#i can understand if someone is unsure about watching cats because it is. strange? sometimes? to me at least? | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

rocorambles · 3 years

Text

Curiosity Killed the Cat

Pairing: Kuroo x Bokuto x Daichi x Reader

Genre/Warnings: NSFW, Threesome, Foursome, Degradation, Humiliation, Sex Toys, Bondage, Pet Play, Double Penetration, Triple Penetration, Dirty Talk, Gangbang, Orgy

Dating Kuroo is an adventure to say the least and you’re finally understanding what the saying ‘curiosity killed the cat’ truly means. You had always prided yourself on being open minded, always willing to try things at least once. But your boyfriend is really testing your limits, widening your horizons as he introduces you to toys you didn’t even know existed, coaxes you into positions and scenes you never thought you would enjoy as much as you do, drowns you in depths of pleasure you didn’t think was possible. Yet for all his roguish sly charm and wily ways, he’s careful to never overstep your boundaries, hazel eyes always carefully observing you, stopping and cradling you in strong arms even before you yourself have realized that you’re way over your head.

Maybe it’s silly and naive of you, but you trust him with your life. Maybe that’s why despite how surreal and overwhelming the word ‘threesome’ sounds, despite the way your head spins at the thought of being sandwiched between two bodies when Kuroo alone is enough to make you feel like you’re losing your mind, you hesitantly nod your head when he gently asks you about it.

You’re glad it’s Bokuto that Kuroo invites into your bedroom and you can’t help but feel like you’re being embraced by the sun itself as strong arms pin you down, a broad smile that warms your heart peering down at you, an energetic voice making you giggle as it hoots about how beautiful you are. And when both men finally bottom out inside of you, Bokuto capturing your lips in a passionate kiss as his cock stretches your dripping pussy, Kuroo nuzzling and sucking your neck in a way that has you gasping and distracted from the twinge of discomfort from your puckered hole, you can’t help but feel that there’s something ironically sweet and comforting about the new position you’re in, nothing crass or dirty about it despite all the negative connotations of having more than two bodies in a bed.

You can’t help but shake your head in amusement in between wanton moans as the two men you’re sandwiched between begin to playfully banter above your head as they continuously thrust into both your holes, squealing when they decide to use you to compete against each other, two sets of hands gripping your waist and hips tighter as they increase their pace, drool trickling from the side of your open mouth as your eyes roll back in your head, nails digging and clawing at the muscular shoulders and back of the professional athlete in front of you, head leaning back and resting against the toned chest of your boyfriend.

It feels good, maybe too good being stretched fuller than you’ve ever been before, being manhandled like a rag doll, unable to do much except lay there as your two partners move you up and down as they see fit. But there’s something comforting and grounding about the two warm bodies surrounding you and you stare transfixed, pussy tightening and more arousal making a mess between your legs as Bokuto and Kuroo hungrily lock lips, owl and cat fighting for dominance as they spill their seed inside of you, filling you to the brim, smirking at the way you can’t stop gazing at both of them in awe, teasing you about the way you’re clamping down on their cocks from their little show like a perverted little voyeur.

If you thought Kuroo and you were adventurous before, this is an entirely new realm of exploration and you deliriously wonder if you can ever go back, if you even want to go back to the way things were before as you’re brought to mind breaking pleasure over and over again, sometimes from two pairs of mouths, two cocks, two pairs of hands, a mix and match of any of the previous things, sometimes from toys when you’ve been especially naughty or when the men are feeling particularly sadistic as they tie you up and force you to watch as the two of them go at it, cruelly laughing at how pathetic you look, whining and begging to be included as your usually dominant boyfriend is moaning like a whore while Bokuto shoves him face down in the sheets and fucks him thoroughly, cumming from the sight of Kuroo teasingly slapping Bokuto’s ass as the owl-haired man whimpers and moans as he rides your boyfriend’s cock.

But when you meet Daichi, you wonder if there’s something seriously wrong with you.

You have an amazing, loving, and devoted boyfriend. You have a wonderful friend? Lover? Whatever Boktuo is to Kuroo and you these days. And yet you can’t help the stirring of desire that coils within you when you meet the officer your boyfriend has spoken so fondly of for the first time, unable to look away from the warm brown eyes and the charming smile, eyes constantly flickering down and gaping at thick thighs, only being dragged to reality by Kuroo calling your name, guilt eating away at you every time hazel eyes affectionately look at you.

Were you that selfish? That desperate? One man...two men weren’t enough for you?

This shouldn’t be your reaction to meeting Sawamura Daichi, your boyfriend’s ex-lover and friend with benefits. You should be friendly, but apathetic at best, maybe even jealous and cold at worst. But you definitely shouldn’t be attracted to the man sitting beside you and engaging you in polite conversation. You definitely shouldn’t be so quick to understand exactly why Kuroo had fallen into bed with the brunette.

Unknown to you, feline eyes regard the scene in front of him in interest and a hint of satisfaction and surprise. Kuroo had been nervous about the two of you meeting, feeling unsure about even keeping up his friendship with the ex-Karasuno captain when he started dating you, never wanting you to ever have a reason to feel insecure or doubt his loyalty to you. But you had been so quick to reassure him, so understanding, so trusting when he had told you everything about his past relationship with Daichi, about how the two of them are still close friends. And he remembers to this day how you laughed in his face, pinching his lips together to silence him before flicking him on the forehead and telling him he could be friends with whoever he wants.

“I trust you, Tetsurou. Plus, if you did cheat on me, it’s not me you’d have to worry about. Good luck dealing with an angry Bokuto.”

He knows you had been genuine, but he had still expected some level of discomfort when you met Daichi. After all, he imagines meeting your significant other’s ex-lover is an uncomfortable situation to be in for even someone with the kindest of hearts. But he certainly hadn’t expected that familiar spark in your eyes when you shook Daichi’s hand and he definitely hadn’t expected to see that interest returned in brown eyes that trailed and lingered on your face, your body throughout the night.

Kuroo doesn’t believe in soulmates, but he thinks that you might just be the closest thing to it.

Daichi stiffens when a familiar lean figure corners him in a secluded hallway, a scowl already forming on his face as he prepares to combat Kuroo’s typical snarky comments. But he’s speechless, unable to form words from a suddenly dry throat.

“She’s pretty isn’t she? I noticed how you couldn’t stop staring at her all night.”

An apology is already on the tip of the officer’s tongue, shame swirling deep in Daichi’s guts at being caught, for not being able to better control his wandering gaze. But he sputters at Kuroo’s next words.

“She’s even prettier in bed. Bokuto can attest to that. Come join us and see for yourself.”

Daichi’s always thought of himself as an upright citizen, a morally sound human being. But even when they were younger, Kuroo had always managed to make him question just how straight laced he actually is. And he’s quickly realizing that even now, even almost an entire decade later, Kuroo hasn’t lost any of his persuasive sway over him.

There’s something incredibly strange about discussing having a sexual experience with your ex-lover’s new significant other, especially when it’s being done behind said significant other’s back and especially when it’s being brought up because you couldn’t stop staring at said significant other like a lecherous geezer. And Daichi is trying to shut down the idea before Kuroo can say anything else, trying to shove the taller male away to escape the stifling atmosphere.

But Kuroo’s always managed to get his way and his claws are out, already digging too far in Daichi’s soft feathery flesh for the crow to truly fly away.

“Your interest isn’t one-sided, Sawamura. Think about it.”

And Daichi does think about it, brown eyes staring up at his ceiling as he lays in bed, remembering every word the two of you exchanged, recalling every detail of your face, cursing himself for how weak-willed he is as he picks up his phone from his nightstand, swiftly sending the message before he can second guess himself anymore.

“I’m down.”

It’s just another typical night for the three of you and you moan on all fours, Kuroo’s hand twisted in your hair, forcing you all the way down on his cock until your nose brushes against his lower abdomen, tears streaming from your eyes as Bokuto’s calloused hands tightly hold your hips as he continuously slams into you from behind, making the bell attached to your pretty pink collar chime in a lewd melody. But there’s a brief pause as the doorbell rings and you gasp for breath, drool dripping from your mouth when Kuroo releases his hold on you, peering curiously in the direction of the front entrance as the ringing continues before quickly pulling on a pair of discarded sweatpants and exiting the bedroom, checking the source of the interruption.

The momentary distraction has you forgetting exactly what position you’re in, but you’re abruptly reminded that you’re not alone when strong hands haul you up until your back is pressed flush against a hard chest, one hand sliding towards your front, rolling one of your perky nipples between its fingers, the other hand gripping your waist and anchoring you as the cock inside of you resumes its relentless pace, gravity forcing the shaft even deeper inside of you as you have no choice but to completely bottom out with every bounce.

The flames inside of you are beginning to grow and build into a raging inferno as you’re driven closer and closer to a release and you can’t think of anything else except the huge cock inside of you, the deep grunts of the man behind you. But you let out a panicked whimper, nails clawing at Bokuto to slow down, stop, eyes going wide in disbelief when Daichi enters the room, followed closely by your boyfriend.

You feel so vulnerable as brown eyes gape at your tear and drool stained face, the rise and fall of your breasts, the way your lower half is lewdly connected and breached by the cock inside of it and you instinctively move your arms to cover yourself, only to whine when Bokuto’s hands firmly hold your arms to your side, admonishing you with a thrust of his hips. And Daichi thinks he might be drooling when he hears the instinctive moan you let out from the action.

It’s Kuroo who breaks the tense silence and your attention immediately snaps towards him when his comforting and familiar voice fills the room.

“I saw the way you two looked at each other that night you met.”

There’s already a protest and denial ready to pour from your mouth, but you obediently stay silent at the sharp look hazel eyes pin you with.

“I’m willing to let you two get to know each other better. But only if you want to, kitten.”

Your heart warms at the way his voice softens, hazel eyes peering into your soul, searching for any hesitation, fear, doubts, anything that would have him immediately ushering Daichi out. You’re still a bit apprehensive, nervous, but...You can’t deny the heat growing inside of you as brown eyes darken at the sight of you, as you’re unable to tear your eyes away from the growing bulge between those deliciously muscular thighs. And Kuroo laughs.

“Well, I’ll consider that a yes from you. I’d ask if you’re sure about this too, Sawamura, but considering this, I’m going to take that as a yes too.”

Daichi growls when Kuroo teasingly reaches down to palm the officer’s growing erection and your thighs clench at the sight of your boyfriend being forced into submission as Daichi’s hand grab him by the back of his unruly hair, eliciting a broken whine when the cat-like man is forced to submissively bare his neck as his head is forced back.

“Keep on running that mouth of yours and it’s you I’m going to be collaring and leashing tonight.”

You’re not opposed to the idea and you almost have half a mind to goad Daichi into following through with his threat. But suddenly brown eyes are back on you and you gulp as Daichi grabs the leash in Kuroo’s hand before stalking slowly towards you, obediently staying still and preening with pride as he gently cups your face and softly tells you how beautiful and well behaved you are, mewling in contentment when he attaches the leash to your collar.

Bokuto whines at being ignored, but golden eyes swoop onto your boyfriend who’s tugging his sweatpants back off and reaching for a bottle of lube as he winks at your athletic lover. And before you can even register what’s happening, Daichi and Bokuto are carefully lifting you up and now it’s your turn to pout at the empty feeling inside of you as Bokuto bounds towards the messy haired man who’s panting as he works a slick covered finger into his tight puckered hole.

But you’re not left to wallow for long when a sharp tug of your collar has you gasping and staring wide eyed at the man in front of you.

“Present for me, beautiful.”

The combination of the praise and authoritarian tone to his voice has you diving back down on the bed and you lay your upper body on the soft surface, arching your back more than usual, wiggling your hips in an enticing manner as Daichi draws near. But you yelp as a heavy hand sharply smacks your ass.

“I said to present, not be a fucking tease.”

You whimper, slightly unsure as you instantly still, so used to Bokuto and Kuroo always letting you get away with your cheekiness. But you sink into the warm touch as Daichi soothingly traces the curve of your spine, eager to please as his fingertips explore every inch of you, reaching beneath you to playfully tweak your nipples as he litters your back and neck with soft butterfly kisses, wrapping his body over yours as he grinds his hardening cock against your dripping hole.

Patience has never been your strong suit and despite how hard you try to stay put and let Daichi explore and map your body, you can’t help the desperate whimper and insistent swivel of your ass as you try to match his rhythm, meet every one of his controlled and shallow thrusts in a wordless plea for more. And you’re swiftly punished with a harsh pinch and twist of your sensitive nubs, squealing at the jolt of pain as teeth bite down on your neck.

“Fine. You want it that badly? I’ll give it to you. But don’t cry when it’s too much for you.”

You loudly wail when you’re suddenly being slammed into, nails clawing at your bedsheets as you try to find purchase, teeth biting down on the pillow below your head to ground yourself even just a tiny bit. But even that’s taken away from you and you let out a high-pitched keen as Daichi pulls on your leash, forcing your head to lift up and arch, forcing your jaw to drop open in a silent perpetual gasp as you suck in as much air as you can with leather digging into your neck.

“Let me hear how much you like it.”

It should be embarrassing, humiliating, falling apart so easily underneath a man who’s pretty much a stranger to you, who’s only had his hands on you for minutes, but it’s hard to feel shame when all you can register is the way he deliciously spreads you open, ruthlessly plundering you in a way that makes you feel owned, that makes your breasts bounce with every thrust, the tightness around your throat just more proof of how far you’ve let yourself fall. And Daichi smirks at the way your broken cries echo throughout the room, a wanton blabbering chant of “yes, like it so much, thank you” slipping past your lips

“God, you’re an even bigger slut than your boyfriend and that’s saying something.”

The reminder that it’s not just the two of you in the room has you blearily turning to look in the direction of your other two lovers and you moan at the sight of a white sticky trail leaking out of Kuroo’s ass, Bokuto’s large hand wrapped around both their cocks as he slowly strokes them back to life despite both of them having already cum, cocks already beginning to harden once more at the debauched image you make.

Daichi snorts at how hungry gold eyes ravenously stare at both of you.

“I see that you’re still as insatiable as ever, Bokuto. Our pretty girl does have two other holes you can use.”

That’s all the encouragement the owl-like man needs and you let yourself be maneuvered like a doll, moaning as you slip back down on Daichi’s cock, sloppily kissing the cop who’s now laying underneath you, finding comfort in the intimate connection as Bokuto slowly works your puckered hole open, focusing on Daichi’s hand gently drawing soothing designs on your back and your sides as one finger becomes two becomes three before the head of the athlete’s cock nudges at your fluttering entrance.

Daichi deepens your kiss, entangling his tongue with yours as he swallows your cry of discomfort as Bokuto slowly pushes, pushes, and pushes. It’s so much and you’re panting, heart racing when he finally bottoms out, mind going blank from the overwhelming fullness of being double stuffed, but you let the men lull you into a sense of security as Bokuto coos praises into your ears, softly kissing your nape and your back, as Daichi continues tasting your mouth, your lips, neither of them moving despite how tempting your tightness and heat are, letting you adjust.

But they share an amused smile when you finally shake their gentle touches off, snapping a bratty demand to get on with it at both of them, smirking when both men hiss when you teasingly tighten around both of them.

They’re quick to wipe that smug expression off your face and it’s their turn to smirk at you as you begin babbling incoherently, delirious pleasure making it hard for you to do anything except lay there as both your holes are ravaged. And Daichi stares in awe and pride at how destroyed you look, eyes rolling back and jaw hanging open as you slump down on top of him, only Bokuto’s strong arms keeping your hips lifted as both men continue thrusting in and out of you.

“Oya, oya? You’re so noisy, kitten. That’s very rude to our neighbors. Let me help you quiet down.”

Kuroo grabs the forgotten leash from the bed, hauling your head up as he wraps the material in his hand until your eye level with his cock, his other hand twisting in your hair and keeping you still as he rubs his pre-cum and length all over your face, mockingly laughing as your tongue instinctively lolls out to taste the delicious treat.

“Look at you. You really are just a silly pet, aren’t you? Open wide. I’ll give you your treat.”

Daichi and Bokuto groan at the sight of your drooling mouth being stretched and shoved down Kuroo’s cock, not even a hint of resistance as your boyfriend pushes you down further and further until your nose presses against his groin, barely letting you adjust before he sharply snaps his hips and laughs at how the three of you let out a chorus of moans from the way your ass and pussy tighten from having your mouth fucked.

“We’re going to use and fuck every one of your holes, kitten. And we’re not stopping until every hole is stuffed full of cum and we’re all satisfied. Understand?”

You don’t even get to garble a muffled answer around the cock inside your mouth before all three men are raring back to action and you really do feel like nothing but holes for cocks as all your holes are plundered, nothing controlled or in sync about any of their rhythms as they use you as a means to chase their own highs. But there’s something intoxicating about relinquishing all control, being used however they deem fit, focusing on the heady sensations of being completely full, and you can feel a familiar coil twisting and turning inside of you, can feel a telltale trembling in your thighs as the feeling grows and grows.

None of this goes unnoticed by hazel eyes staring down at you and Kuroo smiles as he reaches down to tweak one of your nipples, patronizingly petting your head as you convulse and shatter to pieces before resuming the snapping of his hips. Your twitching walls are all Daichi needs to join you in post-coital bliss and he snaps up one last time, emptying his balls inside of you before lazily sinking back down onto the rumpled sheets, holding your overstimulated writhing body in place as Bokuto and Kuroo continue their joint assault.

But it’s game over when the brunette slips a hand between your sweaty bodies, rubbing and playing with your clit in a way that has you seeing stars and wantonly shaking your hips and moaning as pleasure once again mixes in with the overwhelming sensations and Bokuto’s hands dig into your skin as he bottoms out inside of you, biting down on your shoulder as he fills you with thick white spurts, adding to the mess between your legs when he pulls out.

And now it’s just Kuroo and you and hazel eyes adoringly watch as you practically hump Daichi’s hand as his fingers coax another orgasm from you, throwing his own head back in pleasure as your moans vibrate against his cock when Bokuto’s hands find their way back to your breasts, rolling the perky sensitive buds between calloused fingertips once again. But he grits his teeth and waits as his rhythm becomes uneven, as his thrusts become more shallow, hazel eyes watching and waiting, watching and waiting, watching and-

He immediately pulls out of your mouth with a lewd pop as you’re forced to another peak, mouth opening wide in a silent scream, body twitching and spasming violently. And that’s all he needs to join you over the edge, moaning as he paints your face white, basking in the glow of his release as he takes in your glorious ruined state, something oddly warm and endearing swirling inside of him at the way Daichi and Bokuto are quick to cradle your exhausted body in their arms and lather you with praise and affection as he goes to draw a bath for you.

It’s crowded in your bed that night, the queen sized bed not meant to hold four full grown adults, and yet, as the four of you drift off into a peaceful exhausted slumber, bodies squished against each other, limbs sprawled all over the place, the natural joint body heat borderline suffocating, you can’t help but think that it somehow feels just right.

#haikyuu smut #kuroo x reader #daichi x reader #bokuto x reader #haikyuu!!#haikyuu #haikyuu fic #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu scenarios #kuroo smut #daichi smut #bokuto smut #Kuroo Tetsurou #sawamura daichi #Bokuto Koutarou

2K notes · View notes

dottielovegood · 3 years

Text

ASMR - Chapter 4

Elriel fanfiction

About this fic:

Azriel can’t sleep Elain has an ASMR channel Match made in heaven (or you know, on youtube..)

_______________________________________

You can find chapter 1 here, chapter 2 here and chapter 3 here

Read this fic on AO3

_______________________________________

The following week, Azriel read Elain’s messages too many times to admit. He had answered her that “meat banjo” was, indeed, a vile word, and after that, they hadn’t really talked or texted.

He had saved her number as “Elain”, which had felt weirdly private. As if they were friends, which they were not. He was just her friendly helper, and she was his remedy for nightmares.

However, even though they didn’t know each other, Azriel felt an odd sensation in his chest when he thought about her. If he didn’t know better, he would have thought that he was missing her, which was absurd. But the tight little knot in his chest felt very much like longing. He tried to tell himself that this was weird and stupid. He knew that he had a crush on her (even though he hated to admit it), but he could also see that it was a pointless crush. She was an internet sensation, he was a boring IT guy. She was light and happiness and flowers, he was dark and brooding. She made people smile, he made people uncomfortable. And then there was the practical side of things. They had met on the internet. She probably lived on the other side of the country. Hell, she could even live in a different country for all he knew. She might have a partner already - it’s not like he asked. And, last but not least, she probably didn’t have a crush on him.

Before talking to her on the phone, he had just thought that she was a pretty girl that deserved kindness. But after their phone call, he had definitely developed a crush. Which was another reason why he hadn’t texted her. He didn’t want to bother her and he didn’t want to have this crush. He wanted to stop feeling like this for a girl he would never see in real life. Yet, every night before bed, he found himself on her youtube page, watching one of her many videos.

She uploaded a new video to Youtube every Friday, so when Friday came around, Azriel was itching to get home so he could go to sleep (he told himself that he was looking forward to sleeping and not to seeing her face).

However, he had an entire workday to get through first. The office was mostly an open landscape and Azriel’s desk was next to Cassian’s. The only person with his own office was Rhysand, which was fair since he was the owner of the company. At two in the afternoon, Rhys poked his head out of his office.

“You guys are still coming for dinner this weekend, right?”

“Yeah,” Azriel and Cassian answered in unison.

“I told Feyre that I would help her with the food,” Azriel continued.

Rhys looked like he was going to kiss Azriel. “Oh, god. Thank you, man. I was scared that we would have to repeat the Christmas dinner,” he said and shuddered.

Feyre hated to cook and Rhys did most of the cooking at home, but for some inexplicable reason, she always wanted to cook for holidays or family dinners. To everyone’s dismay. Christmas had been no exception. She had burned the turkey, added salt instead of sugar to the dessert and somehow managed to buy the wrong berries for her cranberry sauce. Luckily, Rhys had been prepared and bought a few frozen pizzas and some ice cream, so the day wasn’t that much of a disaster, but nobody wanted to brave Feyre’s cooking again.

“Why don’t you just cook?” Cassian asked without looking up from his screen.

“You know that she kicks me out if I so much as go near the kitchen when we have these family dinners. And since she started the hormone treatment, she has been a bit bitchy when she gets mad, so I’ll just do whatever she says.”

Azriel chuckled. He could tell from Rhysand’s tone that Feyre had been more than “a bit” bitchy.

“I don’t understand why she lets Azriel help, though…”

“Maybe because she knows that I’ll tell her to sit down with a glass of wine and a magazine, and then she can take all of the credit for the food?”

“Fair enough.” Rhys shrugged. “Just burn the food a little bit, or it won’t be believable.”

Cassian snorted. “No one would believe that something edible was made by your wife. Sorry.”

“She does make a great green smoothie, though,” Rhys grinned and held up his glass.

Azriel and Cassian looked at each other and had to bite their tongues to keep from laughing. The smoothie looked vile and smelled even worse.

After a few more minutes of small talk, Rhys went back to his office for an important phone call. “See you on Saturday,” he reminded them before closing the door.

Azriel and Cassian worked in silence for the remainder of the day.

When Azriel came home that evening, he made a quick pasta carbonara to eat in front of the TV. He was re-watching New Girl. It was his comfort show and absolutely nobody knew that he watched it (and had watched it multiple times). He would take that information with him to the grave. But it was fun and cute and sometimes he liked to imagine his friends as characters in the show. Cassian was probably Schmidt, because Nesta was one hundred percent Cece. Feyre was Jess, which meant that Rhys was Nick. And then there was Azriel. He wanted to say that he was a very cool character, but most characters on this show weren’t cool, and also, he was definitely Winston. Alone with a cat - sounds about right , Azriel thought to himself as he finished his bowl of pasta.

When the episode ended he just waited for the next to start. He didn’t have any plans for the night and nowhere to be. His phone vibrated where he had left it on the kitchen counter. He ignored it, feeling too lazy to get up. But then it vibrated again. With a sigh, he got up. He expected to see a text from Mor telling him to bring wine tomorrow, or maybe a strange meme from Cassian. What he didn’t expect was to see Elain’s name on his screen.

He could feel his heart in his throat as he read her messages.

Elain Hey, Shadowsinger. I’m uploading a new video soon. You should watch it!

Elain I hope that message didn’t sound creepy? I just meant that I think you might like it.

Azriel’s hands were sweaty.

Azriel You didn’t sound creepy at all. Of course, I’ll watch your video. May I ask what I can expect from it?

Just seconds later, Elain answered.

Elain You can ask, but I might not tell ;)

Azriel Should I be worried?

Elain Haha, no! I think it turned out great. You were my inspiration :)

Azriel could feel himself blush. He had never been someone’s inspiration before.

Azriel So, I’m your muse? ;)

Oh god, was that too flirty? Was the winky-face too much? He wished that he could take back the message.

Elain For tonight, yes!

Azriel stared at his phone, unsure of what to answer. Luckily, Elain wrote to him again.

Elain What are you doing tonight?

Azriel Nothing. Just eating pasta and watching TV. How about you?

Elain That sounds amazing. I have been editing this video for hours so I’m just tired and cranky, haha. I have just ordered a pizza and I think I’ll just eat it in bed as soon as this video has finished uploading. What did you watch?

Azriel If I told you, I would have to kill you.

Elain Oh, intriguing! Is it trashy drama? I bet it’s Grey’s anatomy! Or maybe… Love Island?

Azriel stared at his phone. Did she really think that he would watch something like Love Island?

Azriel I watched New Girl, okay. Don’t tell anyone.

Elain Your secret is safe with me! Also, I love New Girl! Especially Winston!

It felt as if someone was squeezing Azriel’s heart.

Azriel Really? Which character would you be?

Elain My pizza is here so I am going to put all of my electronics in a different room and eat my pizza while reading a good book. It was great talking to you, Azriel! Please tell me what you thought of the video when you have watched it.

Elain Oh, and I would probably be Winston’s cat. lol

Azriel almost dropped his phone. If he had to be alone with a cat for the rest of his life, he would definitely want Elain to be his cat , he thought to himself. Which was a weird thing to think about someone you didn’t know. Azriel dropped his head to his kitchen counter and took a deep breath before replying.

Azriel It was great talking to you too, Elain. Enjoy your dinner and your book :)

She didn’t answer, but she didn’t have to. Azriel was going to be thinking about her for the rest of the night anyway.

30 minutes later, he got a notification telling him that Flower Girl ASMR had uploaded a new video. The video was called “ASMR for IT-guys”, which made him chuckle. He clicked the video and Elain’s beautiful face filled his screen again.

“Hello, my lovelies, lovelies, lovelies,” she whispered in her microphone. “This week’s video will be a bit different,” she continued, slowly moving her hands in front of the camera. “This video was inspired by my friend who recently helped me with some computer-related issues, issues, issues.”

Azriel loved it when she repeated words like that. And he liked that he somehow was a part of this video. It was something that connected them. Azriel paused the video and got into bed, knowing fully well that he would probably fall asleep soon if he kept watching this.

He pressed play again. “So, today, I thought that we would try a few computer-related triggers. I have a keyboard here,” she said and started typing on a keyboard that was out of view. “I thought that I would say a few trigger words while typing them.”

She smiled at the camera and pressed a few more keys. “I just wrote my friend’s name, but you won’t get to know who he is. But you know who you are. Thank you for your help!”

Azriel felt all warm inside.

She continued the video. “The first trigger word is IP address ”. Azriel laughed as she repeated the word multiple times while typing quickly.

“And then we have, laptop, laptop, laptop,” she continued, and Azriel felt shivers go down his spine when she popped the p’s.

Azriel had never thought that he would fall asleep to someone whispering “HTML coding” in his ears, but here he was. Relaxed and ready to sleep.

All thanks to Flower Girl ASMR.

━━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━━

The next day, Azriel texted Elain that he had loved the video. He waited for hours, but no reply came. Maybe she just wanted to repay me for helping her? Azriel thought. Maybe she would stop talking to him now that he had seen the video.

The thought of never talking to Elain again made him feel a new kind of ache in his chest. An ache he didn’t want to feel. This stupid crush needs to end, he muttered to himself as he started to scrub his kitchen counter. He tried to ignore the feeling by keeping busy. He cleaned his apartment and did some laundry before heading over to his friends’ house.

Rhys greeted him by the door and ushered him inside.

“She started cooking like 15 minutes ago, please save whatever can be saved,” he whispered to Azriel. Azriel chuckled and made his way to the kitchen. On the way there, he passed the living room and stopped to greet his friends. He saw most of them on a daily basis because of work, but he was still happy to see them. Cassian and his fiancée Nesta sat close together on one of the green velvet couches. On the opposite couch sat Mor and Amren. Mor was one of the journalists at Velaris News, and Amren was an editor. They had known each other for years. Amren and Rhys had studied together at university, and Mor was Rhysand’s cousin. Once upon a time, Azriel had a crush on Mor. One night after one too many glasses at Rita’s he confessed his feelings to her and she had looked horrified. He had expected her to tell him that she didn’t fancy him and leave it at that, but instead, she had blurted “I like girls!”

Azriel was the first person she ever came out to, and he had felt honored. He also knew now that they wouldn’t have worked out together in the long run (even if Mor had been straight). They were just too different. She was energetic and outgoing and fun, he needed peace and quiet. But she was still one of his very best friends.

Amren on the other hand, he didn’t know as well. She had always been very private, but she was damn good at her job.

“Where’s Varian tonight?” Azriel asked Amren, trying to make small talk.

“How should I know?” she answered quickly. “I’m not his mother.”

Cassian stared at her. “But you are his girlfriend?”

She shrugged. “I don’t like to label things.”

Nesta rolled her eyes. Amren had lived with Varian for the past two years, but she was still reluctant to tell anyone about their relationship.

Azriel made his way into the kitchen, and from what he could tell, he made it just in time.

“What are you making, Feyre?” he asked, because truthfully, he couldn’t tell.

Feyre turned around quickly as if he had startled her. “Oh, hi Az,” she said and wiped her forehead with the back of her hand.

Something was burning.

“I was trying to make lamb chops with glazed carrots, roasted potatoes, and salsa verde, but…” she gestured to the stove, which looked like a disaster.

Azriel chuckled. “That’s ambitious.” He lifted the lid from one of the pots and could clearly see that she had overcooked the lamb 10 minutes ago. Also, why had she made them in a pot, and not a frying pan? It would be inedible.

The potatoes were still in the sink, unpeeled.

She gave him a strained smile. “Will you help me?”

“Of course.” Azriel put the grocery bag he had brought with him on the kitchen island. “On one condition.”

“Anything.” She sounded desperate.

“Please, for the love of god, let Rhys cook when we come over. You really don’t have to show off. You are good at many things, Feyre. But cooking is unfortunately not one of them.”

She nodded. “I know,” she sat down on one of the stools at the kitchen island and buried her face in her hand. “I just...I need to be able to cook when I become a mother.”

Azriel took her hand in his. “You really don’t. Nobody expect fathers to be good at cooking, so why should every mother be good at it? Honestly, just let Rhys cook while you play with the kids.”

She smiled at him. “That actually sounds amazing,” she sighed.

“Right?”

Azriel started to pull out some ingredients from the bag on the kitchen island. He held up the tomatoes and the spaghetti, “How about some pasta arrabbiata with burrata?”

“Sounds fancy.”

He shrugged. “Everything sounds fancier in a different language. It’s just pasta with a spicy tomato sauce, and burrata on top.”

“Whatever you make will probably be better than that mess,” she said and glanced towards the stove. Azriel couldn’t disagree.

“Probably,” he laughed and got to work. Azriel placed all the pots and pans in the sink and started chopping the vegetables for the sauce, and in just 30 minutes, dinner was served.

“You are my hero,” Feyre said and kissed his cheek as she carried the big bowl of pasta to the dining room.

Everyone had already gathered around the table, wine glasses in hand. As Azriel sat down, Mor poured him some wine.

“This looks amazing,” Nesta said and Cassian nodded in agreement.

“Thanks, Az helped a little,” Feyre said and winked at Azriel.

“Just a bit,” Azriel said and took a sip of wine.

The conversation (and wine) flowed freely, as it always did. Cassian and Nesta told them about their wedding plans, Mor gushed about Emerie, a girl she was dating, and Feyre told them about life as a high school art teacher. Azriel would never understand how anyone could choose to spend their days with teenagers, but Feyre loved it.

After two bottles of wine, Nesta and Mor were in an argument about which animal was the cutest.

“No, I am telling you, Sloths are cuter than any animal ever,” Mor exclaimed. “Have you seen their dopey little faces?”

“Sloths? Really?” Nesta looked at her as if she had suggested that the sky was green. “Red pandas are way cuter! They are cute and cuddly, Sloths just look like every single stoner I went to high school with.”

They had been at it for 10 minutes, which Azriel found to be quite impressive.

“Can you both just shut up?” Amren gritted out. “The cutest animals are koalas. They’re even cute when they fight. I am right, you are wrong. Please stop this meaningless discussion before I die from boredom.”

Nesta and Mor looked at Amren, and then at each other.

“We obviously have to see Koalas fight if you want us to end this conversation,” Mor said.

Nesta nodded. “Obviously. Give me your phone, Az,” she said and reached for his phone.

“Why do you need my phone?”

“Because mine is dead and yours is right there on the table. Also, your screen is big and we need to watch this in full HD, for obvious reasons.”

Azriel huffed a laugh, unlocked his phone, and handed it to Nesta.

She clicked the Youtube app, and then her face fell. She looked at Azriel as if he was an alien, and then she showed the phone to Cassian who looked at him with the same facial expression.

What the hell had they found?

He didn’t have anything weird on his phone. And he sure as hell didn’t watch porn on it.

“What?” Azriel asked, and Nesta turned the phone.

Fuck. The last video he had watched was still loaded on Youtube, and of course, it was Elain’s latest video.

“What the hell is this?” Nesta asked, almost looking angry.

Azriel didn’t understand why she found ASMR so wrong, but he desperately wanted to explain himself.

“Well, it’s ASMR. It’s kind of… well, it’s hard to explain, but it helps me sleep and– “

Nesta interrupted him before he could finish. “I know what ASMR is. I am wondering why you are watching Elain?”

Azriel stared at Nesta in shock. Did she also like Elain’s videos? But that wouldn’t explain the anger and confusion.

“Do you...know her?” Azriel asked.

“Yes, we went to university together. She’s our florist for the wedding. She was the florist at their wedding, too,” Nesta answered and gestured towards Rhys and Feyre. “Surely you have met her?”

Azriel could do nothing but shake his head in confusion. If he had ever met Elain, he would have known. You didn’t forget a face like hers.

“Please tell me you’re not stalking her like some creep, Az. Honestly, her last boyfriend was the world’s biggest asshat.”

“I’m not stalking her,” Azriel blurted out. “I’m just watching her videos to fall asleep, I promise. I– I didn’t know that you knew her.”

Nesta eyed him suspiciously. “So, is this just a coincidence?”

He nodded. “Weirder things have happened,” he said, trying to lighten the mood.

Nesta glanced at Cassian, and then back at Azriel. “Fine,” she said after a small eternity. “You would probably be cute together anyway. Sorry for insinuating that you would be a stalker.” She really did look remorseful. “That wasn’t fair. I’m just very protective of her. She’s the nicest girl, but she has horrendous taste in men.”

Azriel couldn’t answer, because his mind was still stuck on the fact that Nesta said that they would be cute together. He wanted to ask Nesta why she thought that. He kind of also wanted to ask her if Elain lived here in Velaris, and what her favorite movie was, and if she, by any chance, had a boyfriend. But he refrained, he didn’t want to sound like a stalker.

“So, what the fuck is ASMR?” Cassian asked. “Is it like porn?”

Before Azriel could answer, Rhys said “It’s like porn for your ears, I guess,” and then the entire table was laughing.

“Nesta,” Feyre said when the laughter had died down. “Does Elain still have that cute, little shop on River Street?”

“Mhm,” Nesta answered and took a sip of her wine.

Azriel could kiss Feyre for asking. And if he wasn’t mistaken, he could see her wink in his direction before raising her water glass to her lips.

Azriel walked home that evening with a million thoughts in his head.

He made a list in his head:

Elain lived in Velaris

River Street was literally a 10-minute walk from his home.

Nesta thought that they would be cute together

This meant nothing

She probably didn’t even like him back

Just because they were in the same city, it didn’t mean that they would ever meet.

This was still just a crush

And it was probably one-sided

She hadn’t even answered his latest text message.

And as if on cue, his phone vibrated in his pocket.

Elain I’m sorry that I didn’t answer you earlier. I’ve been at work all day. We had a leak in the basement and everything was just chaos. I haven’t even checked my phone until now.

He mentally scratched number 9 from his list.

Azriel No worries! Did you fix the leak?

Azriel checked the time on his phone: 23.30

Had she dealt with this leak until now?

Elain Yes! But so many flowers were ruined (I’m a florist) and I had to remake a few arrangements for a wedding that’s coming up.

Elain I’m sorry. You probably don’t care. I’m happy that you liked the video :)

Azriel wanted to tell her that he did care. That everything she said was interesting to him. He would probably even find her Starbucks order fascinating. But that bordered on stalker behavior.

Azriel Again, no worries! Sometimes when you’ve had a bad day, you just need someone to vent to.

Elain Exactly! Thank you for letting me vent :) This day is finally over!

There was a selfie attached to the last message.

Elain was standing in front of a big window surrounded by flowers. She was wearing a white, oversized shirt and her hair was in a messy bun. She looked tired but happy. She was giving him ‘thumbs up’ in the photo and through the window, he could see the Sidra. They were indeed in the same city. It made him both happy and nervous.

Elain Sweaty but happy to be heading home :)

Azriel received that last message when he walked through the door to his apartment. What the hell was he supposed to answer?

But then he thought back to Nesta’s words.

You would probably be cute together.

So he took a deep breath and gathered all his courage.

Azriel You still look beautiful though

He stared at his phone. Would she answer? Would she block him? Would she tell him to stop being a creep?

Elain Thank you :) What do you look like? I might have forgotten ;)

Okay. That was flirty. Even Azriel could tell that that was a flirty text message, and he was usually oblivious to such things. He quickly walked to his bathroom (it was the room with the best lighting). He checked his shirt (no stains) and mussed with his hair.

“Good enough,” he muttered, and snapped a selfie.

Before he could chicken out, he sent it to her.

Within seconds, he received a reply.

Elain Beautiful!

#elriel #elriel fanfic #acotar fanfiction #acotar #elain x azriel #elain archeron #azriel x elain #azriel

81 notes · View notes

amiechuchu · 3 years

Note

do you do requests? :D can i request for a fluffy doctor!reader and loki? i love your mmaatib series btw!

anon!! you're making me BLUSH!!! thank you so much for your support! and sorry if this came out a bit late i was feeling a bit under the weather the past few days. i also apologize for any errors btw! as you can see, i am a very very tired student who just wants her fix of loki too :'). anyways, i hope you enjoy!

Summary: because of y/n’s incessant pestering, loki turns y/n into a cat hoping that it would give him a moment’s peace.

Warnings: none

Catastrophe.

Loki had become accustomed to the smell of disinfectants that linger in the medical wing as his visits became more and more frequent. Although he hated to admit it, he loved the company you were able to provide. Maybe a bit more than the shared solace your safe haven have provided for the both of you. Usually, the low hum of the air-conditioning filled the room’s silence along with the small conversations you and Loki had shared.

However, today was not one of those usual days. Today, you decided to reverse the roles, where you would be the one getting under Loki’s skin and Loki would be... Loki. Today, you decided that it would be fun to be the most annoying person in the whole Nine Realms. How? By disrupting the peace that graced this room, of course. You started off by imitating the Avengers to which he easily ignored. Then, you began imitating him, speaking of glorious purpose and whatnot, asking him to conjure his prized golden horns for you to use. Though the image that crossed his mind of you wearing his horns was temptingly adorable, his growing annoyance was far greater. Its evidence pointed at his deepening unamused pouty face.

The last straw for Loki was when you thought of imitating a variety of earth’s animals. You chirped, mooed, croaked, barked, and meowed. At that point, despite how much Loki loved hearing your voice, having a moment’s silence sounded so much sweeter to him. So, the God decided to turn you into the last animal you imitated... a cat. With a flick of his wrist, green swirls engulfed your form, and, in just mere seconds, you were transformed into a furry feline. A very cute one nonetheless.

You stood on your hind legs to admire your paws, mesmerized. Loki, on the other hand, looked pleased to see that your awe has taken over your sudden bouts of wanting to annoy him. He could finally read his book in peace, whilst stealing glances at your feline form every now and then to make sure that you don’t get into trouble.

You took a few steps forward and a few steps back to see how comfortable it was to walk on four legs. It seemed very unnatural to you at first, but you managed. After a few minutes of walking, running, jumping, and exploring the area with your new form, you were confident that you had mastered the basics of feline movement. Without a care in the world, you began to sing Loki a song... in cat... very badly. In which, the lyrics you uttered were literally just meow, meow, meow, and meow on repeat.

“Loki,” you said in attempts to get the God’s attention. To your surprise, a meow still came out. The evident shock in your furry face shown as your irises were enlarged and your mouth slightly open.

“Cats meow, pet,” Loki snapped at you, eyes still focused on the novel he was reading. “You know, for a mortal who treats people for a living and studies human physiology all their life, you don’t seem very smart. And no, before you even ask, I will not turn you back. ”

Ignoring his remark, you jumped up to the table where he was situated. This time you kept tapping on his hands. “Hey, listen,” you meowed wanting the God’s undivided attention. “Wait, how can you even understand me?”

Before Loki could answer, the doors to the medical wing were swung open, revealing your boss, the one and only Tony Stark. Great. Immediately, Loki’s face soured upon seeing the man. His face all scrunched up and pouty again. You, on the other hand, pretended to be a good little kitty and lie down on the table, acting all cute and innocent. Tony wouldn’t notice, right? No, he would. But, he wouldn’t care, right? Hopefully.

“Reindeer games, have you seen the, uh, doctor in charge here. They are about this tall, and probably the only person who hangs out here majority of the time?” Tony asked, as he made gestures with his hands trying to picture out your height. He took a few glances at you - the cat - on the table as your tail gracefully wagged to-and-fro. Although a bit confused, he decided not to mind it, thinking that someone - maybe even Loki - adopted the cat and let them in the tower. Not that he really cared at the moment. Currently, the only thing nagging his brain was finding his precious doctor to finish their research agenda. This was the first time you were late and that worried Tony more than he’d like to admit. He wanted to find you before an overprotective uncle Bruce could notice, and, honestly, racing against that time period was too pressuring, even for him.

“I haven’t seen them,” Loki replied, making shooing motions with his hands. A signal that he wanted to be left alone already. The God went back to reading his novel until Tony left to scour the entire building for you, muttering something along the lines of calling Doctor Strange if he couldn't find you at all. He knew that Bruce wouldn’t take it lightly knowing his niece was missing under his watch, so calling out the all-knowing sorcerer became his trump card in case dear old Brucie decided to kick his ass for losing you.

With Tony out of the way, Loki turned his gaze on you.

Actually, on nothing now.

Of course, you had to disappear for real this time.

An exasperated sigh came out of his mouth as he realized you ran away from him. It wasn’t long until the same sense of worry Tony had came over the God. Realizing his current situation, an anxious laugh managed to come out of his mouth. Look at him, Loki Laufeyson, God of Mischief, a literal deity, worried about the doctor who he turned into a cat.

At this point, panicked thoughts began to rival his own logical ones.

What if someone else had picked you up? You were in a form of a feline inside a facility that clearly doesn’t deal with any animals. It wouldn't be a surprise if someone took you. Undoing the magic with this situation in mind wouldn't bring as much trouble, right?

Loki thought of undoing the magic, but another thought popped into his head before making the decision. What if you were hidden in some cramped space just waiting for him to find you? He feared that undoing it while you were in hiding might be detrimental to your own safety. As much as you annoyed him, Loki wouldn’t want to see his favorite little physician hurt in any way.

Upon weighing all the pros and cons of the situation they were in, Loki decided to look for you the old fashioned way: by himself. Magic would be useless in this situation. Knowing you, any form of telepathic communication Loki made would just be ignored. Though he loved playing all types of games with you, this one only stressed him out. Taking a deep breath, he steadied himself and thought of the different places he would hide if he were you.

The God observed his surroundings as he decided to look for you inside the medical wing first. With you in feline form, you wouldn't have the strength to push open the doors, so he deduced that you wouldn't have gotten too far. Maybe you were under the beds, hidden in the shadows. Or even at the top of the shelves, away from plain sight. He began pacing through the whitewashed rooms, looking for more clues to narrow down the possible hiding places. Upon reaching halfway through the wing, Loki noted how the afternoon sun shone brightly, through the wide glass windows especially there at the far end of the room. Coincidentally, at the same area, he also spotted a seemingly occupied hospital bed with its curtains pulled all the way. The God took a few more steps as his brain continued to wire all the information together. Finally, it dawned on him.

That was perfect place for a catnap.

Loki crept towards the bed's entrance, careful not to make any sounds to alarm you. Anxiously, he peered through the curtains, mentally cursing himself for the crinkling sound it made. Gods, how he prayed to find you there waiting for him. Taking a deep breath, he made his way inside the secluded area to find... you basking under the sun in feline form, all curled up and asleep. Thank the Norns.

Your rhythmic purring quietly resonated throughout the area. A smile tugged at the edges of his mouth, relieved to have found you. Although he was jealous of the fact that the entire time you were just fast asleep, while he had to go through such an ordeal. And so, Loki climbed on top of the bed in the most quiet way possible. Although he was slightly unsure of his actions, he did it anyway. No one else was there, no one else would know. So, there he lay beside you, comfortable with a novel in hand.

It was not long until all the adrenaline in his system died down, and Loki too needed a nap of his own. He stifled a yawn, not wanting to disturb your peaceful slumber. As time passed, the God slowly drifted to sleep, and the magic that held your form was undone. Now, there you lay beside him, adorned by the golden afternoon sun.

Still in deep sleep, you shifted your position, attracted to the warmth the God had brought with him. Realizing the change in position, Loki, as if by reflex, took his arm and put it around the small of your waist in attempts to keep you from falling off the edge, to keep you close. His head nudged yours lightly, and there he stared, captivated, at your sleeping form. There he realized how much he really cared for you despite how much of a handful you can be sometimes. It just felt right for him to have you pressed into his chest, to have his arm around you, to have you right there by his side.

It just felt right for him to have you.

“Sleep well, my mischievous little doctor,” the God said as he placed a gentle kiss on your forehead before finally dozing off.

As the two of you blissfully slept, basking under the afternoon sun, somewhere around the tower there was a very angry Tony Stark, looking for the missing doctor. That didn't matter at all to Loki. The only thing that mattered to him then and there was you by his side, safe and sound.

It was enough for him that today didn't end in a catastrophe.

Taglist: @gaycatlord-stuff

#mmaatib #magic mayhem and all things in between #loki laufeyson #loki #loki x reader #loki x you #loki x y/n #loki/reader #loki/you #loki imagine #imagine loki

86 notes · View notes

misterewrites · 3 years

Text

Intro to Caitlyn 102 (Mirror’s Edge)

Hey everyone! E here with another chapter. been a busy week so this is a little late but with any luck I'll have the next underground chapter out this week or maybe another chapter for this story. dunno I'm just having fun in general. I hope you are all staying safe, wash your hands, wear your mask, get the vaccine if you can, keep each other safe! Feel free to tell your friends about this, reblog it or leave comments I'd greatly appreciate it. Trying promote myself is weird haha Stay safe and have a great week!

If you’d like an easier place to read the story, feel free to follow the link below

https://archiveofourown.org/works/30599756/chapters/76796408

Summary: Caitlyn has her target thanks to one Finnrick Drift and now it's time to break in. After she takes care a few things at home.

-----

Caitlyn sighed as she was unable to keep her eyes off the slivered hue butterfly hair ornament in her palm, the multi-colored glass shards wings stretched wide like it was ready to take flight.

It was beautiful, it was the perfect and it was expensive.

The sliver was real, none of that cheap painted copper or tin or whatever hairclips were normally made of. The different shards of glass had been painstakingly put into place, each fitting together perfectly like a completed puzzle which must’ve taken months to do by hand. And true to his word, she could feel the energy of this item, the magical thrum of its power. It no longer felt cold and distant but warm, light and carried a familiarity with it. It was strange to say but it was almost like the ornament was breathing in time with her. Like it was a part of her.

Of course it was, it’s freaking magic! Frankly magic could do whatever the hell it wanted apparently. The real question was what hidden power laid within.

Somehow in the back of her mind she knew how this thing was supposed to work: it granted her some kind of temporary movement. What that meant she hadn’t the slightest clue. She also knew it would only last an hour and would ‘refresh’ at every dawn. Because that’s a thing. And she knew the spoken word needed to activate it. Which of course meant the word was angel.

Caitlyn frowned, unsure what kind of joke this was. Finnrick had specifically called her angel twice: once when they first met and when asked what exactly the hairclip did. Clearly it was some inside joke he was in on. She just wished she was too.

“Hey Cat, you okay? You keep looking at the wall.”

Caitlyn shook herself out of her stupor and found herself staring at wide brown curious eyes that belonged her baby brother Lou.

Louis or Lou as he preferred to be called, was 7 years old (soon to be 8 next month). He had messy black hair with a cute button nose. He wore clothing typical of a child his age: A red shirt with a hero splashed across its front and baggy shorts. His sneakers were worn and frayed which reminded Caitlyn she really needed to get him a new pair. Between his chubby cheeks and the gap in his smile he was the cutest kid in the world. True he was a bit pudgy due to his lack of height though if he was anything like their father, he would grow to tower over her.

Caitlyn sighed sadly: two years and still no word of her parents. One day they just up and vanished. She used to think they had died through some cruel act of fate or misfortune. In her weaker moments, she briefly wondered if they just left Lou and her behind to start a new life.

But now, with the realization there was a whole magical world on top of her own, she couldn’t fathom what could’ve happened to them. Her thoughts were endlessly filled with possibility and none of them good. None of them made the pain hurt less.

She pinched herself as hard as she could. The sharp pain cut through her wandering mind and focused her back on the task at hand.

“I’m fine” She gave a sly smile “But have you finished your sandwich? A nice man bought it for you and I don’t want it to go to waste.”

Lou bounced up and down excitedly, pudgy hands tucked into a fist “Yes, yes I did! It was yummy!”

“Awesome!”

“Who was the nice man?” Lou asked quizzically, tilting his head to one side.

“Umm….” Caitlyn was torn: One hand she wasn’t quite sure where her and Finnrick landed on the whole trustworthy scale. On the other hand she couldn’t just say a random name. Lou had an uncanny ability to know when she was lying. Bordering on supernatural sometimes.

She glanced carefully towards her baby brother, searching for any sign of magic or mysticism in his chubby cheeks.

He scrunched his eyes wide and inched closer to her. She blinked, stumbling backwards at his sudden movement.

“I win!” He cheered with a bright smile “You blinked first!”

It took a moment for Caitlyn to process what was going on.

She laughed softly “Yeah kiddo. You win.”

“So what’s the nice man’s name? It’s not Jonas, is it? He was a creep.”

“Yeah he was.” Caitlyn awkwardly agreed. Her stomach churned unhappily at the thought of her ex. “No, his name is Finn.”

“Finn” Lou paused thoughtfully, eyes narrowed in concentration “Fiiiiinn. Finn! I like it! Fiiiiiiiinn. Can you thank him for me next time you two go out?”

Caitlyn rose a hand up no protest “Whoa, whoa, whoa slow down kiddo. We’re not dating.”

“But why not? You said he was nice.”

“I…” she glanced about the apartment wearily: Peeling paint, barely held together furniture and rent past due. So much work and effort for this ramshackle home.

“I don’t have time kiddo. I got to keep working if we wanna keep this place.”

Lou frowned, his face confused as if he couldn’t understand the word work “But you’re always working Cat. When are you supposed to have fun?”

Caitlyn ruffled his already messy hair lovingly “I’ll worry about that and you worry about having fun...and keeping up your grades.”

Lou’s ears perked up “What? Sorry, I think I hear Hedge calling me.” and without further warning, he bolted into his room, picking up his beloved turtle plush Hedge and dove under the covers.

Caitlyn couldn’t help but grin at his brother’s antics.

Then reality set in again.

She rather not deal with this newly found, barely understood magical world but regular folks weren’t paying the bills like they used to. Her fence was giving her less and charging more. Some bulltshit about paying off crooked cops or whatever. Sounded like a half ass excuse to her but they both knew she didn’t have much options.

Real gold. Any loose change from magical folks could easily lighten her burden and the promise of more sat in some entitled prick’s safe.

She couldn’t resist even if she had tried and she hadn’t tried to stop herself in years.

-----

Caitlyn waited till midnight to make her move. It was easier to blend in with darker shades and regardless of who she was robbing, she wasn’t in the business to make enemies. Especially enemies with unknown powers.

Lou was tucked into bed, nice and cozy with Hedge locked in his arms. Mrs. Palmer, a kindly older woman next door, agreed to watch him. They shared a silent knowing look with one another.

Her apartment was on the less than well kept side of town and everyone had their hands in some sort of shady business here. They tried their best to keep their noses clean but sometimes there were dips into less savory methods of getting cash.

Caitlyn was prepped for the mission ahead: A black blouse with black leggings. Thick black hiking boots for gripping walls and a leather black jacket to keep the cold and sharp pointy objects away from her skin.

She took a sad glance at the jacket, remembering all the times her father joked about handing it down to her when she beat him at arm wrestling. She could still hear dad’s hearty laughter echoing down the hall.

Caitlyn’s eyes hardened as she forced herself to look away “They left. No point in letting good gear go to waste.”

She took a deep calming breath as she ripped the tape off the butterfly knife she hid underneath her bed. She hated unnecessary violence but sometimes it took more than a good right hook to get someone off your ass. Better to have it and not need it than wind up with a bruise of regret.

She slipped the knife into her jacket pocket, slung her bag over her shoulder, nodded thankfully towards Mrs. Palmer and made her way out the door.

------

Caitlyn decided to take the long way: True it was halfway across town and took an hour of traveling but she always enjoyed the quiet that came with waiting. It calmed her, allowed her time to double and triple check her plans with the added benefit of shaking out any loose thoughts rattling in her head with each bump of the bus.

She stared at the beautiful ornate butterfly clip currently holding her ponytail up in the window. Caitlyn wasn’t sure what exactly Finnrick had given her but she didn’t want to use it at the apartment in case it didn’t do what it was supposed to. After all, suddenly having the knowledge in her head on how to work the hairclip was a bit unsettling. Okay really unsettling. Better to use it far away from Lou in case it exploded or something else nasty.

She got off the bus at last and hurried her way over to Andor’s, careful to cover her face whenever she spotted the odd store or traffic camera. She didn’t know who actually controlled them and she didn’t want to find out the hard way.

Andor’s Antique Shoppe (really cute elf boy) was the tallest building on the street: three floors that towered over the single story shops nearby. The street itself was nearly pitch black with a street lamp on either end of the block being the only source of light. Not a soul in sight.

Now was a good time as any to try out the hairclip. Caitlyn closed her eyes, exhaling slowly as she focused on the magical item. Goosebumps ran down her spine while the quiet, powerful thrum hummed softly in her ears. The word escaped her lips like it was second nature.

“Angel”

She nearly stumbled as a warm sensation filled her entire being. It covered her like a second skin and suddenly she was aware of the hairclip intimately: It’s weight, where it sat upon her head. She could feel the wings of the butterfly unfold, outstretched and ready to take flight. She heard the shimmering of magic forming into existence and she let out a surprised gasp when her feet lifted off the ground.

Caitlyn glanced in the nearby shop window, tears welling in her eyes:Beautiful translucent butterfly wings extended out from behind her. The outline of the wings were a deep rich purple with the multicolored glass stained shards gorgeously laid across its surface, each as elegant and refined as any art piece she’d ever seen. Each flutter and beat held her aloft, defying gravity’s hold on her. In the shadows of the night, the soft glow of the wings made her look like...

“An angel.” she whispered gently “I look like an angel.”

Caitlyn wiped the tears away. Technically she was a butterfly but this wasn’t the time for sentiment. She had a job to do and the longer she floated out here the more likely she’d get caught.

“Up” she murmured and the wings obliged: she rose silently skyward, each beating of the wings taking her higher and higher. The chill of the wind felt nice across her cheeks and she couldn’t help but relax in its presence.

Her original plan was to simply scale the side of the building and pick the window to gain entry but with her new found vertical movement, it was easier to just go up and over. She made sure she ascended from the end of the street and flew over to the third floor.

Caitlyn tilted her head quizzically as she found herself staring at a haphazardly open window.

“It can’t be this simple.” she narrowed her eyes suspiciously “It has to be a trap.”

-----

Caitlyn stood dumbfounded in the unguarded office of Andor.

She looked to her left then to her right, waiting for some sort of ambush to be sprung.

None came.

“Okay it is this simple.” Caitlyn whispered to herself, opting to just take this stroke of good fortune and run with it. She quietly willed the wings away and with a glitter of magic they vanished into thin air.

She crept over to the black safe tucked lazily in the corner, a stack of important looking documents just thrown on top without a care in the world. She quickly pocketed them and turned her attention to the roadblock in her way. True to Finnrick’s information, the safe itself was fairly simple and wouldn’t take much to break into. Either Andor was extremely confident in his security or really didn’t take being a crook seriously.

Not that it mattered to Caitlyn. It wasn’t her fault Andor hadn’t invested in a good safe.

She pressed her ear against the cool surface of the metal, trying to ignore the icy chill on her cheek as she strained to listen for the nearly inaudible click of the tumblers falling into place. It had taken two tries too many but she allowed herself a smug grin as the safe’s door swung open with a creak.

Caitlyn’s eyes narrowed at the sight of a funny symbol painted onto the back of the door. It gleamed with a strange unnatural light before disappearing all together. Before she could began to guess what bad news that meant, the shouts and thundering footsteps echoed from below answered her question.

“Shit.” She whispered as she began frantically grabbing everything she could: Folders, stacks of papers and clanging metal in heavy pouches. It all went into her bag with as much speed as she could muster.

The footsteps grew louder with a frantic pace. They were already on the second floor if she hazard a guess. Caitlyn made for the window and without a second thought, flung herself outside with all her might.

“Angel!” She hurried muttered but the wings were forming too slowly. She already crossed past the next floor down when they barely began to outstretch from her back. Caitlyn was no physics major but even she knew there was no way she’d be able to slow down in time to avoid breaking her neck. She shielded her face with her arms and tried not to flinch as she waited for the pain to set in.

It didn’t come.

Instead she felt herself slow to a stop midair and just stayed here. Caitlyn opened her eyes to find herself bobbing up and down inches away from the pavement. There were a pair of legs as well: Black slacks and well polished loafers with the bottom half of a black tattered trench coat.

“Falling for me angel? I didn’t expect it to be literal.”

She glanced up to found herself staring at the one and only Finnrick Drift before her, a cheeky smile on his lips and his hand held out.

Finnrick waved his fingers over her and she landed onto the sidewalk with a soft thud.

He offered her his hand but she preferred to scamper to her feet in the most ungraceful way possible. Her cheeks burned with a pinkish hue at the sight of the P.I.

“Thanks.” She couldn’t keep the embarrassment out of her voice “I….thanks.”

Finnrick nodded “Anytime.”

“WHY IS THE DOOR LOCKED?!” A voice roared from overhead.

“CUZ IT’S SUPPOSED TO BE YOU IDIOT!”

Realization knocked Caitlyn out of whatever was going on here but as she turned to make a break for it, Finnrick rose his hand to stop her.

She glanced at him, lost and confused.

“The favor. I’m calling it in.”

“What?! Here?! NOW!? You got to be kidding!”

“I kid about a lot of things.” Finnrick admitted “but not this.”

“We’re standing outside the place I just robbed! This isn’t the time!”

“Yes it is.”

Caitlyn took a step back and cast a suspicious look at the private investigator “You were using me, weren’t you? You didn’t want to get your hands dirty so you let me borrow the wings so I can steal the thing for you!”

Finnrick shook his head.

“Don’t turn this around on me!” Caitlyn snarled

Finnrick answered simply “You were clearly better at locks and sneaking around than I am. I was actually having trouble figuring how to pull this off. Every option ended with a fight with Andor. That’s why I’m out here. Why I busted every cameras on the street and managed to keep the window open. To make sure you were okay.”

“Where even were you?!” Caitlyn tried in vain to recall seeing Finnrick on the street “it doesn’t matter! You want me to trust you?! Just like that?”

Finnrick sighed tiredly “Please angel I trust you.”

Caitlyn’s eyes went cold “That is your mistake, not mine.”

Finnrick stared back at her, his dark brown eyes warm and gentle “Trusting you is my choice. Breaking it lays entirely with you.”

Caitlyn felt the rage and distrust drain out of her and replaced with a tense exhaustion.

Angel. He had let her borrow the wings and while there was no way he’d let her keep them he did give it to her for a favor. A simple favor he promised.

She sighed in defeat “What’s the favor?”

“I need a paper from the stack.”

“And if I give it to you, will you let me go?” She asked, hating how weak and vulnerable she sounded.

“No” Finnrick spoke without hesitation.

Caitlyn's shoulders sagged with disappointment.

“I will protect you.”

Caitlyn couldn’t help but stare at Finnrick: His face was scrunched up in a rather cute sense of determination and his body was relaxed. It was clear he was trying to be as nonthreatening as possible and despite her recent outburst, he seemed more concern with her than himself.

When was the last time someone offered to protect her? Granted she didn’t need any but even Caitlyn had to admit it was nice to hear.

They stood there for a moment, the angry shouts and cursing of Andor and his thugs breaking the silence of the night.

“Which paper is it?”

“It’ll be a single sheet with some fancy silvery writing on it.”

It took her no time to find it: It was thicker than all the others, written on some ancient paper that was aged yellow with time but was otherwise intact. The shining silvery writing was indeed fancy but nearly impossible to make out. She could actually feel her eyes water just looking at it and she wasted no time shoving it into Finn’s hand.

“There!” Caitlyn cast a nervous glance towards the third floor window “I kept my end. Now keep yours. Please.”

Finnrick said nothing. He instead tucked the loose paper inside his coat and offered a hand to her.

Confused but running out of options, she gingerly took his hand in hers. She flushed at how warm he was. Caitlyn let out a yelp as Finnrick pulled her in. She tried to keep her cheeks from turning a lovely shade of red when Finnrick held her close.

Finnrick began chanting, his hands drawing unseen symbols in the air. Caitlyn could feel the same warm sensation from earlier wash over her as Finnrick’s spell took effect.

-----

“FIND MY STUFF NOW!” Andor screamed with bloody rage. He was typical of an elf: Impossible well kept blonde hair that flowed to his back, piercing forest green eyes. He was tall and lean with the tackiest suit anyone had seen. Reds and pinks in some sort plaid pattern. He called it looking good. His goons called it a headache. His pointed ears twitch unhappily as he struggled to listen for any sort of sound nearby but found nothing beyond the usual quiet hum of the city.

Andor groaned unhappily as he made his way to the window. His eyes scanned the street with a clarity not even the most technologically advance camera could match. His elf eyes took in every detail through the shadows: every imperfect scratch on the brick buildings, the asphalt embedded with the grooves of tires, cracked sidewalks that spread out like bolts of lightning.

Nothing. Not a single soul was in sight. The silhouetted street was bare and empty.

“FUCK!” Andor screamed into the silence “FUCKING PIECE OF SHIT! FIND THEM NOW! CHECK THE FRONT DOOR CAMERA!”

“We can’t boss, it was fried yesterday, remember?”

Andor shut the window with a violent thud.

-----

Caitlyn let out the tense sigh she hadn’t realized she had been holding in.

She instinctively looked towards Finnrick only to find empty air.

“We’ll have to be invisible a little longer. They’ll be searching the shop before they think to start fanning outside. Andor will be making the process longer. Let’s get to the end of the street and I’ll drop it then.”

Caitlyn nodded for a moment before realizing he couldn’t see her

He guided her arm into his and the pair briskly walked down the street. It felt weird to walk invisible, arm in arm, while a childish elf baby raged behind them.

When they reached the end of the street, Finnrick dropped the spell. The two reappeared as quickly as they’d vanished. Caitlyn pulled away from the detective, her body shivering from the sudden lack of warmth.

“Thank you.” Caitlyn murmured softly.

Finnrick tipped his fedora “Any time sweetie.”

“What now?”

Finnrick scratched his chin thoughtfully “It is late and staying here would be a terrible idea. I suspect we both have places to be.”

Finnrick reached into his pocket and held out a piece of paper for Caitlyn to take. She stared at it, unsure what he was offering.

“It’s my fence.” He clarified with a smile “I take it you don’t know a magical one. He’s very trustworthy and he’ll give you a fair price.”

“Thanks” she took the slip of paper “I….thank you.”

“Any time. Good night angel.”

“Wait!” She reached for him but drew back when he turned to face her “Your hairclip? The one you let me borrow?”

Finnrick’s eyes twinkled with amusement “You didn’t hear me, did you? I told you that’s yours.”

Caitlyn could hear her heart thundering in her ears, cheeks ablaze “You sure? It seems like it costed a pretty penny.”

“Pretty amount of gold.” Finnrick corrected with a wink “And I’m pretty sure. I made it for you.”

“Why?” The question slipped out of her mouth “Why me? You barely know me.”

“Not true.” Finnrick nervously bit his lip “You barely know me. I’ve been waiting for you forever now. About five yearsin fact.”

“Me?” Her blush worsened “I don’t understand.”

“You will.”

Finnrick took her hand in his once more and softly kissed it. Caitlyn could feel a flutter of butterflies fill her stomach.

He hesitated to break his hold on her but he did so respectfully. Caitlyn could see his cheeks tinged with a pinkish hue as he began walking away.

Caitlyn stood there and watched the detective vanish into the night.

-----

Okay, so she didn’t just stand there dumbfounded as Finnrick walked away. It was probably a terrible idea and definitely not normal Caitlyn behavior but she followed him.

It wasn’t too hard given her newfound verticality. She just waited a few minutes, noted the direction he was heading and flew over the rooftops. Finnrick didn’t seem to be aware he was being followed. He walked the darken streets of Newton Haven, gesturing to the odd person or mythical being cloak in the darkness. His pace was casual and unsuspecting.

Her concerns about running out of time were unfounded as about 30 minutes later, Finnrick ducked into a fairly decent apartment complex. It was better kept than hers but only by a fraction.

A dark apartment on the third floor was suddenly flooded with light as Finnrick Drift made his way inside. He hung his coat and fedora at a coat rack that stood by the door. The apartment was itself humble: he had a battered desk placed by the window, his tiny kitchen was on one side and the door to his bedroom on the other. There was a large file cabinet next to a battered, ancient fridge. Not the place of a well paid private investigator.

Finnrick sighed tiredly as he rolled up his sleeves. The way his body hunched over with the slow debilitate movements he made, it was obvious he must’ve been exhausted. But whatever he was up to must’ve been important because he began drawing on his lovely wooden floor.

Caitlyn couldn’t really guess what the detective was doing beyond the shape he was making: There was a large outer circle and a much smaller one within. An array of symbols were drawn between the two circles such as stars, a crescent moon, squiggles shaped like trees with a language she didn’t understand.

It didn’t take Finnrick long to finish. He stood at full height, wiping the sweat from his brow as he reached into his pocket and pulled a baggie. Carefully, he opened the bag and pulled out a sliver thread that seemed to shine even at this distance. He placed it within the smaller circle and outstretched a hand like he was grasping at something. His eyes, normally a warm dark brown, glowed with blue arcane power. Magical symbols formed before him and the building groaned and creaked like the mere presence of magic commanded it to speak. He lit a match, his lips moving more and more wildly yet no sound could be heard from within. Finnrick closed his hand into a fist and the symbols sunk into the circle. He flung the match onto the sliver thread and the entire glyph blazed with fire for moment. There was a flash of a brilliant light and the circle had vanished only to be replaced by some strange figure.

She was much taller than Finn, so tall in fact the top of her head nearly scraped the bottom of the next floor up. Her hair was wispy, thin threads of sliver that reached to the bottom of her feet. Her skin was pale like moonlight and two dark sunken pits formed her eyes. Her frame was lanky and unnatural like someone had pulled and stretch her into her current form. Her clothes were torn and ragged.

The figure tiled her head curiously at Finnrick who dug into his pocket and pulled out the yellowed paper Caitlyn had given him. The figure was dumbstruck as Finnrick handed it to her with a warm smile. He offered a match to the creature but she shook her head. She gingerly held the paper in her hand, staring at it like was about to vanish into thin air.

Then she ripped it. She tore at it with a fierce, terrifying frenzy. She ripped and ripped and ripped until impossibly small bits of paper rained across the apartment. Caitlyn leaned closer as previously unseen shackles formed upon the figure’s wrist and cracked wide open. They slipped off and vanished into the air.

The figure let out a manic laugh as she shrunk, her limbs realigning themselves until she looked like a proper human sized person only a head taller than Finnrick. Her thin wispy hair fattened to thick, full braids of metallic silver. Her skin remained pale but her dark sunken eyes turned a coal black, full of life and joy. Even her clothes had transformed into a splendid elegant dress that sparkled like stars.

She cried, clear streams of water running down her face as she held Finnrick’s hands tightly. She wailed and shook, unable to keep her emotions in any longer. Finnrick let her, giving only a satisfied grin in response. She handed him a handful of gold, 3 maybe 4 pieces and began patting her dress as if looking for more. Finnrick stopped her, pocketing the gold and shaking his head no. The creature was not satisfied by this and began to gesture wildly about. Finnrick remained steadfast. He gestured to himself, lips speaking but Caitlyn couldn’t read whathe was mouthing this far away. The figure said nothing as a small child matching her skin tone appeared from out of nowhere. The child gestured to his wrist excitedly though nothing was there. The figure scooped the child in her arm and gently kissed his forehead. She glanced to Finnrick and was gone. A gentle warm breeze sailed past Caitlyn’s hidden spot, dispelling the frigid 2 a.m. air.

Finnrick chuckled to himself and despite on the verge of collapsing, made his way to the kitchen. He remained there for a few minutes and reemerged with a steaming cup of those instant noodles found at the store. He made his way over to the window and lifted it open. He placed the foam cup on the fire escape and hastily wrote a note which he folded carefully next to the food.

And with his job seemingly done, he made turned off the lights with a flourish of his hand and made his way to his bedroom. He closed the door and did not reappear.

Caitlyn flew over with the few minutes she had left in her wings. She picked up the cup of ramen, contently sighing with its warmth. She grabbed the note and read it aloud, curious what Finnrick wrote.

Caitlyn felt a chill of run down her spine as she read “Hey! Noticed you watching me and given you didn’t try to attack me, I assumed you had your reasons. If you’re trying to track me for your boss, here’s your warning! I will destroy everything they hold dear. You possibly included. If you just were a person or fae that was just curious, have a warm meal on me! It’s cold out so bundle up. Have a good one and don’t touch the window. I am a powerful warder.” F- :)

Caitlyn couldn’t stop the grin from spreading across her lips as she saw the cute smiley Finnrick had ended the note with.

She held the cup close as she made her way to street level. Finnrick told her she’d understand in time. She wished she understood now but she shocked to find herself more than willing to find out.

#Mirror's Edge #My story #Original Work #original story

18 notes · View notes

calligraphist-artemisia · 3 years

Text

This Could Be the Start of Something

Written for the Kidge Spring Event!

Prompt 4: Rose or Carnation | Free Day

Summary: AU - Canon Divergence. Pidge hears the sound of voices late one night and creeps downstairs to investigate. Who would have thought that would lead her to a new friend?

Also posted on AO3 under the username Kishirokitsune

❀ - ❀ - ❀ - ❀ - ❀

Katie felt as though she had only just laid her head down to go to sleep, soothed by the sound of her father reading a bedtime story, when all at once she was wide awake. She laid in bed, mystified over the reason why she was no longer asleep and was about to close her eyes when she heard an unfamiliar voice coming from downstairs.

As quietly as she could, Katie slipped out of bed and padded across her room, gently pushing the door open so she could hear more clearly. Maybe it was just her parents listening to TV? They usually turned it down for the night, but it could be that they forgot. She held her breath as she listened, picking up first on the voice of the stranger and then, a little more clearly, her father responding.

There was someone else in the house!

But why? It was so late at night. They never got visitors that late!

Katie looked down the hall at her brother's room, wondering if she should go and wake him up, but quickly decided against it. Matt could be kind of grumpy when she woke him up before he was ready. He'd probably think she was being silly.

She would just have to solve the mystery on her own.

She crept down the hall to the stairs and slowly made her way down, listening all the while to make sure none of the grown-ups were moving around. It sounded like they were in the kitchen, which was perfect for her because she could even look in from the window cut-out at the bottom of the stairs and see who was there without getting seen herself. (She and Matt had practiced a few times to get the angle right, so she was pretty sure she could do it.)

Katie stayed close to the wall and very slowly moved into position until she could see her mom and dad, as well as a strange man with dark hair all sitting around the kitchen table. She listened for a moment to try and figure out what they were talking about, but it all sounded kind of boring and adultish.

She was about to turn around and go back upstairs when her mother said: “Travis, I wish there was some way we could help you and Keith, but we're too much in the public eye to take him in if anything were to happen.”

Keith? Who was Keith? Why would they need to “take him in”?

Katie tried to see more into the kitchen and find out if there was anyone else in there with them but wasn't able to see anything else from where she was. It would be risky, but she would have to crawl beneath the window and peer around the wall instead.

The question was: was it worth the risk of getting caught?

Katie took a minute or so to decide and eventually figured it was worth taking a chance. What was the worst that would happen if she got spotted? Maybe a brief lecture while her mom took her back upstairs?

She was about to make her move when she heard the sound of a chair scraping across the floor. She froze in place, her heart beating hard in her ears, as she heard a quiet, indistinct voice ask... well, something that she couldn't make out, followed by her mom saying: “It's just up the stairs, dear. First door on the left.”

Katie nearly tripped over her feet as she turned and hurried back up the steps, avoiding the spots she knew would creak and alert her parents. She probably wouldn't be fast enough to avoid being seen by whoever was coming up the stairs, but if she was in bed and pretending to sleep, then no one could prove that she'd been up. (She felt only slightly bad about lying, but it wasn't like it was a bad lie! She wasn't hurting anyone. She just didn't want to get lectured.)

She made it to her room and began to shut the door, but at the last minute left it open just enough that she could see who was coming upstairs.

It turned out to be someone who looked to be around her age, wearing a sweater with a deep hood that obscured their face from view. They stopped at the top of the stairs and looked to the left where the bathroom was located and then, as if they could sense that Katie was watching, looked directly at her door.

Their eyes seemed to glow in the dim light, not unlike a cat.

Katie held her breath for a moment, wondering what they would do next, and was somewhat disappointed when they continued on to the bathroom and shut the door.

What next?

Her curiosity was far from satisfied – she still didn't know if they were the “Keith” mentioned by her parents or why they would need to take him in. Why were they visiting so late at night? And what was with wearing a hood while inside?

There was only one way she would be getting answers to those questions and that was by asking, so Katie opened her door and took one step into the hall, where she waited for them to leave the bathroom. She wouldn't stop them if they didn't want to talk, though she'd be really disappointed if they went back downstairs without saying anything to her.

She stood up a little straighter when she heard the toilet flush and then the sink turn on. Nearly a minute later, all sound stopped and the door opened.

“H-hi!” Katie squeaked, suddenly overcome by nerves.

They stopped and stared at her. “Why are you watching me?”

“I'm sorry!” Katie blurted out. “I didn't mean to! I heard voices and I was curious... Mom and dad don't get visitors this late. I, um, I'm Katie.”

They seemed to relax a little at her response. “I'm Keith.”

So he was Keith. That was one mystery solved, but she still had so many questions! Katie fidgeted, not wanting to blurt them all out at once and scare him away. She'd heard other kids in her class talk about it enough, sometimes saying it directly to her face, and she knew she needed to slow down and give others the chance to understand what she was saying, but it was hard!

“I should go back,” Keith said, though he made no move towards the stairs.

It struck Katie as odd at first, but then she wondered if he was just as curious about her. “Or you could stay here,” she blurted out. “With me. We can talk. Or play a game. Or... I mean, we could just hang out. It would be kind of like a sleepover, but not at the same time. I don't know. I've never had one. I mean, I've got Matt, but he's my brother so that doesn't really count, you know?”

“Uh...”

Katie sheepishly ducked her head, feeling the warmth of a blush spread across her face. “Sorry, I know I talk a lot. You don't have to stay here with me.”

“I've never had a sleepover either,” he said, much to her surprise. “I don't think... I'm not allowed to. I should go downstairs.”

Thinking quickly, Katie said: “But if your dad's asking my mom and dad to take care of you, then that means you're allowed to have sleepovers with me!”

Keith tilted his head to one side as he mulled over what she'd just said. “Maybe? It's just... I'm not... I'm not normal.”

“You look normal to me,” Katie said with a dismissive shrug.

When she looked back on that night years later, Katie would always identify that statement as the one that truly paved the way towards a momentous friendship capable of withstanding any hardships thrown its way. At the time, however, it was just a single step towards getting to know the mysterious boy who was a little lonely, just like her.

Keith joined her in her room, where they sat on the plush rug in the very center, and Katie showed off the glow-in-the-dark stars that were plastered all over the ceiling. To her delight, Keith recognized some of the constellations that her dad had painstakingly mapped out, and was even able to name them!

“My dad takes me out to go stargazing sometimes,” Keith admitted shyly.

“You can't tell anyone, but sometimes me and Matt go sit on the roof with his telescope to try and see more stars. It's kind of hard here in the city, but we manage,” Katie told him. She bit her lip as a new question floated to mind. “Do you know why your dad is here talking to my parents?”

Keith nodded. “Uh-huh. It's 'cause he's a firefighter. He was just doing desk work for them for a while, but they want him to go back out and help people and he agreed. But it's dangerous and if anything happened to him, there isn't anyone around who can watch me.”

“What about your mom?”

“She's... gone.”

Katie picked at the long fibers of the rug, unsure of how to respond to that. “Well, what if I talk to my mom and dad and tell them you should stay with us! I know they said we can't, but I don't see what the big deal is.”

Keith said up suddenly, both hands raised to keep his hood in place. “I told you, it's because I'm not normal.” He paused for a few seconds. “Can you keep a secret?”

“Of course I can,” Katie responded as she sat up as well. She held out her right hand with all fingers except her pinky curled in towards her palm. “Pinky promise!”

Instead of looping his finger with hers, Keith pushed back his hood in a fluid motion. He slowly twisted to face her, his eyes downcast as he waited for her reaction.

For a moment, Katie was rendered completely speechless. She'd been ready to protest that of course he was normal, but that was proven wrong in an instant. His skin wasn't only dark, it was purple and he had a pair of vertical, pointed stripes rising up from the underside of his jaw. His eyes really did reflect gold in the dim lighting and she wished she could see what color they really were, but that thought flitted away when she noticed his pointed, almost elvish ears, and the fact that his hair faded out to a brighter shade of purple near the ends.

“You're an alien?” she whispered. “Omigosh, this is so cool! I've always wanted to meet an alien, but all of the kids at school say they aren't real! This is the best secret ever! I promise I won't tell anyone else. Not ever!”

Keith lifted his head, his eyes wide. “You really don't mind?”

Katie emphatically shook her head. “I think it's really, really cool! Can I ask you some stuff? You can say no if you don't want to tell me.”

“I, uh, don't really know that much,” Keith said, sounding flustered. “I grew up here on Earth and my mom didn't talk a lot about what it's like, you know, out there. I know she liked it here because of how peaceful it is. I think... I think there's some kind of war happening, but it's really, really far away, and that's why she had to leave. She's out there. Somewhere.”

Katie wasn't going to let the news that he grew up on Earth dampen her spirits. He was still an alien! Or, well, half alien, which made him super awesome in her opinion.

As she asked whatever question popped into her mind, they slowly laid back down on the rug. Questions gave way to sleepy remarks and jokes that left them both giggling until slowly Katie drifted off to sleep with a smile on her face.

Keith turned his head to watch her, marveling over the fact that he had found someone who wanted to be friends. And slowly, he too faded off into the realm of dreams.

#voltron #kidge #kidgemas #kidge spring event 2021 #fanfiction #in which pidge and keith meet as children

18 notes · View notes

marshmallowprotection · 3 years

Text

Reverse AU

She didn’t know what it felt like to take a break.

Well, perhaps there was one point in her life where she knew what they felt like but honestly, she wasn’t going to let herself stop. Her goal was the obliteration of everyone that had ever spurred her to rot in Hell. Her blood boiled every time that she thought of all of the ways that she’d been hurt.

And?

It made her want to destroy everything that hurt her to prove that she was stronger, no, that she was better than the rest of them. She would survive and prove that she was always meant to be on top in the end. It was her promised destiny, the will of paradise, the very scorch of the earth that she’d been given a new chance on, and she wouldn’t lose this chance.

Her head ached, but there could have been a few reasons for that. She figured off the top of her head that it was the need for another bottle of elixir, and her second guess was the fact that she hadn’t had any rest since her target had been chosen. He was meant to go to the apartment and trick those damn fools.

He was meant to make them bend and break with his sincere smile and—

Her fingers paused against the keys, staring deeper at the CCTV camera of her target as he continued about his day. He had such a lovely face. He sought to find an identity outside of his twin brother, and his attention brought him to dress like such a prince. It made her heart flutter every time she thought of his handsome features.

He was perfect.

He was going to make everything work.

And yet, she clicked her tongue distastefully. She didn’t want to share him. She didn’t want to send him into the lion’s den with those fools. Whenever she envisioned him with any of them, it made her blood boil even hotter in a room that was meant to be chilled to keep her from falling asleep. He was better than those liars… than that bastard.

She didn’t want to share.

She…

She thought of her Savior, what he would think if he knew what she was thinking, and yet, at that moment, she felt drawn to do something that would get her into trouble. However, if she played her cards right, she could keep the cute prince and manipulate his brother to go into the apartment instead since he wouldn’t be the wiser.

It might be enough to spurn them to give up in the future if they got close enough to his brother, and then she could manipulate them all one by one until they crumbled beneath the Savior’s feet once and for all.

That way, paradise could be… united, in the future.

“Yes, that’s it, that’s what I’ll do, it could work,” she cocked her head as she watched him check his phone, not knowing what was going to happen to him very soon. “I’ll destroy them… I won’t have to share you to do it… haha… haha… hahahahaha! I can get you to help me another way from my side… Savior will understand. He always does.”

He had saved her when she was so scared and lost, and she now hoped to do the same for someone that she saw herself in. Paradise was welcoming to all, and even if it meant more work for her, she wouldn’t care. As long as she had him, as long as she had paradise, as long as she had her goals, then it would be alright.

She had to act now when her prince was alone… and she had to do it without informing her Savior, but she was far too excited to stop now that the thought occurred to her. She was the strongest, she was the most trusted member of paradise. She wouldn’t face punishment for furthering their goals, she would be praised.

Praised as she deserved…

The thought of those mint eyes looking upon her with pride was all that she wanted.

“Wait for me, my darling… our paradise awaits.”

—

“Hey, what’s with that face? You don’t think I’m going to do something horrible to you, do you? I swear I’m not some creep,” the look in her eyes didn’t make that nervous smile on her lips. “I swear, I promise.”

It was almost unnatural how her eyes glimmered with a mint glow to them, but it drew Saeran in for some reason. She beckoned him forward with that friendly smile of hers and he felt compelled to listen.

It wasn’t like him.

Well, that is to say, it wasn’t like him to go out on a limb for someone he didn’t know well. Sure, he was kind, and many people would say that he was too selfless of a person but that was why he had answered this girl’s text message after he had found a lost phone.

Her brown-locks were curly and a bit fringed in front of her eyes, it seemed a little messy but it was a windy day. She was foreign but she had a good grasp of the language. A jacket hung loosely from one shoulder, and a pink cropped tea covered most of her top with just her abdomen showing before it edged into her jeans.

What stood out about her the most was the almost unnatural glow of her eyes. If he hadn’t had the confidence to meet her gaze, he would have missed the almost cat-like quality of the emerald green in her forest eyes. He wondered if it was because of contacts. He wore some sometimes to make his outfit more cohesive.

She was starkly contrasted against him, with the pink vest he was wearing and the long bell sleeves of his top. She didn’t seem to think he was out of place nor did he think that of her. It would be brazen of him to call her style strange when they both pushed against society. They were on opposite ends of the spectrum.

Those that rebelled against the common culture with something that made them feel good. For some people that meant that they wore as much leather and shredded jeans as they could, and for others, it meant that they wore enough frills to counter the universe with a smile on their face. She was a punk and he was more princely.

He wasn’t one to judge others.

“No,” Saeran said, simply. “But, you know how it is with strangers these days. Everyone is always very wary of others.”

Though, he didn’t budge from his spot. It wasn’t like she posed a threat to him, she was barely five feet tall. He was nearly a head taller than her and even if she tried something, he doubted she’d get very far if she was a threat to him. She was too small, too lithe, and too sincere over the phone to seem like she may try something.

She flashed her lashes at him and held out her hand to him with injured fingers. There were braces on her joints and carefully wrapped fingers as if she’d worked too hard.

Something in her eyes lit up again as she giggled. “Yeah, you’re right. I guess it was pretty silly to get so worried about finding my friend’s phone like that. It was nice of you to offer to return it to me. Thank you so much for bringing it back to me, you’re such a prince. I appreciate it.”

“It was no problem! I was on my way to meet someone anyway, so it wasn’t out of my way,” he said. Against that unease, though, he could feel his heart speed up at the way that she had complimented him. It wasn’t often that someone spoke to him in a way like this or looked at him with intrigue and interest.

He pulled the phone from his pocket and looked down at it once more. It did strike him as odd that the device was… barren. There was not a thing on it except for a messenger app of all things. He wasn’t going to question what sorts of things people were doing these days but it did kind of bug him to think that it could have been something weird.

Instead of grasping the phone, her fingers pressed tightly against his own over the device. Her hands were ice cold, almost as she had been locked in a deep freeze for a few hours. She was impossibly close now, peering up at him like a very curious kitten.

A part of him wanted to shrug her hand away from his but her eyes had him haunted.

“You know, you have much prettier eyes in person,” she cooed as his body went stiff. In-person? Did that mean she had seen him before? “I love them… they’re golden. They remind me of the honeysuckle that I’d grow around my home when I was a little girl. Or, wait, the deep glaze of honey from the bees fresh from the hive. It’s you... it’s you, you’re the perfect assistant.”

Saeran was very concerned now because she was speaking about him as if she had seen him before. He wanted to wrench his hand away from her but she was a lot stronger than she looked, believe it or not. Or, maybe he was just a lot weaker than he thought. What was she talking about? What was she trying to imply?

“Excuse me?” he asked, his voice light and unsure. “What are you saying?”

The caramel sweet that had once been her laughter had now had the taste of a pan filled with burned sugar. It was so sweet that it seemed wrong. She cocked her head, “Oh, right. I forgot, prince-y is so too naïve for his own good but that’s my favorite thing about you. You see, I was going to make you play a little game for me but… I just decided I don’t want to share you with them… with him.”

What?

Saeran shook his head, “I don’t know what you’re talking about, but I’m not—”

“Did you think you had a choice, prince? Oh, that’s so cute!” She countered, her eyes narrowing to a slit, and her hand simply pulling him harder. “Don’t worry. I’ll be taking you to paradise. Doesn’t that sound sweet? It’s much better than what you’ve been subjected to out here… ignored… neglected, and treated like a doormat by everyone around you. I want to give you the world.”

Saeran shook his head, but there was no arguing with someone that was hiding a weapon stashed in their coat pocket. He could see it, and she knew that he’d seen it. She was armed and there was no way in Hell that he was going to fight that. “What makes you think that you’ll get away with that sort of thing? There are cameras all over the place.”

It doesn’t matter if he’s bigger than she is.

That took away the middle man.

Her smiled widened. “Not much point in cameras if you can hack their feeds to loop the same five minutes over and over again, prince. So, what do you say, are you going to come with me to paradise? Or are you going to make this more difficult for the two of us? Trust me, I don’t mind being cruel with what’s mine but… I don’t want to have to hurt that porcelain face of yours. It’s too precious for my goals.”

Saeran looked around at the street as it was emptied.

Nobody was around and nobody could do a thing about this. Those cameras… she’d… hacked them? There was no way she had been able to do that, but here she was. What was this even? Had this all been planned from the start? His mind wandered with thoughts that they shouldn’t as he knew that he was trapped like cornered prey.

“You know that I could just run right now, don’t you?”

“Wouldn’t you have already tried if that was the case?”

“...”

“Poor little prince, don’t worry about it. I’m just trying to help you. I know all about you, I know all about how you feel miserably abandoned by your brother… desperately trying to gain attention from the world that ignores you. You’ve been lost for so long… haven’t you? Trying to get by with your smile and faith but it’s exhausting…”

“You don’t— You don’t know anything about me.”

How could she?

Hackers could learn anything and everything about your life if they wanted, right? Was she trying to bluff to get inside of his head? He stiffened at the mention of his brother, not wanting to fixate on the thought.

He was in the middle of a dangerous situation, this wasn’t the time to focus on Saeyoung or that problem! He could worry about that later when he had the time, this girl wanted something dangerous from him.

She took his silence as a good sign. “I don’t? What a shame, then I suppose I’ll have to get to know you from this moment forward, won’t I? That’s right. You’re lost but I found you… so, just let go, give up, and let me take you to paradise. I’ll take good care of you.”

“...”

The dejected look in his eyes told her all she needed to know. That sickly sweet laugh of hers echoed in his mind as he gave up, and her backup arrived.

31 notes · View notes

onewfantaesy · 3 years

Note

i love stairway au!!!!!!!!! its a concept ive been thinking about lately so im super keen to see where you go with it!!!!!

tyty!!! I think it’s rly neat but I’m not sure what I’m gonna do w it yet tbh we shall see!!

Stairway AU

There’s not-so-hushed whispering coming from just outside the room, and Taemin groans and rolls over in bed and tries to hold a pillow over his head. Kai and Ravi are so damn loud sometimes, what he wouldn’t give to be able to live in an apartment without roommates. They’re probably doing some stupid video for Kai’s dumb video game vlog again. Taemin huffs and buries his face deeper in the pillows, pulling the comforter tighter around his shoulders.

Except this isn’t his comforter. And he bolts right up and his eyes snap open and stares at a bedroom that’s way too big to even belong in his crappy little apartment. And he’s standing in this foreign bedroom in nothing but boxers and shirt that’s way too big and where the hell is he, maybe he really did hit his head.

“You’re up!” Kibum’s voice calls, the door pushing open, and Taemin yelps and pulls the comforter to try to hide his basically bare lower half from the three people from work who barge into the room.

“What the hell?” Taemin shrieks. “What are you doing?”

“Why are you so shy all of a sudden?” Minho snorts.

“Huh?”

“Are you seriously gonna act like a prude?” Minho laughs, watching as Taemin stumbles back on the bed and tightens the comforter around himself. “Dude, we’ve seen you naked, are you embarrassed about your underwear or something?”

“Where am I?” Taemin asks, feeling very breathless, not at all liking the way Minho from three cubicles down has apparently seen him naked. “Why are you here?”

“You’re at home,” Jinki says softly, moving closer to the bed, but stopping short when Taemin flinches back. “This is your house. Your bedroom. Does it not look familiar?”

“This is not my apartment,” Taemin says, his voice shaking almost as much as his body. “And this is definitely not my room.”

“Are you feeling okay?”

“No!” Taemin snaps. “Do I look okay to you?”

“Why don’t we get you something to eat?” Kibum tries instead. “Are you hungry?”

“Maybe go take a shower,” Jinki suggests. “Then you can eat. That might help.”

Almost instantly, he’s got towels and a change of clothes shoved into his arms, and he’s pushed into the bathroom connected to his bedroom. Definitely not his apartment, definitely not the crappy little bathroom he has to share with Kai (because Ravi won at Rock Paper Scissors when they moved in and got the master, the dickhead), and definitely not his clothes. He stands in the bathroom, towel wrapped around his waist, dripping wet as he holds up the clothes in front of him. They look expensive. Even the soap in the shower looked expensive, even the toilet paper is better than the cheap stuff Taemin always buys.

Definitely not him, as he stares at the mirror and finds a strange reflection of himself staring back, with dyed white/gray hair. He gets handprints on the mirror, touching his own reflection, unsure of how they could have possibly dyed his hair (and made it grow? A little bit?) in just a few hours without him even noticing. Even his skin looks different - tight, and overly clean, and like he uses way more than just the drug store face wash in his usual bathroom.

He doesn’t know what sort of twilight zone bullshit he walked into, but the knock on the bathroom door and the worried voice of Kibum asking if he needs any help snaps him out of his stupor, and he shrieks back a quick “No!” before hurrying to put on the clothes that were picked out for him.

“One of the stylists said you were acting a little spaced out when she was doing your hair at the shoot,” Kibum says when Taemin steps out of the bathroom. “Did something happen? We can cancel practice today if you’re not feeling well, really. You don’t have to keep overworking yourself like this.”

“Practice for what?” Taemin asks, not even questioning the way Kibum holds his arm and pulls him out into the hallway, towards a kitchen, and Taemin can finally see windows without blackout curtains and it’s definitely morning now, how long was he passed out?

“For the comeback,” Kibum says slowly, helping him sit down at a table.

Taemin almost asks “What comeback?” but his eyes lock onto pictures that are scattered around the house, some hanging on walls, some propped against them. Of him in strange outfits with strange hair and strange makeup, stage lights illuminating his face, showing him mid-dance. Of him with the other three, hugging them, squished between them, big smiles spread wide across all their faces. Drawings of him. It doesn’t make any sense. He looks so young in some of them, he didn’t even meet these guys until a couple years ago when he switched companies, when Jinki hired him, none of this makes sense. Why does he look like a gangly teenager in some of these pictures with the other three looking just as gangly and teenagery? He hadn’t even met them before he turned 25.

“We’ll cancel practice for today,” Jinki says, and it sounds final, like when he ends a meeting before anyone can ask any dumb questions. “So you can get some rest. The comeback isn’t for another few weeks anyway, we have plenty of time.”

Are they idols? Some teeny bopper boyband? How old is he supposed to be?

A plate of food is pushed in front of him, and Taemin abandons every question in his mind so he can focus on eating. He’s starving. And it’s way better than the instant ramen or cereal he usually eats.

Sure, he’d wanted to be an idol when he was younger. Hated school and vowed he’d never get a normal 9-5 job. But it was just a phase, it had passed, he’d never even auditioned like he always said he would. Instead, he focused on school, went to college, and somehow managed to get a decent career in the end. Yeah, he liked dancing, and he and Kai would go come up with dumb routines to dumb pop songs on their down time, but nothing serious. Nothing that made them any money. Certainly nothing that could buy a huge place like this with fancy bath towels and expensive shampoo and designer clothes.

“I think someone was really worried about you,” Kibum teases, and Taemin doesn’t understand at first, food halfway to his lips, and that’s when he sees it. Jumping up on the table. Moving to nuzzle it’s face just under his chin.

Oh my God, twilight-zone-Taemin has a cat.

#taemin #shinee #onew #key #minho #stairway au #hello anon

9 notes · View notes

admin-in-residence · 4 years

Text

Show and Tell

One more fic based on Padawan Skip from @clonesandmoans this is technically a sequel to my first fic Order 66.

Skip is roughly 15-16 years old in this one. Flashbacks to 12-13 year old Skip.

Length: 2,333 Words

Skip dragged her feet along the dirt path, wincing at every step. Strange creatures called out in the night, and her path was illuminated only by the light of the twin moon’s hung high in the sky.

She nearly missed her turn, which wouldn’t be the first time since they’ve landed upon this planet, hiding their ship in layers of vines, mud, and brush. Thankfully their was one corner, high up on the space craft that she hadn’t been able to reach and the metal shined under the moonlight.

She gave her signature knock, three sharp raps followed by 2 slower knocks, and was relieved as the ramp instantly lowered.

Entering inside, she slammed her hand back on the door panel, the ramp closing behind them. The lights were set on dim, any higher and they risk shining through their camouflage.

“Thank’s for waiting up for me.” She said softly, catching Echo’s tired gaze.

The Clone in mention sat in the Captain’s chair, a mug of steaming tea in hand. Skip couldn’t help herself as she ran a hand through the fuzzy hair that had begun to grow in once again, carefully minding the cybernetic’s implant’s.

“Stop that.” Echo groaned.

“Can’t help it.” Skip teased, sticking out her tongue before stealing the tea from his grasp. She took a sip from it before passing it back to Echo.

“How was your shift?” Echo asked.

Skip groaned in response, sinking into the seats of the co-pilot’s chair.

It had been a rough year...and it felt so much longer.

After escaping Naboo upon their stolen spacecraft, they had hopped from planet to planet exchanging ship’s for other ones, trying to create a untraceable trail. She had begun to lose track of the names of all the planets she had been to, and remembered a time in her life when she used to track them all excitedly, wanting to see everything...the chart that Tech-

She winced involuntarily.

“You know. I could be out there helping, I’m sure there’s someone who would be willing to hire me.” Echo said.

Money was one of their biggest troubles, there never seemed to be enough of it. Skip was thankful she had managed to find a diner upon this planet and had been waitressing in order to pay for their rations. The owner was harsh and demanding, and the shifts were long and grueling, not to mention the far walk from the hideout to town and then back.

Most days, she would leave before the sun rose and make it back when the moon was high like tonight.

Echo wanted so badly to help, but with the Imperial presence beginning to rise, more and more people were beginning to memorize the identical Clone faces, and Echo would fit the bill...no doubt if he was seen the Batch would be on their tail again.

“It’s alright. It’s best if your here, taking care of the ship. Just a couple more week’s and I’ll have enough credit’s saved up...we’ll be able to stock up on some food and move on.” Skip said.

“Your wearing yourself down Skip.” Echo said, “I’m just worried about you. You and me...that’s all I’ve got left.”

Skip hummed in response, her eyes shutting by the invisible wights pulling them down. She needed some sleep...sleep that wasn’t just a few hours between shifts.

“Hey, I had to go through the chest today...” Echo said.

Skip squinted as she looked to her companion.

“For?”

“My old armor...I needed some wires from my communicator cuff. I was careful, and I was able to fix the comm system on the ship.” Echo stated proudly. “But...I found something...”

Skip sat up eyes narrowed.

“It slipped out of your old belt pouch...I don’t know if you wanted it, or if you want me to stick it back in the chest.” Echo said.

The chest, in reference was a small storage crate that had been carried from ship to ship since they had first started stealing and trading ships, it was full of their old lives, Echo’s armor, Skip’s lightsaber was buried somewhere inside, and they tried to avoid it all costs...they just didn’t have the heart to leave it behind.

Echo reached into his pocket, and pulled out a small wooden figure.

Skip gasped as she reached out to take it in her hands.

The figure was small, light and whittled oh so carefully in the shape of a Tooka cat.

“I didn’t even know I had it on me that day.” Skip whispered.

“Hunter made it right? I wasn’t with you guys very long, but I know he liked to work on things like that.”

Skip smiled.

“He made one for each member of the Batch...I remember the day he gave this to me...”

“I’m sorry Padawan, but I can’t make it...” Her master trailed off, “You should know how much this mission means to the Republic.”

Skip forced a smile on her face, “Of course Master. I wish you luck.”

The transmission cut off after that, and Skip sank down, wrapping her arms around her knees.

As part of her Padawan Classes, the Padawans had been given a task to find something to bring in that showcased what they had learned since they had first started their trainings. Most Padawans brought their own Masters, who better to showcase then the person that taught them so much in the first place?

But now, Skip didn’t have anything.

“What’s the long face for kid?”

Skip looked up, hoping she didn’t look as upset as she currently felt. Sergeant Hunter, the leader of their Clone Force eyed her warily.

“Tomorrow’s my showcasing day.” Skip sighed standing up before Hunter. “But now my Master can’t make it...I don’t have anything else.”

“What’s the showcasing for?” Hunter asked curiously.

“It’s to show what we’ve learned so far, things that have taught us lessons...that have inspired us.” Skip answered.

Now how could she choose? What should she bring...she had learned so much...her master’s teachings, lightsaber duels, sniper training with Crosshair, decoding with Tech, demolition from Wrecker, knife training and hand to hand combat from-

“Hunter!” Skip exclaimed. “My batch!”

Hunter eyed her warily as she looked at him excitedly.

“You guys can come instead!”

“Come where?” Wrecker asked as the rest of the Batch walked in.

“To the Jedi Temple! Tomorrow!” Skip said.

“Now hang on-” Hunter held a hand out.

“Why would we go to the Temple?” Crosshair frowned.

“Think of all the things I could analyze.” Tech said in wonder.

“Do you have any animals there?” Wrecker asked.

“Hold on!” Hunter frowned, “Skip...we can’t just go with you to the temple.”

Skip frowned before resting her hands on her hips, her eyes narrowed, eyebrow cocked.

“Now you’ve done it.” Crosshair muttered.

“Skip-don’t...” Hunter groaned.

“We’ll if you can’t just go. Perhap’s you’ll need some orders to do so.” Skip said.

“Can she do that?” Wrecker questioned.

“Do you want to question me on it?” Skip retorted.

“Don’t question her on it.” Tech said, “She can-”

“And will!”

“-And will do that.” Tech finished.

The rest of the batch looked between Skip and Hunter, both who were staring each other down, arms crossed.

Hunter finally sighed, nodding his head.

“So we’re doing this?” Crosshair groaned.

“We’re doing this.”

Standing in front of her peer’s after their own presentations felt a lot more intimidating then it probably should.

Curious Jedi Master’s stood behind their padawans as Skip took the center of the room, the Batch standing behind her.

“Padawan, share with us what you have come to learn from...” The temple teacher trailed off unsure of how to address the clones.

Eyeing her batch she saw how uncomfortable they seemed standing behind her.

Looking around the room, she saw her peer’s eye the clone’s distastefully.

“These are my brothers.” Skip spoke, her voice unwavering as she stood up straighter, shoulders back.

She could feel the Batch’s eye’s snap to the back of her head...she wished she could see the looks on their faces.

“Some of you wouldn’t understand, because most of you aren’t on the front-lines. But these guys always have my back, no matter the situation.” Skip said.

“But it’s more then just that...because any clone will have your backs. These guys do more...they teach me how to protect my own back because sometimes there not always there. Hunter’s taught me all different kinds of forms. They help me handle my lightsaber better...” Skip moved next to Hunter.

“He’s showed me all kind’s of different tricks to disarm enemy’s, along with close contact fighting.” Skip moved to Tech next.

“If you ever need to override a security terminal, or need to hack into some separatist information outposts. this is your guy.” Skip said proudly.

“But that’s not even the best part! Tech know’s all different kind’s of languages, traditions, religions and he can spout all sort of facts about them!” Skip looped behind coming around to Crosshair.

“Crosshair is the best sniper out there! He’s taught me all about vantage points, where the best locations are to scout against the seppies, and he’s great at spotting extra details. He’s always there to correct my forms...although he doesn’t always make it easy on me.” Skip bounced over to Wrecker who looked excitedly down at her.

“Of course, I can’t forget about Wrecker. If his name doesn’t give it away, he’s good at demolition. But he’s also super strong!”

Proving her statement, Wrecker lifted Skip up onto his shoulder.

“But beyond that, Wreckers the best person to talk to....if meditation isn’t working, talking things out with Wrecker always help...and he’s a good listener.” Skip said.

The fellow padawans had changed their views and know seemed overjoyed at seeing the clones, they fidgeted and some looked to their master’s wanting to ask questions about her batch.

The temple teacher however, frowned.

“Padawan...perhaps you’ve mistaken my assignment. I requested you show what you have learned as a padawan. A member of the Jedi order. Not what you have learned in the war.” The temple teacher stated.

Skip frowned, Wrecker gently setting her back down.

The room was quiet, eerily quiet as the other padawans watched the standoff between teacher and student.

Then Skip looked up.

Hunter watched as she stood straight once more, shoulders back, eye’s narrowed, eyebrow cocked.

“Oh no...” Tech whispered.

Oh yes. Hunter thought.

“Perhaps I didn’t make myself clear Teacher. You assigned me to tell and show you something I have learned since I’ve become a padawan. Originally I was going to bring my Master, and he was going to demonstrate one of his lightsaber forms...but thinking about it now, I realize that this wouldn’t have shown what I learned. No.” Skip began.

“It is my batch, my brothers that I have learned from. Every time Hunter teaches me a form, I know that he has put every thought into how it will help me with my saber skill’s for battle, for defense. When Tech teaches me languages, tradition, culture, he is teaching me to accept everything of other beings of our galaxy. When Crosshair is teaching me vantage points, he’s not just showing me battle strategies, he’s making sure I understand that the slightest detail can change an entire outcome. And Wrecker teaches me that no matter how much destruction can be created, that there is still love and acceptance within that. These men may not be jedi, may not be one with the force, but they have taught me more then any temple learning, or lesson from my master.” Skip finished.

The temple teacher was taken back before an angry look crossed over her face.

Then a Rodian stepped forewards.

“Padawan, perhaps Hunter can teach us one of the forms he has taught you...I admit, I’m not very comfortable with Saber skills.” The Rodian said.

Hunter smiled.

“I’d be honored, though I’m gonna need some assistance Skip.” Hunter said.

And Hunter watched as his vod’ika gave a wide grin.

The Batch made their way back to the Havoc Marauder, Tech was talking adamantly about the questions he had received from the other padawans, and Crosshair looked as if he might strangle him any second.

“Hey Skip, hold on for a sec.” Hunter called.

Skip halted as Hunter pulled something out from his belt pouch.

“You made me real proud today vod’ika.But your still as annoying as a Tooka.” Hunter stated passing something into her hands, before walking after his brothers.

Skip looked down to her hands, seeing a wooden Tooka in her hand, it’s face carved into a mischievous grin.

Skip looked up happily.

“Wipe that grin off your face. I can’t believe you made me go through with this. Your going to be doing twice as much work tomorrow in training Skip!” Crosshair teased.

“Whatever you say ori’vod!” Skip smiled.

“You guys were pretty close.” Echo said, “I wish I could have known them a bit better.”

“They were great.” Skip whispered, a stray tear falling down her face.

“It’s late.” Skip said a moment later, wiping her eyes. “I gotta get to bed. I have a early shift.”

“Goodnight.” Echo said softly. Skip ruffled his hair once more in passing.

By morning, Skip found herself at work. Not even an hour into her shift a nearby customer’s conversation broke through her focus.

“Such an odd group they were...strange armor wearing helmets...no no...nothing like those imperial troopers...no there were skulls on them!”

Skip dropped the breakfast platters in her arms.

As the owner came out to yell at her employee, the door slammed shut behind Skip, apron falling to the tiled floor.

Skip ran all the way back to the ship, knocking on the metal before beginning to pull on the vines.

Echo opened the ramp quickly, coming out.

“It’s time isn’t it...” He said, tearing at the brush

“Maybe the next planet we can save some money up huh?” Skip answered.

“Doesn’t matter to me. It’s you and me Skip...”

“Your all I got Echo.”

The weight of the wooden figure tucked securely in her pocket reminded her of a time however, when there had been more.

#the bad batch #padawan!skip #Padawan Skip #clone force 99 #bad batch #sergeant hunter #crosshair #wrecker #tech #clone wars #star wars the clone wars #swtcw

74 notes · View notes

boxboysandotherwhump · 4 years

Photo

Chapter 8 is finally finished and boi was it a fight. Thank you again for proofreading @haro-whumps <3 and for anyone else who might wonder, the dish Paxton is cooking in this drabble is a traditional polish dish called Zupa Mleczna

Tag list: @albino-whumpee @orchidscript @finder-of-rings @haro-whumps

CW: mentioned past abuse, institutionalized slavery, boxboy universe typical slavery, aftermath of conditioning, fucked up headspace of whumpee

The week had simultaneously stretched into an endless expanse of getting to know someone new, and flown by like the flutter of eyelashes.

Paxton’s box had caught dust, halfway forgotten in the attic by now, and Paxton had grown used to sleeping wrapped in warmth, when he was particularly lucky even in his master’s arms, and he savored every second of it.

Life in the shared flat never ceased to amaze Paxton, every new day leaving him less scared, rather eager to learn more about his new master, this new world. He cherished every newly revealed facet of Amal as he tried to assemble them into something comprehensible, piecing together the most wondrous and complex puzzle he’d ever seen.

In those last days for example, Paxton had discovered that Amal drank his tea piping hot, risking to burn his tongue rather than waiting for it to cool. He seemed to be like that with most things, always in a rush to reach his end goal as quickly as possible. The only times Amal could be patient was while creating something or when he was with Paxton.

Amal also tended to snack half the dinner ingredients, getting full before dinner was even ready but eating a portion nonetheless. Maybe, Paxton had thought, it’s because Amal often forgoes eating for hours, so absorbed in his work projects he seemingly forgets he exists in a physical body at all. Perfectly still and focused, his only movements pencil strokes over paper while he works on new tattoo designs. At certain points he would suddenly jump up, run to the bathroom, and raid the kitchen to gorge himself on all the snacks and leftovers he could find.

Paxton had made it a point to cook whenever Amal got ‘in the zone’ as Miss Meryem had jokingly called it, and even if his master had told him he didn’t have to, Paxton thought that he wanted to. Especially when it meant he could watch Amal munch away with that grateful, delighted expression of his, whenever Paxton prepared some tea or food.

Even Mister Finnegan had grown fond of Paxton, and had started dragging him up to the attic, teaching him all about the plants overwintering there, waiting for their replanting in spring. Or how to bind winter wreaths from twigs and dried berries. Mister Finnegan had been surprised, the first time, how quickly Paxton had learned, and had praised him so much his face was still flushed red as they climbed down the attic ladder some time later.

In moments like these, Paxton wished he could still read and absorb all the precious information from the plant care guide Mister Finnegan had given to him. He longed for a time where his head didn’t explode with pain whenever he squinted at writing for too long. For when he wouldn’t get catapulted to the limits of his body, or worse, the borders of his own mind. Pain reduced him to a prisoner of bone and flesh, misfiring neurons became his jailer.

Paxton poured noodles into warm milk with a soft sigh, careful not to burn them. A strangely familiar smell filled the kitchen while he cooked, cinnamon and sweetness anchored him in the here and now. Snowflakes danced beyond the kitchen window, crystals of cold sending phantom shivers down his spine. Paxton unrolled the soft green sleeves of his wool-sweater, letting them cover his scarred hands, soothing itchy skin, gentle like a caress. Warmth bloomed in his heart, with every slow stir of the wooden spoon, creating ripples in the milk.

What did it matter if he couldn’t read anymore? He still had his intuition, could still find parts of himself in tastes and smells and muscle memories. No, with his master’s permission to experiment, ‘or go crazy in the kitchen’ as Amal had put it, he didn’t need books, or to learn new things. The only things that mattered were that he remained good for his master, cooked things his master would enjoy, cleaned satisfactorily, (which was easy enough with such lenient masters in such a small flat), and kept his master happy. Which was the easiest part of them all, since Amal seemed to delight in everything Paxton did. Even if he just lied on the couch, curled under blankets he couldn’t ever truly earn. But the rules were different here and Paxton’s heart began to buzz whenever he saw his master, not only with anxiety but with a warmth he thought he’d lost in an ice-cold white room.

Satisfied with the noodle’s consistency, Paxton stirred in cinnamon and sugar, turned down the heat and started to pull bowls from the shelves as his master suddenly burst into the room, some kind of oversized smartphone clutched in one hand and a pleased grin plastered on his face.

“Paxton.” ,he said beaming.

The sudden intrusion of his cooking space made Paxton flinch, despite himself.

Even though Amal was often buzzing around him, trying to help while he worked, it still set Paxton on edge, feeling utterly improper. A Boxboy receiving help from his master, inconveniencing him with undignified tasks like cleaning or cooking, was unforgivable! Sometimes Paxton even found himself wishing for Amal to be stricter. Yearning to just be punished by him, to be shown his place instead of being constantly overwhelmed by this kindness he didn’t even deserve.

Something must have given his unease away. His master’s grin softened into a sheepish smile as he sat down, slowly, gently placing the smartphone-like device on the table.

“Hey. Hi.” Amal’s voice grew soft, sounding almost shy and Paxton couldn’t help but return Amal’s smile. His lips and heart and body reacted all on their own around Amal. Separated from his desire to act appropriately, to be a good pet that could serve his master without breaking down crying every other day or stealing all his master’s blankets at night.

“Hi…. Uhm, welcome back… sir.”

Paxton watched his master bite back a protest at the title, allowing him to use it like he’d promised.

“I came up with something for your reading… problem.”

Turning off the stovetop, Paxton turned around, hoping the hurried steps to his master’s side wouldn’t give his eagerness away.

The way Amal’s eyes glimmered up at him, crinkling with his smile, told Paxton he’d seen right through him. Like he always did.

Paxton looked down with warming cheeks, his stockinged feet shuffling over the polished kitchen floor. “And what, uhm, what… would that be? Sir?”

A bright grin lit Amal’s face up as he brought the device to life with the press of a tiny button. “Tadaa. A friend gave me this tablet. Like, super cheap.” His master’s grin stretched even wider, and Paxton wondered for a second if his cheeks didn’t hurt. “And it has google voice search.”

He perked up. The term sounded vaguely familiar but he couldn’t quiete place it. “Voice search?”

“Yes. Yes, come here.” Amal scooted over, shoving the tablet under Paxtons nose as soon as he’d sat down. His master leaned closer and his small body pressed up against Paxton, green curls tickling his chin as Amal rambled, his face flushed with excitement.

“Here see, I already set it up so that only the symbols are visible. There’s no writing if you don’t go in the menu. So the important apps first. This is the Netflix symbol. Netflix is awesome because you can-“

Amal rested his elbow on Paxton’s thigh as he explained the virtues of streaming platforms and Paxton’s head blanked. His master was so close and small and warm and smelled so so good and Paxton was utterly unable to concentrate on the tiny screen symbols for a moment.

Focus! Focus! Focus! Master said this is important.

“Okay but what’s probably the most useful for you is youtube.”

Paxton watched him tap on the small red icon and big pictures with little texts under them popped up. Thumbnails, as master called them. If Paxton squinted a bit he could ignore the letters enough to evade a new impending headache.

“There are tutorials and documentaries and video essays for basically everything you could wish for. You just have to press the little microphone and hold it while you ask.”

“Uhm, ask- ask what, Sir?” All this new information made Paxton’s head spin.

“Uh, I don’t know,” his master confessed as he scooted back with a bashful smile and Paxton swallowed a frustrated whine. The leg master had just leaned on felt suddenly, terribly cold. He wanted master to nuzzle back against him and continue to explain new things to him in this adorably excited way of his.

Stupid, stupid Pet. You messed up and now master is just going to leave and never show you anything he likes ever again because you’re too stupid to understand it. You useless-

“Anything that interests you I guess. Hm let’s see, something other than cooking maybe.”

Paxton’s heart sank. Was it not good that he liked to cook? Master always said he didn’t have to but-

Amal waved his hands apologetically “Not that there is anything wrong with cooking.”

His master had seen right through him. Again.

“But maybe we could search for more things you like?”

You’re a pet now. What you want is irrelevant 626.

Paxton gave an insecure little nod and Amal pressed the little microphone symbol with a smile as he demanded,. “Funny cat videos.”

Sure enough, thumbnails with cute little kittens plopped up just as his master had ordered. His voice had been direct but warm. Firm. Paxton really liked to hear his master order for something, and the hope that he would maybe at some point talk to him like that sent a pleasant shiver down his spine, right to- His leg twitched as he took the tablet from his master’s hands.

“I- I want to- to try.”

“Go ahead then.” A smile tinted his master’s voice but still, this could count as an order. Right?

Unsure, Paxton pressed the microphone symbol. “Uhm, could you, you please show me how to bind flower wreaths. Please?”

Unlike when his master did it, no thumbnails appeared. He stared at the thick black letters in confusion. He must have done something wrong and the letters were meant to punish his failure. Paxton could already feel the impending headache throb behind his eyes. He wanted to endure it, to force himself and look at those letters of damnation, but Amal took the tablet from him.

Now he must have messed it up.

Fearing for the worst Paxton glanced down at his master. Amal’s eyebrows were drawn together and the corners of his mouth twitched as teeth dug hard into his bottom lip. White sunken into pink flesh.

Surely this was it. The moment of punishment had finally come. Even his master’s patience must have reached its limits after Paxton messed up such a simple order.

Bracing for the impact he froze as his master doubled over snorting.

“Oh god you’re so cute, you know that?!”

Paxton’s mouth opened and closed like a fish stranded on land. His head spun the same way it did when he had been choked for too long. Cute? He?! Had his master ever really looked at him?! “Wha- wha- wha- what?”

Amal swiped a little tear from his eye, as he grinned up at him, still giggling. “You can’t literally formulate a whole question, you know?! Just use buzzwords or the search engine gets confused.”

That wasn’t the only thing that was confused right now.

“Buzzwords, Sir?”

“Yeah.” Amal nodded. “Like: flower wreathes tutorial.”

“But, but,” Paxton gasped, flushing red like the soft new leather collar he had chosen in a tiny salacious shop with his master yesterday. “That would, would be utterly impolite.” His voice dropped into a whisper. “I behave improperly enough as it is.”

“Hey.” Amal’s hand came up and cupped his cheek, turning Paxton’s head gently to face him. He melted into the tender caress, eyes fluttering closed for a moment before he willed himself to meet his master’s soft smile. “You’re perfect, okay?! And besides, it’s impossible to be impolite to a computer program. So would you try again? For me?”

It was not fair. How could he ever deny his master if he asked like this?! Now it dawned on Paxton why Amal didn’t use any form of punishment or disciplinary measures. His master simply didn’t need to, with his dark big eyes blinking up at him like this, his full lips curved into an encouraging smile. Paxton knew he would cut his own hands open without hesitation if Amal would wish for it, so what was ignoring his training to always remain polite compared to that?!

Taking a deep breath he whispered, “Flower wreaths tutorial,” and just like his master had promised it worked. Amal rubbed soft circles in his back as pictures of artfully arranged flowers appeared on the screen. “See? I told you you’re perfect.”

Buzzing under his master’s praise, Paxton felt his own words vibrate in his chest, shatter some invisible barriere with the force of the first brick thrown June 28, 1969. A grin revealed a flash of white teeth as he whispered, “I did it.”

#paxton and amal series #paxton and amal #paxton the box boy #Box Boy #boxboy #boxboys #box boys #box boy universe #box boy whump #bbu #WRU #wru the series #pet whump #whump #trauma recovery #tw past abuse

68 notes · View notes

alarawriting · 4 years

Text

52 Project #28 / Writeober 2020 #8 Haunting: The Court of the Lion King

I returned to the apartment building where Daro and Anzali and I had lived before we went down to the sea. It had not changed in the way buildings change-- its paint was the same color, it seemed no more or less weatherbeaten than before. The railing on the 3rd floor balcony still sagged. But it had changed in the way homes change, because it wasn't home any more. Because different people lived there now, filling it with their strange scents, and because I had changed. The scent of the sea was still in my nostrils. I would never smell the comforts of home again.

Renting the third floor apartment did not present difficulties. I walked through the silence of the apartment, marveling at its emptiness. The furniture was still there, the faded rug, the great sagging bed, the tired appliances. But all the personality was gone. Anzali's bright prints had been taken off the walls, which themselves had been whitewashed again to remove our cheery yellow paint. White is a disturbing color, the color of bones and of drowned skin, pink human and green farla alike. Even the humans of other colors became gray, in death by water. If I needed to be here long, the white walls would glare in my eyes and drive me mad.

There was a knock at the door, startling me, and I almost fled. But it wouldn't be the Lion King, not here, not yet. He wouldn't know I was back. I opened the door.

A human greeted me. "Hi there, new neighbor. I'm Rachael from the second floor apartment. Just thought I'd come say hi. Need help moving in?"

Rachael was chubby – not just by farla standards, but by human – with short brown hair and a squeaky tenor voice. She had pale skin, which she covered with more makeup than most humans, and her chin and brow seemed unusually defined for a female human. "Hello," I said distantly. "I'm Ashmi. No, I don't need help moving in. Thanks for asking."

"Oh. Well, sorry to bother you. You want to come downstairs for a cup of tea or something? I like to get to know my neighbors. It cuts down on the insecurity, you know. Living in a place like this-- well, this isn't the best of neighborhoods, you know?"

"I know," I said bitterly, and wondered if this androgynous human knew the Lion King. I also wondered if I could still drink tea. I was afraid of my bone-white apartment, and loneliness. "I'll come downstairs if you want, but I don't know if I'll be able to take tea. I tend to be allergic to nearly everything."

"Well, come on down. You don't have to have tea if you don't want it. You're a farla, aren't you?"

I stepped out of my apartment and followed Rachael downstairs. "You can't tell?"

"You're a bit pale, aren't you? I never saw a farla so white. I thought you guys were all green. Not that I think it looks bad, I think you look gorgeous. At least, I don't know, by human standards or something, but maybe you don't feel good?"

"It's the color we turn when we're away from our Mother," I said. "The Sun. It is not a well color, and I thank you for your concern, but really, don't worry about me."

Rachael's apartment smelled like cats. Unsurprisingly, three came to greet Rachael, and another one sat on a moth-eaten armchair and glowered at me. The cats seemed unsure of me. Farla generally get along well with cats, sometimes better than with the humans who brought them, and I had always liked them. These, however, avoided me, and I avoided them. Rachael noticed. "Don't you like cats?"

There is one Cat that I despise. But I wouldn't say so. These cats were nothing of the Lion King. "They're all right. These don't seem to like me."

"That's funny. Normally they're all over strangers. What's wrong, guys? You being little bitches today?" Rachael turned to me apologetically. "They get like this sometimes."

"I don't blame them." I took a deep breath of cat-scented air. It was not quite enough to drown out the scent of the sea. "Forgive me for my ignorance. I'm not very experienced with humans, but... you are a woman, aren’t you?”

Rachael laughed. "Already? That’s great!"

"I don’t understand."

"I’ve been trying." The human went into the kitchen to put on tea. "Just managed to get on hormones two weeks ago. This place, well. Not a lot of doctors, and the mail’s not too reliable."

"What do doctors and the mail have to do with your – no. This is none of my concern, I’m being very rude."

"From a farla, I’m okay with it," Rachael said, coming out with the tea. “I’m a woman, but I only figured it out for certain a year ago, and it’s taken me this long to get the hormones I need.”

“I didn’t know humans could have an ambiguous gender," I said.

“Yeah, sometimes we’re born with the wrong genitals and hormones, and it can be hard to figure out what we really ought to be. I’m thirty-five. I don’t know if farlae age like humans do, but that’s, like, more than a third of a human’s maximum average lifespan, more than half of how long we usually do live when we grow up in neighborhoods like this. I didn’t grow up here, though, but just a few cities over, not so close to the water, but other than that it’s just like this. So that’s a long time to not know, but I know it now. Gonna start growing my hair out now that I have my shots.”

I doubted the other city was really just like this. This city was different from any I had known. "I see," I said, though I didn't really understand most of what she was talking about. I tried to smell the tea, but I could only smell salt water.

"Do you want something? Some water? I feel bad that you're allergic to tea and all."

What I needed, Rachael could not give me. Or at the least, I would not take from her. "That's fine. I'm all right." I had not been all right since we went to the sea. I no longer even knew how many years it had been. "How long have you been living here?"

"Oh, a year and a half or so. It's a bad neighborhood, but it's cheap. You know how it is. Hard to get work nowadays."

I didn't know how it was, but I nodded politely. "Yes."

"Now that I’m out, a lot of humans won’t hire me. This is the kind of neighborhood where they’ve got really old, traditional attitudes, you know? And I guess you've got it worse. Not many farlae here."

"This was a farla neighborhood once," I said. "An artists' community. It was poor, but it had a soul."

"Well, it hasn't got one now," Rachael said, with an edge of bitterness in her voice. "That's just like us humans. We wreck everything."

"You feel too much guilt. This may be a human neighborhood now, but its soullessness is not human doing." Panic choked me like seaweed as I realized I'd said too much. I had lost my old instincts-- I had no way to know if Rachael was the Lion's or not.

"You talk like you've been here before."

"I must go." I got up, hastily. "I'm sorry."

"Uh, okay. Health problems or something? Or was it something I said?"

"Health problems," I lied. "Perhaps we'll talk again. I'm sorry."

***

I locked the door of my apartment behind me. It wasn't necessary; what I feared could come through walls, and there were no mundane threats I did fear anymore. But it would disturb me if Rachael came upstairs and came inside while I wasn't watching. I wanted to be careful of what she might see.

I thought she was a sweet, harmless soul, if a bit strange. I would wish to befriend her, another time, perhaps, but not here. Not where anything might warp under the paw of the Lion. I could see the signs she'd spoken of now. This place no longer had a soul.

Once Daro had argued that humans could be rendered soulless, could be enslaved, far more easily than the farlae. Farlae, he argued, had been created as slaves, and would die free rather than live that way again. Humans, freely evolved, knew no better. Slavery was a sporadic thing in their history and was performed by groups of them on other groups, never something their race as a whole had suffered. So they did not notice being enslaved. They couldn't see the loss of their souls until after the precious stuff was gone.

At the time I had called Daro racist, but secretly suspected some part of his theory to be true. Now I knew better. Farlae had fled this neighborhood because they'd heard of our fate, I thought. And humans moved in simply by the laws of diffusion, there being more of them on this world than us. Unaware of the danger until it was too late. Farlae would notice an absence of farlae, and stay away, feeling unwelcome. Humans, the majority, had no such warning system.

And farlae could be enslaved, stripped of will or soul. Sometimes the choice was not between slavery or death. Sometimes it was between two forms of slavery.

I thought I could sleep. But the bed would not touch me. When I closed my eyes and lay down, I felt myself in my ocean bed once more, curled like a child in the womb, the green water penetrating me and washing my thoughts away. It didn't matter. I didn't need sleep anyway.

I left my apartment and went to explore the neighborhood by night. It had changed physically after all. No one I'd known would have allowed their apartments to become so run-down, let so much trash collect in the streets, or left broken, melted vehicles like mountains of plastic on the sides of the roads. Aside from me, no woman walked abroad, and I was invisible if I chose. Gangs of young male humans lounged about, predators waiting for prey. Empty drug vials and used-up dermal patches littered the sidewalks and the paths between the buildings.

The Lion King's place alone had grown in splendor. His nightclub, Heaven, looked positively palatial, glittering with light and music. He sat in the center of the neighborhood, with a vast spiderweb thrown in the air about him of parking for aircars. There were no longer any grounded streets leading to his court, and all the buildings that used to stand around Heaven had been swallowed by the glittering fibers of the parking web. From the ground, only someone light as a wraith could climb the web to reach the cars, as I did; the human children down below could see fat, juicy prey overhead, but had no way to reach it. They were driven sullen, reminded of what they didn't have and could never get, made impotent by the Lion. And so in impotent fury they raged against those that had no more than they-- which was why no one walked alone on the night streets, and no women walked at all.

This was what I saw when the Lion King first arrived. But then it was only a vision in a dream-clouded farla's mind. I didn't truly know what the Lion King truly was until the day he summoned me to his court. None of us knew. I tried to tell myself that, to remind myself that Daro and Anzali's fate was not my fault. I didn't believe my own reassurances at all.

The club itself was the last place I went, that night. Invisible to almost all, I wandered the two dance floors, peered in some of the upstairs bedrooms and slipped back out again. Heaven had grown more openly decadent since last I was here, with more bedrooms for the transactions of perversion and vice. They were no longer hidden away on the top floor, available only to members of the Lion's court. I saw businessmen cavorting in swimming pools with women who were no more than animated shells, the vivacity that seemed to pour from them as artificial as the sunlamp light that glittered off the pool. I saw humans and farlae both drugged out of their minds, performing obscene rituals of life and death for an appreciative audience of both races. I saw other humans and farlae voluntarily drinking down hells'brews, filling their bodies with a greater variety and concentration of drugs than even the poor victim-slaves had been poisoned with. And none of them saw me. I didn't expect humans to see me, but the fact that I was invisible even to farlae said that the farlae in this establishment were all spiritually dead.

None of this surprised me. It filled me with hate, but hate gave me strength. I remembered what had been done to me, what had happened to my husband and wife, and why I was here. I decided to risk finding the Lion King.

***

The topmost floor of Heaven was the Lion King's court. One could not get in without an invitation, but in a sense the Lion had tendered me an invitation all those years ago. In any case, only the Lion himself could have kept me out, and he didn't man his own doors.

I saw him on his throne, with four scantily-clad women serving him. Two were human, one was farla, and one was as he was, part cat. The humans once manufactured other humans with the blood of animals mingled with their own. Normally cat-humans manifested only with cat-shaped eyes and bodies far more graceful than a typical human body. The Lion King himself was thought a mutant or a throwback, or else something entirely inhuman, with his features subtly shaped to seem more cat than human, and his curly golden hair almost a mane. He was feeding from one of the human women as he held her in his lap. The others were massaging him or stroking his hair, oblivious to the bloody fate of their companion. Favored courtiers, men and unattractive women, competed for his attention, praising him and giving him information on his business.

He could not speak as he drank, but eventually he released the woman he was feeding from. She dropped to the floor in a heap, and I shuddered. In my time, his habits were not quite so open. I turned and left as I heard his voice. It was deep and mellifluous, no different than I remembered it, and I feared that my hate would choke me and I'd do something rash. I hadn't come all this way to throw away my best chance.

***

In the morning, I went to visit Rachael. My sight of the Lion King had fortified me, and I no longer cared if she was his creature or not. I needed information.

"Hey, Ashmi!" she said cheerfully, answering my knock in a bathrobe. "Want to come in and get some breakfast?"

"I'd like to come in, in any case," I said, "though I've already eaten."

"Oh. Well, if you don't mind watching me eat, come on in. I was kind of hoping you'd come in." She stared at me as I entered the cat-full apartment and seated myself. "God, you're gorgeous. I'd give anything to look like you."

"If you would give what I have given, you're a fool," I said softly.

"What?"

"Beauty is only a danger, in a place like this. I need information, Rachael; about the Lion King. What do you know?"

She swallowed. "Um. I don't think it's safe to talk about him..."

"It's safe. No one is listening, I am not an informant, and if you are I don't care. Tell me what you know about the Lion King."

"I don't think--"

I stood up again, and stared into her eyes. I let her see a small fraction of what I truly was. "Tell me."

"Oh, God." She stared at me with fear, not envy, now. "You're-- you're not--"

"I am not. Yes. I won't hurt you, Rachael, not unless you keep information from me."

"No wonder you didn't want to eat." She swallowed again. "All right. I don't know much-- I'm too ugly for the Lion and too poor to go to his club. But I know what everyone in the neighborhood knows. He's not human, for starters. I mean, more than the way you're-- uh, maybe the way you're not. Um. I mean, he isn't natural. He isn't just a catperson, he's something else. Something else totally."

"Yes. Something that can strip away a will, or a soul."

"And pretty girls have got to go to him, if he wants them. He doesn't take them all. And most of the ones he takes come back, though they don't remember much about what happened, and they're usually not so pretty anymore. Some of them, though-- some of them don't come back at all."

"How do the girls go to him? How are they chosen?"

"Anytime someone new moves in, his people check to see if there's a pretty girl in with them. They'll probably come to take you tonight. If there are any remotely pretty girls, they go with the Lion King's men, and they get presented to him in his court. And if he likes them, they stay there."

"Yes. It was not the same in my time, but it was similar." A fierce pain beat at me from within. "What of those who won't submit?"

"The Lion King's bullyboys don't give you a choice. You have to go with them."

I smiled bitterly and looked hard at Rachael. "You wanted to be my friend. Yet you made no attempt to warn me-- though you thought I was beautiful, and that must have meant you knew the Lion King's men would come for me."

"I was scared," Rachael whispered, looking down. "If I'd warned you, and you'd run away... and he found out..."

"You might find yourself walking to the ocean," I agreed. "No, I suppose it doesn't matter."

"Ah--" Rachael looked up. "Did it happen to you? Did you..."

"When the Lion King first came," I said, "I lived in the apartment I live in now, with my husband and my wife, Daro and Anzali."

"Your wife?" Rachael sounded startled, and then nodded. "Oh, right. Farlae live with two women and a man, don't they? I'd forgot."

"The Lion King summoned me. He had less power in those days, but he was less well known as well. I thought he would be a patron for my art, so I went willingly enough." I lost myself in memory a moment.

We had such bright happy lives then, and knew nothing of it. We had problems with bills, lovers' quarrels, emotional intrigues with the rest of the farla community, and we thought those were troubles. I was a naive innocent when I went to see the Lion King, thinking he had heard of my art. But what he wanted was not what I had created. What he wanted... was what I was.

The demand was for my body. I knew it went deeper than that. Farlae tend to be more sensitive to such things than humans; it was my soul he wanted, and I knew it. I refused. He threatened to kill me, to kill my husband and wife. I told him that all of us would rather die free than live as soulless slaves.

I looked up, shaking myself free of memory. "I was a naive fool," I said harshly. "But the Lion King has no more power over me." I stood up. "Rachael, I forgive you for not warning me. But if you tell the Lion King of his danger, or give him or anyone else any information concerning me, I will kill you slowly. Do you understand me?"

She nodded, shivering. She knew what I was capable of.

***

They came for me that night.

I feigned sleep, lying on the sagging mattress in the semblance of a nightgown, waiting for them. They unlocked my door and shook me, roughly, thinking they were waking me. "Get up. You've been summoned to the palace of the Lion King."

So even he called it a palace now. I looked at them with dazed eyes. "Do I have time to get into some clothes?"

One of them snickered. "Why bother? You'll just be taking them off again anyway." They all laughed.

I went with them in my nightgown and my artfully disheveled hair, out to their aircar and from there to Heaven. They brought me to the top floor, to the court of the Lion King. And I stood before the creature who'd destroyed my life, and felt the hatred surging in me, giving me strength. On the outside, I showed frightened, sleep-bewildered eyes, the face of a beautiful innocent.

"What is your name, girl?" he asked me. His voice was beautiful, rich and deep as the sea.

"Ashmi," I whispered, letting myself tremble. I looked down at my feet, at the enamel floor, and forced myself to see a reflection.

"Ashmi," he said reflectively. "I knew a farla named Ashmi once. Years ago... She looked much like you, but not as pale. And she gave me trouble. You won't give me trouble, girl, will you?"

"You should know what happens to those who resist the Lion King," one of his courtiers hissed.

"Disrobe," he ordered.

I stripped, letting the nightgown pool around my feet, and turned around for him like a bird on a spit as he ordered me to. Finally he smiled, showing sharp teeth. "She'll do. Take her to my chambers and have her wait."

I scooped up the nightgown and slipped back into it. Once I was in his chambers, alone, I let it disperse into mist. I sat on his bed, naked, and remembered our journey to the sea.

He had demanded me, body and soul. I'd refused, and he'd laughed. "You have spirit, don't you," he said. "Go home then. Go on back to your husband and wife. I have no shortage of beautiful women, that I need to trouble myself with you."

And gods help me, I thought I was free. I ran back to Daro and Anzali, to tell them what had happened, to seek their comfort. I ran up the stairs to the apartment, and into Daro's spotless kitchen, where the two of them had stayed up late, waiting for me.

But as I met their eyes, a compulsion struck, consuming the three of us. I explained nothing-- I couldn't speak. All I knew was that I had to go down to the sea and die, and that my loves felt the same way.

We left the apartment, holding hands, and began to walk. We felt as if we were in a dream, inexplicably shared. The empathic bond between us had twined around us all, dragging us down together. Perhaps this was intended to be my private nightmare, and the bond I had with my loves, the linkage between our minds, pulled them down with me. Or perhaps the Lion King had always intended to send us all. Throughout the night we walked, slowly, in a daze. The sea was normally half an hour's journey by aircar. On foot, holding hands and walking with dreamlike slowness, it took us all of the night and most of the next day. We were exhausted, but there was never any question of stopping. The sea pulled us with some strange gravity. Hydrotropic, we flowed down the path of least resistance, through the city and out, until we came to a cliff over the ocean.

I felt their love for me, and mine for them. I felt an overwhelming despair and exhaustion, a hunger for the ocean's balm. We looked at each other and nodded. Then we released one another, and separately we leapt into the sea.

Daro and Anzali were dashed against the rocks at the bottom, immediately. I fell into a deeper part, cushioned by water, and curled up in green darkness to sleep my despair away.

***

The Lion entered the room, awakening me from my reverie. "Good. You've got your clothes off." He smiled at me ferally. On him, it was more of a baring of teeth than a smile, and spoke of hunger. "Lie down."

He removed his own clothes and came to touch me, to cover me with his lightly furred body. "Gods of hell, you're cold, woman. What have you been doing, standing on the balcony with your clothes off?"

"It's a cold night," I whispered.

"I'll warm you, then." His hands had articulated digits, but furred fingers and pads on his palms. With these paws, he explored my body, finding no body heat anywhere. Alarmed, he licked at my neck, and when he found the reassuring taste of salt there bit in, drinking what ran through my veins.

What he needed was blood. All I had was seawater.

The Lion King jerked away, spluttering, and stared down at me. I smiled at him, the same baring of teeth he'd shown me.

"You knew me," I said. "Many years ago. And I gave you trouble."

He tried to back away then. But I grabbed him and pulled him down to the bed, pinning him under my weight, the weight of the ocean. I opened my jaws wide and let the semblance of normalcy fall from me, showing myself as I truly was-- a skeleton animated by seawater, a demon driven by hate. He screamed. I dove upon his throat and tore at it, drinking his hot blood as my claws dug into other parts of his body, tearing flesh away.

The Lion's life force was strong, fed by the blood of innocence and whatever demons he served. But my hate was stronger. He fought me, digging his teeth into my neck once more. All he drank was seawater. He tried to drink that, hoping to weaken me, but he might as well have tried to drink the ocean dry. I drank his blood and it was finite, though fortified with the blood of many victims. I ate bits of his flesh, torn away. As his struggles weakened, I released his neck and burrowed my face into his belly, chewing through the flesh. Drenched in blood, I reached my bony hand into the opening I'd made and clawed through his liver and lungs. Finally I tore out his heart and showed it to him. He died then.

The air was filled with a rustling noise. The souls he had stolen from young women, from men, from the neighborhood itself, fled from the punctured hole in his body. Some were partially consumed, and would never be strong again. The sight renewed my hatred, though my enemy was dead and his soul bound to the darkness.

For this moment alone I had the power. I had stolen the life force of the Lion King, and I had within me the strength of the sea and the energy of my hate. I could have called a tidal wave to destroy Heaven and all the tormentors within. The tormented would die as well, but that would be only a blessing, I felt. The neighborhood would be destroyed, but there was nothing in this blasted ruin of a hometown worth keeping anymore, was there? Destroy it all and let the survivors rebuild. Yes. I felt the charge build within me, and almost gave myself over to it.

But then Rachael would die as well. And she was an innocent, who had kept her soul, though the paw of the Lion had undoubtedly started to warp her. She had not warned me, but she'd tried to befriend me, as best she could with her fear of the Lion King. If I killed her with a tidal wave, I was no better than the Lion King, killing as it suited me.

There would be no tidal wave. I let the energy fade away. Let someone else save the city; I had done my part. I was so tired.

It was time to return to my ocean bed, and to my loves. I faded away, and let myself turn into mist, carried back to the sea.

#52 project #spooky 5 #writeober 2020 #tw: death #tw: implied rape #farla #galconfed universe #tw: mind control

26 notes · View notes

staircasttext · 3 years

Text

Ep 19: Beaver Tales

Episode 19

[intro music]

PAZ: Hi everyone, welcome back to Stairway to StarClan, a Warriors Cat reread pawdcast. I'm Paz.

JULIAN: I'm Julian.

LIZ: And I'm Liz.

PAZ: And we're back again this week with chapters seven to 10 of Forest of Secrets. I almost said Fire and Ice. No, we're done with that. Kind of a lot of in camp activities these chapters, I would say.

JULIAN: Yeah, some tightly focused drama.

PAZ: Yeah. I don't know anything, any pressing pre-summary thoughts, or should we just go into it?

LIZ: Let's just hop right in.

PAZ: Okay. Chapter seven. After Bluestar dismisses Fireheart, he bumps into Cinderpaw on her way to find herbs for Yellowfang and accompanies her. On the way out, they see Cloudkit and the other kits taunting Brokentail. Fireheart is conflicted and angry, and snatches Cloudkit away from Brokentail, telling the other kits to go back to the nursery. Darkstripe calls Fireheart a kittypet again, and Fireheart explains to Cloudkit what that means. He also tells Cloudkit that they were both kittypets, which shocks Cloudkit. Cloudkit vows to become a good warrior anyway, and Fireheart reminds him about being honorable.

Cinderpaw checks on Brokentail and Darkstripe returns into the den. Fireheart and Cinderpaw let Cloudkit come with them to find herbs, and she teaches Cloudkit a bit of what she's learned about foraging. While they talk about Cloudkit's future, Cloudkit eats some-- doesn't eat. That'd be bad if he. Cloudkit almost eats some poisonous berries before Cinderpaw stops him. Cloudkit, dead. He's dead now.

LIZ: Dead in Miami.

PAZ: Dead in chapter seven of Forest of Secrets. No, that didn't happen. He takes her warning seriously. Afterwards, Cinderpaw wonders what her future will be like, feeling uncertain and pained, and Fireheart encourages her to talk to Bluestar. He thinks briefly about Bluestar's reaction to Graypool's story again, and thinks to himself that it's beyond his understanding.

Chapter eight. Fireheart has a disturbing dream about kits suckling from a faceless grey queen, who then disappears. Spottedleaf appears, sheltering the kits, and the dream ends. When he wakes up, he thinks about Graypool's story again, noticing that Graystripe is also missing, seeing Silverstream, of course. He and Sandstorm decide to go hunting, taking poor Brackenpaw with them since Graystripe has forgotten about him again. Brackenpaw catches a bird, but they suddenly hear the sound of a kit in danger. They find a badger menacing Cloudkit and manage to chase it off. They wonder about how strange it was for a badger to be out in daytime. Cloudkit is returned safely to Brindleface, but Tigerclaw punishes him for wasting everyone's time, though isn't Cloudkit's fault. His punishment is to clean up for the elders.

Meanwhile, Yellowfang has taken Brokentail outside to talk about newleaf, while Darkstripe and Longtail act as guards. She's very gentle and motherly, but Brokentail doesn't respond. Fireheart watches sadly, thinking of mothers and kits, and then Mistyfoot and Stonefur again.

Chapter nine. While Cinderpaw tends to Brackenpaw's wounds from attacking the badger, Fireheart checks in on Cloudkit and helps him with tending to the elders. Fireheart tells him about having to tend to Yellowfang's ticks, her ass ticks, when he was younger, which cheers Cloudkit up.

Later, Fireheart sees Tigerclaw sneaking out of camp, so he decides to follow him. He notices Tigerclaw is getting close to Twolegplace, wondering if he's trying to track down Princess to hurt her. Fireheart also happens to catch a mouse on the way, which gives him an alibi for hunting, when he literally bumps into Tigerclaw soon after.

When Tigerclaw returns to camp, Fireheart checks around Twolegplace, where he smells that a lot of strange, unknown cats have been around in addition to Tigerclaw. He also meets with Princess briefly, and he tells her about how well Cloudkit is growing up, promising to bring him to see her in newleaf. On the way back to camp, he sees that newleaf's thaw has started.

Chapter 10. Fireheart tells Bluestar about the strange cat scents, and she says she'll send patrols out, thinking they might be rogues from Twolegplace. Two days later, newleaf has truly arrived, and there's plenty of food to hunt. Fireheart is pleased to see Cloudkit continuing to tend to the elders, even after his punishment has ended. Tigerclaw tells Fireheart to patrol the RiverClan border and renew the scent markings, and Fireheart realizes Tigerclaw is too clever to be hostile to him in public. He takes some other warriors with him, including Sandstorm and Graystripe, who is the most excited in case he sees Silverstream. However, they don't smell any RiverClan cats at all. The river has overflowed from the thaw, flooding Sunningrocks. And that's the end of the readings this week. What? Does anybody want to say anything?

JULIAN: Sorry, I was on the Wikipedia page for badgers again. Just for when we get to it.

PAZ: The Wikipedia page or like the Warriors wiki page?

JULIAN: No, the regular Wikipedia page.

PAZ: Oh, okay.

JULIAN: I was not on the Warriors wiki page, although I'm sure that's a rich vein.

LIZ: Oh, I'll check.

PAZ: No, don't. There's spoilers. Don't check.

LIZ: I'll just read the first sentence, how about that. There's only the first sentence and then the contents, like table of contents. They do have a picture of a real badger on there.

PAZ: That's beautiful.

LIZ: Not an illustrated one. "Badgers are thickset medium-sized animals with huge muscles and beady eyes that are mainly active at night, and are enemies to cats in the Warriors series." There you go.

JULIAN: Hot damn.

PAZ: Huge muscles.

JULIAN: The thing that I was reading on the actual Wikipedia page for badgers is that apparently they're usually pretty chill, unless they're cornered.

PAZ: Yeah, I thought so.

JULIAN: Yeah, it's saying that they often live alongside and will share their burrows with red foxes.

LIZ: Ooh.

PAZ: Wow.

JULIAN: "Foxes provide badgers with food scraps, and badgers maintain the shared burrows' cleanliness."

LIZ: Roommates.

PAZ: Wow, love is real.

JULIAN: "Although sometimes this can go wrong, and cases are known of badgers driving vixens from their dens and destroying their litters."

PAZ: [gasp]

LIZ: [gasp] Oh.

JULIAN: "In return, red foxes are known to have killed badger cubs in spring."

LIZ: Roommates to enemies.

PAZ: Roommates to enemies.

JULIAN: Sometimes your roommate situation goes south.

PAZ: Yeah, it can be like that with roommates. Yeah, I'm like, I thought badgers were fairly chill. They're not like wolverines.

LIZ: No.

JULIAN: No, they're pretty chill unless you corner them. And that's not what happened here.

PAZ: Maybe this badger has rabies. That was my first thought when it was like, it's out in the daytime.

JULIAN: Oh, that's possible.

PAZ: I was like, does this badger have rabies? Is Brackenpaw gonna get rabies?

LIZ: No.

JULIAN: He hasn't had his shots.

PAZ: Exactly. He hasn't had his rabies shots.

LIZ: This is why Fireheart is like the chosen one, or whatever.

PAZ: Speaking of Brackenpaw, poor Brackenpaw.

JULIAN: God.

LIZ: Poor little guy.

JULIAN: Fuckin, Graystripe, do your job. Do your job.

LIZ: How often does he have to see his girlfriend?

PAZ: Every hour of every day, apparently.

JULIAN: Like I get it. They don't have Skype. They can't write each other letters or like text or whatever. But like, you gotta deal.

LIZ: Make a schedule.

PAZ: Just go out at night, or something.

JULIAN: Have a weekly date night. And then be normal.

PAZ: I'm glad that the text pointed out that Graystripe sucks and is a bad teacher again because he is.

LIZ: Poor Brackenpaw.

JULIAN: Well, and it's having serious impacts on-- yeah. It's having serious impacts on Brackenpaw's like emotional health. He's really unsure of himself. And like, even when he did a really good job fighting off the badger, he's like, oh no, I'm sure it wasn't that-- like I didn't do that good.

LIZ: Brackenpaw is very cool. He caught a bird out of the air and then was very self-conscious about that.

PAZ: Yeah, he did a double-jump.

LIZ: Yeah. Where'd he learn that? Not Graystripe.

PAZ: Hell no. Graystripe wouldn't fight a badger. Graystripe would just leave.

JULIAN: Graystripe would leave the badger for someone else to deal with.

LIZ: There's that part where like Brackenpaw's like, oh, all the other apprentices are so much younger, but they're gonna be warriors before me.

PAZ: I know.

JULIAN: Also, like, Graystripe, do your job. Also Bluestar do your job.

PAZ: Bluestar... horrible leader.

JULIAN: Or-- not to be like, Tigerclaw should get in here. But like, if he's going to be aggressive and mean, maybe he should be aggressive and mean about the actual problems.

LIZ: He should just ground Graystripe for like a month.

JULIAN: Graystripe can deal with the elders' ticks.

PAZ: Okay, like, not to be like Tigerclaw's right again. But him giving Cloudkit a little like, oh, take care of the elders punishment seemed to work. Cloudkit gained some emotional maturity from that, so.

JULIAN: Yeah, I do have a note that's like his reasoning sucks, but this is good for Cloudkit.

PAZ: Yeah, Cloudkit needed that.

JULIAN: Also like, it integrates him better with the clan. Again, worst person you know made a great point.

LIZ: It's very funny. He just became like a mean teacher for a second. It's like, this is the 90s movie where Cloudkit is like the rowdy new transfer. Tigerclaw's like his mean math teacher or something, and he gives him extra homework. It makes his math better. I don't know. Is that how the movies go? Math, right? Math.

PAZ: Yeah. Uh-huh.

JULIAN: I didn't have a TV, so.

PAZ: Sure.

JULIAN: Yes?

LIZ: Well, I've never seen a movie, so we are equal here.

PAZ: I think we jumped around a little bit though. I guess we can--

JULIAN: We did. We jumped straight to chapter eight.

PAZ: I forgot when that happened. For some reason I thought Brackenpaw being abandoned started in chapter seven, but it is not. It's Cinderpaw.

LIZ: Just start, in my mind, poor guy.

JULIAN: Oh, Cinderpaw.

PAZ: Once again, Cinderpaw seems to be doing just fine. But Fireheart's manpain, like internal narrative is terrible. Be quiet.

JULIAN: There is a line about how he's not in the mood for sharing tongues with his friends, which I know we've covered this before. I will never get used to sharing tongues.

LIZ: Why isn't it just called cleaning?

JULIAN: Grooming.

LIZ: Yeah.

JULIAN: Well...

LIZ: There's a word for it. You got it.

PAZ: Yeah, I don't know. I don't know who decided that would be the term for it.

LIZ: Also, since we did like start out with, you know, seeing how like, we got to see how Brackenpaw felt about his situation, it's kind of like an capital-I Interesting contrast to see that in like Cinderpaw, cause we don't really get to see much of that, just kind of like Fireheart's man pain.

PAZ: I mean, she does like voice her feelings in this part, where she's like, I don't really know what I'm doing because we only have three jobs in our society. And no one's told me now what I should do.

LIZ: I guess it's like the way it cycles back to Fireheart, which...

PAZ: Yeah, that's true.

JULIAN: Yeah, the framing is very like Fireheart-centric, in a way that I wish it were not.

PAZ: Yeah, I agree.

JULIAN: God, it is like, he's so close, because there's one point where-- let me find the portion. Yeah. "Cinderpaw was brave and intelligent, and before her accident, she had shown endless energy and commitment to the clan. Surely that couldn't all be thrown away." Yeah, Fireheart, surely it couldn't. Like he's soooooo close. And yet so far away.

LIZ: My guy.

JULIAN: Like I'm glad she's found something that she can do, but blehhhhh.

LIZ: She was given one option by one person.

JULIAN: Well, and it's also in the like bit with the deathberries, um, like she does move very quickly when required. When the plot requires her to be able to move quickly, she sure can.

PAZ: Yeah, it's almost like she could hunt and stuff fine if anyone would just let her, or do anything else.

JULIAN: It's like right after he sees that that Fireheart is like, damn. Too bad she's helpless.

PAZ: Yeah, speaking of helplessness-- disability framed as helplessness, all this stuff with Brokentail at the start of chapter seven is also like what the hell.

LIZ: Ooh. Yikes.

JULIAN: It's so fucked.

LIZ: It's fucked.

PAZ: It frames him as completely helpless. I'm like, all he is is blind. He didn't like...

LIZ: He's still like an adult cat.

JULIAN: Right, he still has claws and like teeth. I fully expected him to kill one of the kits.

PAZ: He's just barely reacted. It's so weird.

JULIAN: Yeah, it's also just like, you know, I'm glad that Fireheart like takes Cloudkit aside and is like, Hey, don't do that.

LIZ: Yeah, it's fucking shitty. Don't do it.

JULIAN: But yeah, the fact that like-- and you know, it is framed as like a fucked up thing that the kits have done to like be taunting their prisoner, their disabled prisoner, but oooh! Yeesh.

PAZ: Yeah, it's like, it's one thing to like-- there was sort of a part where like Darkstripe like threatened Brokentail when like he almost clawed them, but like it wasn't really being framed as like, he's not doing it because he'll get, like, beat up by the guard. It was like-- he just barely reacted. And it was like, oh he couldn't track where the kits were. I'm like, he still has ears. He still has whiskers.

JULIAN: He has ears and whiskers and like scent.

LIZ: That's mostly what they hunt with anyway. It's not like they use their incredible bird's eye view to hunt the mouse.

JULIAN: Yeah, all the descriptions of hunting are like, oh, they hear the mouse rustling in the grass. Like they can't see the mouse.

PAZ: It's so weird.

LIZ: I mean, like we know why it's like this, and it's because the author didn't put the work into it to like-- just thinks this is the only way you can write your disabled character.

JULIAN: Yeah, I guess it really is sort of one finger curls on the monkey's paw. We were like, oh, I wish there were another disabled character besides Cinderpaw.

PAZ: Mm.

JULIAN: And we got one, and...

PAZ: Somehow worse.

JULIAN: He literally has Broken in the name.

PAZ: Yeah, but that scene-- oh, go ahead.

JULIAN: And then Fireheart gets-- oh sorry, I was gonna say, and then Fireheart gets to explain racism to Cloudkit.

LIZ: Oh my god.

PAZ: He literally says we have to work twice as hard. Oh my God.

JULIAN: Head in my hands.

PAZ: It's a kids book so I'll let it pass, but it is very funny.

LIZ: When's Cloudkit gonna have his lunchbox moment?

JULIAN: Oh God.

PAZ: He has his little catnip mouse. All the warriors are like, ew, what's that?

LIZ: Fuck.

JULIAN: Oh, God.

PAZ: Princess gives him some Temptations to take back to camp.

JULIAN: To bring home to them. To all his friends.

LIZ: And when all his friends are like, you know, in college, they're gonna be going to all the overpriced fusion Temptations bars.

PAZ: Oh god.

JULIAN: All the catnip lounges.

LIZ: Terrible.

JULIAN: Also, not only is Fireheart explaining racism to Cloudkit, but he's also telling Cloudkit that he's adopted, which is a lot.

PAZ: Yeah, I mean to be fair, Fireheart thought that he already knew.

JULIAN: Which is also, how did he not know?

PAZ: I don't know. I guess he just never like brought it up with Brindleface.

JULIAN: But they were all teasing him for being a kittypet.

PAZ: Were they?

LIZ: Maybe.

JULIAN: I think so.

PAZ: I don't know if they ever did it to his face.

JULIAN: I guess it was mostly like-- yeah.

PAZ: Well, he said like, so that's why everyone hates me but I don't know if anyone ever called him a kittypet like to his face.

JULIAN: Yeah, no, I think you're right. Damn.

PAZ: I do love that Cloudkit says, "'so that's why the other cats hate me,' he spat. 'They think I'll never be any good because I wasn't born in this dump of a forest.'"

LIZ: Get 'em.

PAZ: So good. Get 'em.

LIZ: I love his like immediate turnaround like fuck this house. None of you are my dad.

PAZ: He's such a funny child.

JULIAN: There's a bit later where when Fireheart meets with Princess, he's like, yeah, your son's doing great. Um, and then mentally he's like, yeah, and he's spoiled and like nosy. But I do love him.

PAZ: He's very fun.

LIZ: Just a little rowdy boy.

PAZ: Yeah, he's a little brat rowdy boy.

LIZ: He's definitely like a season two protagonist.

JULIAN: Mm, mm-hmm.

LIZ: Know what I mean?

PAZ: Yeah? You think, second series?

LIZ: Mm-hmm. It's like, no, it's not about the power of friendship anymore. It's about the power of me winning the sports game, except it is friendship, but I have to get through a couple of my own walls first, because of--

JULIAN: What sport do you think the cats will be inventing?

LIZ: What's a good one for them to play? Soccer. There you go.

PAZ: Yeah, they would love to bat a little ball around.

JULIAN: Or like a sort of--

LIZ: A moss ball.

JULIAN: I was gonna say, sort of a, like, Maya toss ball situation, where you have to get the ball into the hoop.

LIZ: They can have one more job then. It's hoop maker.

JULIAN: Hoop maker and athlete.

PAZ: Wow.

JULIAN: Two more jobs. Three more jobs if they need referees.

PAZ: Wow. They can do like, like inter clan sports competitions, and that'll get all the bloodlust out when they just, you know, they play sports.

JULIAN: What if the cats have football riots though?

LIZ: They would. They will. It's terrible. Who's England in this situation?

JULIAN: ThunderClan, right?

LIZ: Yeah. Boo.

PAZ: Has to be.

JULIAN: Like, thinks they're good, has done many crimes.

PAZ: Exactly.

JULIAN: Although I guess ShadowClan is like the most obviously expansionist, so.

PAZ: They're all England.

LIZ: Ugh.

JULIAN: Maybe ThunderClan is like Germany

LIZ: They'll also probably need more like medics. So that's not a new job, but it is like expanding it.

PAZ: Yeah, more than two doctors.

LIZ: Oh, what a luxury.

JULIAN: More than one and a half doctors.

PAZ: Speaking of the doctors, it's very like stupid that Cinderpaw's like, oh I don't know what I'll do. And it's like, you're acting as the medicine cat. Throughout all these chapters, you were just a second doctor. And Fireheart's also like, I have no idea. Oh, you'll have to talk to Bluestar.

LIZ: Assigned doctor.

PAZ: I bet Yellowfang's gonna be like, um, I thought you were already my apprentice like three weeks ago.

LIZ: Well, did she ask?

PAZ: I guess, I don't know. It's just like--

LIZ: Listen, these cats are pretty dense.

JULIAN: Yellowfang seems like the kind of character who doesn't ask for things but sort of tries to trick people into doing nice things for them. She's like, oh, uh, oh, whoops, I made all this soup. You have to eat it or it'll go to waste.

LIZ: Tricks you into a paying job.

JULIAN: Yeah, Cinderpaw has a little moment where she's like, oh, yeah, I'm gonna have to move out of Yellowfang's den. And it's like, will you? I don't think you will. Has she asked you to?

LIZ: She probably already made you a room.

PAZ: Yeah, I'm pretty sure she has a bed there. I mean not just like her, like recovering bed.

JULIAN: Yellowfang like carefully decorating the walls while Cinderpaw's out.

LIZ: Yellowfang makes her a Welcome Home Temptations cake with a little ribbon.

PAZ: Cinderpaw also says, "ever since I was a tiny kit I wanted to be like Bluestar," and I'm like, no you don't.

LIZ: No. I mean she probably did.

JULIAN: Yeah, that's the lie of being a girlboss.

PAZ: I think you're better off.

JULIAN: Yeah, it seems like Bluestar isn't doing so hot.

LIZ: The part where Fireheart tells her like, oh, Bluestar will know what to do.

PAZ: I know. I was like, I don't think so.

JULIAN: When has Bluestar ever known what to do?

LIZ: For like five chapters in the first book.

PAZ: Yeah, and in like the beginning of book two with WindClan. And then it was kinda over.

LIZ: I don't know what's happening lately. Maybe she got taken over by the ghost of a cat that's not good at being...

JULIAN: Speaking of Yellowfang, the scenes with her and Brokentail are so sad.

PAZ: Like her being like, she's being motherly to him, and him just like, absolutely not responding. Of course he doesn't know that she's his mom.

JULIAN: Right. Woof.

LIZ: [sighs]

PAZ: Drama.

LIZ: There's a part where it says like, she makes like little mom noises at him.

PAZ: Yeah, I was in tears.

JULIAN: Or like, she was like grooming him, and like he does not even move.

LIZ: Aw.

JULIAN: Yellowfang, it's okay. You have so many other children.

PAZ: I know. This kid sucks.

JULIAN: You have so many children who don't suck.

PAZ: I guess we didn't really talk about that prophecy dream Fireheart had, but it wasn't really that interesting.

JULIAN: Yeah, it didn't really tell us anything that we don't already know.

PAZ: Yeah, it was just Spottedleaf being like Fireheart, you idiot. You know who those kits are.

LIZ: Who's that gray cat?

PAZ: I don't know.

LIZ: Well, there are so many gray cats, just.

PAZ: It's true.

LIZ: Like there's definitely more than-- like I knew about them, but it just seems more pointed out now for some reason. Is that just me? Like, it talks about how Cinderpelt is-- sorry, Cinderpaw. I know what happens later, name-wise. How she's gray. We already know Graystripe's gray. There's Graypool, there's Silverstream, there's that other guy. There's Yellowfang?

JULIAN: Stonefur?

PAZ: No, Yellowfang has black fur, I think.

JULIAN: Or like dark brown.

LIZ: Dark brown?

PAZ: Yeah. Persian cat.

JULIAN: Yeah, it does feel like they're like, hey, look, like all these gray cats. Parallels.

LIZ: It's cause there's no black and white.

PAZ: Was Oakheart gray too? How many fucking gray cats were there?

LIZ: Lots.

JULIAN: [typing] Oakheart Warriors wiki. He was... uh, no. He was reddish-brown.

PAZ: Well.

LIZ: That's a lot more uncommon, I think, like a reddish brown cat that isn't like a tabby or something. Like you ever see a brown cat? Like a brown brown cat?

JULIAN: I have, but it's definitely, like--

PAZ: Just pure brown? Yeah, those are a--

JULIAN: A weird-looking color.

PAZ: Those kinds of cats always look really smooth. It's probably a breed, that kind I'm thinking of.

LIZ: They look like just little like wild cats.

JULIAN: Oh, it's a Havana Brown.

LIZ: Hmm.

PAZ: We already talked about Brackenpaw being abandoned. The badger, of course,

LIZ: I don't know, does he become more prominent later?

PAZ: Brackenpaw?

JULIAN: Who?

LIZ: Yeah.

PAZ: I cannot-- I literally cannot remember.

JULIAN: Yeah, I also super do not remember.

LIZ: Is there like, I don't know, like, just like a fanfiction that's like a day in the life of Brackenpaw? What's he do? Poor guy.

PAZ: I feel like maybe I remember this scene.

JULIAN: I don't see anything like super big that he does later, but.

LIZ: Aw. Okay, new Patreon goal. Listen, if we get to $420. I don't know what'll happen.

PAZ: Oh. Sorry, I'm just reading something. I forgot who he mentored.

JULIAN: There is a nice little sentence here, first paragraph. "He was apprenticed early with the name Brackenpaw, mentored by Graystripe. However, Graystripe neglected his duties." Hell yeah he did.

LIZ: Bitch.

PAZ: "And Brackenpaw's training was mostly completed by Fireheart." Uh-huh.

LIZ: Yeah.

JULIAN: Yep.

PAZ: That's right.

LIZ: It's definitely more apparent in these chapters like that the other cats are picking up the slack, too, which is nice, but.

JULIAN: Yeah, Whitestorm and the other guy are like, yeah, we're gonna take all the cats out, all the apprentices out for a hunt.

PAZ: School field trip.

LIZ: But is it like-- does it feel like, oh, I'm like a sixth grader, and these are all first graders?

PAZ: Yeah, that seems to be the vibe because Brackenpaw's like really upset about it.

LIZ: He can't talk about Fortnite with them. They're too young.

JULIAN: Oh shit, new pixel art of Graystripe just dropped.

PAZ: Oh shit.

LIZ: What?

JULIAN: I think this is new. I don't remember seeing this. He's all fluffy in this pixel art. From the Warriors wiki.

LIZ: Whoa.

PAZ: Whoa. Why's he so dark?

JULIAN: I know, right?

LIZ: No, it's because he's wet from being in Riverclan all the time.

PAZ: Of course.

LIZ: [snickers]

PAZ: What? Got that trap neuter return ear?

LIZ: I was just gonna say that. What happened to you, Graystripe?

PAZ: Maybe if his balls got cut off that would solve a lot of problems.

JULIAN: God.

LIZ: I think he'd still be a bitch. He didn't have a girlfriend when he was like, mm, I don't know about this Tigerclaw being a murder thing

PAZ: God, I can't get over that. I mean, there's a badger scene. There's Cloudkit getting his punishment.

LIZ: What is the level of sentience that badgers have here?

PAZ: I don't know.

JULIAN: Well. I mean, there's some stuff later. But I don't know about badgers in general.

PAZ: Yeah, I don't know if all badgers are sentient or not.

LIZ: Okay, well, the way you guys said that made me think there's like a special badger.

PAZ: No comment.

LIZ: Hmm.

JULIAN: I really love how much of this description is clearly copied from Wikipedia or like an encyclopedia article about badgers. I don't think that it's been revealed anywhere in the Warrior books that male and female badgers generally have the same head-body length falling between 56 and 90 centimeters.

LIZ: God bless.

JULIAN: I just don't think the cats are thinking in centimeters.

LIZ: Oh, they use inches?

JULIAN: Oh, there's a source for all this. Oh, it's revealed on animaldiversity.ummz.umich.edu. Yep.

PAZ: Of course.

JULIAN: I do love that they continue to use the revealed language for...

PAZ: It's so funny. I was reading about the supposed Warriors film and it was of course, all revealed on variety.com.

LIZ: Variety?

PAZ: Yeah.

LIZ: I see.

JULIAN: Oh, this badger looks so cute. There's a badger art from the badger from Secrets of the Clans, which is one of the Warrior guidebooks, and it has--

PAZ: Oh my gosh.

LIZ: Oh my god.

JULIAN: The roundest, softest face.

PAZ: Oh my god, I'm in tears.

LIZ: Oh my god.

PAZ: This badger looks like the picture of the cat who's been photoshopped to be crying.

LIZ: What has this badger seen?

JULIAN: Also, that's not a Eurasian badger. That's an American badger.

PAZ: Yeah, that is definitely not.

JULIAN: That's the wrong species.

LIZ: What the fuck's a Eurasian badger look like?

JULIAN: It's got the long--

PAZ: It's the classic like black and white striped one, right?

JULIAN: Yeah, so like if you look at the picture at the top of the wiki article, it's a badger with a much longer face with stripes that go all the way down. And that's a Eurasian badger, and the American badger has a much rounder babier looking face.

LIZ: What a sad looking little guy. What have you seen? Do you think the American badger's looking over at like England or whatever with its incredible Hawkeye vision like, oh, that poor little Brackenpaw. If it was me, I wouldn't have attacked a little baby kitten. Oh, those poor cats.

JULIAN: Oh, I'm sorry. I know we got to move off of the Wikipedia page, but I found an amazing picture of an American badger.

PAZ: Please.

LIZ: We'll post these badger pictures on the Twitter. Don't you guys worry.

PAZ: If we remember. Oh my god.

JULIAN: Look at that lad!

LIZ: Oh my God. Oh my god.

PAZ: Holy shit.

LIZ: This looks fake.

PAZ: This looks like they stretched the jpeg.

JULIAN: It's on illinois.gov.

LIZ: What?

JULIAN: It's on the Department of Natural Resources.

PAZ: [wheezing] What is-- what--

LIZ: Chunky.

PAZ: What's wrong with its head?

JULIAN: I mean, they fucking, they all look like this.

LIZ: Nothing. It's perfect.

JULIAN: Here's from the Encyclopedia Britannica.

PAZ: Oh my god.

LIZ: I didn't know they looked like this.

JULIAN: Look at him. There he goes, trot, trot.

LIZ: His powerful stance.

PAZ: They're so wide. I can't. They look like potatoes.

JULIAN: Absolute legend.

LIZ: That's how they make those tunnels. They just like wiggle.

JULIAN: Here's a European badger, just to like for comparison. We can-- I'm putting all these images in the chat so we can tweet them later. Just a long boy. Just a looong slinky boy.

PAZ: Yeah, that's a much less wide, wide lad.

LIZ: Very classic.

PAZ: Still very round nose.

JULIAN: Oh, here's one running.

LIZ: Oh my god.

JULIAN: Thank you Shutterstock. Thank you Shutterstock. Thank you whichever photographer hid out in a wild, in like a lane somewhere in England.

PAZ: Oh my god. Look at it go.

JULIAN: To catch this lad.

LIZ: Oh my god.

PAZ: It looks like--

LIZ: He go.

PAZ: You know the like boom mic on TVs that they--

LIZ: Yes.

PAZ: It looks like one of those.

JULIAN: Oh, I love him.

LIZ: What's that thing you keep telling me to get for my mic?

PAZ: Oh, a pop filter?

LIZ: Yeah. He looks like a pop filter.

JULIAN: I'm also seeing an image that says, it's a infographic about the differences between the European badger and American badger, but [laughing] the European badger is clearly a beaver.

LIZ: Wait.

JULIAN: Like, could not more clearly be a beaver.

PAZ: What?

LIZ: Wait a minute. Is this just a little nature joke? Little humor?

JULIAN: No, this is a whole... everything you need to know.

LIZ: Oh dear.

PAZ: Well, the first thing you need to know is that's not the European badger.

JULIAN: That's not a fucking badger. Oh, I know that this is clearly a content farm and someone just did a bad job. But this is a beaver. This is a beaver.

LIZ: This looks like a meme.

JULIAN: They do have it correct that none of these are good pets.

PAZ: No.

LIZ: True. God, look at that guy go. I can't stop looking at it. It's just running. Where's he going?

JULIAN: He has important business.

LIZ: Gotta go attack a baby. Heard that baby's an atheist.

PAZ: That's why the badger went for it.

JULIAN: The badger's here to enforce, uh. Oh, I'm sorry, I can't get over the beaver.

PAZ: Okay, we gotta move on.

LIZ: It's a badger.

JULIAN: We gotta move on. We gotta move on.

LIZ: A European badger.

PAZ: Cloudkit got attacked by a beaver.

LIZ: Just turns around and like, waps you.

JULIAN: Oh. Alright, what else happened in these chapters?

PAZ: I guess the next thing we didn't talk about, um, I mean we talked a little about... I guess Fireheart and Cloudkit have another little bonding scene getting the moss.

JULIAN: Yeah, that was cute. And then Tigerclaw's up to some shit again.

PAZ: Of course. Yeah, Tigerclaw going to Twolegplace to do nefarious things. There was a point where his pawprints were described as massive, which was extremely funny to me.

JULIAN: I love the image of Tigerclaw's just enormous big ol beans.

PAZ: Huge beans.

LIZ: Big ol beans compared to cats, though. How big could they be?

PAZ: Well, have you ever seen a cat with real, real big paw to body ratio? That's what I'm imagining. Like he's a big cat but his paws are even bigger.

LIZ: Yeah, but he could still fit in like...

PAZ: What if Tigerclaw's like a polydactyl? Is that what they're called?

LIZ: Oh, absolutely.

JULIAN: [gasps] Yes.

PAZ: Multiple toes.

LIZ: He's got thumbs so that's why he can commit all his crimes.

PAZ: It all makes sense.

LIZ: All dexterity. How did Tigerclaw kill all those other cats? He's got a gun.

PAZ: Holy shit.

JULIAN: I mean, he has been hanging out with all these back alley cats that smell like trash.

LIZ: These city cats.

JULIAN: This is how guns enter the rural English countryside.

PAZ: I love that Fireheart just keeps collecting evidence that Tigerclaw's evil, and he just can't do anything about it because Bluestar is useless.

LIZ: I just can't believe that in these chapters, there's that part specifically where he says Bluestar will know what to do.

PAZ: [snorts]

JULIAN: Right, it's like last-- well, I mean, I feel like he still thinks it's his fault, that he like didn't frame it right last time. Which is very sad.

PAZ: Yeah, but like, he tried to tell her twice. And each time she's been like, no,

LIZ: But it's definitely like being set up for that, right? Because this is very like his own perspective and it's gonna be a dramatic irony turn later.

JULIAN: Mm.

LIZ: Is that too hopeful?

PAZ: We'll see.

LIZ: [darkly] Mm.

PAZ: He does literally run into Tigerclaw.

JULIAN: He does. It's very funny.

LIZ: Right, he's like--

JULIAN: Bounces right off him anime-style.

LIZ: No, he's tailing him, right, and then he's like, oh fuck, but there's this mouse. Ooh, but I gotta--

PAZ: It's so funny. His little cat attention span.

LIZ: It's very video game, too. It's like, okay, main quest. Wait, fuck. Ooh. Mm. Give me a second.

PAZ: I'll be real quick. I just gotta. Yeah, there's a nasty cat smell. Princess shows back up. She's like, you're so thin.

JULIAN: She's like, hey, you're feeding my son, right?

LIZ: Princess having some second thoughts. It's like, maybe I should have gotten my fucking kid vaccinated before he went.

JULIAN: Maybe I should have let him reach like an adult size. Then his growth wouldn't be stunted.

PAZ: She's like, are you getting enough to eat, and Fireheart's just like, no. Doesn't even try to lie.

JULIAN: Imagine being Princess, though. It's like, your shithead brother comes back, is clearly malnourished, and you're like, oh my god, like, I have food at home. Come get some food. And he's like, I can't. The clan. It's like, buddy.

PAZ: He's just in a cult.

JULIAN: He's in a cult. She's trying her best to help him. Well, not really. She's not.

LIZ: Well, she--

PAZ: No, she gave her son to the cult.

JULIAN: She gave him her son.

LIZ: He could have just rolled in some garlic or whatever.

PAZ: Right? Didn't he roll in fox dung before? That was fine.

LIZ: Eat the Temptations.

JULIAN: Eat the Temptations. And then eat some like, I don't know, chives or something so no one can smell the Temptations, the sweet, sweet smell of Temptations on your breath.

LIZ: Just eat some catnip, damn.

PAZ: A single Temptation would kill a Warrior cat dead. Be overwhelming.

JULIAN: God, they really are just like medieval peasants out there in the woods, eating their bowls of gruel. If they got a single bite of tender ocean fish dinner, they would just keel over.

LIZ: Don't they make like beggin strips or whatever for cats now?

JULIAN: Mm-hmm.

PAZ: Probably.

LIZ: You think like the Warriors have a little, little pot of catgrass? I don't think so.

PAZ: No.

LIZ: Everything out there's poisonous.

JULIAN: Well, at the fancy boutique pet bakery in my neighborhood, because of course there is one of those, they do have whole dried fish treats.

LIZ: Wow.

JULIAN: That you can give your cat, if you I guess don't care about having to sweep up after them.

LIZ: Wow.

JULIAN: We have never given one of those to Chickpea because I think she would-- it would be too much for her.

PAZ: No offense to Chickpea, but she doesn't seem to have very discerning taste.

JULIAN: No, no, she really wants Cheez-its.

LIZ: Aw.

JULIAN: She wants Cheez-its so bad.

PAZ: I can relate. I could go for some Cheez-its.

LIZ: She does look like someone who loves to crunch.

JULIAN: Today she knocked-- she loves to crunch. She loves to crunch, and I love to hear her crunch, so it's a win-win. Today she climbed on top of the fridge, again, to try to get the food that is no longer there because we moved it. And she knocked over like the 12 pack of Coke that was up there.

PAZ: Oh my gosh.

LIZ: Oh my god. Does she even weigh 12 packs of coke?

JULIAN: No. Well, there were probably like five or six in there. Um, but she tried to jump on it and then obviously her momentum-- she didn't have great purchase on top of the fridge, so it fell off. I just heard a clatter and came out, and she was looking very, um, you know cats do when it's like, oh I didn't do that. I'm the most distinguished.

PAZ: Kip goes up on the top of our fridge and knocks things over on purpose. He'll like look at me, and knock it off the top of the fridge.

JULIAN: Real Cloudkit. Real Cloudkit energies on that one.

LIZ: Kip's an atheist.

PAZ: Absolutely. Wow. Chapter 10.

JULIAN: Chapter 10.

LIZ: Wait, wait.

PAZ: Oh, yeah?

LIZ: No, just, what if we got one of those like, you know those YouTubes that are always like me making a gourmet cat-friendly meal for my cats?

PAZ: Yeah?

LIZ: We just gotta do that. And I don't know. I think that that has more pull than Temptations, maybe. It's like I made you cat sushi, or I made you like a cat cake.

PAZ: Are you saying that's what'll get Fireheart inside?

LIZ: I think so.

JULIAN: He's got discerning tastes is what you're saying.

LIZ: Mm-hmm.

JULIAN: He needs that raw meat.

PAZ: He does.

JULIAN: What even happened in chapter 10? I just have a note, Whitestorm is a good guy.

PAZ: That's true. Was he even mentioned?

JULIAN: Which is accurate.

PAZ: Was that him taking out the apprentices or something?

LIZ: I think so, yeah.

JULIAN: I think that's where I've, yeah.

PAZ: I've seen a lot of, I think Whitestorm X Tigerclaw stuff on YouTube. I think that's right.

LIZ: That is very funny.

PAZ: I love Tigerclaw's many exes. First Redtail. Now Whitestorm.

JULIAN: Well, I guess the reason we don't remember anything from chapter 10 is it's literally eight pages long.

PAZ: Yeah, it's real short. Fireheart tells Bluestar that there's nasty cats over at Twolegplace, but can't tell her that Tigerclaw is there, because he's like she just won't believe me.

JULIAN: Then they go on a little patrol and they go to RiverClan, and the river's flooded. Uh-oh.

PAZ: It sure is flooded.

JULIAN: I guess that's the downside to having your camp in the middle of the river.

PAZ: Yeah, I wonder if their camp's doing okay.

JULIAN: Yeah. Uh-oh.

LIZ: Oh boy.

PAZ: Uh-oh. I didn't even think about that.

LIZ: Whuh-oh.

JULIAN: I'm sure it's fine that Graystripe is on this patrol.

PAZ: Listen, one time he decides to do work is when he's like maybe I'll see my gf on the way.

JULIAN: God.

PAZ: Please, what are you gonna fucking do if you do see her?

LIZ: He's so annoying.

JULIAN: Well, he's gonna have a double date with Sandstorm and Fireheart and him and his gf and also--

PAZ: Running whoever. What's that guy's name? Runningwind.

JULIAN: Also Runningwind is there.

PAZ: Wow. Fifth wheel Runningwind.

LIZ: Well, maybe Runningwind will find his own starcrossed like cat romance. Triple date. Yes.

JULIAN: There you go.

PAZ: Perfect.

JULIAN: Runningwind slash, who's in... Stonefur.

PAZ: Oh.

LIZ: What do we call that?

PAZ: Runningstone. I'm Googling Runningwind. Don't Google Runningwind, Liz.

LIZ: I'm never going to get into that fucking spoiler channel. What's going on in there? I don't know.

PAZ: Runningwind stories Wattpad. "This is my spin on Warriors: The Prophecies Begin, just with a reader insert. I do not own Warriors. I only own the plot points I use." Oh, here we go. Redtail x Runningwind. Ooh.

LIZ: What?

PAZ: Tell me more.

JULIAN: Ohh.

PAZ: I'm intrigued.

JULIAN: I think this is literally the first time we've seen Runningwind say anything onscreen.

PAZ: Okay, this is someone posting on the forums, "I am utterly baffled by this ship."

LIZ: Well, them saying that makes me want to be like--

PAZ: Oh, fuck this person. They say, "I understand the trans Redtail thing, but I don't really like it. But I don't really care too much." Still, die.

JULIAN: Well, I don't care about you. I don't care about your opinion.

LIZ: Well, yeah.

PAZ: Your opinion is horrible.

JULIAN: And I think Redtail is trans. This is the first I've heard of this headcanon and I would now die for it.

LIZ: Redtail is trans and gay.

PAZ: We've heard of trans Redtail before. Yeah.

JULIAN: Have we?

PAZ: Apparently Redtail-- yeah, that was that one Youtuber's name.

JULIAN: Oh my god, right. It's the YouTuber. I'm sorry.

PAZ: Apparently Redtail was a male calico so yeah, trans Redtail.

JULIAN: Oh!

LIZ: Hell yeah.

PAZ: Just like Hadesclipse.

JULIAN: Just like Hadesclipse.

PAZ: Redtail likes Hadesclipse. This is my self insert.

LIZ: You're gonna have to fight Runningwind.

JULIAN: I guess Runningwind has been here before on screen. I just forgot about him. He helped train Brackenpaw back in Fire and Ice when Graystripe was once again not doing his job.

LIZ: He's just like a nice fellow.

JULIAN: Yeah, he's just a guy.

PAZ: I do not respect the person who made this forum thread at all.

LIZ: Yeah, get outta here, OP.

JULIAN: Uh-oh.

PAZ: Yeah?

JULIAN: I've read some stories or some spoilers for, uh.

PAZ: Yeah?

JULIAN: For later.

PAZ: Well, how bad--

LIZ: Wait, hold on a second. Wait. How come Julian gets to do it and not me?

PAZ: Because Julian's read the books!

JULIAN: Cause this is all shit that I should already know, I just don't remember.

LIZ: Mm. Hmm.

PAZ: Listen, once we finish the Power of Three, you can go wild, because that's up to where we got to. I don't know what we were doing.

LIZ: Chapter 10?

JULIAN: Chapter 10. The eight-page chapter 10. RiverClan is flooded.

PAZ: RIP RiverClan.

LIZ: Oh, sorry. Go ahead.

PAZ: I was just saying RIP RiverClan.

LIZ: I do want to talk about the one thing where Tigerclaw's telling Fireheart to patrol and then Fireheart is like, oh, he's too smart to be hostile to me in public. But he is, though.

PAZ: Right? He's already been hostile to you many times.

LIZ: He calls you a little bitch like every single day in front of people.

PAZ: For real.

JULIAN: It's like, you don't really need to set Fire-- or set Tigerclaw up as like conniving because he's already been conniving. We've seen him be conniving. Part of his connivingness is that he calls you a little bitch every day, and you can't do anything about it because he's the deputy.

PAZ: It's not like-- his whole posse calls Fireheart a little bitch. Fireheart got called a kittypet like two chapters ago.

LIZ: Right? The problem is that people don't care.

JULIAN: Fucking Longtail and Dustpelt.

PAZ: Yeah, and Darkstripe.

LIZ: One of those is like someone's brother, right?

JULIAN: Dustpelt is Sandstorm's brother.

PAZ: No, no, no, no, no.

LIZ: No, wait.

PAZ: They were just apprentices. He's, um, I think he's technically Ravenpaw's brother.

LIZ: Oh, right right right.

JULIAN: Is he?

PAZ: Or something like that.

LIZ: Someone is Ravenpaw's brother.

JULIAN: Oh, I just assumed they were siblings because they were...

PAZ: But it's like, not really--

JULIAN: Oh, you're right. He is Ravenpaw's brother.

LIZ: Wild.

JULIAN: And he's Longtail's half brother.

PAZ: Bitch.

JULIAN: Oh, he's such a little bitch because Darkstripe was his mentor.

LIZ: Duh.

PAZ: Oh. Sorry, I just saw a spoiler for the.... Oh man.

LIZ: These cats. I think that's it though for the chapters, right?

JULIAN: Yeah.

PAZ: Yeah. Sorry. Sorry, Dustpelt had a son.

LIZ: What?

PAZ: Called Spiderleg.

JULIAN: [snorting]

LIZ: You can't do that. What about a cat is spidery?

JULIAN: Peyton's gonna be so angry.

LIZ: Please.

PAZ: That's incredible. I'm clicking Spiderleg's wiki page.

LIZ: Wait, I think Dustpelt should have eight children, no, nine children, and they should all be like Spiderleg 1, Spiderleg 2, Spiderleg 3, until you get to 8. And then you should have one just be like Spiderhead.

JULIAN: Oh holy shit.

LIZ: And then they can stand on top of each other like a mech.

JULIAN: Dustpelt is also Birchfall's father.

PAZ: Oh.

JULIAN: Birchfall of the bad name.

PAZ: I bet Peyton hates Spiderleg too.

JULIAN: Yeah, I guess, uh. Well, whoever the leader is the person who gave the leg name because Spiderkit is... I mean, it's a weird name. But it's a fine one.

LIZ: Oh God.

JULIAN: Oh, I hate that the pixel art here is this cat is looking directly at me. Usually the pixel art, the cat is kind of like, you know, three quarter view, like looking off into the distance. Spiderleg? Looking into my eyes.

PAZ: Sorry, what? Here's a quote caption. "Spiderleg annoyed with Dovepaw when she talks about brown animals." What?

JULIAN: What?

LIZ: Hey, Spiderleg, you, hey, what?

PAZ: What? Brown animals.

JULIAN: [yells]

LIZ: What is that noise you just made?

JULIAN: [hysterical laughter]

PAZ: Hold on. Just gonna screenshot this.

JULIAN: [creaks]

PAZ: If my phone will let me.

JULIAN: Oh God.

PAZ: It all comes full circle.

JULIAN: It really does.

LIZ: [laughing] Oh my god.

PAZ: I clicked "brown animals," and it took me to the beaver page.

LIZ: What does it mean?

PAZ: "Friendly? No."

LIZ: What does it mean?

JULIAN: Beavers aren't friendly?

PAZ: No.

JULIAN: "Relation to clan cats. If provoked they're able to kill a cat with their sharp front teeth."

PAZ: Holy shit.

LIZ: Is that true?

JULIAN: That has never happened.

PAZ: I do not think so.

LIZ: Wait. [typing] Can beavers kill cats. [gasps]

JULIAN: Beaver versus cat.

LIZ: "Beaver attacks can be fatal to domestic animals."

JULIAN: [gasps]

PAZ: Holy shit.

LIZ: There's a whole Wikipedia page for beaver attack.

PAZ: I never would have guessed.

LIZ: Oh, you gotta see this beaver. You gotta see the beaver they use. Look at him, looking at you.

JULIAN: Oh.

PAZ: Oh no.

LIZ: What the fuck?

PAZ: He's so round. I'm so scared.

LIZ: Got his little paws together like [evil laugh] I will.

JULIAN: A beaver has killed a man.

LIZ: What?

JULIAN: Yeah.

PAZ: "Relation to clan cats." Oh, go ahead.

JULIAN: Um, I mean, okay, so this is a 60 year old guy who grabbed the beaver, to take a photo with it.

LIZ: Oh my god.

JULIAN: And the beaver bit open his femoral artery.

PAZ: Oh, okay, he shouldn't have done that.

LIZ: Yikes.

JULIAN: So it was like, you shouldn't have done it. Also, it was like bad luck. It just happened to get the femoral.

PAZ: Here's what the Warriors wiki has to say. "Relation to clan cats. Beavers are known to be both inquisitive with cats, but also aggressive if provoked."

JULIAN: Oh my god?

LIZ: Well, how many beavers are they gonna see in England?

JULIAN: There are beavers in England.

PAZ: Yeah, there are beavers.

LIZ: Have we covered this? This feels...

PAZ: I feel like we have, yes.

JULIAN: I think we have. There's beavers in the Narnia book.

LIZ: Aren't they like-- isn't it that like beavers have been recently reintroduced or something?

JULIAN: Yes, we talked about this because they were hunted for their fur to almost extinction, and then they made a big comeback.

PAZ: To kill cats.

LIZ: Good for them?

JULIAN: Good for them. Aw, this is one sleeping and he's all curled up into his tail.

LIZ: I'm just looking at the list of non fatal attacks on humans by beavers.

PAZ: Get 'em.

LIZ: While you say this. Goddamn.

JULIAN: Oh, this image is too powerful for Discord.

PAZ: Understandable.

LIZ: Can you screenshot it?

JULIAN: Oh, I just posted the link, because it's 6000 by 4000 pixels.

LIZ: Oh my god.

PAZ: Aw. Have you guys seen baby beavers? They are an incredible shape.

LIZ: Oh yeah. Mm-hmm.

JULIAN: Oh, I don't think I have. Baby beavers. Listeners, I hope you enjoy our animal googling. Oh!

PAZ: They're just such a good shape. They're so fuzzy. They're so round.

JULIAN: Oh, they're so fluffy. Oh, I highly recommend everyone to Google baby beavers.

PAZ: Yes, please. There's some good videos on YouTube, I think.

JULIAN: Yep. They're so small. This is from I Can Has Cheezburger, a site I did not realize was still on the internet.

LIZ: I don't think it can die at this point. I think it's an establishment, right?

JULIAN: Here it is. Their Facebook page is actively posting things as of 47 minutes ago.

PAZ: On Facebook?

JULIAN: There's a listicle about 18 cats demonstrating their cat logic.

LIZ: [groans]

PAZ: Tigerclaw voice.

LIZ: Tigerclaw voice, debate me.

PAZ: I'll destroy them with facts and logic.

JULIAN: Wow.

LIZ: Also sorry, on my search for can beavers kill cats, like the fourth result is just the beaver Warriors wiki page.

PAZ: What do you call a baby beaver? Kits.

LIZ: Baby.

JULIAN: Aw.

PAZ: They're kits, too.

LIZ: [laughs] Can I-- oh my god. Can I give you some suggested searches from this?

JULIAN: Yeah.

LIZ: Okay. One. "Are beavers venomous?"

PAZ: No, that's a platypus.

JULIAN: I understand the confusion, though.

PAZ: Yeah, they're a little similar.

LIZ: Two. "How to survive a beaver attack."

PAZ: Run.

JULIAN: Don't get bitten in the femoral artery and you'll be good.

LIZ: Three. "Beaver bite force PSI."

JULIAN: Now what is the beaver bite force psi? I'm very curious.

LIZ: Let me check. 180 pounds.

PAZ: Holy shit.

JULIAN: That's a lot.

PAZ: Well, I mean they have to bite hard to take down trees, I guess.

LIZ: Goddamn.

JULIAN: Yeah, damn.

LIZ: Compared to a human's 88 pounds. Good Lord.

PAZ: We don't have shit.

JULIAN: That's pretty strong on humans, too.

PAZ: Yeah, I'm not biting that hard.

JULIAN: No wonder my teeth hurt all the time.

PAZ: I don't have anything else to say about these chapters.

JULIAN: Yeah, I think we've wrapped up.

PAZ: I forgot to decide on something to talk about.

JULIAN: I mean, we did talk about beavers for quite some time.

PAZ: We did.

[meow]

JULIAN: I wonder if-- okay, I'm gonna do a quick Google to see if... beaver roleplay.

LIZ: Oh my god.

PAZ: Oh my god. Beaver kids book.

JULIAN: Oh no, this is Narnia roleplay. That's not what I want. Beaver roleplay Proboards.

PAZ: Oh shit.

JULIAN: Beaver [sighs]. Yep, here we go. I found-- this is on the Disney Roleplay World.

PAZ: Disney?

LIZ: Oh?

JULIAN: Yeah.

LIZ: Beavers in Disney?

JULIAN: This is an Angry Beavers RP.

LIZ: What?

PAZ: Oh my god, that show. You don't know that show, Liz?

LIZ: No?

PAZ: I think it was a Nickelodeon cartoon. It was like the era of like, Catdog and such.

LIZ: Oh.

JULIAN: Yeah, it's a band of outcast beavers trying to take over the world, or take over the woods, sorry, not the world.

PAZ: Why not the world?

JULIAN: Holy shit, this is dark. Um, they are the young Zachs family. The head beaver, Jason, catches Treeflower. Kate, who was with her, isn't seen, but finds her mother dead after Jason kills her to send a message.

PAZ: What?

JULIAN: Is there a way to bring her back or stop Jason? Fuck!

PAZ: I hope so.

JULIAN: Oh, it's so much to read this very intensive, um, there are lions here?!

LIZ: What?

PAZ: I don't remember that.

JULIAN: This roleplay includes lions and bears. It's a lot to see this really intensive moment where this beaver is facing down lions. And she's screaming for her uncle, Daggett.

PAZ: Oh yeah, I remember. Yep, that was the name.

JULIAN: "'Mama, Daddy, Uncle Daggy-Waggy,' she screams."

LIZ: Oh my god.

JULIAN: Also a lot to see, um... is this Tyler Posey? Someone's shooting a gun at me in the gif.

PAZ: What?

JULIAN: In this signature about beavers.

PAZ: What year was this happening?

JULIAN: This was posted in 2014.

PAZ: That is much more recent than I would have thought.

JULIAN: Yeah, it didn't get off the ground too far. Only about 10 posts here.

PAZ: I wonder why.

JULIAN: Oh, no, I'm sorry, there's four pages of this. I'm just kidding.

LIZ: Oh my god.

JULIAN: Yeah, the final post is, "'Kate, it's time for lunch,' Norb called to his daughter." So I presume they--

PAZ: They survived.

JULIAN: They dealt with the lions.

LIZ: They went to lunch.

PAZ: Man, Warrior Cats needs to step up.

LIZ: This is riveting.

JULIAN: These beavers have sofas? I never watched the cartoon.

PAZ: Oh yeah, they live in like a-- I don't remember exactly.

JULIAN: Little house?

PAZ: Yeah.

JULIAN: Yeah, no, Kate's mom fuckin died. Rip Treeflower.

PAZ: Wow.

JULIAN: I am kind of surprised but there hasn't been like a big sprawling story about a society of beavers.

PAZ: Yeah, they also are like communal animals. Are beavers not interesting enough? I think they're cool.

JULIAN: Wait, hold up. What was the Redwall book? Oh no, those were otters.

LIZ: An otter is just a beaver that hasn't been flattened at the back.

JULIAN: Because I was thinking of Taggerung, which in hindsight was I think a little racist. But that was about otters and not beavers.

LIZ: You know that--

JULIAN: Are beavers--

LIZ: Oh, go ahead.

JULIAN: Are they evil in Redwall?

PAZ: Are they in Redwall?

LIZ: Beavers?

JULIAN: Oh, there are no beavers.

LIZ: Well, when was Redwall written?

JULIAN: Redwall wiki. "According to Brian Jacques, beavers do not appear in subsequent Redwall novels to reflect the fact that there are no longer any native beavers in Great Britain."

LIZ: Well. Wait.

JULIAN: "The solitary beaver is the only beaver in the Redwall series and was very rarely mentioned."

PAZ: Holy shit. Who's the solitary beaver?

JULIAN: He stopped Cluny from climbing up the wall in the first battle of the Late Rose Summer Wars.

PAZ: I want to know more about this guy.

JULIAN: And he uses a crossbow. Damn.

PAZ: Wow, apparently beavers have like, mate for life.

JULIAN: Aw.

LIZ: Aw.

PAZ: Wikipedia doesn't have a fictional beavers page.

JULIAN: Why? They have a fictional badgers page.

PAZ: Maybe there just aren't many fictional beavers.

JULIAN: Oh my God. I know this is not a Redwall padcast.

LIZ: Padcast?

JULIAN: Padcast. But I have found a tidbit of Redwall lore that is blowing the series wide open. Bees can communicate in Redwall.

LIZ: What?

PAZ: What?

JULIAN: "Indicated by a statement at the end of the books where the guerrilla shrews learn to speak the bee language so they can trade and argue. This is not noted in other books."

PAZ: Holy shit.

JULIAN: That means that if bees can communicate, half of the animals eat insects. Are they eating sentient insects?

PAZ: Ahh.

LIZ: Horrible. I hate that. What if you're like, God, I don't know, like a bird or mouse or whatever, and you just like, eat a cricket, and it's just like, [tinily] nooo.

JULIAN: [very small] I have a family.

LIZ: Gruesome.

PAZ: This is a problem when you make all the animals in sentient societies.

JULIAN: Well, I feel like Redwall tried to handle it by making all the carnivores evil.

PAZ: I've never read Redwall.

JULIAN: Yeah, they make most of the carnivores, like-- which is its own problem because then it's like these species are inherently evil.

PAZ: They just did Zootopia. I mean, I guess Zootopia did Redwall, is what I should say.

LIZ: With cops? Does Redwall have cops?

JULIAN: Um...

PAZ: They have like soldiers.

JULIAN: It's sort of like a medieval situation. So they have like soldiers, and like, there might be like a sheriff or something. There's not like the police.

PAZ: There's only 21 pages in the fictional beavers category.

LIZ: That's so sad.

JULIAN: That's so sad. That feels--

PAZ: This is an undertapped market.

LIZ: They have architecture. They feel rife for like anthropomorph-- word I can't say. You know, when they become little guys with little houses?

JULIAN: Hey, children's book editors, hot new idea, fictional story about beavers, species of beavers. They're-- not species, family of beavers. Society of beavers. That's the word I was looking for.

PAZ: That should be the next Erin Hunter endeavor.

JULIAN: Right? I guess maybe the concern is, while they do have a society and they do have little hands and they do build things, they don't attack each other and kill each other?

PAZ: That's true. No, but they're very territorial. Maybe they do.

LIZ: They can attack and kill us. That's gotta be something.

JULIAN: That's true.

PAZ: They probably have fights.

LIZ: Maybe it's like the next, you know, great civilization is one of beavers and they've got to fight the humans or something.

JULIAN: There you go.

LIZ: Terrible remnants of the last one.

PAZ: Beavers inherit the earth.

JULIAN: There was a beaver dam in the creek at home, and they were-- they did a lot. They really dammed up that creek.

PAZ: Yeah, they work hard. Okay, if Erin Hunter was to make a beaver series, what would it be called? So the bears one is called Seekers. I think the canceled dog one was like...

JULIAN: No, that's the Africa one.

LIZ: Designers. Planners.

JULIAN: Architects. Builders.

LIZ: Constructors. Oh, Creators.

JULIAN: Oooh.

PAZ: Ooh.

LIZ: There's also Devisors, which sounds a little, you know.

PAZ: Oh, that sounds like they'll be like little wizards.

JULIAN: Yeah, I like Devisors.

PAZ: Devisors is real good.

JULIAN: Survivors is the dog series.

PAZ: Oh, Devisors is a little close to Survivors. But I think it's still very good.

LIZ: Artisan.

PAZ: I want little wizard beavers.

JULIAN: Right? They're so ripe to be little magic guys. Little magicians. They got their little hands.

LIZ: I feel like every other creature that's vaguely in the shape of a beaver, which is like kind of a brown egg, has gotten that treatment already. Like, you know, badgers, which they're not really brown, but they're eh. Porcupine. I feel like I've definitely seen more porcupine than beaver.

PAZ: Yeah. Why are beavers so underutilized?

LIZ: Otters. Capybaras.

JULIAN: I don't think we've done capybaras.

PAZ: Friends at the Table has done capybaras now.

LIZ: I think someone's done capybaras.

JULIAN: I mean, maybe there's a children's book.

LIZ: Moles. Voles.

JULIAN: That's just Redwall.

PAZ: Yeah, those little guys are Redwall.

LIZ: A raccoon isn't brown but it does have little hands and is about the same shape, and they've definitely done those.

PAZ: There's like Sly Cooper, yeah.

JULIAN: Yeah. Ranger Rick.

PAZ: Justice for beavers.

LIZ: Let the beaver have its moment. It's basically like a water clan, right?

PAZ: Yeah.

LIZ: Okay, there should just be like a direct lifting of all the Warriors clans into just like beaver clan, badger clan. That's like--

PAZ: This is just Redwall. We're just reinventing Redwall with beavers.

LIZ: No, there's more than one beaver, because they've returned to England.

PAZ: You're writing Redwall fanfiction.

LIZ: I can make this an Arthurian beaver.

PAZ: Yeah, the beaver is Merlin.

JULIAN: Guinebeaver.

LIZ: Who's gonna play young hot BBC beaver Merlin?

JULIAN: Do you mean Beaverlin?

LIZ: Yes.

PAZ: You know, that might do it for us. I think we're-- [laughs].

LIZ: When we hit that 420 goal.

PAZ: Thanks everyone for listening to our podcast. You can find the show at Stairway to Star-- no, it's just, you can find the show @staircast on twitter.com. You can now support the show on Patreon at patreon.com/staircast. You can email questions or anecdotes or yell at us about talking about beavers too much, [email protected]. Um, next week we'll be reading chapters 11 through 14 of Forest of Secrets. I guess that's about it. So until next time, may StarClan light your path. Bye.

LIZ: Bye.

JULIAN: Bye.

[outro music]

LIZ: My God.

JULIAN: Oh.

LIZ: Hey, did you know beavertails are a kind of donut?

JULIAN: Oh, like a food?

LIZ: Yeah.

JULIAN: I was like, I thought you were talking about like a mathematical donut for some reason.

PAZ: Wow.

LIZ: That's me. I love to talk about math.

JULIAN: Like a torus. Anyway.

#ep 19 #forest of secrets ep #transcript #beaver tales

1 note · View note

suphoshi · 4 years

Photo

BURN | Bobby x Female Reader

Genre: Gangster AU, Angst/Fluff

Warnings: Deals with mature themes, explicit language, physical violence (nothing domestic), explicit language, possible PTSD triggers, + other dark themes (read with caution please!)

Word count: 17,094 (lol kill me)

Sometimes he reminded you of fire.

Not something raging or destroying like a house burning or a tree set aflame, but something you sit in front of when your toes are too cold, desperate to feel the warmth in your bones when you feel like a hollow shell. Its passion bleeds through you like a welcome home and you want to stare at its brilliance until it eventually dies out. When it does, it breaks your heart so much to see it go that you light it again, an eternal flame that you couldn’t live without. The orange hues that make your heart the happiest, make you think that the heavens have to be real because how could something be so beautiful. You reach out because you want to touch it, you need to know how it feels, if the flames are as soft as they look, but when you do the burn extends up your palm like a warning. ‘Stay far away, I’m pretty on the outside, but inside I’m waiting to destroy something as precious as you’.

A flame you could never touch. A treasure you could never hold.

Bobby held the deepest and darkest parts of you, and sometimes you wished you could hold his. He kissed your tears away when terrible things popped up behind your eyes at night, demons of a past you always tried to wish away but somehow never left, held you pressed against his chest until you felt a little less broken. He let you shine in such dazzling ways, dressed you in diamonds and silk, showed you off at parties, kept you pressed to his side like the most magnificent trophy he’d ever held. He looked at you like you were starlight (it broke your heart a little to think he never saw it before you).

It was winter when you met him. Snow clung to the leafless trees, but you loved the crisp air that came with the cold. Loved how it stole your breath away and breathed life into you at the same time. You would go on walks at night, the clearest sky ever above, stars dancing to the rotation of the earth, moon full and glimmering as if to say ‘I own this world. The sky belongs to me.’ You were feeding a stray kitten outside of your apartment building when it looked up at you with twinkling eyes. It meow ’ed and started to walk away, looking back as if you were supposed to follow, as if it was taking you home. It reminded you that you truly did feel lost, no real family or home to call your own. This cat was probably more loved than you had ever been in your entire life. So, you followed. It never strayed too far, never stopped looking back to make sure you were still there, always keeping the closest eye on you. It was funny, how this was the most wanted you had ever felt, how you never had someone who looked back for you, someone who made sure you weren’t lost.

You made it to a park beside the woods when it stopped, turning back and winding itself around your legs. You smiled and reached down, half expecting it to run away, but instead it let you lift it into your arms and scratch the top of its head while it purred. It was a comforting feeling, to know that this little being trusted you, that it felt comfortable enough to let you carry it in your arms like an old friend. You were whispering things to her (finding out shortly after, she was in fact a she) about the snow, the stars, the forest, how you would call her Yuki (you saw it on a web search just the day before when trying to name another stray cat that ended up leaving), when you heard a commotion coming from somewhere in the trees, loud thumps and branches cracking. You looked over at the heavily dense woods and held Yuki tight to your chest, unsure if it was to protect her or to protect you.

“Hello?” You called out, hoping it was just your imagination that it sounded like a fight going on. You heard muffled groans, harsh voices as you stepped closer to the tree line when a group of men ran out, shoving past you. You nearly screamed but it instead came out like a choked gasp, scared to say anything that might make them stop and hurt you. When they were gone, having passed by you without a second glance, Yuki pushed at your chest and jumped down from your arms, running into the woods. It was strange, how the attachment you had for her already made you follow.

“Yuki!” You yelled out, following close behind as she slowed near a figure on the ground. It wasn’t until you got closer and it rolled over on its own that you realized it was a person. It took hold of you, the fear the sight of his face caused, bruised and bloody, hair sweaty and sticking to his forehead. His left eye was already too swollen to open, but it didn’t really matter because he looked unconscious. The sight triggered memories inside your brain, still frames of your past flooding back as if it was yesterday, a life where you had a family, faces flashing by at an alarming rate, your mothers when your dad came home drunk and angry, your brother after school when he tried to fight anyone who looked at you wrong, your father’s after the crash. Eyes dead and empty, the same eyes you saw on your mom and brother that same night, looking into your soul like they could see right through you. Like they were accusing you of a wrong you never committed, like it was unfair they all died, and you lived.

Yuki meow ‘ed, jumping on the man’s chest and the sound snapped you out of the trance you were in, causing you to move closer until you stood just above him. He wore a black suit with a white button-down shirt that was covered in blood, the first few buttons undone so you could see the sliver chain that dipped below and down his chest. His hair was a mess, dark brown and curly, sticking to his forehead, but you could see that he was probably more put together before whatever happened with those men.

“Hey, are you okay?” Stupid. As if you couldn’t see that he was broken and bleeding in front of you. You squatted down, tucking your hair behind your ears so you could get closer, hand reaching out to touch his shoulder. He took a deep shuddering breath when you made contact and you immediately pulled away, grabbing your phone. You watched as Yuki curled up on top of him, like he was her resting place for the night. She rested her head just under his neck, and for some reason the sight made your heart ache. He looked so broken, and Yuki just wanted to make sure he wasn’t alone. Tears sprung to your eyes and you weren’t sure why, heart racing because you didn’t want to leave him alone ever. You didn’t even know him.

Your hands shook as you tried to dial the police, messing up the first few tries before you finally got it right.

“Hello? Yes, I’m with a man who’s been attacked, he needs an amb-“ You were cut off by the man grabbing your wrist and pulling you down, your hand dropping from your ear to keep you from falling on top of him. His unswollen eye was open, glaring at you when he reached across and grabbed your cell phone, ending the call.

“No police.” He mumbled out, groaning at the movement he made.

“You’re really hurt, you should go to the hospital.” You said, desperate. Yuki was readjusting herself after he inadvertently shoved her off, no concern at all for his current state.

“No. Police.” He repeated, more emphasis on his words that time, breathing haggard. His gaze was fierce, effectively shutting you up. You felt your heart pounding in your chest, too scared to stare at him for too long because his face reminded you of too many dark things. His hand remained wrapped around your wrist and you were acutely aware of the tug it had on your heart.

He hissed as he tried to pull himself up and it was instinct alone that made you grab his arm to help him. He was out of breath, spending up all of his energy in that minimal movement, yet somehow found the strength to reach into his pocket and pull out his phone, dialing a number and pressing it to his ear.

“It’s me. I have to lay low for a while. Seunghyun’s people knew I would be alone. They knew everything.” He mumbled out. You kept your hand on his arm, too scared he would fall back if you let him go (too scared you wouldn’t feel the warmth of his body again). Yuki laid in his lap and you stared at her pointedly, as if she could understand the danger she might be in if he realized she was there, never worrying about the danger you might be in for doing the same thing.

“Get everything ready. When I come home, I want them to know I’m coming for them.” His face was so pale, and the moonlight hit his eyes in such a way that he looked scary. Still, you didn’t actually feel scared of him. He ended the call and shoved his phone back into his coat pocket, wiping his hand down the left side of his face, smearing blood along with it.

“Help me stand up.” He demanded suddenly, not waiting for your answer as he pushed himself off the ground. Yuki jumped off of his lap and you had to wrap your arms around his chest, a squeal falling from your lips as you tried to support his weight. His arm wrapped around your shoulders and it took all of the strength in your legs to keep the two of you upright, praying to every God there was that you wouldn’t break your ankle, you couldn’t afford it.

“You can’t walk on your own!” You shouted, annoyance and worry now overrunning your thoughts, scared of the dependence he now had on you as you could feel his knees buckling every few seconds. “How can you expect to go anywhere like this?!”

You groaned under him as you pulled an arm away, grabbing his hand that slung over your shoulder and holding onto it while your other arm remained secured around his waist.

“How far away do you live?” He breathed out and you stared up at him, blood now smeared on your sweatshirt. He looked down at you, and your breath caught in your throat. You heard the things he said on the phone. Knew logically that he was a bad person, a person who was caught up in ugly things that you needed to stay out of, but in your heart, you just wanted to help him. You felt like you needed to help him. His eyes were going in and out of focus and you knew you didn’t have much time before you would have to drag him.

“Not far, just a few minutes.” You said softly.

“Your apartment then. Let’s go there.” He replied. You were already turning to walk him before he replied. Your limbs were aching when you made it to the front of your apartment building, trying your best to move quickly so you wouldn’t draw attention. You had pulled a mask out of your pocket before you made it out of the woods, putting it on him to try and shield some of his face. He stayed quiet the entire time, saving his energy to walk, knowing that you couldn’t do it alone. When you made it into the building, Yuki trailing behind you the entire way, you led them both into the elevator and felt his legs start to give.

“Don’t, please, we’re almost there.” You pleaded, pressing the button to your floor. He found some energy in your words, straightening up a little during the ride up and walking out with you when the doors finally opened. You pressed in the code to your apartment and led him in, too tired to be embarrassed about the state of the place. It was tiny, a kitchen, a bathroom, and your bedroom/living room – still almost more than you could afford. You helped him to your bed and tried your best to sit him down carefully knowing it would hurt worse to let him fall. His arm dropped from your shoulders and you wrapped your hands around his neck, lowering him back before lifting his legs up onto the bed. After that, you fell to your knees, arms resting on the bed beside him. You took your time catching your breath before looking up at him. He was out cold, breaths even and deep, hoping that was a sign he didn’t have any broken ribs.

Yuki climbed up your bed and onto his chest where she had been, and you stared at her incredulously before walking to the kitchen, filling up a bowl with water. You found your first aid kit under the sink, an old thing you had gotten years ago when you moved in, everything in it probably expired or unnecessary for what he needed, but you hoped you might find something useful. After grabbing a washcloth and walking back towards the man on your bed, you sat down beside his head and pulled the mask off of him, dampening the rag before cleaning at the small cuts on his face. It seemed like most of the blood came from a gash above his swollen eye, finding no other major cuts around it. The entire left side of his face was a dark red, extending from his eye down to his jaw. His lip was also split, and you dabbed at it gently. Once his face was clean, you took a moment to really look at him, grateful he was unconscious. Besides the now swollen shut eye, strangely the prettiest purple and blue you had ever seen, he was handsome. Maybe the most handsome man you had ever been so close to. His jaw framed his face perfectly, squared and defined, plump lips prominent though you weren’t sure if it was because they were swollen or not. You remembered his brown eyes (well, eye) from before and wished he was able to open them both now, wish you could see his face the way it was meant to be, an anger resting over your shoulders that you hadn’t felt before, wondering how someone could harm a face so pretty.

You quickly shook yourself out of your thoughts and decided that you needed to take his shirt off, needed to find out if he was hurt anywhere else. You plucked Yuki off of his chest and moved her to lay on the other side of his head, where she quickly found a comfortable resting place on his shoulder. Unbuttoning and removing his shirt was difficult, being that he was wearing a suit jacket, but you didn’t have the heart to cut it. It looked so expensive. So, you took off his cuff links – setting them on the nightstand, undid the buttons on his sleeves and rolled him back and forth until you could get the them off. There was a deep gash on his side that looked like it was from a knife, extending from below his ribs and down to his hip accompanied by a large bruise higher up on his rib cage. You cleaned around the wound as much as you could before grabbing a stack of gauze from your first aid kit and putting pressure. The bleeding had mostly stopped, but you still taped the gauze in place, scared that he would bleed onto the sheets while he slept. You tried your best to ignore the rest of his body, but it was… difficult to say the least. He was a well-defined man, abs splaying out across his stomach like he was born with them, arms toned and strong. He looked like the kind of guy another man might envy, someone who didn’t have to try very hard to be attractive. It made you angrier knowing that he was strong enough looking to defend himself but was still hurt like this.

You pressed antibiotic cream to the small cuts on his face and his eye and moved to your dresser to find an old t-shirt you could put him in. It was surprisingly easier than expected to get on him, though it still left you out of breath, deciding he could change his own pants when he woke up. After you finished, you walked to the kitchen and put all of your supplies away, not really sure how to act now that there was a stranger in your house. You wanted to shower, his dried blood caking your nails and making you uncomfortable, but it felt strange. He could wake up any time and walk in, hurt you, murder you, steal all of your belongings. You sat on the floor beside the bed staring at his profile and thought about it for a long time before deciding you would take a short one, enough to wash your hair and clean the blood off of your hands.

After the quickest ten-minute shower of your life, you changed into your pajamas and walked out, only to find him in the same position you left him, Yuki back on his chest where she had been before you changed his shirt. The disappointment that rested on your shoulders said too much. You rolled out a blanket on the floor and laid down, mind running too quickly for you to keep up with. When the exhaustion finally let your mind rest, your eyes shut like a prison door, no temptations to open them or fear to keep you up worrying about the stranger that laid in your bed.

When morning came, he was still there, in that same position. Yuki was clawing at the door to go out, so you pulled on your jacket and shoes and took her. She was only gone for fifteen minutes and you were just about to abandon hope that she was coming back when she climbed onto the bench you were seated on and crawled into your lap. You smiled and zipped her into your jacket, scared your neighbors might complain if they saw her in the daylight, before walking back to the apartment.

It didn’t shock you this time, noting that he still hadn’t moved. You ordered food for two, set out an extra plate, expecting him to wake up any time. Fourteen hours had passed and if you hadn’t seen his chest rising, you would have thought he was dead. He slept through your entire meal. Slept through the movie you played on your laptop, slept through you crying at the ending. Slept through you talking to yourself, talking to Yuki, talking to him.

“I guess you can stay. It’s so weird, I don’t know you at all, but it’s nice to not be alone. Nice to have someone. Even a stranger. Plus, Yuki seems to like you more than me even though I’m the one who feeds her, so if you leave, I imagine she’ll leave to.” You rambled on and on about things that didn’t matter, but still found yourself eager to tell him.

“I have to work tomorrow, so I kind of hope you’re awake by then. No offense, but I don’t know if we’re close enough for me to trust you in my apartment alone. I don’t even know your name. I’ll have to take my laptop to work with me probably, it’s the only thing here worth any value.”

You laughed at the random videos you found scrolling through YouTube and eventually find yourself tired enough to lay back on your makeshift bed and sleep. Honestly, you had never felt so safe. He was a stranger who you had shared no more than fifteen words with, but at least you weren’t alone. And you weirdly trusted Yuki’s judgement, trusted that she could sense he was a good person on the inside.

You dreamt for the first time in a long time, dreamt of someone holding your hand, showing you galaxies that you never knew existed, swimming through oceans filled with stars that were close enough for you to touch. When your hand reached out to grab the brightest one, another hand beat you to it, snatching it away and you whined, looking over at the star thief. It amazed you how you could see his smile so vividly even though you had never seen it in real life. This stranger who took over your apartment now flooding your dreams and you loved how complete it made you feel in that ocean of stars.

“Give it back!” You shouted and he laughed, teasing and taunting you by holding it so close before snatching it away. He swam off, pulling your star with him, laughing like you were friends or something closer. You chased after him, but he was too fast, body growing smaller and smaller as he moved further away. Your smile faded with him, no longer finding this dream fun.

“Wait! Wait, don’t leave me!” You shouted, and the uncomfortable chill that took over your bones broke your heart, loneliness seeping into your lungs as you breathed in an ocean full of stars that you could no longer swim in.

“Come back!” You cried, trying to swim for the surface before you drowned, but it was too late, you could feel the water pulling you down as you desperately kicked, fighting your way back to the happiness you held just minutes before with your stranger who left you alone in the dark.

“Come back!” You shouted, eyes opening in the darkness of your room, breathing heavily, no oceans or stars in sight. You sat up, heart racing as you looked up at the bed, finding it empty. The disappointment you felt was almost consuming, your heart not sure how to handle the loss of someone you didn’t know, how to handle the break in your soul when you didn’t even know his name.

“Are you okay?” His voice came from the other side of your makeshift bed and you screamed, pushing your back against your bed as If you could hide from him now.

The moonlight shined in through the window illuminating him perfectly, sitting beside where your head had been.

“What are you doing?!” You shouted and he simply shrugged in response.

“I woke up to you laughing, but then you started crying.” The look of concern on his face made you nauseous. Like it implied anything besides curiosity.

You sighed, running your hands over your face. “You scared me.”

He smiled and you get to see it outside of your dreams. It’s better than you imagined, better because it’s here, and it’s real. You hated the way your heart raced for him. Hated that you already knew it was going to end up with you broken before anything even started.

“I’m sorry.” He said softly, pulling his knees up to rest his elbows on them. You shook your head and sat up on your knees, suddenly curious about his condition.

“What about you? Are you okay?” You asked, noting that his eye was a little less swollen after nearly a full day.

He pushed his lip out in thought, nodding his head. “I’m sore, but better.”

You nodded in reply, relief flowing through. “Good. I was worried.”

“Why?” He asked and it caught you off guard.

“What?” You questioned and he looked at you. You could see his defenses rising before you even tried to invade and it made your chest ache, wondering what made him so closed off to someone who wanted to help.

“Why would you be worried about me? You don’t know me.” His words sounded like they were meant to be harsh, but you weren’t hurt by them. Instead you were just as confused as he was, wishing your chest didn’t ache every time you saw the gash on his forehead, wishing you didn’t long to see his eyes every second since you found him.

“I don’t know, honestly. I was just… worried.” You whispered, running your hands through your hair.

Your reply satisfied him enough to stop asking questions and he stood up, walking to the kitchen. He rummaged through your fridge before finding the plate you had made earlier that day, putting it in the microwave to heat up. You checked the time, 3:35am, and took a deep breath to steady your nerves. He sat in the kitchen to eat, pulled out his phone and started texting and calling people like he lived there. His voice was soft sometimes and harsh others, and you wondered who you had to be to get his soft voice. You liked it the most. Weirdly, you didn’t mind his harsh voice either, your mind easing, soul settling in a way it never had.

Yuki eventually crawled into your lap, purring in your arms, so you leaned your head against the bed and ran your hand down her back, let your mind drift off to the sound of his voice. You opened your eyes sometime later; the feeling of a blanket being pulled over your shoulders. Your hooded eyes looked up and it was him, face too close to yours, close enough that you should see the shimmer in his eyes. He stared down at you for a while, like he was trying to solve the world’s most difficult puzzle, before climbing onto the bed behind you. You didn’t move even though his hand brushed beside your ear, nerve endings on fire, yet too comfortable to stay awake. You didn’t feel scared, you didn’t feel worried. You just feel so warm. And that was enough for you.

“What’s your name?” You asked with your eyes closed, almost praying he didn’t answer. If you didn’t know his name, your heart would be safer when he left, no name to cry out in the dark when he was gone.

“Bobby.” He replied. You let it fall from your lips, loving the way it felt to say aloud, prayed you would get to say it for a long time. It was all you dreamt about that night.

The next morning started out like this – You rushing to get ready for work, pulling on clothes without looking at them, combing your hair wildly, putting on lipstick and shoving it in your pocket. You remembered as you were putting on your shoes that you wanted to grab your laptop and turned back, finding Bobby sitting up in bed, scrolling through his phone. He glanced up at you before turning his attention away with a small smirk on his face.

“I won’t steal your laptop. I know it’s the only thing worth any value here.” You remembered your late night rambles to him the second he said it and wished you had time to find out what all he had heard during his supposed unconscious state, but you had no time, so you instead you ran out the front door without a word.

You hated work before, but the thought that Bobby was sitting in your apartment made it worse. You wanted to see him, talk to him, make sure he was eating. Keep him from leaving. The thoughts plagued you like nothing else, but work was important. You didn’t have any other income to support yourself, and you had no family or friends to rely on. You bartended at a place not far from your apartment, somewhere that was sketchy enough to let you work when you were only nineteen after your family died, no money to stay in college, no home to live in after the bank repossessed it. You met Sabrina, the owner of the bar, at your family’s funeral. She told you that she was a friend of your fathers and her heart seemed really genuine, took you in like her own and gave you a place to stay when you had nothing, it gave you the sense of security you desperately needed.

At first, it was okay. You made good tips because you were pretty and the men loved your innocent eyes, but after a while you realized how dark people could be. How they didn’t care if you said ‘no’ when they asked for your number or when they followed you home from work, grabbing you until you pepper sprayed them or ran. Now you just worked because it was all you were good at; all you really knew how to do. Plus, it felt like you owed Sabrina a large debt, one that felt like it would take a lifetime to repay. She never asked for too much but made it apparent that she would be upset if you ever left. You felt stuck, torn between the life you wanted and the only person you could claim as family.

It felt like the longest shift ever, entertaining drunk men who didn’t care about anything but themselves, praying the night would end quickly. It was around 10pm when you walked to the bathroom, wanting to fix up your hair and touch up your lipstick before going home. It felt childish, the giddiness you had at the thought of seeing Bobby, excitement bubbling in your stomach like it used to when you were in middle school and had a crush on someone. You rolled your eyes at your reflection, embarrassment creeping up your neck, but still, you blotted your lips together and pinched your cheeks for some color before stepping out of the bathroom.

“Hey, y/n, leaving so soon?”

The regulars at the bar were usually easy to handle, knowing your limits and following them well, but sometimes they went too far. Miko often overstepped those boundaries, always too handsy and too bold, reaching over the counter to grab the things he wanted and whispering disgusting things in your ear that made your cheeks hot. He was in his forties, hair balding and stomach rounded from drinking every day and eating everything in sight. It was his slurred voice in the hallway that stopped you outside of the bathroom and you immediately felt cornered, isolated away from everyone else, and somehow you felt like he knew it. His eyes glazed over in a sinister way that made your stomach sink.

“Sorry, I have to get home. I have a new cat; she’s been inside all day.” You laughed nervously, hoping to conceal your fear, but it fell off of you in waves, his eyes darkening as he pushed you back into the ladies’ room, locking the door behind him. You immediately started rummaging through your bag for your pepper spray, but he grabbed your wrists before you could find it, fingers digging marks in as he pulled them up in front of your face.

“I thought about it earlier, and we’ve never spent any quality time together. I know everyone who works here, but I don’t know you very well.” He said, voice low, the smell of alcohol wafting from him. Tears formed in your eyes as he pressed you against the sink. “How about we have a little ‘get to know each other’ session. How’s that sound?”

You fought in his grasp to no avail before lifting up your legs and kicking at him desperately, shoes barely scraping at his shins as your body was too close to do anything significant. His lips pressed to your cheek and you screamed, the only response being the back of his hand connecting with your cheek, sending you to the ground before he pounced on top of you.

“Help!” You pleaded, but no one could hear, music too loud and everyone too far away. He pressed his lips to your neck, hot and wet and everything that made your stomach turn, slamming his hand over your mouth. You bit down on his pinky, pulling your knee up to connect with his groin before he finally yelled and rolled off. Everything was a blur after that, pulling yourself off of the ground and jumping over him, running out of the bar and down the street, tears falling freely down your cheeks as everything melted together around you. You made it to your building and were half-way up the elevator when you finally felt safe. It took you too long to gather your senses, but you tried to calm yourself down, hands still shaking with fear, arms tense and the taste of blood in your mouth. The doors opened and you wiped the tears from your eyes, embarrassed that you tried to look nice for Bobby only to end up in the state you had. You combed your hands through your hair and stood outside of the apartment door for what felt like hours, trying to appear calm and cool.

You didn’t know what to do. People had reported customers at the bar before, but they just ended up with a warning in the end, or worse – the employees would end up fired, the tight knit community unforgiving. You needed the money. Needed the tips you made more than anything and you were scared to disappoint Sabrina, scared to tell her and have nothing come from it. You wanted the night to reset, wished you could go back and leave without going to the bathroom, wished you could hide from the fear that would loom over you forever. Your own stupidity broke your heart the most.

You walked into the apartment and kept your head down, pulling your shoes off, hoping for the first time since he came that Bobby wasn’t there.

“I think you need more groceries, there’s nothing here to eat.” He said from the kitchen, fridge opened as he went through everything. “Eating out every night is unhealthy.”

You walked straight to the bedroom, laughing a little and mumbling out some subpar excuse, trying your best to avoid him as you could feel the ache in your jaw. You threw your bag on the floor and went through your dresser, picking out pajamas and turning back towards the bathroom, hoping to avoid a confrontation at all costs. Things weren’t working in your favor that day, Bobby standing directly behind you as you turned around, eyes glued to yours like he knew all of your secrets when you didn’t say a word. You noted that he was wearing different clothes, wondered if he had left to get them or if he had someone bring them. Either way, he looked better in his own black t-shirt than he did in your white one, setting off a run of palpitations in your chest that you had to ignore. His eye was nearly healed, the bruise still apparent as well as the cut above his eyebrow, but the swelling was almost gone. He looked at you so fiercely, like he could hear your thoughts, causing a lump to form in your throat, eyes suddenly wet again.

His scanned your face, eyes landing on your chin when he took it in his hand, turning you away so he could inspect the bruise that was now forming on your jaw. His touch was gentle, but the anger you felt radiating off of him was anything but.

“What happened?” He asked and it was the genuine concern that flashed across his face that made you speak, telling him everything without hesitation, tears falling down your cheeks without shame. His hands dropped to his side, fists flexing every so often, especially when you told him about Miko hitting you. He never interrupted, never asked any questions. He gave you no comfort in his arms or his eyes, staring at you so intently that you wanted to hide.

When you finished, he walked out. You couldn’t follow after him, too embarrassed and ashamed to do anything but climb in the shower and try to rinse the feeling of Miko’s hands off of your wrists, rubbed the skin where his lips touched your neck until it felt raw. You wished that Bobby had pulled you in his arms and held you for the rest of the night, felt stupid as the thought crossed your mind.

When you exited the shower, you immediately got dressed, wiped the steam from the mirror so you could see your face. It looked worse than it felt. Dark purple and red that matched Bobby’s eye extending from the corner of your lip down to your jaw. You remembered the feel of Miko’s rings connecting like rocks when he slapped you and closed your eyes, the memory replaying over and over as if you could change it somehow. You shook your head and pulled your hair up, walking out of the bathroom and to the kitchen. You sat there for a long time, leftover food from a few nights before heated and sitting in front of you. Nothing tasted good, thoughts running back to Bobby’s face when he saw that you were hurt. His eyes reflecting yours, sadness settling deep inside like stone sinking in the ocean. He was gone for so long that you thought he wasn’t coming back, but just as you were standing up to go to bed, a knock came from the door. You made a mental note to give him the passcode to the apartment before you opened it, but the thought quickly left your mind.

Bobby stood there, hand gripping the back of the shirt of a man kneeled down in front of him. Blood was pouring from the man’s nose, from his mouth, both eyes black and blue, bruises peeking out from under the collar of his shirt like he was choked. It was Miko. Your hands instinctively moved to cover your mouth as you gasped, looking down at him kneeling in front of you.

“Speak.” Bobby said, nudging him with his foot.

“I’m sorry y/n, so sorry. I’ll never do it again, I’ll never come back again!” Miko cried and you looked up at Bobby. His eyes were void of any emotion and that might be the only time you were ever scared of him.

“Please let me go, I have kids at home, I promise I’ll never see you again, I’ll never do it again!” He was pleading, hands clasped together as he begged for your mercy, as if you hand any control over his life, as if you made the decisions. The thought made you sick for all of the wrong reasons.

You liked it. Liked that you had control over this person who tried to hurt you, tried to take advantage of you less than two hours before. This person who would have done worse had you not gotten free from him; the lingering feeling of his hands wrapped around your wrists becoming more apparent as you watched him beg. You wanted to see him hurt like you did, wanted to hear him cry and see him broken and bleeding. It made you nauseous, all of these new feelings you never knew you were capable of having.

“Please y/n…” You tried to feel the sincerity in his words, prayed he really did mean it, then grabbed Bobby’s hand and pulled it from his shirt, worried you were making a decision you would regret.

“Just go.” You said, watching as he hauled himself off of the ground, turning to run. Bobby grabbed his arm and turned him back, balling the front of his shirt in his fist while he pulled him close.

“If it happens again - no.” He shook his head with a humorless laugh before starting over. “If I see you again, if I hear your name across town through friends of a friend, if you touch another woman the way you did tonight,” Venom dripped from his words. “If you step within a hundred yards of her…” The air felt too cold as Bobby leaned into the other man’s ear, voice lowering to a whisper. “I’ll kill you.”

Miko’s face was white, tears pouring from his swollen eyes, fear apparent in the way he shook as Bobby shoved him away.

“I know lots of people around here.” Bobby yelled after him, watching as he ran towards the elevator. “Probably best you stay home from now on.”

You pulled on his arm, tugging him back into the apartment before people heard him shouting and came out to investigate. The door slammed shut and you turned to face him as he walked back to the kitchen, anger filling you up like a balloon ready to burst.

“What is wrong with you?! That is not how you handle things; you don’t just attack people!” You shouted and he paused as he pulled the fridge open, eyes meeting yours.

“He attacked you.” He said simply, eyes filled with hatred for the brief few seconds he looked at you. Your throat went dry. He looked away, pulling out a left-over container of rice before sitting down at the seat you had been in a half an hour before. A few minutes later, he was shoveling it into his mouth while scrolling through his phone, as if nothing had happened. It was true. Miko did something bad and he should be punished for it. Bobby fixed the problem, did more than you were willing to. So why were you upset?

You walked to your spot on the floor and sat down, staring at the wall across from you, heart racing for a thousand reasons. Bobby didn’t finish for a long time, eating everything and then cleaning the dishes, but he eventually walked over, squatting down to eye level with you. He saw the tears in your eyes, reaching his hand out to wipe one away as it rolled down your cheek, the lingering feeling of his fingers lasting longer than Miko’s did.

“You sleep in the bed, I’ll sleep here.” He said without asking, pulling the blanket away and waiting for you to move. You stood up and climbed onto the mattress, pulling the comforter up over your shoulders. You faced away from him, forced your eyes shut while you tried to keep every thought of him out, tried not to see the concern in his eyes replay like your favorite movie on the back of your eyelids. You prayed your heart would stop racing every time you thought of him and hoped that maybe it wasn’t all true. That maybe he wasn’t a bad person. The memory of Miko’s face brought you back to the reality you wished you could deny.

You woke up sometime in the middle of the night, nightmares forcing you awake. Your body was facing back towards the floor, the opposite of how you fell asleep, arm hanging off the edge of the bed. You didn’t notice it right away, but your hand was clasped inside of Bobby’s, his eyes remaining closed while gentle snores flowed from him. Your breath caught in your throat, the feel of his calloused fingers threaded through yours taking over all of your senses, making your heart speed up like you could die if you touched him for too long. You tried to pull away, but he gripped you tighter, not letting go.

“The only time you stopped crying was when I grabbed your hand. Go back to sleep.” He mumbled; eyes still closed. The sound of his voice gave you chills, and your cheeks felt too hot to bear, but your eyes closed anyways. You bit your lip to keep from panicking, pretended everything was okay, counted to one hundred over and over again until you could finally breathe normal.

In the morning, you had to pry your fingers free from his so you could go to the bathroom and get ready for work. When you came out, he was still asleep, sun shining on his face. His hair was longer, hanging in his eyes, the swelling of his left eye completely gone, and the bruising changed to a yellow/brown color. His lips were parted slightly, soft huffs of air coming out with each exhale, making you smile. You stared at him for as long as you could before gathering your things and walking out the door.

The days go on just like that. Bobby stayed in your apartment mostly, talked on the phone a lot during the day, watched you get ready for work. After the incident with Miko, he put his number in your phone and made you call every night when you were finished, so he could walk you out. Two and a half weeks passed by without you ever questioning his presence and you were too scared to ask him when he would be leaving (never really wanting him to). Instead you just enjoyed his presence. Appreciated that he was there.

“I think Yuki really does like me more than you.” He said one day, out of the blue while you washed the dishes.

“Hey!” You whined, turning back to face him. He was laying on your bed, Yuki curled up in her favorite place on top of him, him petting her softly while he smiled at her. Your heart constricted and you had to tear yourself away from the sight, scared you might fall for him over something that small. It would be stupid to fall anyways, this man you barely knew enrapturing your heart like it only ever belonged to him.

You found yourself scrubbing the same dish for five minutes, the thoughts rolling around in your head like a storm cloud when you felt him behind you. His arm snaked around yours, grabbing the dish you were cleaning and pulling it out.

“I think it’s clean.” He said softly, setting the dish on your drying rack, laughing to himself while peeking around to see you. You couldn’t help but stare up at him, remembering the day you found him in the woods, leading him to your apartment, cleaning the blood off of his face. He was absolutely the most handsome man you had ever seen. His eyes were brilliant, and they shined when he smiled, when he laughed, when he was yelling at someone on the phone. Now they were shining at you and you couldn’t help but lean up and press your lips to his. It was almost involuntary, like your body would have just dissipated to nothing if you didn’t do it. You pulled your other hand out of the water and rested it on his neck, fell for him like you had never fallen for anything before.

When he rested his hand on your shoulder, you expected him to push you away. He turned your body to fully face him, pressing your back against the counter, hands on your cheeks while his lips pressed against yours more urgently. You gripped the counter behind you, not sure why you could feel tears in your eyes when you were anything but sad. His hands left your cheeks to grab your arms, wrapping them around his waist before he pulled them back up to your neck. He touched you like you would break, but his lips; oh, his lips… They melted into yours like wax, tongues brushing against each other, kissing you like he could never get enough. You gripped his shirt like he would disappear if you didn’t hold him there, felt like it would all be a big dream that faded away the second you opened your eyes.

He walked you to the bed, sat down and pulled you into his lap, brushed the hair out of your face with the rough pads of his fingers that you loved so much, and you tried to remember that life could go on without him. Tried to remember that someday he would go, and you’d be alone again, and it would be okay (wouldn’t it?). Found it hard to convince yourself of that the more you fell for the stability he gave you, the stability you didn’t realize you had craved your entire life. You woke up every day to his soft snoring, got out of the shower and knew he would still be there after you got dressed, brought home dinner every night, always making sure there was enough for two. It was a sense of security that settled so deep in your bones that you didn’t realize how far gone you were. The way his eyes watched you put on your makeup, the way he held your hand while you slept because it was the only way you could dream beautiful things. The only way you could dream at all.

“Please don’t leave.” You mumbled absentmindedly as he moved to kiss you again, halting at your words. Your heart always spoke before your mind could think to stop you. His eyes went hard, looking up at you like you broke a rule, like you opened a door you shouldn’t have, but he didn’t move. Didn’t push you away.

“I don’t care what happens,” you continued, breathing uneven and urgent, tears filling your eyes again. “I don’t care if you’re a bad person, I just need you.”

He stared at you for a few seconds before letting out a shaky breath, head turning away. A chuckle passed his lips soon after and he shook his head a little, pulling his hands up to wrap around your elbows.

Your hands found their way to his cheeks, forcing him to look at you. Forcing him to see the tears that ran down your cheeks, tears he had a part in.

“I’m not asking you to love me. Just, please…” You let out a shaky breath of your own, sadness ripping through you like a tornado, forehead crinkling up as your tears fell harder. “Please don’t leave me alone again.”

You watched him soften at your words, saw for the briefest moment the darkness he kept hidden from everyone, prayed that someday you’d get to help him heal.

‘So stupid…” He mumbled before pressing his lips back to yours, and you didn’t hold back. You gave him every piece of you. You fell into his flames and only wished you could burn, because as long as it was him, you would learn to love the scars he would leave. You would love everything for him.

It was hard at first, loving Bobby. He didn’t make it easy, never let you know how he was feeling. Only ever wanted to laugh with you, never wanted to show you a weaker side. When he had to leave after a full three weeks had passed, time to return home to work, he wasn’t sentimental about it. Didn’t care to acknowledge your feelings much at all.

“I’ll pick you up after work, so don’t leave until I get there.” He said sternly, ignoring the tears in your eyes. You sat on the edge of the bed and stared at the floor, fear gripping you at the thought that he wouldn’t be there hold your hand that night so you could dream. He gathered the small things he had delivered to the house, throwing them all in a duffle bag haphazardly. The silence weighed on you like cement, pouring over your limbs with such ferocity that you never wanted to get up again.

He squatted down in front of you after a while and leaned his arms on your knees, looking up at you with such sweet eyes that you wanted to hit him.

“You cry too much.” He said softly, resting his chin down onto his wrists, making his lips pout up at you.

“Stop making me cry all of the time then.” You complained, staring back at him. He smiled and leaned up, pressing his lips to yours. It was the sweetest thing, soft and gentle, pushing all of the sorrows you held to the back of your mind, every sadness cured by his lips and those puppy dog eyes he stared up at you with when he pulled away. He pressed another chaste kiss to your lips when he stood up and you smiled a little, enough to bring him some comfort as he walked towards the door.

“I’ll see you tonight.” He said, and just the thought of it made your heart race.

You prayed through your entire shift, prayed he wouldn’t lie, prayed he would really be there when you walked out that night. The way your heart leapt and fell at every car that passed while you stood outside made you nauseous, a sick you thought would only be cured by the sight of his smile. You waited for twenty minutes before turning to storm away, tired of standing in the cold, anger clouding your vision as you thought of all of the things you would say when you saw him next. It was just as you were pulling your phone out of your pocket that you noticed him a few feet away, leaning against the building you just came out of. He looked different, no longer sporting the t-shirt and sweats you always got to see, instead sporting a navy-blue suit, white t-shirt underneath, silver chain hanging the same place it always did. His hair was gelled back, a shade of class washing over him that you never knew was possible.

“What are you doing?!” You shouted, storming up to him and punching his shoulder.

“I was waiting for you! You seemed so busy watching traffic that I thought you might be waiting for someone else.” He said laughing, hands held up in defense. You hit him again, one more time for good measure before storming away, walking towards your building. He ran up behind you, lifting you up into the air and your laughter fell involuntarily from your lips as he spun you around and around. When your feet hit the sidewalk, you grabbed his arm, shaking the dizziness out of your eyes. He led you the rest of the way home and asked about your day, let you talk forever about the stupid things you had to deal with as if you were his favorite podcast to tune into, diligently listening and never interrupting.

When the tables turned and you asked about his day, he was short, never sharing more than a simple ‘it was okay, nothing special’. You hated how closed off he could be. Hated that he wouldn’t talk to you about everything the way you would talk with him.

“Do you ever get scared?” You asked and he looked at you.

“Scared of what?” He retorted and you tilted your head, curiosity taking over your thoughts.

“Scared of your life. The things you do. Aren’t you ever scared?” The words seemed to hit him in the same way they did when you had said you were worried about him weeks before. He shut down, fake smile filling up his cheeks, eyes empty as he chuckled lightly.

“No, I’m not scared.”

It broke your heart.

He walked you into your building, rode the elevator up to your floor in silence, a different person than the one who lifted you into the sky just a while before.

“Can you stay a while?” You asked, pressing in the code to your door and pushing it open. He didn’t enter behind you and you assumed that was his answer as you turned back.

“I can’t. I have some work I need to get home and finish.” He said with no regret in his eyes, so unemotional that your heart sunk at the thought of having to say goodbye.

Yuki was at his feet seconds later, pressed against his legs like he was her human magnet. You rolled your eyes as he lifted her into his arms, pressing kisses to her face and petting her.

“I’ll take her outside, is that okay?” he asked, and you nodded, jealousy ringing through your bones as you turned back to walk inside, an air of disappointment hanging around you. He grabbed your hand as it fell from the door and pulled you into his chest, Yuki now waiting beside his feet. His free hand wrapped around the back of your neck and pulled your lips to his, the taste of his tongue sweet like wine. It took you a little longer than him to react, but eventually, you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him as close as you could, never really feeling like you could get enough.

When he pulled away, you whined, a smile forming on his cheeks instantly at the sound.

“Stop crying all of the time.” He said, pressing a kiss to your nose before reaching down for Yuki and walking away. You let the door shut behind him, sighing as you walked to your dresser and grabbed random clothes to sleep in.

You waited for him to come back before getting in the shower, scared he would let Yuki in and leave without a word. Fifteen minutes passed before your phone was buzzing beside you.

“Where’d you go?” You asked, curious about why he was calling.

“Every time I set her down, she cries for me to pick her up. I don’t think she has to go to the bathroom. Maybe she’s sick?” he said, and you sighed, defeat settling in your chest.

“She wants to go home with you. Just take her.” You huffed out, annoyance apparent in your tone.

“Are you sure?” He asked and you groaned, standing up from the bed.

“Yes, she always liked you the most, I’m sure she’d just cry all night anyways if you weren’t here.” You said and walked into the bathroom, ready for the lonely night ahead without either of them.

He sighed on the other end. “Will you be okay?” He asked and you turned on the shower, letting it warm up.

“It’s nothing I’m not already used to.” You huffed out before hanging up. It was childish honestly, no real reason to be angry. You weren’t actually mad at all; you had just been so spoiled with his company that the thought of being alone upset you. You finished your shower after some time, drying yourself off before getting dressed and leaving the bathroom.

The first thing that surprised you was Yuki, walking in front of you, brushing her tail against your leg. The second was the sight of Bobby asleep in your bed, suit jacket hanging off of your kitchen chair, enough room beside him for you. You smiled, ringing your hair out before walking closer, climbing under the covers beside him. He immediately rolled over, wrapping his arms around you and crushing you into his chest.

“This is the last night. I mean it.” He mumbled and you smiled into him, the smell of his cologne intoxicating you in a way that alcohol never had, a drug you never wanted to get tired of. You dreamt of a field full of roses that night, all planted by Bobby just for you; his smile and laugh filling your ears like the greatest song you had ever heard. You played it on repeat until the sun came up.

Bobby was weak for you in so many ways, never told you ‘no’, never held you back from doing the things you wanted.

After a month and some odd weeks, you found yourself staying at his house more nights than he agreed to. He was desperate to keep you away from all of his darkness, told you before that he didn’t want you involved in his personal business, but you wanted every piece of him; craved it more than anything. He needed to be home so often that it was only logical you stayed with him, but in your heart, you knew it was more than that. You wanted to know him, to know the sides of him he never showed.

At first, you didn’t see it. He was always making you laugh, kissing your tears away when you were sad, holding you until you fell asleep every night.

He took you to small parties first, events where there would only be people that he trusted, people he knew wouldn’t lay a finger on you, but eventually he took you other places. Places that were dangerous, where Donghyuk and Junhoe, the guards he trusted the most, had to follow close behind, ready for anything that might happen. You loved the thrill you got being the girl Bobby chose, loved the way people stared and wondered who you were. Loved that you finally felt like someone people wanted to be, wanted to have. It was exhilarating, dressing in the beautiful gowns that Bobby bought you, expensive diamonds dripping down your neck, hanging from your ears. It was a life you never knew you could love, but you loved it even more than you had expected because Bobby was there.

Every turn you took, you got to see his shining eyes that made your heart swell up three sizes, made your chest ache in a way that you would never feel for anyone but him. He was the cold winter chill you craved at night, stealing your breath and breathing life into you at the same time.

When things got dangerous, Bobby grew quiet. Distant. He made you stay in the house, wouldn’t let you go to work.

“I can’t stay here forever Bobby; Sabrina has texted me for the past three nights that she needs me there. I have to go.” You complained while he paced the room, stress apparent in his tense shoulders and the furl in his eyebrows, jaw clenching over and over again. He hated this argument. Hated that you pushed so far into his personal space, but now you wanted freedom. Hated that you had become too important to let out of his sight, as if he could just sit at home and wait for you, thinking about all of the people who wanted you hurt because of him.

“This is why I tried to keep you away.” He mumbled, running his hands up and down his face. He stopped pacing and turned to you; gaze firmly fixed on the floor. “I told you that I needed to keep you away, but you just kept pushing, kept taking it further and further.”

You climbed off of the bed and walked up to him, taking his face in your hands. You tilted his head up some so that his eyes met yours and gave him a small smile.

“You cry too much.” You joked and he groaned, grabbing your wrists and pulling your arms around him in a hug. He rested his forehead on your shoulder, arms wrapped tightly around your waist, the gesture making your heart feel like it would burst. You combed your hand through the hair on the back of his neck and smiled against him.

“Can’t you just stay here forever? Stop trying to leave.” He mumbled sweetly into your neck, the smile on your cheeks growing five times larger. You pulled away and fell in love with the worry on his face, fell in love with the neediness in his voice.

“When did you get so cute?” You asked and he rolled his eyes, a small sigh falling from his lips. You leaned up on your tippy toes and kissed him once before pulling away, loving the way he peered down at you like you won the battle even though you barely had to fight. You kissed him one more time before walking across the room and grabbing your bag.

“I’ll text you as soon as I get there and you can pick me up whenever I’m finished at 2, okay?”

You turned back and he shoved his hands in his pockets, nodding a few times in agreement. You smiled, waving at him before walking out.

Junhoe stood at the front door, but you told him you would get a taxi, certain that if you let him drive, Bobby would make him stay and keep an eye on you. You didn’t need them to stress so much, didn’t need the stress yourself. So, you went to work alone.

While Sabrina was the closest thing you had to family, you didn’t see her very often. She hardly came to the bar unless there was a special reason, so when you saw her that night, arm attached to a man, you knew something was up.

“Y/n! I want you to meet my boyfriend!” She shouted and you smiled, the sound of her voice something you weren’t sure if you missed, but still giving you a sense of comfort that you enjoyed. Sabrina was beautiful for her age, tall with tanned skin, hair dark and long, signature bright red lipstick pasted on her lips as it always was. You had wondered when you first met her why she wasn’t married, but never pried. She complained often about how no man was good enough for her, no man was good enough for life in general, but it was apparent that her mind had changed.

The man stood beside her was handsome, tall and tan mirroring her perfectly, hair black and gelled back exposing the defining features of his face. His black suit was tailored perfectly, clinging to his broad shoulders in all of the right ways, white button up clasped all of the way to his neck.

You smiled at him politely and nodded your head, sticking your hand out to shake. He took it in his at the same time she said his name.

“This is Seunghyun!” The happiness in her voice was drowned out by the alarms going off in your head. You remembered the name, falling from Bobby’s bloody lips months ago in the woods; remembered him mentioning it several times after, always in conversations filled with malice and anger. Your blood ran cold as your eyes met his and it was in the way he squeezed your hand as you tried to pull away that told you he knew; he knew who you were. Your knees shook at the way evil danced in his eyes and it took everything in you to nod at him again, a fake smile pulling your cheeks up.

Sabrina remained oblivious to the tension, not caring that the atmosphere had changed the second she mentioned his name.

“Isn’t he so handsome, y/n?! Make us some drinks, we’re celebrating!” She squealed, and you were finally able to pull your hand away, immediately turning to grab some glasses. Your heart was racing, filled with fear and anxiety. You poured out the drinks she requested while she went on and on about how they wanted to get married as soon as possible, wanted to have kids. It was hard to ignore the feeling of Seunghyun’s eyes on the back of your neck, hair raising at the thought that he was planning something to hurt Bobby. Why else would he be there?

You turned and set the drinks in front of them before excusing yourself, cell phone in hand. You were just about to press dial on Bobby’s number, hand resting on the restroom door when a hand grabbed your wrist, whipping you back around. Seunghyun’s eyes looked even darker in the dim light of the hallway as he pulled your phone from your hand. He smiled a little at the sight of Bobby’s name before locking it the screen and reaching behind you, stuffing it in the back pocket of your jeans.

“We obviously have business to take care of. Let’s talk somewhere more private.” He said, pulling you out the back exit. Winter was coming to an end, air warm enough to go without a jacket, but goosebumps ran up and down your arms despite that. His grip never left your wrist, shoving you up against the brick wall of the bar.

“This can go one of two ways. You can tell me Bobby’s plans or things…” He ran a finger down your cheek, standing much too close for your comfort. “Can get ugly.”

You took a deep breath and tried to steady your nerves, fear gripping you like a cobra.

“I- I don’t know anything. He never talks about that stuff in front of me.” It came out too shaky, like you were lying. His grip on your wrist tightened and you yelped, trying to twist away from him, but he slammed you back against the cement even harder, free hand snaking into your hair and tightening. He pushed you to the ground, hair pulling so you would look up at him while tears fell down your face.

“You don’t know anything?” He retorted, and you shook your head, begging for him to let you go.

“I swear, I don’t know anything, I don’t! Please let me go, I promise I don’t know anything!”

He hummed in reply, looking around as if he was thinking of what to do. It was a few minutes later when his grip loosened, letting you collapse on your hands and knees. You quickly scrambled away from him, back pressing against the wall as you stood up. He dusted his hands off on his pants and smoothed out his hair.

“You’re the closest person to him, yet you don’t know anything?” He added with a chuckle and you didn’t speak. “Must not be that close.”

The last part was a mumble and his eyes met yours again. “Still, I’m keeping you close. Don’t let me find out you’re lying to me. I would hate to break Sabrina’s heart, she’s pretty fond of you.”

He straightened out his suit before walking back inside. You sank to the ground, burying your face in your hands. The sound of his voice echoed around in your mind and it terrified you, all of your senses in overdrive. You could hear Bobby’s voice, telling you not to leave, trying to push you away, could see his face when Miko hit you, the image replaying over and over again, his eyes empty but voice filled with insane anger. He tried to make you stay home, begged you to stay. He would think it was his fault and you wanted to vomit at the thought, overwhelming concern filling you up quicker than before, and there was another problem. Seunghyun was dating Sabrina. You weren’t sure if he had any real feelings for her, if he had only used her to get close to you, but you were sure of her feelings for him.

The thoughts flew through your mind too fast, you could breathe, couldn’t see a way out, felt like the world was closing in around you until you opened your eyes and found that it wasn’t. You took a few deep breaths, pulling yourself off of the ground and wiping the tears from your face. After walking back inside, you went straight back to work, letting Sabrina ramble on and on about her new-found love, ignored the glares from Seunghyun. Tried your best to let the numbness wash over you for the night.

Sabrina’s arms wrapped around you before you left, telling her you had to leave early to feed Yuki.

“Please come around more. I know I don’t see you a lot, but I love you and I need you. More than anyone.” Alcohol fueled her words, but tears still filled your eyes at the sentiment. “Not just because I need employees, but because… you’re like a little sister to me.”

You let her hug you for a few more seconds before pulling away. “I’ll call you. I promise.” You said softly, quickly walking out before she could see your tears.

You took a taxi home, leaving earlier than Bobby would have expected, planning on showing up before he left to avoid him find out about Seunghyun. You stood outside of the house for a while, calming your nerves and trying your best to appear normal. It was just as you were about to push the door open that Bobby walked out.

“Oh,” surprise written on his face when he saw you standing there. “You told me to pick you up, what happened?”

You stared at him blankly and had the hardest time keeping it together. You wanted to melt into his arms, let him kiss away your tears, wanted him to hold you while you told him everything. Instead you smiled, the fake expression coming to you more naturally than expected.

“I got off early so I wanted to surprise you.” You lied, wrapping your arms around his waist. Your head was buzzing with anxiousness, resting your chin on his chest while he tilted his head, looking down at you quizzically. You worried if he could read your thoughts, if he could see the fear hidden behind your smile, but after a few seconds he wrapped his arms around your neck and pressed his lips to yours. The smile that raised on his cheeks was enough to settle some of your anxiety and you held him tighter.

“Let’s go get food.” He said and you were grateful. Grateful that you were able to keep this secret, grateful that you could go to bed later that night with Bobby smiling and joking, holding you in his arms with the same warmth and tenderness that always brought tears to your eyes. He kissed all of the worries you couldn’t tell him about away and your heart loved him more then than you ever expected it could. You never wanted to see sadness or anger in him, not over you. So, you held it in, kept your fear to yourself, prayed every night that you could avoid it, prayed that Bobby would never stop smiling at you.

Seunghyun kept his distance at first, never put his hands on you or pushed you for information. He seemed to be convinced that Bobby didn’t really care about you, and while the thought stung, you knew it wasn’t true, so you ignored it. Sabrina was by his side every night, and since the first meeting you had with him, you refused to leave from behind the bar while he was there. Bobby never found out. You kept him at a distance from your work, finding any excuse you could to keep him from coming to pick you up. He hated it initially, but eventually he seemed to accept that you would be fine taking a taxi home. Life seemed fairly normal for a while, like things would actually be okay.

It was a month later when you were getting ready to leave work that everything came crashing down. All customers had gone for the night as you stacked the last pair of chairs on a table, excited to go home, eat dinner and watch a movie with Bobby. It had been a long night, a night that you weren’t prepared to deal with Seunghyun walking through the front door, obvious distress written on his face. There was another man with him, blood running down his nose while Seunghyun sported a black eye and bloody lip. The anger that seethed off of the two of them had you standing up straight, backing away immediately.

“You knew, didn’t you?” He accused roughly, and the air around you froze at the sight of his dark eyes. You shook your head instinctively, but he didn’t listen, lunging at you and wrapping his hands around your neck. You fell to the ground, gasping as he squeezed tighter and tighter, tears choking you in the same way Seunghyun was. You were clawing at him, kicking your legs, not connecting with anything as desperation poured in your stomach. “You fucking knew!” He screamed.

You shook your head, gasping for air, eyes blurring when you couldn’t bring anything in. The pressure his fingers had around your throat, squeezing without hesitance, eyes raging, it made your body shake with fear.

“I didn’t-“ You tried to force the words out as black spots clouded your vision. He pulled his hands away as everything went dark and you took in a deep breath, rolling on your side as you clutched your chest, coughing spasmodically.

“He took out half of my men. Half of my fucking men! I’ll fucking kill him!”

He wasn’t screaming at you, turned around and throwing chairs, flipping tables. You tried to pull yourself off of the ground, hands shaking with adrenalin as he turned back towards you. When his eyes met yours, you turned to run towards the exit, feet not quick enough for his reaction. His hands gripped your hair, throwing you back to the ground. You screamed and his leg swung back, kicking you in the ribs once before rearing back and kicking you again and again. The oxygen that filled your lungs seconds before was gone, and you swore you felt something crack, no longer counting the blows you felt in your ribs. Your eyes went blurry for a few seconds, pain shooting through you like lightning.

“I swear I didn’t know; I swear!” You gasped out, hands gripping your left side as he stepped back.

He stared down at you like a lion hunting its prey. You had never felt so vulnerable, like he could kill you any second, the mania in his eyes terrifying you in a way nothing ever had. It was funny how the only thing that flashed through you mind was two nights before when Yuki threw a hairball up on Bobby’s pillow. He was so angry, yelling and cleaning it at the same time, screaming about how he was supposed to be her favorite. Ten minutes later, they were curled up in bed together, sleeping. Love pumped through your veins like the mechanisms of your heart worked only for him.

Seunghyun chuckled, squatting down in front of you. You flinched back as his hand reached out to grab your chin, turning your head up towards him. He was quiet for a long time, studying your expression.

“He really doesn’t tell you anything?”

You shook your head ‘no’ with tears in your eyes, too scared to speak, scared he would hurt you again; the pain you felt already too much to bear. The silence extended on for eons in your mind before he finally nodded and stood up.

“I guess we’ll see how much he cares when you show up like that.” He lit a cigarette and took a deep inhale of it before walking out with his partner, not saying another word.

It took you close to an hour to pull yourself off of the floor, ribs cramping like torture every time you took too deep of a breath. You locked the doors to the bar and walked to the bathroom, every step a challenge. Your face was tear soaked but otherwise free from marks, however deep red/purple bruises trailed along your neck, the tactile memory of Seunghyun’s hands causing your stomach to ache. You splashed cool water on your face, wiping away the ruined mascara that dripped down your cheeks in trails, before you lifted up your shirt. You could feel the ache inside, knowing the bruise would be bad, already appearing over your entire ribcage. Your lips trembled at the site, tears forming as another sharp pain took your breath away, causing you to lean over the sink for some stability.

Another thirty minutes had passed before you pulled out your phone and texted Bobby that you would be home late, but he responded just as quickly.

From; Bobby [02:48am]

Too late, I just pulled up

Your heart sped up, not bothering with a reply as you stuffed the phone back in your pocket. You stood up straight and practiced taking some deep breaths, fighting off every wave of pain and nausea that came in response. It took some time, but eventually you thought you could pull it off, thought you could trick both yourself and Bobby that everything would be okay. You grabbed your jacket from the front and pulled it over your arms, zipping it up all of the way so it covered your neck.

When the fresh spring air greeted you as you walked outside, you were met with the sight of Bobby leaned against his car on the street. He smiled as soon as he saw you, putting your heart at ease for the first and probably last time that night. Walking was simple, painful, but easier than breathing.

“What took you so long?!” He asked, happier than usual. You stopped in front of him and waited for him to move from the passenger door so you could get in, a smile forming on your lips.

“I don’t feel very good.” You lied, hoping the way you felt now could pass as an illness to his eyes. Concern flashed over his features as he opened your door and you slid past him, getting in as nonchalantly as you could. He slid into the driver’s seat moments later and you ignored the looks of worry he threw at you while he questioned what was wrong.

“I just have a stomachache, don’t worry.” You mumbled out, closing your eyes. That kept him quiet, hoping to let you rest some on the ride home. Every bump and turn brought tears to you, bile burning in the back of your throat. It felt like the longest ride home you had ever taken.

When he pulled up to the house, you prepared yourself for the pain of getting out, Bobby rushing to your side to help. He took your hand and pulled you up, which was the task you were most worried for. It wasn’t as bad as you expected with him taking most of your weight to help you up. You walked inside fairly normal after, steps too slow, drawing Bobby’s attention even more. Making it to the bedroom felt like the biggest victory, throwing your bag on the ground just inside the door like you were carrying a fifty-pound weight.

“Should I make you something? Are you hungry?” He asked and you shook your head, just wanting to sit down. You walked to the bed and he helped you, pulling your shoes off and setting them on the floor.

The adrenalin had worn out of your system long before, exhaustion rattling in your bones after everything you had been through, mind too tired to stop him from helping. He was grabbing the zipper on your jacket before time finally caught up with you. You grabbed his hands as they started to pull it down, desperation bleeding out in your fingertips.

“Don’t!” you said wide eyed, fear clutching your chest, ribs spasming with the deep inhale you took in. You let go of one of his hands to clutch your side and his eyes were scanning you, gauging the situation.

“Tell me what’s wrong.” He said, watching as the tears now fell down your cheeks, pain from crying only making the pain worse. “y/n, what happened?”

You looked up at him, pleading with your eyes, ‘please let it go’.

His gaze hardened as he brushed your hands away, unzipping the jacket. The bruises had gotten worse over on hour, covering the sides of your neck in the pattern of a hand. You couldn’t look at Bobby’s face, couldn’t see anything through the tears that poured down your cheeks. When he stepped away from you, hands falling to his sides, you stood up, hand clutching your ribs. He hesitated before stepping closer, only to pull up your shirt, revealing the bruise splayed across your ribs. You quickly moved his hand away (not near quick enough), pulling your shirt back down.

He looked sick, the palest you had ever seen him, tears filling his eyes as you grabbed his face.

“Bobby, it’s fine, really. I’m fine, don’t worry about it.” He shoved your hands away and you shook as sobs broke through, fear masking the pain you felt moments before.

“Who did that?” He asked, too quiet, eyes filled with disgust and betrayal. You shook your head, not sure how to speak, how to tell him the secrets you kept. “Who the fuck did it, y/n?! Tell me!”

He was screaming and you covered your face with your hands, wishing you could take it all back. You told him everything. Told him about the first night Seunghyun came into the bar with Sabrina, how he threatened you, how you didn’t want to worry him.

“He doesn’t know, Bobby, he doesn’t think we’re that close. He won’t hurt me again, it’s okay.” You cried out and he wouldn’t make eye contact. Wouldn’t look at you at all. He let you finish talking before nodding his head, those same emotionless eyes you saw the night Miko hit you present.

He brushed past you to leave and you tried to grab his arm, but he shook you off.

“Bobby, wait!” You cried after him as he walked down the stairs. You followed close behind, ignoring the pain in your lungs so you could keep up.

“Donghyuk!” He yelled, the person in question appearing in front of him within seconds. “Get her things and take her home.”

He said it so simply that you didn’t comprehend it at first, but once the words mulled over in your mind, you were frantic.

“Bobby, stop!” You yelled, hand gripping his arm. He whipped towards you, pulling out of your grasp, all of his anger flurrying behind the eyes that were now directed at you.

“Don’t ever come back here, do you hear me?” He seethed and you shook your head, ready to fall to the floor, beg him to let you stay. “I told you it wasn’t safe, told you that you needed to stay out of it, but you didn’t listen. And you lied to me.”

You tried to grab for him again, but he stepped away, turning back to Donghyuk once more. “Take her home now.”

He shoved past you, ripping your hands off of him when you grabbed his shirt, ignoring the way you stumbled back and hit the counter. He didn’t look back when you screamed his name, didn’t look back as you tried to pull yourself from the hold Donghyuk took on your arm. He didn’t look back at all. Everything felt broken, dark and miserable, the uncomfortable feeling of loneliness seeping through your skin, clinging to your bones as you cried in the car after Donghyuk forced you in and buckled your seatbelt. He threw a bag of things he found throughout the house that were yours in the trunk and set Yuki on your lap.

When you made it to your apartment building, he had to practically carry you up, pain soaking through your ribs and making it even harder to breathe after all of the useless effort you put into screaming Bobby’s name, begging him to let you stay.

“You should go to the hospital tomorrow. Take two of these pills before you sleep and again in the morning.”

Donghyuk didn’t walk inside of the apartment, instead set your belongings just inside the door before thrusting a plastic bag filled with pills into your hands without so much as a goodbye before leaving. It was cold inside, colder now that it was just you and Yuki, the memory of Bobby sleeping on your mattress bringing a fresh wave of tears to your eyes. You poured a glass of water and took two pills from the bag, swallowing without a worry of what they were, hoping they would stop the world from spinning. You walked to the bed and sat down, staring into the darkness, wondering how you got there. How you could lie to Bobby for months and expect him to forgive you.

The sound of Yuki meowing beside the door, waiting as if he would walk in any second, made you bury your face in your hands, head pounding.

“He’s not coming Yuki.” You said softly, but she wouldn’t stop, her meowing constant, the silence that followed each reminding you of how alone you truly were, wishing you could drown in the sobs that were now choking you.

“Yuki please, please stop, he isn’t coming back.” You cried, hands covering your ears. “He isn’t coming back!”

You were shaking, wishing it would all end, begging her to stop crying for someone who was gone, someone who didn’t want her anymore. “Please, please stop!” Chest aching as your heart hammered wildly at the thought of a future without Bobby’s smiles, without his eyes, without his kisses. Thought about how you would rather die than never feel his love again.

It was hours later when you were finally able to sleep, no dreams of gentle kisses or shining eyes coming to you, no nightmares of the dark because you were already living in your own hell; you didn’t need any other realities to plague you that night.

Living without Bobby felt wrong, like there was no reason to wake up if he wasn’t beside you. You ignored Donghyuk’s advice of going to the hospital, took the pills that dulled the pain like they were candy instead. There were enough to get you through three days. You only got of bed to go to the bathroom, refused to shower, only ate when you had nothing left to throw up.

Sabrina called on the third day. You ignored it at first, letting it ring over and over again until the buzzing gave you a migraine. You answered after her seventh try.

“I need you to come to work tonight.” She said immediately, no real urgency in her tone.

“I can’t Sabrina, I’m sorry.” You replied, voice hoarse and dry.

She was silent for a few seconds before clearing her throat. “I hate to pull this card, but you owe me, big time and you know that, so I need you to come, whatever is happening I can help you with. Be here in an hour.”

She hung up without a reply and you stared at the ceiling, wishing the world would swallow you up. Your limbs felt like loaded down bricks as you pulled yourself from the bed, immediately taking Yuki outside. The day after you came home and cried yourself to sleep, you woke up with her on your chest and immediately broke down in tears again. You couldn’t imagine why she always came back even now that Bobby was gone, but she did, let you pull her into your arms and carry her upstairs.

Getting a shower made you feel surprisingly nice, despite the aches and pains that took over your torso with the movement and pressure. You could feel yourself healing, at least physically, and that gave you some form of relief. It was well over an hour later that you made it to the bar, not worried about being late when it was an accomplishment that you got out of bed at all. You found yourself deeply confused when you saw all of the curtains were drawn, no lights on inside, but you walked in anyways pulling out your phone’s flashlight and turning on the lights as the door shut behind you.

It took a second for your eyes to adjust, but when they did, your stomach flipped.

Bobby sat tied to a chair in the middle of the room, nose bleeding, dark hair a mess. Duct tape covered his mouth, and his eyes widened at the sight of you. You ran over, heart racing, confusion and fear fueling your actions.

“What happened?!” You shouted in a whisper as you started to pull the tape from his lips, tears filling your eyes, only to be answered with a hand on the back of your neck that paralyzed you with fear.

It was terrifying, how you never heard Seunghyun in the room, how you he moved close enough to put a hand on you without even the mildest realization that he was there.

“Yes, y/n, what did happen?” He mumbled in your ear. Bobby’s face was masked with fury and frustration as he stared up at you, arms and legs flexing as he struggled to free himself.

“You see, you had me under the impression that maybe you were a showpiece, a stand in at parties that had no real emotional connection with this guy, that’s how you made it seem the other night, but what confuses me is how I end up being hunted down after our little run in. After I was nice enough to let you leave in one piece.” His laugh was sinister and sent chills down your spine as the grip on the back of your neck tightened, causing you to flinch. You noticed Sabrina standing beside the bar, tears in her eyes, apology written on her face as well as a bloody lip.

“Tell me, y/n, why have I been chased all over the city for the last 72 hours if Bobby doesn’t care about you?”

You shook your head, tears falling down your cheeks. “I don’t know. I- I told you that it wasn’t that serious Seunghyun!” His grip released from your neck and you turned to face him but were met with the back of his hand across your cheek. You stumbled back and Bobby groaned from the chair, eyes raging.

“You’re lying.” He laughed out, cracking his knuckles while you moved yourself behind a table, tears taking your breath away as you tried to find a way out of this. “I’m so tired of people lying to me.” He pulled a knife out from waistband of his pants, simultaneously sucking the air out of the room.

It was a split second, the glance you shared across the room with Sabrina. She nodded once and it was like you shared the same thoughts. You turned and ran as fast as you could to the back exit, heart beating wildly, the sound of Seunghyun’s feet racing closer and closer fueling the adrenalin that pushed you forward.

You had just made it into the back alleyway when his hand closed around your shoulder, shoving you towards the ground. You turned back, trying to crawl away but he lifted you by your shirt.

“You’re gonna pay for that.” He hissed out; knife pressed to your neck. You choked out a sob and he smiled, bringing his face closer to yours.

“Such a shame you had to cause all of this trouble. You have the prettiest face.” He pressed his lips to yours and you reeled away, trying to tilt your head back as far as you could. When he pulled back, he laughed, no humor behind it. “Such a lousy kisser. Oh well, I won’t be dealing with you anymore anyways.”

He dragged the knife down your cheek, applying enough pressure to leave the sting of open skin along it, blood mixing with the tears that fell. He changed his grip on the knife and held it up in the air, a scream falling from your lips with clenched eyes, at the same time the sound of a gun cocking halted his movements. You looked up to see the barrel of it pressed to the side of Seunghyun’s head, Bobby’s hands steady though the anger in his form was apparent. He looked down at Seunghyun with a look so intimidating that it made you shake.

“Stand up.” He said, never pulling the gun away from his face, stepping closer to grip his collar in his fist. Seunghyun smiled, never taking his eyes off of you as he stood up straight, hands pulling away from your neck.

The events that happened next went quicker than you could keep up with; he whipped around to knock the gun from Bobby’s at the same time Bobby pulled the knife from Seunghyun, both weapons flying away as they fell to the ground. Fists connecting with flesh, the sound making you sick as your stomach rolled over and over, images flying through your mind of all of the anger, all of the darkness that consumed your life. You couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think, could only follow the hollow paces that your body took you through, standing up from the ground, grabbing the gun that laid before you, emptiness taking the seat of the fear that once controlled you. You remembered seeing Bobby shove Seunghyun away, but after that it was black, the sound of a gun ringing so close, ‘who was shooting?’, ‘who got shot?’, thoughts racing so fast that your head spun.

When you came to, your arm was extended, pistol firmly griped in your hand. You were shaking, tears falling from your eyes as muffled voices shouted around you, voices you couldn’t make out clearly. Bobby’s face appeared in front of yours and you sobbed.

“Y/n, drop the gun!” He yelled, but you couldn’t do anything. You felt paralyzed, fear regaining control as it took over everything inside of you. The sobs wouldn’t stop, tears endless, bones shaking wildly.

“Y/n, it’s okay. You’re okay, I’m here.” Bobby took your face in his hands and you dropped the gun, the sight of his eyes pulling you back into reality. He pulled you into his chest and you gripped him like he was the only thing keeping you on earth, like you would die if he let you go. He held you in his arms, keeping your head pressed to his chest so you couldn’t see the body in front of you, protecting you from the world because he felt like he let you down. Felt like he failed.

Sabrina’s hand touched your back and you flinched before turning around. Her eyes were sincere, broken and numb like yours.

“I’ll tell them it was self-defense. Go.” She said and Bobby’s hand clasped around yours before you could say a word.

Bobby pulled you through the alley, guiding you the same way you did for him months before when you found him in the woods. He walked you into the building, entered the code to your apartment, all but carried you inside. He stood with you in the middle of your room, holding you tightly to his chest until you felt like you wouldn’t collapse with every breath you took. Ran his hands through your hair, whispered in your ear over and over that you were safe until you actually believed it.

“I killed someone.” You mumbled into his chest and he pulled away to see you. Your eyes burned with tears; throat thick with the words that fell from your mouth, not sure how to handle the reality of them.

His lips pressed against yours before he pulled you back into his chest.

“He would have killed you.” He whispered. Images of Seunghyun pressing a knife to your face, chapped lips pressed to yours, the smell of pine and beer making your head spin in a nauseating way.

You wrapped your arms around Bobby’s waist and found comfort in the way his warmth hadn’t changed. Found comfort in the sound of his heartbeat, the sound of your favorite coming home. Found comfort in the way he smelled like mint and laundry detergent, so different from Seunghyun.

“Can we go home?” You asked and felt the rumble of a laugh in his chest.

“How could you still want to be with me after today?” He questioned, pulling away from you some.

You looked at him, face serious. “I want to be with you forever.”

You expected him to push you away, shut you down and draw a line, but he didn’t. Instead he kissed you with all of the words he couldn’t say yet, kissed you with a thousand forever’s that answered every question you would ever ask.

Bobby was like fire, but sometimes you felt the same. Your secrets looked so tempting in the orange flames that rose from your shoulders, begging to be loved even though you knew the destruction you could bring. You never wanted anything but to love someone, even if it brought you ruin in the end. Meeting him was fate, flames joining and igniting in ways neither of you expected. He settled your soul more than you deserved and sometimes you ignited his, but it was okay because you had each other. Two lonely embers begging to be touched when the rest of the world broke them down, left them empty. It warmed you from the inside out, his kisses, his smiles, the magical way he brought the stars down to earth for you to see.

“I love you.” You said one night, a few months later, watching him put dishes away so mundanely that you couldn’t remember all of his dark parts. He looked back at you sitting on top of the kitchen counter with such a puzzled expression that you smiled. “I love you, Bobby.” You repeated.

His silence didn’t scare you, didn’t make you rethink your words or regret anything, having kept them inside even though you had felt them long before. Instead it settled all of your fears, wiped out all of your worries, the adoration that poured from his gaze filling you up with all of the love you ever needed. He walked closer and stood in between your legs, looking up at you. Your hands snaked around his neck as his rested down beside you. You ran your hands through his hair and kissed him lightly once before pulling away, resting your forehead on his. His eyes were shining in the way they always did, a glow that only you were luck enough to see.

“So stupid.” He whispered before pressing his lips to yours.

A love you knew would never be perfect, something you would have to fight for until the day you died. He gripped the backs of your thighs and pulled you closer, ankles crossing around his waist as he smiled into your lips. You fell into the fire of his soul, promised to yourself then that you would love every single piece of him even if it was the end of you. Whatever it took, you would burn for him.

A/N - Guys!!!! Bobby has taken over my heart and soul during my social distancing, and I have been up writing this for the last 6 nights until 5am, complete ruining my sleep schedule, but I just couldn’t sleep until I got my heart out for him dude!!! I hope you guys love this, it is absolutely the longest fic I have ever written, and I worked major hard on it, so plz give me some love/likes/critiques, anything is welcome!! I absolutely love hearing from you guys, so I hope you get some feels from this. Love you all!!! Hope you’re staying safe in this crazy world!

#ikon fanfic #ikon reactions #ikon scenarios #ikon imagines #kim jiwon fic #kim jiwon fanfic #bobby fanfic #bobby imagine #ikon bobby #ikon bobby fanfiction #ikon fanfiction #ikon bobby imagine #jiwon fluff #jiwon angst #ikon angst #ikon fluff #ikon bobby fic #hooneybaek:burn

104 notes · View notes