph’s shoes as he trudges quickly through the alley. Hanging from some broken scaffolding, Ralph sees a big black tarp. He wraps it around his shoulders — it will help him blend in, make Ralph harder to notice.

Safe, Ralph needs to find somewhere safe, somewhere to hide. rA9. After turning at the end of the narrow alley Ralph sees it. A boarded-up house with a fence around it. There are no lights on and no people to be seen. It’s a safe place for Ralph.

He runs across the street, keeping an eye out for anyone that might grab him. Ralph is scared, so scared, but he looks at the fence around the building and finally finds a place to squeeze in. It’s a tight fit, but Ralph pushes through. His forward momentum, though, knocks off his balance and he lands on his hands and knees in the mud. Ralph’s tears can no longer be held back to a few stray drops. It’s like a dam bursting. Ralph weeps openly, hurt and sad and afraid. He knows he misses someone but he can’t exactly remember who; there’s an empty longing ache in his chest he can’t explain and he weeps for that too. Ralph doesn’t want to be alone like this.

Eventually Ralph stands up and stumbles toward the ramshackle house. The door is unlocked and that makes Ralph wary. But he has nowhere else to go and the sun will be up soon. Ralph walks inside cautiously. He stops just over the threshold, listening carefully. There is no sound to be heard except a few creaks and groans from the house itself — it’s empty.

The first thing Ralph does is find a safe room in the house to hole up in, at least until it is light outside. rA9 rA9. After quickly scanning the first level, he decides he’d better check upstairs. There is a room on the left just at the top of the stairs that has a small closet. Ralph has found the perfect spot and looks no further. He climbs in and squeezes down as small as he can, closing the little door and blocking out the rest of the world. Ralph doesn’t think he’ll leave here, ever. He never wants to see another person for as long as he lives.

In a few hours, morning sunlight begins streaming through the tiny crack between the two closet doors. Ralph looks up slowly. He spent the whole rest of the night trying to keep his mind blank, trying to forget what those nasty men did to him. But it’s hard for Ralph to forget. His side still aches and his face is awash in agony. He can’t forget when his pain is a constant reminder.

Staying in the dark closet is making it too easy for those memories to keep replaying over and over, Ralph decides. Opening the doors slowly, he stops and listens. The house is still empty, much to his relief. He pushes to his feet and lets out a soft moan. His whole body feels stiff and uncoordinated. It is not a pleasant feeling at all.

Absentmindedly, Ralph slips his hand in his pocket as he stands in the nearly empty room, trying to decide what he should do next. There is something in there. He fishes it out and holds it up to see. It’s a bracelet with beads on it. It says best friends . Ralph gets a funny feeling in his chest, but he can’t quite understand why. rA9. He puts the bracelet back in his pocket reverently.  

There is another bedroom on this level of the house as well as a bathroom. Ralph goes into the bathroom and catches a glimpse of his face in the mirror. He almost doesn’t recognize himself. It kind of makes him want to start crying again. He has no one here to help clean him up, to help fix these wounds. Someone had before, Ralph is sure of it. rA9. But now Ralph is alone.

Ralph wets a rag in the sink to at least wash his face of the blood caked down his lips and chin. There is nothing more he can do for the deep gashes carved down the side of his face or for his blinded eye, though. He is broken beyond repair. A bitter anger wells up inside him at the people who did this to him, at the people who hurt him this way for no reason at all. He makes a promise to himself that no one will hurt Ralph, ever again. Readjusting his handmade poncho, Ralph turns away from the mirror rA9 rA9 rA9 r..A…9

The next couple weeks pass by in a blur for Ralph. His fear and mistrust never quite leave him. He finds a little comfort in carving rA9 into the walls in the kitchen. It’s a compulsion he cannot explain, only that it feels good to do it. And so he does. Over and over and over. He is so lonely. He has the barest glimpse of a happier time with a family that loved him. A mother and a father and a best friend. Someone to take care of, someone to take care of him. But it is a fractured memory. One Ralph is certain isn’t even real. Because if it was real then why is he here? Why was he hurt? Why is he going through this all alone? Why?

Ralph rarely ever leaves the house and he has never left the safety of the gate around the property. It is much too dangerous to venture out there where someone might try to hurt Ralph again. But one night, when he is walking by a window that has been partially boarded up, he sees a flash of green outside. He stops and takes a closer look out the window. There in mud is a small little plant standing proud in the light of a moon beam. The sight of it fills Ralph with a joy he hasn’t felt in so long. He rushes to the kitchen to grab a cup and a spoon then cautiously, oh so cautiously, Ralph unlocks the door. He creeps out to the dirt yard, hypervigilant, afraid. But he makes quick yet meticulous work of scooping up the plant, a wild violet that has yet to flower, and bringing it into the house. He is a gardener afterall. It’s in Ralph’s nature to care for such things and it feels like it has been too long since he has done so. The tender shoot, not much more than a weed, comes to live with him in the kitchen and keeps him company from then on.

Sometimes humans try to come into Ralph’s house, even though he has locked every door he can. There have been two or three that have gotten in. Ralph is too afraid of them. He tucks away in a special hiding spot upstairs until they leave. He does not make a sound and keeps a knife he found close to his chest to protect himself if they do find him. Ralph does not like visitors.

One time, though, a visitor comes in and does not leave. It makes Ralph mad, very mad. He can’t control himself. He pictures the people who hurt him in the park. The way they laughed at Ralph, the way they tormented him. Ralph can’t bear it anymore. His fear-driven rage takes over and he attacks the man. The man is so surprised he doesn’t even fight back. It is all over quickly and suddenly there is a dead person on the floor of the upstairs bedroom. rA9 . Ralph cannot believe what he has done. His hands shake as he drags the man into the tub and closes the shower curtain. He can’t put the man outside because then more visitors may come and see what Ralph has done. And then they will surely hurt Ralph again or possibly shut him down. Ralph simply cannot and will not allow this to happen.  

The next visitors Ralph gets are not like the others. They are nice to Ralph and talk to him, even though they scared him very badly at first. Having them in his house is like having a family — a father, a mother, and a little girl. It triggers the shadow of a memory for Ralph and he looks at the bracelet in his pocket a lot while they are there. It’s like a word is right on the tip of his tongue but when he thinks about it too hard it slips away. I made this for you! I have one too! They spend the night and Ralph keeps his promise and does not hurt them. It is so nice not to be lonely or afraid for once.

In the morning, the visitors are still there and Ralph decides he will be a good friend and make the little girl a meal. He even ventures outside during the day to find the perfect food. It is a risky move for him, going out there when the sun is up but he knows his new friend should have something to eat. At last he finds it, a big, juicy, succulent rat near the back of the house. Ralph makes quick work of killing it, then excitedly runs back inside to cook it up.

The little girl seems afraid of Ralph and he does not know why. He is just trying to be nice. The android that is like him but not like him comes downstairs and she seems afraid of Ralph too. He has done nothing wrong! Ralph just wants to have a family like he remembers from before. Ralph had a family before, right? He is still not sure, but it sounds so nice.

They finally agree to sit at the table and that makes Ralph very happy. “The little human is not gonna regret it! Ralph found the best! The biggest one he could find! This is going to be succulent! Succulent !” Ralph can hardly contain his excitement.

He puts the rat in the fire, burns the meat just how he knows humans like. Ralph is not sure how he knows they like it that way but a small inkling of a memory tells him this is right. Burnt burgers on the grill. He throws it down on the table, charred and still smoking.

“Go ahead! Eat!” The little girl just stares at him and the food he has prepared. He has been nothing but nice to them and it is making him angry that they are being so impolite after all the trouble Ralph went through. His temper is flaring again. rA9 . “Eat!” he shouts, banging his fists down. Both of his guests flinch and it makes Ralph feel bad for a moment.

Kara, the android sitting across from Ralph, suddenly speaks up and he looks at her. “I saw that body upstairs. You killed that human, didn’t you?” Ralph can see she is upset.

Panic settles deep inside him. He should have done a better job of hiding what he has done. “No,” he replies. “No, he was like that when Ralph found him.”

She doesn’t believe him of course. “You killed that man, Ralph. There’s no point in lying. You hate humans, but you’re just like them. You’re a murderer!”

Ralph shakes his head, but he can’t deny what he did that day. There are so many emotions bubbling up inside Ralph, he can hardly process everything that is happening to him.

His fingers tremble over the knife in his hand. “Ralph didn’t mean any harm!” Ralph’s voice breaks. He's on the verge of crying again. “It’s just that Ralph can’t control his anger, when his anger comes. Ralph doesn’t know what he’s doing. He becomes stupid, full of hatred. Ralph is sorry. He just wanted to be your friend.” He is always so lonely and scared and sad and he does not want these feelings anymore. Ralph wants to go home, but he still doesn’t know where or what that is.

“Then let us go,” Kara says softly.

Ralph looks down at his hands. He doesn’t want his new family to leave, but he knows they can’t stay. He is about to tell them goodbye, but there is a sudden knock on the door. Everyone at the table jumps. Ralph is afraid, very afraid.

“Who is here?” he whispers.

“I saw police outside earlier," Kara admits, frightened. "Alice and I need to hide. Please, Ralph, help us.”

Ralph surges to his feet, terrified. But his new friends need him, they trust him. And so Ralph helps them the best he can. Ralph crowds them under the stairs and covers them up. He has hidden there a few times himself. rA9. He has just enough time to scurry back to the middle of the room before the door is being opened. Ralph is so stupid for not remembering to lock it after he came back in with the dead animal.

An android detective comes in and questions Ralph. Ralph is very nervous but he does a good job of lying to protect his friends. But then the detective gets too close, much too close, to finding them in their hiding spot. He needs to help them. Ralph jumps on the detective, grabs him as tight as he can. He will not let his friends be hurt the way he was

“Run! Quick, Kara!” Ralph shoves the detective down and gives them just enough time to escape. Ralph feels so proud of himself that for a moment he is not afraid.

It is not long, though, before the rest of the police officers that were with the detective come in and start searching the house. Ralph tries to flee before they find what he did upstairs, but the humans capture him. His terror comes flooding back all at once. It feels like the night in the park all over again.

Ralph is thrown into a transport truck. The police tell him he is being sent to a processing facility, but Ralph does not know what that means.

“Please, promise you will not hurt Ralph!” he shouts as they close the door to the truck. No one gives him an answer.

After finally arriving at the processing facility later that day, Ralph is forced into a big room with a lot of other androids. It brings a memory to the surface of a place he had been to before. Before what, though? When he had been hurt before , but it wasn’t his face. It was something else. Ralph looks down at his arm. There is no wound or scarring there. Ralph thinks he hurt himself accidentally once. He fleetingly remembers unicorn stickers. This only confuses him more.

Ralph hates this processing center. There is nowhere for Ralph to hide here. He feels too vulnerable. He wants to go home. But not even the house he was taken from. His real home, with his real family. Best friends.

The stay at the processing center lasts about a week. Through a window, Ralph can see that it has begun snowing outside. He wonders what has become of the wild violet he replanted in the kitchen. Just the thought of it makes him want to cry, because he knows his plant is alone now just like him.  

The androids at the center are starting to be separated into groups. Ralph is labeled as ‘deviant’ and ‘unstable’ and this makes him afraid. rA9. He does not know what will happen to him now that he has been tagged with these words. It is not something he has to wonder about for long, though. Ralph is shoved onto another transport truck and this time he ends up in a place called the Recall Facility and if anything, Ralph hates this more than the processing center.

It is open air with fences all around and scary guards with guns that could hurt Ralph. After being forced from the transport, Ralph is led into a room with all the other androids he had traveled with. The guards begin to strip everyone down, but Ralph fights back. He doesn’t care about the clothes, but he wants to keep his bracelet. He needs to! It is the only thing tying him to a family he is positive he once had.

Ralph is knocked in the head then punched in the gut for resisting. And for all that they still take his uniform and poncho and force him to his default skin. But Ralph is sneaky and he was able to get his bracelet from his pocket before they discard his clothing. He keeps it tightly concealed in a fist, vowing to himself he will never let it go.

In the pen outside, Ralph mills around with the other androids. He is becoming more and more afraid. It is dark now and snow is falling all around. He can hear shouting and gunfire in the different fenced areas surrounding him. He is not sure he will survive this camp and this uncertainty terrifies him. rA9 rA9. He will almost certainly be killed here, forgotten and alone.

Farmhouse! The sudden thought flashes in Ralph’s mind. He does not know if it is from being hit in the head just now or if it is because he is actually starting to remember his past, but he holds on to this little morsel as tightly as he can. A farmhouse! I used to live where there was a farmhouse! Ralph thinks that maybe, maybe, if he can remember those happier times, those times before he was hurt so badly, that he won’t be so afraid when his time comes up. He tries to focus on what the farmhouse looked like and who lived there, trying desperately to get his brain to give him just a little more to go on.

Ralph is so concentrated on his task that he doesn’t realize someone is talking to him until he feels a hand on his shoulder. Ralph is snapped out of his introspection and it makes him mad. He was so close to getting his lost memories back.

He looks down to see Kara standing before him. He is not sure why he is suddenly so upset to see her here. Ralph thinks it is probably because he went through so much to save her and the little girl and now here she is anyway, captured just like he is.

Kara asks Ralph if he has seen the little girl she was with, but no, no Ralph has not seen her. He only just got here. But she must be here somewhere, if Kara is here. “Obviously the little girl is a prisoner here, just like Ralph. But Ralph doesn’t want to die.” Ralph’s fear is rising again, pushing him nearly out of control like it has before. rA9. He squeezes the bracelet held tight in his hand.

A drone appears above their heads and scares Ralph. He has seen the drone kill androids. Ralph hates this place. He wants to leave. Panic is gripping him, he can’t stop it.

But then Kara helps Ralph. She talks to him and calms him down. Ralph quiets his voice, tries not to be upset. Finally the drone leaves. Kara leaves Ralph too, but he feels a little better knowing she is here, knowing that he at least has a friend in this awful place.

Soon the guards force all the androids into straight lines. They are putting them into boxes that no one comes out of alive. Ralph is frantically trying to remember more about the farmhouse. He had a room in a garage, he thinks. And there was a greenhouse! Ralph takes another step closer to the box. Think, Ralph, think!

Kara’s voice suddenly pops up in Ralph’s head. He looks over at her across the snowy yard where she is also standing in a line. He sees she has found the little girl and this makes Ralph happy, but only for a moment. Because of course they are all being led to the box now, even the little girl. rrrAA9. Ralph knows he does not want to die, but the little girl reminds him of someone he knew (the name is so close in his mind if he could just remember) and he does not want her to die either.

“Ralph will help you escape,” he says. He understands very well that it is most likely at the expense of his own life. “You only have to ask and Ralph will help you.”

“They’ll kill you if you try anything.” Kara sounds afraid and Ralph knows how that feels.

But Ralph doesn’t feel as scared now as he was before. He knows that no matter what happens, it is for a reason. And if the little girl has a chance to be safe, then Ralph is willing to give the ultimate sacrifice for her. Just like he would have done for the family he had before.  

“Ralph knows that. But if the little girl is free, it’s a little bit like everyone else was free. Ralph isn’t scared. The little girl’s life is more important.” Ralph glances at Kara, meeting her eyes just for a moment. “Take good care of the little girl. Ralph wants you both to be happy.”

He feels more at peace now than he has for the last few weeks. He is not afraid anymore. It is as though a weight has been lifted from Ralph’s shoulders. All the fear and anger and unbearable heartache has finally, mercifully, vanished. So when he sees Kara and the little girl make a run for the fence, he does not hesitate.

Breaking out into a sprint, Ralph tackles the guard who was about to shoot Kara. They land in the snow with a heavy thud. Before the guard can pull his gun up, Ralph begins bashing him as hard as he can with powerful fists. He will not let anyone hurt his friends! He will not allow it anymore!

The guard has finally stopped moving beneath Ralph’s hands. A quick glance over his shoulder confirms to Ralph that Kara has escaped. Relief washes over him as he rolls off the guard. All around him, the other androids that had been waiting in line for their fate have suddenly rallied to fight back. The guards that had been in the pen are suddenly being mobbed from every angle. None of them ever stood a chance. It gives Ralph a swelling of pride to see it.

Ralph slowly gains his feet. He looks down to his hand, then opens his bloodied, trembling fist. The bracelet is still there. A couple beads are broken, but it is mostly intact. He stares at it as the ruckus wages on around him. And then, like a lightning bolt, it hits him. All of it, everything. The past half year comes flooding back to him in a shattering,  overwhelming rush. Ralph staggers back a step. The farmhouse, the greenhouse, Garrett, Olivia, Gracie .

My family.

Tears well in my eyes and I double forward to brace my hands on my knees. I have been through a literal hell I was not sure I would survive and now I finally know where I belong. The clarity is stunning. It's like finally kicking to the surface of a lake after being submerged in its murky and disorienting waters for far too long. I need to get back. I need to find them again. It's the only thing that matters.

Stumbling to the back of the pen, I find a hole in the razor wire fence, then slip out unnoticed amongst the commotion. I make my way to an empty road about a half mile away and travel along the slushy, snow-driven shoulder on feet as light as air. For the first time in a long time, I have hope.

My heart feels so wonderfully liberated, I am not even bothered by headlights approaching me up the snowy, dark street. I feel no fear, no apprehension. I have a mission and nothing will stray me from the path.  

The vehicle slows to a stop beside me and the widow rolls down. "Hey, sweetie," the driver calls to me. "My name is Rose. Do you need help or a ride somewhere?"

The kindness in her face is endlessly reassuring. "I- I would love a ride," I reply eagerly.

After climbing into her vehicle, we get to know each other. With Rose's gentle coaxing I tell her my story. I want to leave out all the pain and fear and cruelty I experienced, but it comes spilling out of me before I can stop it. Coming to terms with my regained memory but also recognizing the rage I harbored during those dark times when I was just trying to survive is one of the hardest things I've ever done; realizing it will be an ongoing process is even harder.

As we drive, I give Rose as much information about the Baker’s farmhouse as I can. She lights up immediately and says she knows exactly who I am talking about. The Bakers live only a few miles from her and her son. The utter elation I feel is nearly indescribable. I am one step closer to my family.

Rose makes a quick stop on our journey to find some new clothes for me; jeans, a soft Henley, and a warm jacket. Not much longer after that, dressed and in my natural skin, with my bracelet secured around my wrist, I truly feel comfortable. Safe. Free. Alive.

We continue through the snowy night until just before dawn when the cobalt hues of a clear winter morning creep across the sky. Rose turns down a dark country road. It's a road I recognize immediately. Tears form in my eyes, I can't stop them. I don't want to.

I am going home. After all this time, I am finally going home.

#ralph dbh #detroit become human #whump #trauma #reverse big bang #hurt comfort #awrbb2020 #android whump reverse big bang 2020

[lothirielswanmarvel]

The Earthen Goddess

Summary: Long ago, in a time before spidermen and avenging heroes, Loki convinces Thor to undergo a vision to meet his future lover.

Love interest: Thor

~Thor, Asgard, 500 Years Earlier~

“You jest.”

“I can do it. Swear on Freya’s cursed boar.”

I scoffed at my brother. Loki was slim and long-limbed compared to other Asgardians. His face was even more unique; it had potent cheekbones that jut out like his daggers. They always made my brother look refined, and incredibly conniving.

My brother’s emerald eyes lit up with mirth. “I’ve been working on visions with mother.”

“So you are a witch after all?” I teased, raising my draught to my lips.

Loki rolled his eyes. “And you a lumbering oaf—this is a discussion for another time. These visions give me a glimpse into the future. Tell me there aren't things you don't want to know?”

I didn't bother with the maze of words he weaved. I simply tipped my drink back, stealing a glance at him over my mug of ale.

Loki huffed. “Come on—you’ve been with countless men and women. Don't you want to know whom you might end up with?”

My eyebrows furrowed. Loki and I had different opinions on the subject of love. For him, it was a dance. It was a mental game. I thought of romance as more of a sensation; something deep and warm and trusting. It was suspicious for him to bring up the matter.

“I’ll know when I find them,” I told him, setting down my drink with more force than I intended.

“Why not know now?”

“I like surprises—except when they involve you.”

Loki paused, his thin lips pressed together. My eyes widened as I realized what my words had implied.

“I am happy you are my brother. I would replace you with no other, Loki.” My hand clapped on his fragile, bone-thin shoulder. “Although, I prefer when there isn’t a knife in your hand.”

Loki nodded. His face still held that slight distortment. Sometimes that warped expression appeared around Volstagg and Hogan. Our friends. He called them my friends.

“Alright, I’ll agree to this vision.” I surrendered, watching the triumph glint in my brother’s eyes.

“You will not regret this, brother.” Loki stood from the wooden chair of the inn. It was a quiet night, and we had sat together in peace. Sometimes the crowds were smaller in Loki’s presence. “We’ll retreat to my chambers. We shouldn't require anything.”

“And if this is a trick…” I warned as I rose beside him.

“You’ll zap me at meals in the dining hall, or leave that damned hammer of yours around where I can stub my toe—like you usually do.”

“Mjolnir likes you, brother!”

“My knives are better.”

“But mine is more famous.”

“Oh, shut up.”

It was a quiet night. None pursued us in our journey back to the kingdom—perhaps it was Loki’s doing with some deceptive spell. My thoughts were confirmed when we stumbled upon a pair of guards and Loki suddenly cried, “Mmblerg, it's me!”

The stabbed guard was ushered to the infirmary.

The golden halls were easy to navigate. Their grand splendor was a common sight to us. There was an air of formality to our home, a dignification that made it hard sometimes to be at peace. We had to appear strong. Father preferred a projection of grace that Loki took too seriously.

We arrived at Loki’s chambers. The walls were furnished with books and peculiar objects and glaring daggers. Loki placed himself before a basin of what appeared like water, drizzling a few herbs and murmuring words I didn't understand.

“Boys?”

The voice was elegant and poised, and yet it still managed to be warm and loving. Mother peeked in curiously from the open doorway, assessing us. Her eyes were blue, most of the time—other days they were a colder gray, or a darker green. Tonight they were a pale cobalt, like a calm sky before a tempest.

“Hello, mother.”

“Loki, if another guard ends up in the healing rooms…”

“I know, I know!” Loki remained concentrated on the small pool of water.

Mother’s perfectly curved eyebrows dipped slightly. She leaned more into the room. “What are you two scheming?”

“Loki told me that you’ve been instructing him in visions of the future. It sounds exciting,” I said, hoping the enthusiasm for magic sounded real.

“Hmm,” Mother looked me over. The hem of her pink robes billowed at the entrance. “I think you’ll be pleased, Thor. But you must be patient.”

I didn't understand, but I never questioned her. “Of course, mother.”

She nodded, somewhat satisfied. “Well then...I’ll leave you to it.”

“See you in the morning light, mother.”

Mother lingered a few more moments. “What, no kiss?”

“We’re not three hundred years old anymore, mother.” Loki remarked.

I ignored my brother’s words and embraced her at the door. “I love you.”

“And I you, dear. If you could reiterate that to your brother when I leave, I would appreciate it.”

“Anything for the most magnificent woman in the nine realms,” I replied.

Her hand stroked my cheek. “She’s very lucky.”

Mother left without a sound in her wake. I moved towards my brother and stopped a few paces away.

“Stop scowling at me, I spend many hours of the day with her—my love is known.” Loki snapped.

“Did you tell her telepathically? With your witch powers?”

Loki muttered an irritated tsk sound like a provoked snake. His fingers flashed across the surface of the water, and the surface bled crimson.

“Is it...supposed to do that?” I asked warily as the scarlet color possessed the entire basin.

Loki shrugged with little concern. “Mostly. Here,”

His fingers flexed and suddenly a goblet was in his grasp. He filled the goblet with the red mixture and offered it to me. “The future awaits, brother.”

I took the offering tentatively, holding my stare with my brother. There was no hint of mischief in his eyes, but Loki was good at hiding things.

I raised the potion to my lips. It had a sweet taste, but not an enjoyable one. I had a stomach of steel; I would endure, but it didn't make the experience any more glorified.

When I finished the draught, I handed it back. The room began to spin.

Loki’s words floated to my ears. “Your future lover may not show up immediately. Your surroundings will change, sometimes there will be others present, but you will know it's her when you see her.”

“How?” It was hard to frame the question. A sick feeling grew in my stomach. The room was dominated by green. A dark, thirsting green that feasted on every other color.

“You’ll know.”

Loki was gone.

Asgard was gone.

I was now in an empty corridor. The change in scenery was contrasting to the lit golden halls: it was a narrow hallway with dark wood. I noticed a few peculiar stains. I glanced around. A sneer of disapproval began to grow on my lips.

This is my future? This is where the love of my life is supposed to be…?

It had to be a trick. Would I ever learn to stop falling for my brother’s mind games? What act was he avenging this time—?

“Thor.”

I peered down the edge of the hallway. A man appeared. He was blond, hair cut even shorter than Loki’s, but he did not have the appearance of a serf. His appearance didn't match any social ladder on Asgard. Well muscled, like a warrior. The fabric he wore was frail and common-looking.

“Good work out in the field today. Stark says we’re meeting up for a rendezvous at the shawarma place a few blocks off—see you there.” The man clapped me on the back as he passed. I frowned. He didn't appear familiar. I didn't believe he was my future lover—Loki preferred the company of men more than I.

I shook my head and continued walking down the dreary hallway. I was curious now—who was I looking for? Was she Asgardian? Did she like snakes? I hoped she liked rain.

“You don't look like him.”

I turned, shocked that I hadn't heard the newcomer arrive. She was far more intimidating than the last visitor—raven locks, eyelids bruised.

The woman smiled, like she knew a secret that I didn't. “No. You don't look like him at all.”

Like the last one, she turned and vanished into the endless void of the corridor.

I paused for a moment. She did look familiar, but I couldn't place her. Somehow, she reminded me of Mother. Her resemblance to Loki left me uncertain.

I carried on, suddenly curious about what the future implied. Loki said I would run into others—but would I ever find her? I wasn't interested at first. I liked to think that I would decide my own fate, shy away from those cosmic forces and claim my destiny on my own. But now, I was curious. I wanted to know what the universe had in store.

The smell was the first thing I noticed. It was sweet—not like the draught Loki offered, this actually smelled nice. Like the royal kitchens of Asgard when preparing a feast for a celebration. This was a sugary scent, something savory I had never smelled before. It aroused my senses.

There was a window at the end of the hall. Light stretched out and danced across the dark panes of wood. I followed the smell. I heard someone faintly humming.

There was a door at the end of the hall, wide open. I couldn't see inside yet, but it was the only door I had passed that permitted others entrance. The smell intensified, becoming mouthwatering.

“—Mmph, these are good. Cassie’s hooked on these, can I take the ones that you messed up on back to her?” The voice was male. I didn't recognize it.

“Don't be ridiculous, Scott. I’ll whip up a new batch for her.”

“Seriously? No wonder you literally got ‘angel’ in your name. I think I'm in love with you.”

“That love is called cupcakes.” A woman spoke. She spoke in a silvery tone, so light and friendly. It was nice to listen to.

I reached the doorway and peered inside. The room left me in shock. Despite the dreary hallway that led to it, this room was light. Bright colors on the walls, the counters. The windows were open, ushering in the aroma of flowers planted along the edge. It was small, yet radiated more warmth than the bifrost. It was the most cheery atmosphere I had ever entered.

Then my eyes fell upon her. The room suddenly paled in comparison.

She was like an earth goddess—bronze skin, dark hair. The color of her locks fascinated me; it wasn't a dull black, it was a deep brownish hue, rich like soil. Her hair curled into untame forms like tree roots and cascaded down her back. A cloth was wrapped around her head, similar to what servant girls wore, but she made it look like a crown.

I took a step closer, and the nearer I came, I was overwhelmed by every enticing detail. Her hands were tiny, wrapped around a wooden spoon as she stirred something in a bowl. Powder and smears of whatever she was making covered her, yet it did nothing to dampen her beauty.

All of the air in my lungs left when I stared upon her face. Roundish cheeks, full like ripe fruit. Her eyes were big and round and had this hazel-greenish hue to them like a forest, a forest I got lost in the longer I stared. My gaze dipped down to her lips, not too thin, yet not too full.

Her tiny hands paused and her eyes fell upon me. Her smile shone brighter than Asgard. “Hi, sweetie.”

The earthen goddess moved with the bounciness of a fairy or some nymph wandering the wilds. At some points it was almost like her feet left the ground.

She leaned up and pressed her lips to mine. I was unprepared for the intimate gesture. It was a swift kiss, merely a greeting, but a thousand of the kisses I had given and received in my lifetime did not compare to the softness, the pressure, the warmth. Her lips tasted sweet—almost delicious like pastries. From that moment on, I knew any dessert would remind me of her mouth.

The earthen goddess lowered, her heels returning to the ground. Those perfectly balanced lips parted like a blossoming rose to say something, “Are you okay? You seem a little stiff. Did you fight anybody today?”

I racked my mind for an answer. The logical, most common one appeared first. “Uh...my brother?”

“Ah. Did he try world domination again? I think he should aim smaller, like a park or something.”

I heard scuffling. Reluctantly, my gaze left her and rose to the table. A man was there, hands full with pink boxes and a light blue stain around his mouth. His face reminded me of a mouse, with the nose poking out and the beady eyes. “I’ll uh...leave you two alone. Thanks for the cupcakes, and the story.”

“Sure, Scott. See you later.”

The Mouse-Man shuffled off. We were alone.

The earth goddess wiped her hands on an apron tied about her waist and returned to the table with cooking ingredients. I seated myself across from her while she worked.

“What...story?” I asked. I was not used to this feeling in my stomach, a knot of emotions I wasn't used to—wariness? Awe? I was the Prince of Asgard. I did not get rattled so easily.

“Something with my aunt that happened a few years ago,” She shrugged like it was a well-known truth.

“Tell me,” I said.

Her hands froze. She folded them midair and sat her chin upon them. “Okay. It was the summer, and I was still in school. I decided that I wanted to go into political science. I already established tons of relationships with business owners through internships, and Pepper promised me more connections through Stark Industries.

“My aunt said if I was serious about the career choice, she would help me with it. And the first thing she did was force me into all of these gross jobs; cleaning houses, scrubbing toilets. I learned a lot about humanity in that summer, bleck. And so I continue doing all of these crappy jobs, but I have no idea why my aunt insisted this was the best way to prepare me. One day I asked her why I was doing it. And she responded with this,”

The earth goddess leaned close, and I found myself leaning in as well, drawn to her like the force of the earth. She continued, “ ‘Sometimes in the world of diplomacy, you have to get your hands dirty.’ ”

She was wise, but not in a flashy fashion like my brother. She was kind and worked hard and had an independent air about her. She was the strongest woman I had ever met.

Yes. This is the one.  

“The cosmos has rewarded me too much,” I murmured, feeling unworthy for the first time in my life.

“Does that include or exclude the cupcakes I saved from Scott for you?” She replied.

I laughed, although I did not know what “cupcakes” were. I was surprised that my future was so small and simple, yet I found myself already longing for the love I had discovered. “I suppose I shouldn't worry about my future. It looks bright to me.”

The earth goddess resumed mixing things in the bowl across from me. “What's all this stuff about the cosmos and the future? Did Loki get in your head with something—do you wanna talk about it?”

I smiled. She was a clever one. “Actually, Loki made this potion that would show me the future.”

“Mmm, see anything good?”

“Yes.” I looked at her. “It was magnificent.”

~*~

Loki’s laughter filled the high golden walls of the dining hall. “Do you hear yourself, brother? She was a baker, a cook, a mere servant girl!”

“Loki,” Mother hushed him a few seats away. My brother’s chuckles did not quiet.

“There was more to her than that!” I argued. “Her wit was as sharp as yours, and she didn't need tricks on her tongue to prove it!”

Loki’s lips pressed firmly together. Father's gaze rose from his plate.

“I do hope that the future Queen of Asgard is more than a baker and a storyteller.” Father remarked. “The qualities of a servant and an entertainer…”

My fist tightened around my goblet. I still did not know much about the earth goddess, but I detested these harsh accusations. What was so wrong about the future love of my life?

“Was she kind?” My mother asked quietly.

I looked up from the feast. I nodded once.

“Perhaps these qualities are a good thing, my husband. Is it not modesty and humbleness that every ruler should have?” My family, and some of my friends, shot me looks I found curious.

“Asgard should not be ruled by pride, or a hunger for power.” Mother’s words were pure reason. “They should be ruled by love.”

Father stared at her for a long time. It seemed as if they were speaking without words, about something I could not determine. Brother noticed it, too.

“Your words ring true, my love.” Father took her hand. “But it is merely a vision, and the future can change. Who is to vouch for a conjured vision’s accuracy?”

Loki flinched, and glared at his food. Mother simply put down her cutlery and shook her head.

“She must be a rare breed of a lady for the Mighty Thor to be rattled,” Whenever women were the topic of conversation, Fandral was not a shy one. “What was the woman’s name?”

I froze. I ran through the earthen goddess’ words in my mind, searching, hoping for an answer.

“Don't tell me you forgot.” Loki remarked beside me.

Volstagg chortled, “She must be some woman for you to forget to ask a simple question such as a name.”

“The Mouse-Man said something about her name,” I said, squinting at the table before me as I focused. “Yes...he said she had ‘angel’ in her name.”

Father stood abruptly from his throne. “Enough. There shall be no more talk of this wench. These halls shall not be disgraced by tales of Midgard.”

I rose from my seat. “Do not forbid the talk of my future love!”

“Ah! Future, but not love yet. Fate may change,” Father said. Mother’s facial expression did not agree with him. “Has she even been born yet?”

“No, my king,” Heimdall said quietly. “I cannot see her. Forgive me, it is not my place, but I would not underestimate Fate. Most men that have done so have paid the price.”

Father’s mouth opened, then his lips sealed together tightly. Heimdall’s wisdom could not be challenged. The meal carried on in silence.

“What else did you see, Thor?” Sif’s voice rose, wary as she cast a glance at the king and queen. “Was there anything else that the future showed you?”

“Before I saw her, I ran into others in the corridor.” I recalled, stroking my beard with one hand. “One man had the build of a warrior, he referred to a ‘Stark.’ There was also this woman…”

I fingered the knife that lay next to my plate. “She had raven hair, like yours, Sif, but it was not you. She wore green and black…”

I glanced at mother and found that both of my parents were staring at me. She leaned forward, “Did she...say anything, Thor?”

“She said, ‘You don't look like him.’ ” I answered.

Mother gave father a warning look. Odin sighed, “No more visions.”

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

A/N: Hi Awesome Adventurers and thank you so much for tuning in! I wrote this little drabble as a kind of pre-scene scenario to my new novel out now, Avengers: Love and Lightning, soon to feature a love triangle between the God of Thunder himself and Star-Lord! Yay! Come over and join us to see Thor and this "earthen goddess" get together (also to swoon over tall blond men and join us in denial over Infinity War!) Love, fortune and glory to you, Awesome Adventurers!!

#thor #thor x reader #Thor Odinson #marvel #Avengers #loki #loki laufeyson #loki odinson #odin #hela odinson #hela odinsdottir #queen frigga #loki friggason #sif #warriors three #fandral #volstagg #hogun #Steve Rogers #captain america #scott lang #tony stark #asgard #MCU fic #MCU fanfiction #avengers fanfiction

[alice-in-gingerland]

Axel/Roxas - Beauty and the Beast

So, I’ve been out of the writing game for roughly ten years, since university killed my spirit. But lately I’ve had this idea playing around in my head and wanted to see if I could still write. So I am slowly writing my Akuroku retelling of Beauty and the Beast. Posting the first chapter draft of chapter one here and hope people can give some feedback and maybe some ideas. Let’s see what happens!

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Namine sighed heavily, torn between slamming her face into her palms or shouting at the ragtag team in front of her.

‘You literally could have just taken a horse each!’

Sora raised his eyebrows in confusion, a cookie still raised partially to his lips.

‘But we only had one rope between the three of us.’

‘Plus, dwarves are too short to ride a full sized horse alone,’ added Riku, gesturing to a nodding Kairi. 

‘You didn’t even need a rope once Kairi’s character subdued them,’ Namine exclaimed.

Kairi giggled at her sister’s obvious exasperation but chose not to let it go just yet, ‘but you can’t control a horse like that, it’s not realistic.’

The whole group were beginning to laugh at the absurdness of the situation, even Riku was trembling slightly, trying to hold back his amusement at the normally calm dungeon master who was turning vaguely pink with frustration.

‘Why do you guys always have to make big events out of tiny situations, we’ll never get to the main parts of the quest if you keep doing this.’ She slammed the book in front of her closed with an air of finality, causing Sora to pout.

‘Ah Nams, you never let us mess around, that’s half the fun of DnD!’

Riku tilted back in his chair to check the clock on the kitchen wall, ‘to be fair, it’s getting pretty late. We should probably finish up and head home.’   

‘Let's make camp for the night, I’ll tie up the horses. We’re only a few kilometres from the town so will be good to rest up in case there’s a fight,’ said Sora, his eyes darting over the colourful map that covered the majority of the dining room table they sat at.

Namine rubbed her forehead tiredly before beginning to carefully pack away her books and pens. 

Sora was decidedly less careful, using his forearm to sweep his dice, notebook and other odds and ends into a waiting cardboard box, causing Riku to wince.

‘Before we head home, what’s the plan for Halloween this weekend,’ Kairi queried. She stretched out her back to loosen her muscles after a few hours being confined to the table, her russet hair almost tickling the small of her back. Namine tapped one of her colouring pens against her dusky pink lips, debating how she would like to spend one of her favourite holidays of the year.

Riku snorted, still leaning back dangerously in his chair and obviously in no hurry to assist with the clean up. ‘Aren’t we getting a bit too old to be trick or treating?’

Sora stuck his tongue out at the older boy, following up with a nudge to his chair. Riku’s azure eyes widened in panic as he struggled to stop from toppling backwards; he managed to right himself and gave Sora a victorious smirk.

‘Just because you turn fifteen soon doesn’t mean the rest of us have to stop enjoying ourselves,’ retorted Kairi, swiftly linking her arm through Sora’s.

The young brunette posed thoughtfully as he lent into his best friends supporting frame.

‘He does have a point though, maybe we could do something a bit more, I dunno, exciting this year?’

Namine’s brow dipped in concern, knowing from experience what Sora meant by exciting. Kairi nudged Sora with her hip. 

‘By exciting, I think you mean dangerous…’

The boy glanced to his right, a mock hurt expression crossing his face, ‘ well it doesn’t have to be anything bad, just maybe something scary. You know, to frighten Mr All Grown Up.’

Namine clapped her hands together in excitement, startling the three other teens who turned to her in puzzlement. The young girl’s features were alight with excitement, her usual cornflower blue eyes darkened with intent.

‘I think we should go to the old Wildwood House.’

Sora and Kairi almost bounced in excitement. Sneaking into the old Wildwood House had been a tradition for the teenage population in their town for at least the past two decades. The old manor house had been empty for over one hundred years, allowing multiple rumours to circulate regarding why no one had bought it; tales varying from gruesome murders to alien abduction. It didn’t help that the house sat imposingly upon the tallest hill in the area, surrounded by a dense pine wood that was often enveloped in thick mist due to the multiple hot springs the territory was known for. 

Namine beamed at her sister and Sora’s reactions as she began to twirl her ash blonde hair between her finger tips; her usual habit when dreaming up artistic ideas.

‘I’ve wanted to go for a while, apparently the architecture is untouched and even the original furniture and furnishings are unblemished - a paused moment in time. I really want to take some photos and maybe make a few quick sketches, but it’s way too creepy to go alone.’

The petite girl turned her pleading gaze upon Riku, who swiftly noticed all three of his friends were staring at him, silently pleading for his agreement.

‘Well if you three pansies think you’re up for it, why not,’ he shrugged, hooked his arms behind his head nonchalantly.

Sora grabbed Kairi’s hand, which she noticed was trembling slightly.

‘Oh my god Kairi, I can’t wait! Did you hear that the whole family was murdered up there by a wild axeman, and the ghosts still haunt the woods because they are buried in the floorboard.’

Kairi scoffed and argued, ‘don’t be stupid, they would have found the bodies. Everyone knows they made some kind of deal with the fairies for an immortal life and were transported to the faerie plain, they only return once a year to steal souls for the fairies.’

‘I heard that the man who lived there sold his soul to a fire demon for eternal beauty and power,’ retorted Namine. Riku let out a snicker and flicked a stray dice at the blonde. ‘Honestly, that’s the plot from Howl’s Moving Castle, you muppet.’

The youngest girl blushed and the four teenagers continued to bicker until they were interrupted by heavy footfalls and genial masculine voice.

‘Nah, the owner made a wish with a genie to be immortal, but it didn’t pan out quite the way he planned.’

Two young men appeared at the bottom of the stairs, one with a mischievous grin and pushed back dirty blonde hair, the other with an almost cherubic face; almost identical to Sora except obviously older with golden blonde styled locks, instead of a brown unkempt birdnest the younger brother liked to sport. 

Roxas pondered for a moment, nudging his friend out of the way so he could grab a crisp from the bowl on the table, ‘that’s not it either, it was a djinn. He was so set on looking for power that he was possessed by a travelling djinn.’ He popped the crisp into his mouth and almost immediately winced, ‘what is wrong with you guys, prawn cocktail, really!’ Roxas grimaced and wiped his fingers on his little brother’s shirt. 

Sora visibly bristled, shoving his brother away from the group.

‘What are you two doing down here, go away!’     

‘Snacks of course,’ Hayner countered, grabbing a handful of prawn cocktail crisps and winking in Namine’s direction. Riku narrowed his eyes and tugged the younger girl to his side; he didn’t mind Roxas, but his flirtatious friend could often be a little too forward with Kairi and Namine. The girls never seemed to mind, but Riku knew that Hayner was less than innocent and not very faithful at that. He had overheard arguments between the two older boys regarding Hayner’s treatment of women for at least two years. He’d never mention it to Sora but he had accidentally walked in on the pair of them locked in an extremely heated embrace once. The memory of their tongues and roaming hands made him nauseous and caused a shudder to ripple through his body. Hayner obviously didn’t care whose pants he was getting into as long as he was getting satisfaction from them.   

Deciding he’d annoyed his brother and company enough, Roxas gestured for his friend to follow him into the adjoining kitchen. 

‘Come on, let the kids play.’

Hayner gave a brief wave and grin before accompanying Roxas into the kitchen and closing the door behind them. 

‘Ah, that takes me back.’

Roxas raised an eyebrow in question whilst grabbing two cans of fizzy from the fridge, passing one to the other boy. Hayner gratefully accepted the can, popping it open with a satisfying hiss and taking a large gulp before answering, ‘you know, when you, me, Pence and Ollette used to come round here and play a bit of dungeons and dragons.’

Roxas rested his hip against the sideboard, his gaze turning pensive for a moment.

‘Yeah, back before it was cool,’ he laughed, ‘also before we discovered the lure of alcohol.’

Hayner slid forward and lightly caressed Roxas’s forearm, his voice taking on a heated tone ‘before we discovered other things as well.’

Roxas’s eyes flashed with annoyance and he gently but firmly brushed away the offending appendage. ‘Aren’t you seeing that guy Seifer.’

He moved away from his promiscuous friend, putting a bit of distance between them before taking a sip of his drink. Fooling around with Hayner has always been fun, but he worried it was a distraction from him finding a real and meaningful relationship; something Roxas was starting to desire more than simply sexual gratification. He wanted dedication and passion, and was perfectly aware Hayner was not capable of fulfilling those needs. He also wasn’t keen on accidentally becoming ‘the other man’ when his friend inevitably forgot he was in a monogamous relationship. 

‘I was only teasing,’ Hayner said, not looking as chagrined as Roxas believed he should be feeling.

“Anyway, me and Seifer aren’t exactly exclusive,’ he continued, picking at the side of his can, ‘pretty sure he’s crashing with Fuu and there’s no way those two are platonic.’

Sensing his friend's discomfort Roxas replied, ‘you don’t know that, you know better than I do that he fights with his Dad on the regular. He probably just needed a safe place to stay and him and Fuu have been mates since primary school.’

A small smile flit across Hayner’s face as he glanced up.

“You’re probably right, always are.’

Roxas gave the taller boy a shove and the two chuckled quietly.

Sounds of giggling and shuffling trickled under the kitchen door as the pair relaxed into an amicable silence.

“Do you remember when we went up to the Wildwood House,” Roxas murmured.

Hayner shifted, leaning back on his tanned arms, ‘yeah, it was creepy man, but only because it was old and dark and we were thirteen.’

Roxas frowned, “what about the figure I saw, and that burning fire?’

Hayner snorted and replied, ‘dude, you freaked out at a curtain, and some group who went up before us must have lit a candle to scare the next visitors. Just don’t say anything to the kids; Sora will get all hyped up then they’ll all be disappointed when it’s just an empty old house.’

Yanking open a cupboard door, Hayner extracted a bag of bacon rasher crisps and a packet of party ring biscuits and gathered them under his arm.

“Come on mate, got your fav biscuits, let’s go destroy strangers on Rocket League.’

The muscular blonde elbowed open the door and strode away, leaving Roxas to his vague memories of a slim cloaked figure reaching out to him with a palm of smokeless flames. 

#akuroku #axel #roxas #kingdom hearts #beauty and the beast #teen #hayner #namine and kairi are sisters #djinn #axel and roxas #fanfiction

[jenovahh]

The Honey Pot - Ch. 7 - Kill or Be Killed

The room is eerily silent, the tension between Father and Son so thick you could feel it weighing upon your shoulders. Zenos clearly has no problem hiding what seems to be more than distaste for his father; his expression remains unchanged except for the murderous glint in his eye. The door shuts audibly behind him as he moves further into the room.

Varis has yet to move, casually turning toward his son ever so slightly. “Indeed I have, boy.” Varis responds, clearly not perturbed by his son’s less than warm welcome. “As I had told you, it was but a matter of quick business in Gyr Albania; I was able to return early.”

“One would think you would warn your son of your return.” Zenos seethes, eyes narrowing the tiniest bit.

“Oh? I didn’t think it important, considering you never felt so concerned before.” Varis huffs, his eyes sliding back to you. “However...I see that other matters require my attention.” His golden eyes briefly flick to your hand still clutching his wrist. “Lyngsath had informed me that this...girl, is your new bodyguard. Is it true?” The CEO asks, boring his unfeeling eyes into yours. You return his look with a fiery glare.

“She is mine, yes.” Zenos responds, and that is enough to finally tear your eyes away from him to land on the Galvus heir.

“And where did you pluck this savage from?” Varis questions, staring his son down.

Fury runs hot in your veins, teeth clenched as you glare at the unfeeling CEO. “Release him.” Zenos orders before you can even flex your muscle to constrict painfully around Varis’ wrist. Ice blue eyes fix you with a frigid stare. “Now.”

Giving one last look at his father, you snarl and flick his wrist from your grip, crossing your arms impatiently. It made no sense how Zenos was more ready to (albeit unintentionally) protect your cover than you were.

“Come here.” Zenos demands, and as much as it stings your pride, you leave his father’s side to go stand by him. Ice blue eyes scan over you, searching, finally jerking away once they’ve had their fill. “Where I found her isn’t important. Haven’t I satisfied your demands for me to have bodyguard for my public image?” Zenos hisses, crossing his arms across his chest.

“Indeed, you have, though I wonder about the integrity of your choice if they are so willing to assault their very employer.” Varis drawls, fixing you with a pointed look as if he is almost daring you to hit him. It raises every hair on your body, teeth bared until Zenos’ arm shoots out to grab yours roughly and keep you in place.

“I wouldn’t worry about that.” Zenos purrs, a smirk on his lips. “She doesn’t have the conviction to kill.”

“Oh?” Varis questions, arching an eyebrow. You hate how they speak about you as if you’re not even in the room. “You are certain?”

Reaching up with his free hand, Zenos tugs the collar of his shirt down slightly. “Before your arrival I had dared her to end my life. She clearly detests me, and I gave her the opportunity. As you can see by these marks left from her hands, she has quite the grip.” His eyes slide to you, a cool, molten fire. “Clearly, I am still standing here.”

Varis arches a singular, sculpted brow, gaze flicking to you no longer with scrutiny...but disdain. “I see. And she is...aware what her job entails?” You can tell this question is carefully worded, making you wonder; are there Galvus employees who don’t know the depths of their crimes?

“She was to be informed after she had her missed lunch. Are you quite through questioning me?” Zenos’ grip strengthens almost painfully, and you try to jerk out of it but it’s like trying to move stone.

“I suppose I am.” Varis concedes, walking toward the very door Zenos had come through. “Though if she cannot bring herself to kill, I doubt her ability to fulfill her job’s duties entirely. If she doesn’t last, it is a problem of your own making and will be your mess to clean.” With those last words, he steps out, the sound of his expensive, leather shoes clicking against the tile down the hallway.

It is silent for a few moments, the two of you staring at the door where Varis had retreated. Zenos snaps to face you, almost scaring you with the movement. “Get your lunch from Lyngsath, and follow me.” All traces of teasing and taunting are gone from his voice. Sensing that now was not the time to push your luck, you roughly pull away from his grip and head back into the kitchen. Lyngsath calmly gives you your plate covered in foil, and rushes you back out into the dining room.

Zenos quickly turns to leave and you shuffle your feet to keep up with him, eyes failing to notice the slightly bent door handle.

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Zenos’ office resides upstairs, though from the looks of it you wonder if it gets much use. Though it is clean, there is a staleness in the air that leads you believe he only uses this room when absolutely necessary. He lets you in first, following you in afterwards as the lock sounds with a resounding click.

Placing your plate upon the desk, you take note of the fancy computer, looking as if it was only taken out of its box yesterday. There are a few papers neatly stacked in one corner of the desk, a cup holding an array of pens. It looked fairly standard compared to the luxury the rest of the house seemed to exude.

The silence is deafening, the atmosphere oppressive as you wait for him to speak. “So...your dad, huh?” You begin, preparing to turn around to face Zenos, gasping as he is suddenly upon you, yanking your wrist upward. “Hey! What’re you doing?!” You yelp, trying to pull out of his grip. The harder you try, the more it hurts, and you realize that you could take him on in a fight, but in means of brute strength he was the obvious victor.

His eyes flick to you coldly. “Be still.” He orders lowly, eyes going back to examining your hand. It’s the same one you used to grab Varis you realize, his gaze examining every inch of exposed skin on downward, almost as if he assessing your wellbeing. “He...did not harm you?” Zenos asks, trapping you in a serious gaze. If the man before you could feel concern, what was in his eyes was not it. Something far darker burned in his gaze, something almost feral.

“No. He came in while I was waiting on Lyngsath to give me my food. He asked me who I was, and called me a savage. I wasn’t having it.” Your voice is a near whisper, as if dealing with a barely restrained animal.

“Do not do that again.” Zenos instructs, the look in his eyes sending chills down your spine.

“If he calls me that, I don’t,” You cry out in pain as Zenos locks you against the desk, pressing hard with his weight on yours. Of course he is heavy with all that muscle, and you stand no chance of trying to get him off you when he’s restricted your ability to move. You whimper as he grabs your chin roughly, forcing you to face him as he looks you hard in the eye.

“Listen to me, Honey.” You stop your struggling immediately at the sound of your name, freezing in his hold. He searches your eyes, and you wish he knew what he was looking for. “You only get away with how you speak to me because I allow it. My father is not so lenient, and will not tolerate your disrespect.” His grip loosens slightly at your continued silence. “As I told you before, even I must still answer to my father. I do not fear him, but even with your skills...you should.”

You can’t hide the gasp you release at that statement, eyes widening. He releases your chin, hand slowly falling to steady himself against the desk he is currently pressing you into. You try not to think too hard on how nice he smells. “If you are seen as a threat to him or his image in any way, only moving out of Kugane entirely would save you and even then, just barely.” A hand drifts to take your hair in hand, twirling it much like his father had done earlier. “Thankfully, your hesitation to kill has put you out of his sight. He has no use for anyone who is not willing to kill or be killed for him.” He chuckles darkly for a moment, gaze half lidded as he releases your hair. “Not that I would let him have you. You’re mine.”

That last statement alone reignites the fire within you. “I belong to no one.” You snap, pressing back against his wall of a body. Your faces practically touch, breath intermingling.

“Rattle your cage all you want my beast, so long as you work for me, I have a firm grip on your leash.” He purrs, the teasing edge finally slipping back into his voice. “Should I have one made? It’ll be only the finest leather.” He croons, tipping your chin up.

“I’ll bite your face off.” You snap at his finger with your teeth, cursing his quick reflexes as he jerks his hand out the way.

“Oh, my sweet savage, I hope so.” Pulling away, he leisurely circles the desk, elegantly seating himself in the high back, leather chair. “Before I release you to eat your already late lunch, I must hold true to my promise to inform you of your duties.” Reclining, he steeples his fingers in his lap. “You are my bodyguard, and as such I will expect you to put yourself in harm’s way for me. My public image is simply as the next in line to inherit the company; my skills in combat are but rumors. As a result, you must react before I do to any threat.” He pauses for a moment, and you give a slow nod.

“Any public appearances, such as dinners, premieres, conferences, you must be there. You will be able to communicate on a closed linkshell with my father’s own guards should the situation call for it, as there are times we must attend such gatherings together. Even if we don’t have any formal gatherings to attend, you still must be ready to be called upon when we are here at the estate, or at the office.” Crossing one leg over the other, he rests his head upon one hand. “I can trust that you are smart enough to realize you are not to speak of any information you may hear when we’re out on business.”

“Who would I tell, and who would believe me?” You counter, tutting at his satisfied smirk.

“We have many secrets, my beast.” He purrs, lips curling into a dark smile. “Though what my father said might have some truth. I wonder how you will react when the time comes…” He muses more to himself than anything.

Your stomach gives an audible growl, prompting Zenos to snort rudely. “You’re done here. More formal writing of your contract should already be waiting in your room. Go and eat, I won’t have your ribs showing like I don’t feed you.” He lazily waves his hand in a shooing motion, rolling his eyes dramatically.

“Thanks for the dismissal.” You ground out, snatching your plate off the desk. You throw him one last glare before making your way out the door.

The door slides shut behind you, and as you turn to walk down the hall you take notice of the fact you are now on the upper floor of the estate, where the family stayed. Thinking of what you know of the Galvus family, you don’t remember mention of any younger siblings, only Zenos as the heir to Varis’ steadily growing empire. Varis seemed to have no wife as far as you could tell, leaving you to wonder how on earth his son came to be. You really should’ve brushed up on an article or two on him...

The upper floor houses less paintings, less statues on its walls as you walk down the lengthy hall. Only family must be allowed up here, therefore there was no need to show off as much wealth when you lived here everyday. On that note, you ponder why Zenos chooses to still live with his father. Surely he has his own assets to be able to make it on his own? Would he not want his own place to start his own family?

The snort you release is loud enough to startle a maid as you strut by. You whisper a quick apology and hurry on down the grand staircase. Who could possibly love a bastard like him?

Reaching your room, your plate has long since grown cold, but you don’t want to impose on Lyngsath any further after he had been subject to Varis’ questioning. He didn’t seem too afraid if only a little anxious, but still, you kept Ardbert’s words of caution in mind. Besides, the food looked good enough that it could’ve been frozen through and it’d still taste amazing.

Settling down at the desk, sure enough a fairly thick stack of papers is neatly centered on the lacquered surface, waiting for your appraisal. Uncovering the plate, you dig in as you begin flipping through the contract. There’s quite a bit of fine print, and just looking at it makes you groan in exhaustion. Did it really matter if you truly read it thoroughly? You’re an undercover agent; it’s not like you have any legal nonsense to worry about. Raubahn had already said you would be cleared of all charges once the mission was successful.

If it was successful.

A daily schedule is woven in with the pages of information, and your eyes scan it lazily as you shovel another piece of delicious fish in your mouth. Your day would start at sunrise for whatever reason, doing morning exercises with Zenos. He must’ve typed this part himself, for you’re sure no normal employer who deemed themselves important enough to need protection would ask their protector to be their gym buddy.

The rest of the day is somewhat lax, your duties revolving solely on what Zenos must do for that day. It surprises you that you might be spending a majority of your time in an office building; Zenos is held responsible for a lot of overseeing and delegation of how the company runs. It makes sense now why his home office is so underused, because it is.

Already you dreaded the thought of following his lordship around, but saw no way around it. It didn’t escape your notice how there was no mention of any activities of the illegal nature, making you wonder if you had to earn their trust first. It hurt you none to see they didn’t trust you, considering you were somehow still employed in the first place after manhandling the CEO and attempting to choke out his son.

What is my life… you ponder, gazing out the window to the splendid yard. You certainly can’t say you expected to go undercover to take down Kugane’s biggest crime boss by going through his son. Hell, you had only received the bare minimum on espionage training. You had no way to contact Lyse or Y’shtola, who only knew you had gone on the mission, no way to know whether you were alive or not.

Forced to obey a narcissistic asshole with zero concept of personal space while dodging his father who somehow manages to be worse.

Your head falls to thud loudly against the desk as you heave out a long suffering sigh.

Hydaelyn help you make it through this.

#zenos yae galvus #zenos #ff14 #FFXIV #Final Fantasy 14 #THP

[darksunrising]

Sola Gratia (15/?)

Masterlist

Rating / Warnings : No particular warning.

Fandom : Bram Stoker’s Dracula, BBC’s Dracula, various Dracula and vampire lore.

Part 15/? (2998 words)

Author’s notes : This chapter is under Leah’s point of view ! There will be a few of them from time to time, as I’d like to explore her vision of the events too, but don’t worry, Drac and Eris will be back soon ;)

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I woke up in a cold sweat. Like right after a nightmare, although I couldn't remember anything from my sleep. Hair splayed over her pillow, Eris was still fast asleep. She looked so peaceful, her chest rising softly with every breath. Seeing her so calm almost allowed me to put my mind at ease with the whole situation. She was very far from being an idiot, or careless. If she didn't seem concerned with the man, maybe I could, or should, trust her judgement. She was rarely wrong in her instincts about people. Especially in that situation, I could hardly see her blindly give her trust to someone so dangerous.

Holding back a loud sigh, I checked my phone. It was barely 6am. The dark outside was still bathing the room in a blue haze, the imminent sunrise only betrayed by a faint blush over the horizon.

Knowing there was no way I'd fall asleep again, I jumped down from the bed, leaving Eris to finish her night. As always after a rough sleep, I was dying of thirst. Trying to make as little noise as I could, not to wake my friend or attract any fiend, I slipped out of the room, and made my way back to the living room.

There, an opening in the wall I already had noticed gave onto a dining room, and I figured I would be able to find the kitchen from there. As I crossed the door, I was surprised to see a modern, fully equipped one. I mean, for someone who didn't cook, that was almost suspicious. Shrugging it off for now, I found a glass in a cupboard, and went to the sink to get my nice, refreshing-

“Thought I heard something.”

I jumped, and dropped the glass, which shattered at the bottom of the sink. Quickly turning over, I noticed the tall silhouette leaning on the frame of the door. Letting out a long sigh, I waited a few moments to let my heartbeat to go back to normal. Of course she stayed. Her long, silvery hair was tied in a loose braid, softly swaying in her back. She traded her Renaissance outfit for something more, well, modern, so to speak.

“I didn't think I could scare you like this, please accept my apologies.”

Her tone was sincere, but a twinkle in her eyes, and the smirk settling on her lips told me otherwise. I discreetly glanced around for a weapon of some sort, if it came to that.

“Oh, don't worry, I've already eaten, I'm not here for that”, she laughed.

“Do tell, please. The suspense is killing me.”

That's right, dumbass, be sarcastic with the murder machine, see if that works out. She stepped towards me, and set her elbows on the island, leaning in.

“Let's say you got me curious”, she mused, smiling, her eyes narrowing like a content cat. “Not a lot of people would have dared threaten Drac like that. Fewer have done so and lived to tell the tale, actually.”

A shiver ran down my spine. “Lucky me.”

“Or, more likely, he's not the man he once was”, she retorted, wincing.

More than disdain, a twitch in her eyebrows betrayed worry.

“I am worried”, she told me, as if she'd read my mind. “If we are facing the threat I believe we are, we should need Dracula The Impaler, not Vlad The Tired Grandpa”, she sighed.

Nothing about Vlad screamed “grandpa” to me, but then again, I wasn't that savvy on vampiric standards of fitness.

“Why are you telling me this ?”, I asked, starting to feel a bit curious too.

“Because”, she began, standing back up, “I need your help. I've gathered that you broke into MINA's servers once before, is that correct ?”

Ah, that. I confirmed, nodding.

“Well, every murder I used to attribute to Vlad in the region is immediately classified, and brought to them. If I should hope to find their trail, I need access to those files, or at least, a crime scene.”

She sounded frustrated. Being what she was, I could understand why she'd be a bit reluctant to go find her informations in a vampire hunter den.

“So you need me to find that information, then”, I suggested, crossing my arms over my chest.

She confirmed. I didn't give any answer, and turned to the sink, decidedly picking up the shards of glass, placing them on the counter. I suddenly felt Carmilla's presence close behind me.

“No, let me, you'll cut yourself-”, she softly told me.

Obviously, my finger slipped on the sharp edge, which easily sliced through the skin. Red started pearling at the cut, and I could only let a small “fuck” escape my lips. I froze for a second, maybe waiting for Carmilla's reaction as I felt her breath on the nape or my neck. I barely felt her hands grazing over my shoulders, one taking the glass from me, the other one wrapping around my hand, and bringing it up. Completely stunned, I didn't react as her tongue slowly ran up my finger, catching the drop of blood before it could run further down. She took her time, and as soon as she passed along the wound, a jolt of electricity ran through my body. For a second, I felt my knees give out, but she had me secured, her arm firmly around my waist. As suddenly as she started, she released my hand, and I was surprised to find only a fine white line where my finger was open before. I turned back towards her, and must have looked as confused as I felt, as she started grinning. Her smile revealed two sets of fangs, poking from underneath her upper lip, slowly retracting. For a second, I could have sworn her icy blue eyes were entirely red, but in a blink, they were back to normal.

“Vampire saliva has enhanced healing properties”, she explained. “Otherwise, we'd bleed people out every time we'd like a drink.”

“I just assumed you did”, I replied, feeling out the barely noticeable scar. She had a crystalline laughter.

“Can you imagine ? Humanity would already be extinct, if that were the case. Turns out you don't need much of our help on that.”

“How much blood do you need to be sated, then ?”, I asked, my curiosity taking the lead over my apprehension of the answer.

I couldn't believe I was actually asking those questions. Before she miraculously healed my cut, I still could have believed this was some very advanced role-play situation. There she was, leaning back on the island, lips slightly parted, a low, purring sound faintly coming from deep inside her throat. Those perfectly shaped lips, a perfect golden pink, darker than her skin, tainted on the corner by a drop of red. Her tongue darted out to clean it. I wondered if the feeling would be the same if I kissed her... Fuck, focus ! Focus !

“Let's make a deal, shall we ? You help me with my problem, and I'll tell you everything you wanna know about vampires. Sounds like a fair bargain, doesn't it ?”

I pretended to consider it a second. She played along, even though I knew I usually did a terrible job at hiding my excitement. Don't get me wrong, I was still mostly terrified, but how often do you get to do a study on actual immortal beings ? Were they actually immortal ? Could they eat anything other than blood ? Now that I thought about it, I never saw Vlad eat or drink something, ever. Huh, that should have been a red flag. I held out my hand, and she shook it in a falsely formal way. That had us laughing after a second. God, she had such a pretty laugh.

“Well, you sure changed your mind fast.”

Eris stepped into the room, and sat up on the counter. Her tousled hair was cascading onto her shoulders, her hazel eyes sparkling with mischief. I suddenly was very aware of the way Carmilla's thumbs slowly brushed over my hands as she held them. I could feel my face go red. Ah, a taste of my own medicine.

“Leah was telling me how she'd help with my investigation”, Carmilla told my friend.

“Really ?”, she sounded genuinely surprised. “How ?”

“I'm hacking into MINA again”, I told her. “I know what to expect now, and Carmilla says it's the best way to get an edge on the bad guy.”

“The Elder”, Carmilla precised, a dark shade over her bright eyes.

Eris nodded softly, her face suddenly drained of all colors. She fidgeted with the belt cord of her pajama pants, doing and undoing the knots at the end. I couldn't believe those assholes at MINA actually showed her pictures. Couldn't imagine what that must have been like... Not pretty, I assumed. I shuddered at the thought that I might have to deal with those in the very near future.

“I'll go find Vlad, we still need to find a way to ensure safety to you both”, Carmilla told us.

She let go of my hands, giving them a squeeze before she left, the click of her heels  fading in the halls. Still perched on the counter, Eris was intently looking at me, and she opened her mouth as to say something.

“Don't ! I'm warning you !”, I interrupted her.

She laughed. “Come on, I'm allowed to point out the irony.”

“There is nothing there to point at.”

“Sure, right. You look thirstier than her, honey.”

I let out a long groan, but couldn't help but smile. I mean, yeah, sure, Carmilla was the most mesmerizing, beautiful woman I had ever seen in my entire life, but did that have to mean I had any feelings for her ? No. I mean, one can appreciate beauty without necessarily falling in love. Iwas fine. I didn't have the time to further defend myself, however, as Carmilla soon came back, in the middle of an agitated conversation with Vlad, in something I assumed had to be a very accented Romanian. I had heard Eris speak it often enough, but hers had to be much more academic than theirs.

“Is everything okay ?”, Eris asked.

“Fine. I was telling Carmilla how the best solution would be that you both stayed here, where it's safe”, Vlad replied, insisting on the last word.

He somehow looked tired, his complexion almost chalky, eyebrows furrowed in a worried expression.

“And I was telling Vlad we can't let the Elder know we're onto him”, Carmilla insisted.

Vlad cursed under his breath, but Eris interrupted.

“Vlad, I can't stay here”, she told him in a soft, but firm tone. “I have classes, I can't just ditch my students like that. I have a cat that's probably tearing my flat apart because I didn't feed him last night, I can't go on a holiday unprompted !”

“Do you understand the gravity of the situation ? I won't have you end up the main attraction of a Penny Dreadful !”

“First of all, no one talks like that. Second, you gave me a vampire-killing gun for that exact purpose.” She hopped down from the counter, and took a look at me. “I don't know about Leah, but you are taking me back to my place as soon as I'm dressed.”

She took his hand in both hers. They looked so tiny next to his. “I'll be fine”, she almost only mouthed, looking at him, and smiling. He took a moment, then his shoulders dropped in defeat, and he sighed. “Fine”. Who wouldn't have melted at her face, and her little smile ? God, she had him wrapped around her little finger, didn't she ?

She proposed we both got dressed, and I realized I was still only wearing a flannel shirt, mercifully dropping past my mid-thigh. Eris placed a little kiss on Vlad's hand, and I followed her out. She almost gave the impression that she floated more than she walked, a dreamy smile plastered on her lips. As soon as we stepped into her room, I closed the door behind us.

“Alright, something happened”, I accused her. “What happened ?”

She took an innocent expression, but the pink on her cheeks fooled exactly no one. I pressed her, to which she still denied knowing whatever I was referring to. I leapt to her, making the both of us fall onto the bed. I pinned her down, and he pretended to struggle, which had the both of us laughing like schoolgirls. She finally took a deep breath.

“We kissed”, she admitted, avoiding my gaze.

“That's it ? One kiss ? Are you twelve ?!”

I was absolutely outraged. I mean, she had made me used to way better in terms of sentimental gossip. To say the least, she didn't have the most stable, or calm relationships, and I always loved to hear the sordid details. And now, she was blushing like a little girl because of a kiss. I mean, you would have thought a crush on an actual vampire called for a little bit more action, damn. She reached over her head for a pillow, and bashed me over the head with it.

“Oh, shut up !”, she protested. “It's been a long time, alright ?”

“Come on, you broke up with Sonja like two months ago”, I sighed.

“Three and a half”, she clarified, sitting back up.

Ah, leave it to me to bring up an ex and ruin the mood. They dated what, three years, before they started to “drift apart”. I always thought they were great together, and I felt like their break-up made me cry more than the two of them combined. They actually had to comfort me. They tried remaining friends for a while. That's when she started her burn-out, and decided to fuck off to Romania for a week. I never was one to question her process, so me and Sonja stayed out of it and only helped her plan the trip. Turns out, maybe we should have sent her the weather predictions for that week, huh ? As she was already gone, Sonja found a contract in the south of the country, only to come back in the beginning of summer. I figured that might leave Eris the time to heal. And I thought, as she still seemed pretty down after she came back, that the handsome mysterious stranger could help with that. Had I known he tried murdering her a week prior, I would probably have reconsidered.

We both got dressed, changing the subject to her next classes. She barely prepared them, given all that had been on her mind of late. She already had the dreaded meeting with Stephan Helder-Van-Helsing and Laurent, and the latter had agreed to tutor him on his master's degree, enrolling Eris as a secondary tutor. The kid was eager, and she was sure to get an email from him every couple of days, asking for her advice on his research, or sometimes, sending her articles he thought she'd like. She pretended to be annoyed, but I knew she found it somewhat endearing.

As soon as she was ready, she insisted on leaving fast, leaving me alone with Carmilla. I suspected this was some sort of revenge for my plotting at the faire, as she stepped out with a mischievous smile, and a wink. I gave her the finger, and she blew me a kiss. As I closed the front door, Carmilla came into the hall, holding a soviet Union looking industrial computer, and handed it to me. The bitch had to weigh ten pounds.

“Let's not lose any more time. We should get to work.”

“I can't work on this, Carmilla”, I told her with an apologetic smile. “I need my tools. I mean, they caught me once because I was careless. If they even notice someone is trying to hack them again, I'll be their number one suspect.”

She looked disappointed. “Well, what do you need ?”

“I have everything at home. Plus, it's always better to hide in a crowd, the city will be better.”

She nodded along, and clapped her hands together. “Let's go, then.”

“Vlad took the car, didn't he ?”, I enquired as we went outside.

She shook a set of keys between her fingers. “I went for a snack last night, and brought back mine”, she told me, and pointed at a blue pick-up.

It was parked sideways, and the tires had left deep marks in the white gravel. An old Chevrolet pickup, the paint chipping away to show a little rust, but overall, pretty well maintained.

“That's not what I expected”, I told her as I settled on the leather seats.

“Listen, Vlad likes his cars expensive and shiny, I like mine reliable.” she gave a affectionate slap on the dashboard. “I've had her for more than fifty years, and she's never let me down.”

Her comment made me wonder how old she actually was. I mean, Vlad was a few centuries old, and they seemed to know each other pretty well. She probably turned younger than him, as she didn't look more than thirty-five or so. She slipped on a pair of driving leather gloves, and started the car. The engine roared nicely, and I barely had the time to put in my seat-belt before she rushed off into the road. Instinctively grabbing the handle on the roof, I protested.

“Hey, only one of us is invulnerable in here !”

She assured me she never had an accident, which I seriously doubted. I was coming to regret Vlad's smooth driving, compared to speed maniac cackling next to me. She turned on the cassette player, catching the middle of Mr. Blue Sky. She started singing along, and I joined her, laughing as the sun finished to burn up the sky.

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Taglist : @carydorse @angelicdestieldemon @bloodhon3yx @thewondernanazombie @battocar @moony691 @mjlock @thebeautyofdisorder @festering-queen @paracosmfantasy @lost-girl-inc

#Sola Gratia #Sola Gratia part 15 #fanfiction #fanfic #dracula #carmilla #dracula fanfiction #carmilla fanfiction #Bram Stoker's Dracula #dracula castlevania #dracula au #dracula x oc #vampire #vampire x human #vampire x oc #slow burn #enemies to lovers #enemies to friends to lovers #dracula netflix #dracula bbc #wlw #wlm #also just so you know drac/eris are bi and carm/leah are lesbians #i don't make the rules