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madllamamomma · 3 years

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The Visitor~ Part 4

Rhemi x Muriel fanfic. [Warning: the following contains graphic language and mentions blood.]

Part 4~

Père~

Nearly fully sprinting at this point, Rhemi tries her best to make it on time to the palace gates to meet her father. The time really got away from her this morning, despite her waking up before the crack of dawn. Luckily, it’s not raining today, the sky is nice and clear and there’s even a light breeze, but it’s still rather chilly. At least the sun is there to keep her warm today, a good day for walking around.

As she hurries through the busy streets inching closer and closer to the palace, she can’t help but feel so nervous, yet rather excited at the same time. An entire morning with her father! Oh how excited she was to have someone else to talk to about advance spells, incantations, and all other sorts of magic! Her friends were always there to talk to her, but she doesn’t remember having someone this groomed and experienced before.

Not to mention, she couldn’t wait to show him around the city that she is so proud of and loved. Countess Nadia, Consul Valerius, Portia (who is now a chamberlain) and the citizens have been so busy building and improving the city in the last year. Where there were once slums, sinking, underwater neighborhoods, or rough and sketchy places are now where new homes, restaurants, and shops are thriving. Vesuvia has honestly never been better. It seems like everyday Nadia and the citizens have been improving it more and more each and every day.

Turning the final corner to the central part of the city reveals the palace and all its marvelous splendor. Rhemi can feel her heart fluttering in her chest as she sees Martin just exiting the gates by two guards. Dressed in fancy foreign clothes like the day before but different colors and the same silk blue cape and jeweled cane… Except there was no hat on his head, and no badger draped across his shoulders. Martin peers down at his pocket watch with a sore expression, before he notices his daughter jogging towards him. A bright smile takes over his lips, that icy exterior partially melts away yet again.

Nearly out of breath, slowing down her stride as she prances towards him giddily. “Good morning!” She huffs with a tired grin and a little sweat on her brow.

“Well, good morning to you too, Rhemielia.” Martin replies, blindly putting away his pocket watch. “Running a wee bit behind are we?”

With a nervous smile, she scratches the back of her head. “Sorry, I was practicing a new spell. Lost track of time—You know how it is…. I-I hope? Or maybe it’s just me.”

Thinking he’d be interested, and ask what kind of spell she’s working on, she prepares herself to gush about it. But instead, he offers her arm not seeming to have really listened to what she had just said. “Mmm—Shall we?”

Rhemi shakes herself out of her mindset, her grin wide, happily taking his arm. “Oh—We shall.” There are plenty of other things to talk about other than magic.

As soon as the two start walking down the street an awkward dead quiet suddenly takes over. Never has silence been so loud, even when Rhemi started getting to know Muriel, it wouldn’t feel this awkward. After a couple of minutes, it becomes unbearable for both of them as they continue to walk aimlessly down the street.

“...So—”

“Did you—”

Both of them try to break the silence at the same time. But as soon as the other one started to speak, they hushed up quickly again thinking one of them would continue.

“... My apolo—”

“... Sorry—”

Blush starts to take over both of their cheekbones as they both fumble terribly for a proper foot hole to start a conversation.

“After you—”

“Go aheaaa—Ahhhhh.”

Finally the two stop in their tracks and look at one another a bit embarrassed. Unable to contain herself anymore, Rhemi snorts through her nose at this complete ridiculous awkwardness, breaking all the exhausting tension. After breaking down this unneeded discomfort, Martin then lets out a soft startled chuckle along with her, making his laughter lines next to his temples come out for once.

“Go ahead.” Rhemi says with a cheery smile, giving him a small nudge with her elbow.

But he shakes his head, patting her hand still loop through his other arm, a smile remaining on his face. “No, No—Please, ladies first.”

“Alrighty then…” She replies and they both proceed to stroll down the street again. “Did you sleep well?”

He sighs and thinks about that question with a shrug rolling off his shoulders. “Well enough, I suppose. However, I discovered it difficult to fall asleep after finding out your long lost daughter is still alive and well after all these years”

She laughs through her nose giving him a knowing look. “Yeah—I can relate to that… Except finding out about having a father.”

A fond grin faintly spreads on his lips as they stand there for a moment. Finally, Rhemi had to ask. “So where’s Beatrix today?”

“Oh—I left her behind today so she could get some rest. The damn badger never sleeps on the ship… She’s always hunting for filthy rodents on the deck at night.”

“I hope she’s get some rest then….. Is your hat resting too?”

“.... Beg your pardon??” He quickly replies, tilting his head rather confused.

“You’re not wearing your hat today. So is it resting too?” She kids.

“Oh….” Realizing what she is asking, Martin grins a little wider making the wrinkles in his cheeks visible, and a faint flash of cold in his glance. “... You can say that…”

“I think you look better without it anyways.”

Warmth in his eyes returns, and he looks at her rather flattered. “..... Really?”

“Tee-hee~ I like your hair… I wish I inherited your color. It’s different.” Rhemi says with a smile.

“Ha! I don’t remember the last time someone complimented this overly ripe hair of mine.” Her father instinctinky slicks his thick plum and gray mane back with the other hand. “Thank you….”

“You’re welcome.”

“.... So, my Pigeon—” He says taking back his cane with his free hand. “What part of this…. lovely…. quaint little city… are you going to show me?” He sounds half sarcastic when he says lovely and quaint, but Rhemi doesn’t seem to even pay any attention to that, too distracted with her own thoughts.

Ooooooh no—I haven’t thought that far… she thinks to herself, tapping her pointer finger on her chin, pondering hard.

She looks left and right still thinking of the best place to start. Then she finally has an idea. “Hmmmm…. Well, have you had breakfast yet?”

“As a matter of fact, no, I have not.”

“Perfect. I know just the place!” She says excitedly as she tugs him along with a wide silly smile on her face. “Hope you're hungry!”

“We’ll see…” He mumbles to himself not convinced in the slightest.

It isn’t too long before the two come across the heart district where the marketplace is. Even though it’s early on a weekend day, the market is still bustling with people, buying, selling, haggling and negotiating goods.

Of course the apprentice first took her father to one of her favorite bakers named Selasi in town to get some fresh pumpkin bread to start the day.

The poor Selasi’s stall was left in ruin just like everything else in the market after Lucio’s and his army of mercenaries took over the city after the Masquerade. But every since then, he had gotten recognized by the countess when everyone was refugees in the forest next to the hut. All the Parkain royals along with Nadia were impressed with the baker's delicious food, even with what little he had, it was amazing. After everyone returned and started rebuilding, he turned his simple stall into a full on shop and cafe and named it, ‘Selasi’s Bakery’.

He even picked up an apprentice of his own named Agrippa. A very tall and handsome person with powdery white skin, long light-grayish hair styled in pigtails tied and a loop at the ends, blue eyes and a smooth mid-ranged voice. They made Rhemi’s favorite cakes and sweets, and even somehow improved the baker’s pumpkin bread recipe. They even recently started dating Portia after she finally asked them out and the two have been going steady since the fall.

“Well—This is the market!” Rhemi introduces to her father, still leading him towards the bakers.

Her father scans the bustling market with an unimpressed look on his face. “Doesn’t seem like this part has changed.” He mutters to himself forcing himself not to sneer.

“What was that?” Rhemi asks, unable to catch his muttering with all the loud noises from the market goers.

“I asked, ‘where are you taking me to’, Pigeon? ”

“Oh! To one of my very favorite places to get pumpkin bread~” She says as they arrive at the baker’s shop, the air is filled with sweet, buttery and savory aromas and Rhemi opens the door making the bell chime.

“Well, well, well. If it isn’t trouble~” Agrippa teases with their charming smirk.

“Oh yeah, you should talk!” Rhemi giggles back, coaxing her father inside with her hand. He enters unenthusiastically looking at all of the food as Rhemi continues with their small talk. “How are you, Ippa?”

“Good, thank you, Bean! Business has been steady like always.”

“Where’s Selasi today?”

“Getting some more flour. I told him I’d go, but he insists that he has to ‘let the flour speak to him’ or whatever. How’s the wedding planning going? Portia told me you’ve been stressed out a little.” They say as they lean into the counter that they normally tower over.

“Things are coming together finally.” She says with an exhausted, but relieved sigh. “With Julian and Portia taking care of the little things, I could focus on the bigger things. All that is left is my last fitting for my dress now. So I think it’s safe to say it’ll be all smooth sailing from here!”

“Muriel dropped off the toppers yesterday. They look amazing! Your bow has some amazing talent. I can’t wait for everyone to see it.”

Rhemi’s eyes brighten up and her lips twist up even more. “Oooo! Let me see!”

“Nooooope~ I have very specific instructions to not let the bride see. It is supposed to be a surprise.” Agrippa says while straightening up their long trunk and folding their arms across their chest. “Sorry~”

Rhemi gives them a smile, pouts, then gives them a quick raspberry like a ten year old. She then rolls her eyes knowing they wouldn’t let her see them, and turns to her father and walks over to him.“OH! There is someone I’d like you to meet!”

“Oh? Who?”

Taking his arm once again, she leads her father to the counter. “Père, this is Agrippa, the baker’s apprentice.”

With one look at the nobleman, Agrippa's eyes widened. “Père? Doesn’t that mean…?” They trail off slowly connecting the dots. “I didn’t know you had a father!”

“Well neither did I!” She says with a giddy smile. “Not till yesterday.”

“Well… How do you do? I’m Agri—”

“Agrippa… yes I heard.” Martin replies a bit snootily. “I am Sir Remington Martin Alarie III, the Archmagister and head chamberlain of his Royal majesty of the Great Charlès.”

Realizing rather quickly what kind of man Martin was, Agrippa puts on a smirk and stops themself from sputtering. “Well, ‘Sir Remington Martin Alarie III, the Archmagister and head chamberlain of his Royal majesty of the Great Charlès’.” They double over the counter in a long bow deepening their voice playfully to mimic him. “I am but a humble baker who is blessed to be a friend of your lovely daughter.” They say bringing their body back up. “How do you do, Sir? ”

“I was told by my daughter that this was where her favorite pumpkin bread was made.”

“You’ve come to the right place! In fact—” Agrippa replies with a smile dashing off to the brick ovens for a moment donning oven mitts on their hands. “Got a fresh batch right here!”

Rhemi eyes light up with joy and hunger and she wiggles her hips in sheer happiness. “You are going to love it!” She sings to her father and he gives her a half smile.

The baker’s apprentice cuts them both a generous piece wrapped up in a bit of parchment paper. “Here ya’ go!”

Just as Rhemi digs into her coin purse, her father stops her. “No, no. Do keep your money.” And digs into his vest. “A gentleman should always pay for a lady.”

But Agrippa stops him sticking out their hand and waving. “It’s on the house.”

“Really? You won’t get into trouble will you, Ippa?”

“Nahhhh~ Besides, gods know you and your friends keep this place in business!” They laugh.

“Thank you so much!” She says with a big happy smile then looks to her father expecting him to say thank you as well.

He blinks blankly, for a moment then opens his mouth with a click of his tongue. “Oh—Yes… ah, thank you, Agrippa… Although if you're giving this away for free... I’m not sure if I should be concerned or not.... could this be a poorer batch you messed up on?”

Rhemi laughs thinking he’s joking, and Agrippa joins in to not make things awkward, but knowing that he wasn’t kidding.

“Well we’ll get out of your hair before the weekend rush comes! See ya later, Ippa! Tell Selasi I said hello!”

“See ya!” Agrippa says with a smile as the two head out the door hiding a middle finger behind their back as they glare at the Archmagister and his unnecessary dickish comment.

As soon as they leave the bakery and walk around the market, Rhemi digs into her hot pumpkin bread. “Mmmmm! Sooooo goood.” She happily moans, tearing up the moist and tasty bread; but as she looks over to her father, he hasn’t even touched his food.

“Smmthin’ woong?” She asks covering her mouth, her voice muffled with bread still in her mouth.

The Archmagister just shrugs, taking a very small piece and forcing it down his throat. “....Hmmmm.”

“I’m sorry, do you not like pumpkin bread? I should have asked—”

“Oh no, it’s just…. I don’t take handouts.” Martin replies, his face stone cold and serious.

“Hand out?” She blurts out. “It’s a gift! Ippa was being nice.”

“Well… whatever you call it. I don’t take gifts unless I know what people want…” He says with a sneer. Rhemi’s happy smile then drops into a frown and Martin starts to feel an unfamiliar pull in his heart as he nearly tosses the bread to the ground for the birds to eat. “...I ah…. I also don’t care for pastries for breakfast.” He says adjusting his tone while wrapping up the pumpkin bread into the parchment paper and handing it to his daughter. “... Nor do I typically have breakfast now that I mention it. Perhaps you’ll save it for later.”

“O—Okay. Thank you. I’m sorry you don’t like it.”

“Not your fault, Pigeon. I don’t expect you to know everything.” He reassures her. “Well where else in this pathe—I mean… petite city of yours are you going to show me?”

With a determined grin, Rhemi takes a deep breath knowing another place to go to.

“Follow me!”

——————————

As Rhemi shows Sir Martin around the city, the Temple district, the Heart, South end, and even the now newly rebuilt shopping district (previously known as the flooded district). But still, Rhemi couldn’t shake the agonizing feeling like the Archmagister was rather unimpressed with everything she threw at him. Even after all the renovations completed in the past year—Even when Rhemi told her father the story about the Devil converging with the ex-count—The battles with Lucio and his mercenary-ghost army— The competition to keep the world out of chaos.

Nothing—truly, nothing seems to impress him at all.

He still sneered, and scowled at the city, like he made up his own mind about it long long ago. Strangely, when the two were traveling around, it seemed like her father was familiar with the streets. He even knew many of the alleyways and short cuts that she didn’t even know about. But that hardly seemed to matter to Rhemi— the man wasn’t impressed with her beloved home… and she wanted to change that.

Persistently, she continued to show him Vesuvia, gushing her heart out, and even showed him the best places to eat and shop. Yet still, all her attempts to impress himself still left him with a sour expression on his face or a yawn.

As noon slowly approaches, Rhemi works back their way back to the palace. Feeling the morning wearing her down they approach the city center next to the large fountain where an old tacky statue of Lucio on a horse used to be. Now it’s only a lone cheetah holding a spear. For once. the Archmagistor seemed to have noticed it and stopped staring at this slightly perplexed.

“Say, Mileia…” (Another pet name for her apparently.) “...... Didn’t that used to be a gold statue of the Count riding a horse?”

Rhemi peers over to the top of the roaring fountain. “Oh yeah…. that was destroyed when Lucio attacked the city a year ago.”

Suddenly, the tangy scent of freshly smoked eel engulfs the plaza. She wasn't the only one who noticed either. Martin's teal eyes light up as if he sees an old long lost friend.

“Fresh eel!! Come and get your fresh eel heeeerreeeee!!!” The stand keeper shouts waving the delicious food in the air for everyone to see and smell.

Without another word, Rhemi hurries over with her coin purse before her father could stop her. “I’ll take two, please.”

The cheery venter takes her coins and gives her two kabobs. With food in hand, she runs back over to her father, she gives him one eel with a joyful smile. “This is a gift from your daughter. Not a hand out.” Half expecting him to refuse it, he surprisingly takes the food then stares at it almost nostalgically sniffing the tasty treat.

“What’s the matter?” She finally asks, stopping herself from shoving the food down her throat.

“Hmm??” Martin shakes his head, but still stares at the kabob oddly. “Oh, nothing… I just haven't had a smoked eel in a very long time.”

“Oh! I didn’t know you had it in Charles too.”

He gives her a small annoyed glance from her mispronunciation. “It’s Charlès, darling…. And we don’t. The capital doesn’t have any seas or ocean around it. It’s surrounded by treacherous mountains. The only fish we have is salmon, bass, and trout from the icy rivers...”

“O.. oh… So… where have you had it before?”

“I….—” Martin sharply stops himself and his eyes grow colder again and he seems to shake himself out of his nostalgic trace. “... M-my father, your grandfather, Remington II used to bring me and my siblings some when he traveled to the coast. He placed a spell on them so they wouldn’t spoil.”

“Oh… Neat!” Rhemi says with a smile. So far he’s mentioned her grandparents once the day before. Apparently that's where she gets her dark reddish-brown hair from her grandmother.

Unable to resist the sweet, salty smoky flavor, he actually takes a bite out of the eel and seems to rather enjoy it. “Still even tastes the same…” He chuckles before scarfing the eel down.

Finally. Something he likes. Feeling a bit accomplished she feels the tension in her shoulders relax. This man wasn’t like any of her friends. Gods know he was much harder to read as well. It’s like he has this invisible wall around himself. Trying to get to know him was proving to be difficult. But Rhemi liked a challenge and wasn’t one to give up easily.

“So, I suppose they had a reason why did they replace Luico with this… cheetah?” Her father asks after making it half through his eel looking at the piece of art of the new fountain.

“Lucio nearly tore this city and the world apart… He killed a lot of people to gain power. People that Muriel and I really cared about… He even killed his father years ago. Then killed his own mother in the Scourge Lands… Her name was Morga…” With sad somber expression, she stares up at the bronze sculpture and all its power and beauty. “If it wasn’t for Morga… I don’t think we’d be here right now… Muriel and I probably wouldn’t have gone to the south together… Lucio might have even won.”

“.... So I presume that cheetah is supposed to represent her?”

Sadly, Rhemi slowly nods her head, still gazing at the fountain statue.

“Interesting…. Excuse me for slightly changing the subject… but you mentioned that Lucio became merged with the…. devil? From the Arcana realm?”

Taken a little by surprise, she glances over to her father realizing that he did in fact listen to her earlier while she was showing him the other parts of the city. “Yeah… I’m not sure exactly how. But I think he made a lot of deals with various demons— I mean that literally…. And like I said… kill a lot of people... including his own mother.”

“... Just so he could live forever?”

“.... I think it was for power and to live forever??... Or it was so he could regain a physical form…. or maybe he wanted to dominate the world too—Or that was the devil influencing him? I honestly have no idea. And if you ask me, it was too heavy of a price to pay. The Arcana realms must be occupied by someone… if not, our world is thrown into chaos and ruin. In the end, he was forced back.”

“Hmmm…”

After making quick work of his eel, Martin throws the bare stick into the water of the fountain. Poor Rhemi’s eyes widen in silent dismay and hastily fishes it out with her magic when he isn’t looking. She’d have half a mind to tell him not to litter… But it didn’t feel like the time or place to lecture her own father.

“It is strange to hear about a dead man coming back to life… When rumors came that Count Lucio of Vesuvia was murder in his own bed, it came to many courtiers a shock. Even the king was appalled….Personally, I always saw him as a bumbling fool.”

“So you've been here before?”

“A handful of times, yes.”

“And you knew the ex-Count?”

“Unfortunately. King Francis rather enjoyed his company much to my dismay….. His Majesty thought he was and I quote, ‘The best kind of host, charmingly idiotic and stupidly generous’.... He did know how to throw some entertaining parties, I suppose. So the King seemed to have taken a liking to him… but I never cared for him.”

“Good!! He was a freakin’ asshole is what he was.” Rhemi snarly adds before taking the last bite of her smoked eel, stewing on all the things he’s done to everyone, especially Muriel. “That stupid humanoid-goat could go fuck himself in the devil’s realm for all of eternity for all I care! Good riddance!” She sneers under her breath.

With an shocked and appalled expression, Martin glances at her mildly scolding. “Well, that’s some colorful language for a lady such as yourself.”

Pssssh! I’m no lady… She laughs to herself and she pulls on her lips to stop from spilling them out. “... So you disagree with me?” She asks with a smirk and an eyebrow raised, throwing the two bare sticks into a nearby rubbish bin, still chewing a half mouth full of eel.

Despite his distaste for her language, he’s unable to control his snickering. For now he lets it go and he shrugs. “I never said that.” Martin chuckles. “.. You are right in that regard... that man was an encompident ass.”

“—Miss Rhemi!!!” A childish voice all of a sudden calls from a far.

Rhemi and Sir Martin whip their heads around to where the young voice was calling from. Low and behold, they see three children all under the ages of twelve barreling towards them, the youngest in full sprint. Really at second look, it looks like the other two were chasing after the younger one.

“Hold onto your coin purse, Rhemielia.” Martin whispers with a vicious sneer, standing in front of her with his cane at the ready.

“Huh?” She mumbles looking over his shoulder, not getting a few view of the children.

As soon as her voice escapes from her lips, Rhemi can sense her father conjuring his magic into the jeweled handle of his cane. The gem starts to glow brightly giving off a sort of metallic smelling aura... He is conjuring a spell?? To use on these kids???

Now getting a full glimpse over her father’s shoulder, she realizes she knows the children running up to them both and a large bead of sweat forms on her brow unsure what her father was intending to do.As soon as Martin brings up his cane to let loose the spell, she gently places her hand on the top of his jeweled handle, scooting him out of the way and forcing him to set down his weapon.

“—Ohhh! Lilly! Zachary! Nathan! How are you silly kids??” She says with a ginger smile. Martin face twists as he realizes that she knows these little peasants, but he keeps quiet, observing her as the three snot nosed brats approach them, two boys and one girl.

Rhemi kneels down and the children all embrace her with a tight hug nearly knocking her over to the cobble street. “Rhemiiiiii!!!”

“Sorry! I couldn’t stop him.” The girl apologized.

“That’s alright! Well—Hello, hello, and hello! What are you three rascals doing here?” Rhemi greets cheerily.

“Getting some eggs.” The young girl says lifting up an empty basket. She was the tallest and the oldest. If you couldn’t immediately, she was the responsible one in the trio, the ‘mother hen’ of the group. Her hair was a bright blonde with tight curls styled in two puffy pigtails. Her skin is a beautiful dark black, like a fresh brewed coffee, and eyes a bright hazel.

“Where’s Mr. Tall Man today?” The youngest boy asks looking all around making his wild and curly brown toffee colored hair, bounce all around. He has pale ivory skin with flecks everywhere, and dark brown eyes, and couldn’t be no older than six or seven, about one of Muriel’s cousins named Ida’s age, and just as cute. However he wasn’t the faintest bit shy like Ida is.

“Oh—I’m sorry, Nathan. Muriel isn’t with me today. He’s busy doing other errands.” Rhemi answers him tilting her head feeling rather guilty.

“Awwww.” The little boy whines looking at the ground disappointedly, holding the eldest child and the girl's hand and pouts. “I wanted to show him my newt. I found him in a pond.” He opens his pocket and out comes a little sticking looking bright orange creature with various sized brown and gray spots covering his head to his tail (freckles, just like Nathan).

Martin makes a revolted little noise and looks away for a moment, a hard sneer twisting his features, Rhemi doesn’t see him cringing behind. To his surprise, his daughter isn’t disgusted or afraid at all, she actually seems to think it’s cute, and pets his little head with her pointer finger. “Ooooh~ What’s their name, Nathan?”

“Wart! He’s a boy newt.” He says as he turns his neck and sticks his tongue out at Lillian and she just shakes her head, with a long-suffering look on her face.

“Well isn’t he just lovely. He has a wonderful color, orange is one of my favorite colors. I’ll be sure to tell Mr. Muriel about him! I’m sure he’d love to see him.” Her eyes glance behind to her father, still looking rather prudish and she smiles realizing she hadn’t introduced anyone yet. “OH! Right!…. Sooo, everyone, this is my father, his name is Sir Remington Martin Alarie III. He’s a King’s magician.”

The young girl lets out a shallow quick gasp as she looks up at Martin and he half turns his nose up at her. “I didn’t know you had a father.” She whispers to Rhemim shielding her mouth with her hand.

Rhemi plays along and whispers back the same way, “Neither did I… We just met yesterday.”

Little Nathan clings onto the Archmagister’s pant leg and Martin furrows his brow and somehow manages to frown even more. “You’re a neat magician too, like Miss Rhemi, Mister??”

Martin rolls his eyes scoffs. “....What gave that away? The cape or the cane, Oh-Child with a newt named ‘Wart’ ?” He sassily remarks, slowly unhinged the child’s arms off his leg.

Realizing that her father was confused about how she knew these children, she stands up and loops her arm around his. “Père, these are some children that were on the streets before the battle with Lucio…” Rhemi then points to each of the kids one at a time. “This is Lillian, Lilly for short. That strapping young lad is Zachary. And last but not least, little Nathan.”

The youngest child excitedly waves his hand at the old grumpy magician adorably despite Martin's lack of caring. “You look like a fancy magician!!” Nathan giggles cutely, finally letting go of the Archmagister’s leg.

“..... Mmmmm hmmmm….” The old gentleman grumbles. “... Nathan… was it??” The boy nods his head not noticing the nobleman’s disgust as he continues to sluggishly push him away, now gently using the butt end of his cane. “Pleasure to make your…. acquaintance…” He mutters trying to sound kind as he quickly brushes off his pant leg he touched.

Zachary, the older boy, notices the man’s dislike for Nathan touching him and stares at him shamelessly and the two start to have a silent scowling staring contest all unbeknownst to Rhemi who is still looking away. But Lilly catches and just stands there shaking her head unimpressed with either of them.

But then Nathan just rambled on adorably blabbing and now clinging onto Rhemi’s right leg and she ruffles his messy hair untamed hair that she admired. “Miss Rhemi and Mr. Muriel and Ms. Countess lady and—*achoo*—and all of her other friends helped made us all a home.”

A little bit of pink quickly stains Rhemi’s face as her father's eyes fall on her. “Well it was all Muriel, Asra, and Nadia’s idea to build an orphanage. All I did was help.”

“The Countess lady comes and reads to us eeeevery Wednesdays.” Nathan continues to rant. “And—And Miss Rhemi and Mr. Muriel comes by and sometimes they bring us arts n’ crafts and-and-and teach us magic!!”

“Is that so?” Marin fakely smiles. “Magic is so freely taught here I see…”

“Yeah! We each have our own beds! Mr. Muriel helped make them for us!”

“—And get three square meals a day. We don’t have to fight or steal food anymore….” Zachary finally chims in, scratching the back of his head. “Which is…. okay I guess…” His skin is olive-ish brown and his hair is a dark umber color, but has bright crystal blueish gray eyes that stand out.

Zachary was always normally very quiet. He used to be a part of a group of kids that were terrible bullies and even thugs. But ever since he saw Muriel, a hero and champion to the city, who was an orphan who grew up on the docks just like him, something changed in him. Perhaps knowing that someone like him could be a hero someday, strong and brave, he left that life behind and started a fresh path at the orphanage. He was still very young, no older than eleven, but really looked up to Muriel and Rhemi and saw them both as his role models. Even now, he tries to act all tough and aloof, but he’s really a little sweetheart and cared about the orphanage as much as the other two did.

“Well isn’t that ….nice.” Martin says with a bit of surprise in his face glancing at Rhemi. “Very appropriate for a young lady such as yourself to get involved in.”

“How’s Mrs. Edilen doing??” Rhemi asks, turning her attention back to the children.

“Old…” Zachary mutters blankly. Without warning, Lilly smacks him across the back of his head with such a scoldingly look on her face. “—OW! WHAAAAT??” He grumbles just above a whisper, his bright eyes angrily beaming at her as he holds his head.

“Shut your mouth, Zach!!! That woman is good to us and you know it!” Lilly snaps before answering Rhemi. “She’s fine, but her back has been bothering her lately.”

Lillian has been the little mother figure for these kids at the orphanage. She was always scolding and ensuring everyone minded their manners even though she was half their strength. You could tell she was in charge, but she was a very good kid with a heart of gold. She reminds Rhemi of herself in a way.

Rhemi stifles a laugh to spare poor Zachary’s pride and just continues with the conversation. “She’s actually coming by later for her potion, I hope that’ll help her.”

“Me too, I guess….” Zachary grumbles with his arms folded. “I’m sick of reading bedtime stories to the younger kids...”

“Oh stop acting like you don’t like it! You’re the one who does it without anyone asking you too!” Lilly rolls her eyes.

“...T—They whine if I don’t!” He quickly retaliates, blushing crazily.

Lilly just stares at him with a knowing smirk. “Oh yeah, I’m sure they whine when you don’t do the voices either!” She teases.

Poor Zachary’s face looks like it's going to explode and he gently shoves her, covering his burning face with the neck of his shirt like a turtle. “Shut. Up. LILLIAN!!” He grouches, words muffled by his shirt.

Kneeling back down with a giggle, Rhemi can’t help but love to see these two banter like they do. I can see these two getting married in ten years. She thinks to herself. “Well, I better get going, kiddos. I’m showing my father around the city and are expected for tea.”

In unison all of the kids sink their shoulders disappointedly.

“Are you both gonna come to see us soon?” Nathan asks with the biggest puppy dog eyes, holding onto her shaw.

“Awwwww!! Of course we will! It’s just all this wedding has just been keeping us busy. But I promise Muriel and I will come soon. Ok?”

All three kids excitedly say, hooray in unison and give her one last group hug before they all head on their merry way, waving her goodbye as they’d end towards the market.

“Bye, Fancy Mister Magician Man!” Nathan calls with a big goofy smile while holding onto Lilly’s hand.

As the kids wander off, Martin just looks at Rhemi with such fondness as he takes a seat next to the water fountain ledge.

“What?” Rhemi asks with a grin.

Martin just shakes his head with a chuckle. “You’re just like your mother….. even just now… you are just the spit of her… She loved working with children. She wanted to become a governess before she met me.”

Rhemi smiles a little wider and sits next to her father on the fountain’s edge. “.... I wish I could remember her face….”

The water fountain behind the two keeps endlessly roaring with the water and the two sit then content for a moment, watching as people go by, happy to take a seat for the time being. As they both sit there enjoying the warmth of the sun, Rhemi’s mind wanders to yesterday to her unanswered questions the other day. It kills her to want to know, but it’s terrifying to ask.

Finally, she swallows her fears, and tightens her fists as she summons the courage. “....Père?”

“Yes, my Pigeon?”

“I… I wanted to ask you this yesterday, but it didn’t necessarily come up in the conversation… But…. ummm… What exactly….. happened?....” Her father's smile fades as soon as she utters that question, and he turns his head away from her. His reaction just makes her want to know even more. “...W-Why hadn’t I seen you for so many years?”

Martin’s cold eyes shimmer with a glimpse of pain with that question and swallows hard. “..... I…. I think that's for another day, dear child…”

She sits there for a moment, considering to let it go, but her mouth moves before she can really stop herself. “…. Could… could you at least tell me something? P-Perhaps? It’s been killing me to know what happened….”

Martin still keeps his eyes averts from hers, hoping she’d stop being so persistent.

“... If I could remember any of it myself, I wouldn’t have asked.” She adds sheepishly twiddling with thumbs in her lap.

The old magician stews on her words for a while, still very hesitant to speak of what happened and she thinks he’ll just ignore her plea. But then he sighs very deeply before muttering unenthusiastically, “.... Very well….”

Taking out a pipe out of his vest pocket along with a little tobacco from a fancy tiny metal tin. Conjuring his magic to his finger, he lights up the pipe, and takes in three short puffs followed by one big one. Pondering his words, he holds it in his mouth peering at the crowd, then finally blows out all the smelly smoke slowly. “...You and your mother…. were stolen from me around fifteen years ago.”

Rhemi quickly whips her head towards him with her eyes wide, staring at her father completely dumbfounded.

S-Stolen? She shouts to herself in her mind, her poor heart starting to beat a little faster by the second. By—by who?? What does this all mean??

He draws in another larger puff before continuing this obviously painful story, apparently being soothed by the tobacco. “You both were kidnapped.... By a terrible evil witch named Phara….”

Phara… he mentioned her before the other day. Why doesn’t that name sound familiar to me?? Why can’t I remember that name???

Squinting her eyes as if that would somehow help her remember as she follows with another question. “...W-Who was Phara? I don’t remember that name at all.”

“I was afraid of that. But I also could only assume that was the case as well.” He takes in a quick puff and nods solemnly before beginning again, bellowing out the smoke as he spoke.. “.....I ….I hired her to be your tutor. You were about…. ohhhh I believe it was seven or eight at the time?—It was shortly after I was promoted to head chamberlain to his Majesty's court and I became increasingly busy with my new duties. Anyways…. One day, you scared your governess half to death… She was teaching you handwriting. You apparently threw a tantrum and lit your parchment paper ablaze with your magic. According to some servants, she came out of the library screaming.”

Rhemi’s cheeks start to feel like they are burning, that sounds about right knowing herself and how angry she can get even now. Sometimes she still wants to destroy things now when she is pissed off…. Apparently some things never change.

“... And so...You needed to learn how to control your magic.” He continues, “... And mother suggested someone she grew up with.”

“.... Phara?” Rhemi knowingly asks, placing her hands on the cold marble stone she’s sitting on.

Martin nods slowly, waving his pipe around as he spoke. “Yes…. Phara….. She was a Throthian woman, a professor for some intellectuals. For a time, she taught foreign dukes, duchesses, and even a few princesses in Parka and she was highly regarded, even for a woman.”

Throthian… Now that sounds familiar… Where do I know that word from?

“... She even taught many commoners and the poor to read and write so they can make better lives for themselves… which didn’t make the king very happy…. But most importantly, she was also a witch. Apparently a skilled one at that, which is what you needed at the time. Your mother swore that she trusted this woman with her life, and that Phara was bound to secrecy and confidentiality.”

…. Wait—Secrecy??....Why secrecy??

He pauses for a second, and draws in another deep puff on his pipe, then lets it out. Quietly Rhemi covers her mouth and lightly coughs, the smell of the tobacco burning her lungs. “....Despite my better judgement—I felt at the time that we had no better alternative. So, I hired her to be your tutor. She didn’t know the basics of aristocratic life, such as playing classical music on the piano, needle point, edict, or anything like your previous governess, but she was what we desperately needed at the time… And I’ll admit she was much more intelligent. Years went by, your magic was under control and you were being properly educated…. or so I thought.”

“.... So you thought? What do you mean??”

“.... Well… it came to my attention that she was teaching you things no young girl of nobility should know.” He pauses once again and looks his daughter in the eyes very seriously and sincerely and Rhemi feels her heart tug down. “...Phara was teaching you terrible things... evil things, Rhemielia.”

Rhemi’s eyes fall down to the cobblestone street as she tries to swallow all of this information. ….I… I was taught… evil things?... Perhaps that’s why I didn’t bat an eyelash at the blood magic, yet Muriel was so bothered by it…. am I… evil at heart?? Rhemi wonders to herself, her heart tugging even more. Is that why I was such a jerk before I died?

“.... One night about a week after your twelfth birthday.... I came home a day early after going on a diplomatic trip with the king. I was bringing you a late birthday present… But to my surprise, no one greeted me at the gates, nor the door. Soon I realized that all the servants were gone, the chateau was dark and empty and something sinister was afoot.” Rhemi’s nails started to dig into her thighs unconsciously as she hung onto every word… This part was starting to sound almost familiar. “.... I made my way to the parlor, and I saw Phara shoving you and your poor mother out the veranda and was planning on throwing you both out off the balcony for god knows what reason.”

Rhemi swallows the lump in her throat hearing all of this for some reason its starting to feel a little more familiar. “.... We fought. It was her magic against mine…. Soon, the fourier was in shambles, the furniture and decor littered the floor, and I had her nearly beat… Then the next thing I see out of the corner of my eye that your poor little head was cracked open…. You were bleeding everywhere, barely standing straight in the corner of the room...”

Vision starts to become dizzy, Rhemi closes her eyes to stop her head from spinning. But as soon as Rhemi closes her eyes, the short glimpse of her small childish hands trembling and covered in blood come into her mind. It’s too vivid to have been her imagination. Her right hand instinctively goes to her forehead to the right side of her frontal skull where there are two stubborn cowlicks that never grew much hair. She couldn’t part her hair any other way because of them. It’s only at this very moment she can feel a slight dip in her bone that she realizes why that hair never grew past an inch or two… it was a hidden scar, it was small, no bigger than an inch now, however it felt like it went rather deep.

A quick twinge of pain returns to Rhemi’s temples for a split second and she shuts her eyes yet again and stifles her groan. Flames of the burning mansion in her dreams illuminates behind her eyelids—the other Rhemi, the dying phoenix, faint muffled screams and yells they all start to rush into her mind and ears, making her almost sick to her stomach. Focusing on her breathing, she diverts her thought away from her nausea not wanting to see the eel or pumpkin bread a second time. She dare not make a scene in the middle of the city and she stays silent, quietly suffering as her father continues on.

“I… I underestimated that witch, she was more craftier than I had originally thought. Somehow I found myself with a knife in my back. You were just standing there, looking paler by the second… So I ignored my pain and staggered straight over to you. I knew you needed a healer immediately with the amount of blood you were losing and—” Martin stops mid word, you can hear him choking back some tears with his voice cracking. “... I reached out to save you…. to pull you into my arms—but….” He softly trails off.

Rhemi closes her eyes again, and for a moment, she sees a large eerie hand slowly coming at her from the dark—As she opens her eyes it disappears once again.

In the corner of eyes, she can see as Martin pulls off his right leather glove for the first time, and she notices that he pulls up part of his long sleeve of his fancy shirt. Underneath them both hid a terrible looking old burn that started from the top of this hand, ran up his forearm, and wrapped all around his bicep. It was awful to look at, it must have been so incredibly painful. “... Phara proved to be craftier than I expected… she always was… I just wish I saw it sooner… That damn witch used the last bit of her magic to start a terrible fire, even put you in harm's way to do it.”

The fire…. Is that what the other me was trying to tell me about? The fire?? Is Phara that monster?.... I don’t know if I still want to know...

The nausea and dizziness subsiding as quickly as it came, she stared at her poor father’s arm a burning in her nose. “I’m…. I’m so sorry, Père.” She softly says with tears in her eyes as she gazes at the terrible scar seared into her father’s flesh. “Does it still hurt?”

“You mean…. This old scar?” He scowls with an eyebrow raised, appearing a bit puzzled.

Rhemi nods sheepishly, her large eyes beaming with such a somber empathetic expression.

Seeing this sincere look, he’s face softens and he even gives her a reassuring grin and shakes his head. “No… Not anymore, Pigeon.”

Gently she touches it with the tips of her fingers inspecting the shriveled tough pinkish skin. “Did you have a doctor's help? It looks like it healed rather well.”

“I did actually…” The Archmagister holds up his arm, opening and closing his fist, wiggles his fingers, and flexes his elbow to show that his range of motion was at least spared “... The doctors and healers had to use some unconventional methods to salvage all of my fingers and I regained feeling in my forearm… And it took quite a while to recover from all of it—I even had to learn how to write with my left hand... But honestly, I hardly remember it.”

He stops flexing his arm and hand and gently rests it back on top of his leg with the palm up. “... All the while I was healing, I was focused on finding you and your mother. I put a very high bounty on Phara’s head along with countless posters, fliers, and I sent letters to neighboring kingdoms everywhere. I hired men and the best bounty hunters all over the country to comb cities to the countryside in Charlès for you and your mother… But then, weeks turned into months, months into years, years into over a decade. Everyone all but gave up, the story of the Archmagister’s kidnapped wife and daughter became all but a tragic distant memory.... To some, it twisted into a bedtime story. About a demon witch who came in the night who lured beautiful mothers and their poor children out of their homes in the dead of night during the witching hour. The witch would kill them and drain all of their blood so she could bathe in it to restore her youth and power. Then she’d chopped the bodies all up into tiny pieces and cooked their flesh into a stew, serving it to the unsuspecting poor.”

Martin draws back his arm, rolling down his sleeve, donning his leather glove yet again. “But only few knew the truth.”

“That must have been just terrible for you…. You must have been so lonely.” Rhemi finally utters after sitting there quietly.

“... I never released how empty a house felt without you both in it.” He mumbles looking away into the crowd. He shrinks into himself as soon as those words leave his mouth as if he didn’t mean to admit that. But Rhemi could tell, that came directly from his heart.

Martin suddenly clears his throat quickly slicking back his hair, shaking himself out his thoughts and glances at his pocket watch. “Oh would you look at that. It’s nearly time for tea.” He straightens up and lightly pats her head and she tries her best to stop herself from sneering to be polite. “Come on then. Let’s get a move on, don’t want to be tardy now, do we?” He says standing to his feet and shaking out his cape.

“N-no… No we don’t.” Rhemi answers, sluggishly standing her feet as well brushing out the wrinkles in her shirt.

———————

The walk back to the palace was a bit more quiet, but Rhemi and Martin now seem to be comfortable with it and just enjoy each other’s company in comfortable silence. She’s somewhat used to it being with Muriel.

As the two made it back to the Palace, they were greeted by a handful of Nadia’s servants and an older man in dark green and blue that her father called Bartholomew. He must have been his servant; his uniform and disposition was very different from anyone else.

Judging from the lack of people around, Rhemi and Martin apparently had arrived a bit early and were both left in the common room for the Countess’ arrival. Bartholomew whispered a few things to Martin’s ear before very elegantly leaving the room.

Suddenly, Beatrix comes scurrying around the corner making a few of Nadia’s servants comically shriek in surprise. The grumpy badger quickly prances over to Martin and climbs up her over the armchair close by, then on to his shoulders.

“Making yourself a nuisance yet again I see, Beatrix.” Martin teases her and she chatters back.

“Good afternoon, Bea~.” Rhemi says with a smile as she puts her hand up to her to sniff. Surprisingly, the animal lets her scratch under her chin after giving her a few pumpkin seeds from her pocket. It’s unclear if she likes Rhemi or if she just likes the food she gives her. Either way, Rhemi likes her. She’s cute in a scruffy kind of way.

“Pardon me.” Says Pascal, a servant who took over Portia’s position after she was appointed to Chamberlain comes in with a bow. “The Countess wanted me to inform you both that she will be arriving shortly. In the meantime, please make yourself comfortable.”

A sharp scoff ejects out of Martin’s mouth. “Of course she’s going to make us wait….” He grumbles, and Beatrix growls a little at the poor servant showing her teeth. “I was invited into her own palace, haven’t seen the damn woman since I arrived and now she’s gonna make us wait?”

“My apologies, Sir Martin… She’s just returning from a Heart District reconstruction meeting.”

Rhemi steps in front of her father and before he could mutter another word and feeds his badger another pumpkin seed and she ceases her aggressive noises. “Thank you, Pascal. How’s your father doing?”

The servant smiles sincerely and cups his hands together. “Oh, great after that sleeping remedy you gave him!”

“Good! Any more chronic night terrors about jellyfish?”

Pascal laughs as she mentions that and Martin has a perplexed scowl on his face looking towards his familiar as if she knew the answer to that. “No! None since Muriel gave him that dream catcher over his bed. My family can’t thank you both enough for that.”

“Ooooh please, it was nothing! I’m just glad to hear he’s doing better—”

Martin stands in front of his daughter before she can finish her sentence. “—Yes, yes. That’s very nice indeed. Now if you wouldn’t mind...” The Archmagister says, shamelessly shooing the poor thing away, waving his cane guestering towards the door. “I’m sure your Countess would like you to return to her without dallying.”

Rather taken off guard by his rudeness, Pascal blinks blankly for a moment before bowing out and leaving the room. “Y-yes, your Excellency.”

Just as shocked as Pascal, Rhemi shakes her head staring at the back of her father’s head. Finally she taps on his back and her father turns to face her. “... You could have been nicer…” She mumbles to him a bit pouting.

He sighs, then pinches the bridge of his nose. “You really shouldn’t make chummy conversation with the servants, Rhemielia… It’s distasteful.”

The Archmagister walks around Rhemi towards the other side of the room to a small table by the fireplace, Rhemi’s eyes following him. “..... But I like Pascal—”

“—Well, Rhemielia, how about we play a game of chess to pass the time?” He says rather jollily (for him) gesturing towards the small table where the game is set up.

“Chess?..” She repeats him tilting her head. She can’t remember the last time she ever played the damn game and she sheepishly scratches the back of her head. “...Oh… I don’t really like playing. I don’t think I remember all the rules anyw—”

“Very well. I’ll teach you the rules again.” He replied, taking a seat next to the white pieces and setting his cane on the outside of the chair. “... We used to play when you were younger. If I remember correctly, you were getting quite good too, but never could quite beat me.”

“S-... Sure… why not?..” Rhemi reluctantly gives in, taking a seat behind the black pieces in the armchair.

Quickly, but thoroughly, her father explains the basic rules, and part of it is starting to come back to her as she stares at the pieces a bit longer.

“Any questions?” He finally asks as he pets Beatrix and she leans into his touch.

The apprentice gazes at all the pieces studying them carefully. Rook, king, queen, bishop, knight and….. and…. hhhhmmm…

Forgetfully, she points to the smaller pieces in the front. “These small ones… they're called, pawns or fawns?”

“Pawns. You were right the first time….. Are you starting to remember the rules, my little Pigeon?”

“Maybe?... It all sounds rather familiar.” Her finger gently grazes the top of the small cold piece and she has a sad frown. “I think I remember how.... I didn’t like how people treat these little pieces.”

“What?” He softly scoffs, an entertained grin growing on his lips. “Whatever do you mean?”

“Well….. T-These pieces represent people don’t they? This is a strategy game…. To represent a war or battle.”

Baffled at that assessment, Martin gazes back at the marble pieces and shrugs. “I…. I suppose you are correct in that regard… what is your point, child?”

Rhemi looks back down finding the right words to explain how she felt. “In this game… pawns are dispensable, their movements are limited, unlike the other pieces behind them. But because there are more of them, they are more expendable than the other taller pieces.” She pauses as she looks as she picks up one of the pawns with a few chips and cracks in it, reminding her of her poor Muriel for some reason and the way Lucio used him for so many years for his own entertainment. “People really shouldn’t treat others like that. Some…. object that can be used and taken out with little to no consequences. They are just some game piece to them, not another person…”

Martin stops himself from mid sputter trying his best not to laugh out loud. “Well…. now your spouting off nonsense.” He mumbles as he leans his back into the lounge chair, crossing his legs and resting his hand on his temple. “... This is just a game after all—”

“—I would happily agree with you, Rhemi.” Nadia’s silky smoothe voice interrupts and Martin and Rhemi stand quickly to their feet slightly taken by surprise. Stunning and beautiful as always, she strolls into the room, her heels clicking the floor, dressed in her white and green outfit and her hair half up and half down. Pascal trailing behind her with a grin on his face. “... If you think about it that way, the game is rather horrible that some pieces are labeled as not being as important as others. But in reality, the good leader should acknowledge that all of the pieces are important, no matter how small or limited they are.”

Martin bows very traditionally and elegantly, Beatrix hanging off his shoulders looking lifeless. “... Countess.”

However Rhemi just casually rushes to Nadia and wraps her arms around her and he raises an eyebrow at her informalness and lack of edict or manners.

“It’s so good to see you! Thank you so much for lending me your tailor again!” Martin’s child so boldly and informally converses making him stunned for words.

The Countess just smiles and hugs her back with a bright smile. “Oh, the pleasure is all mine. I hope you don’t mind, but Pierre let me get a sneak peak of it.”

“Ohh! Really???” Rhemi’s cheeks get all flushed and hot once again and she cups her face with her hands. “W-What do you think of it??”

“Oh, it’s just lovely, Rhemi. Just perfect for you. I can not wait to see you in it—Or Muriel seeing you in it for that matter.”

“Ooooo!! Realllly???? Thank you, Nadia!”

Suddenly, Martin clears his throat rather loudly, cutting through the two’s giddy laughter. “Countess Satrinava.”

The countess's eyes suddenly darken hearing the Archmagister’s voice and she forced back on a smile. “Ah yes… Monsieur Martin.” He approaches her with his chest puff out and she returns a polite curtsy. She then extends her hand out and he kisses to top of her knuckles, very diplomatic and traditional like. “...It has been ages, I haven't seen you since King Francis’ Spring ball six years ago… How have you been?” The Countess asks, fakely attempting to be interested.

“Quiet fine, thank you for asking.” Martin smirks back with a devious look. “... However I do fear that you haven’t been receiving my letters because I haven't gotten any back over the years. In fact, I have been around your city this morning, no flyers have been posted either.”

Nadia’s shoulder slightly tenses as if she knew and dreaded what he was about to say. Yet, she keeps a calm and composed face. “I do owe you my apologies. I have had other obligations this past year….. just a small war to save the world and clean up my city after pure evil attempted to rule our realm….”

“Ahhh…. yes… so I’ve heard... Most understandable. Things such as that are to be expected when a woman is in a position such as yourself… You really shouldn’t be so harsh on yourself, Nadia.”

“And what position would that be, Sir Martin?” Nadia remains poised and collected, but Rhemi could tell, she was getting irritated.

Martin smirks while placing both hands on his cane out in front of him. “One with great responsibility and little power, of course, Countess…. Ruling a city is a man’s job after all.”

An awkward tense silence takes hold for a moment and Nadia just flutters her eyes and fakely smiles a bit wider at his blunt rudeness. “... So nice to see you again, Archmagister. Do enjoy your stay.”

Eloquently, she turns her back to Martin tugging Rhemi along, giving her attention back to her champion, ignoring that rude and very sexist comment. “So, my dear champion. What brings you here? I do apologize for my tardiness. Especially when you had such ‘lovely’ company that also failed to show up for tea time yesterday.” She says that last part loud enough for him to hear.

“Well… ahhhhhh, we had tea scheduled for this afternoon—” Rhemi replies awkwardly.

The Countess shakes her head, instantly remembering. “Oh! Yes of course! How could I forget, I have sandwiches, biscuits, and tea being made as we speak—Oh, and your favorite~”

“Oooo—Agrippa’s strawberry lemon cake???” Rhemi says wiggling her hips excitedly.

Nadia nods with a bright smile, laughing at Rhemi’s pure overjoyed expression. “Portia was so kind to pick it up. Her and her brother should be here any minute, won’t they? Shall we have it on the balcony? It’s a lovely day.” She says looping her arm around Rhemi’s.

“Yes, but, ahhhh….” Suddenly, the apprentice stops her feet and politely pulls away. “Actually, I, ah, wanted to introduce someone to you, but I gather you’ve already met.”

Nadia interlaces her fingers together and rests her hands in front of her, wearing a rather confused expression. “...Oh?”

Her eyes follow Rhemi as she walks back over to Martin and loops her arm through his. “Nadia…. Sir Martin is my father….”

Nadia’s eyes widen, completely shocked. “Your…. father…?”

The Archmagister smiles at her with his nose high and stares at her condescendingly. “Ah yes…. Without any of your help I ended up finding my daughter myself—-But to my pleasant surprise she was alive. And in your city no doubt. What are the odds of the place that refused to comply with posting my wanted posters was the exact place where I found her.”

“Your…. His daughter?? The child who was stolen by an evil witch?”

Rhemi’s face suddenly flushes. Even Nadia knew about me?

“I…. I guess so.” She shrugs slightly embarrassed.

Nadia can’t help but flutter her eyelashes, gazing speechlessly to her champion. Finally she opens her mouth and looks toward Martin with a bit of guilt. “But…. you’ve been looking for her for—”

“—For fifteen years, seven months, a week, two days, and seven hours…. Yes…” Martin interjects with a sour and slightly angry, yet smug expression. “... But who’s counting?”

With Nadia completely gobsmacked and silent, Rhemi mutters. “I was hoping it would be alright if I invited him for tea time with Julian and Portia, so he could get to know my friends….. U-Unless of course that’s rude—”

“—No! No. It’s quite alright.” Nadia says shaking out of her stupor. “... Besides this afternoon was for you anyways, this may be the last tea you have as a single woman.”

“Oh you’re right. Didn’t think about that!... But it's better to ask right?”

“Of course.” Nadia looks towards Pascal as nods to cue him to lead them all towards the balcony.

“If you would follow me…” Pascal quickly says before whipping around to escort them all to the balcony.

Nadia hangs back staring at Rhemi and Sir Martin as they link arms having a terrible feeling about all of this and her temples start to twinge with slight pain.

—————————————

As soon as Portia and Julian arrive Rhemi greets them with a loving hug, but they immediately notice Sir Martin and a look of horror and confusion strikes their face. They only remember this man from the other day. But Rhemi explains the situation and they change their attitude quickly, happy for their friend for being reunited with her long lost father.

The Devoraks do their very best to be kind and friendly to the Archmagister, evening apologizing for their behavior (even though they did nothing wrong). Julian introduces himself with a small bow as he reaches his hand to offer to shake it. But Sir Martin slightly turns his nose up at the commoner and waits a grueling amount of seconds before finally taking his hand with only saying almost sarcastically, “Charmed…”.

Portia bows as well, and even puts donns her diplomatic hat being a chamberlain herself now, in attempts to easily converse with him on a relatable level. But the old magician just smirks and quietly chuckles at her attempt to presume that her position, a chamberlain to a mere Countess was anything like being a head chamberlain and Archmagister to a very wealthy and powerful monarch. Nevertheless Martin does at least take her hand and kisses the top of her knuckles and even says, “How do you do.”

As all four sit down and get settled and the tea is being brought out and being poured. The inescapable tension was relentlessly building with the silence. A servant pours the Archmagister’s tea and sets down a plate of biscuits in front of him and he mutters in an irritated manner, “Please, do wear gloves, girl. I don’t want to see your revolting cracked hands when you're handling my food.”

The poor servant’s face turns red with humiliation and she hasilty hides them behind her back. “Y-yes Sir… My apologies, Sir Alarie.”

Baffled at his rudeness, Rhemi, Julain and Portia stay quiet and glance over to Nadia, who stares at the old foreign diplomat with her head gracefully tilted with a fake, yet amused grin. “Oh, and how do you suppose her hands became cracked in the first place, Sir Martin? My servants shouldn’t have to be ashamed that they work diligently for a living. For you to judge her for it all the while you have a silver spoon in your mouth… Well… Should I just say that is rather ignorant of you.”

It appears that Martin was about to retaliate with a snide comment back to her but Rhemi awkwardly fake coughs. “Thank you Claudia. It looks amazing. Please tell the chef thank you.”

Her interjection to smooth things over seemed to have shut her father up for now and the terrible silence takes hold yet again. Rhemi stirs her tea, making it the way she likes and tries her best to fight the flush warming up her face from her father’s behavior. A wave of dread washes over her as she takes a small sip and thinking perhaps she made a mistake introducing everyone to him like this today. It was rather sudden and last minute after all, and she didn’t expect him to act this way. In her mind, this would have been more like a fairy tale or a book, a long lost father reuniting with the heroine’s life at the end of the story and they all lived happily ever after… But then again…. this is reality, and fairy tales and books are in the end, just that. A story. Things don’t anyway go the way you want them to….

Finally, the Countess decides to make some small talk asking Portia about the reconstruction progress of the Temple district and the tension starts to finally subside a bit. Martin even engaged in the conversation at least with the parts about Charlès’ part in supplying raw materials such as iron, bronze, and steel. The conversation then went to Rhemi with the wedding planning, then to Julian and how his clinic was going…

“Things have been keeping me busy, that’s for sure! Lately it's been a lot of springtime cold, but nothing too serious…” Julian goes on taking a long sip of his tea.

“Mmmm. Interesting.” Martin attempts to engage in the conversation for his daughter’s sake. “Tell me Doctor, are you married?”

“No, actually…” But perhaps one day I’ll marry the person I love.”

“Hmmm I’m sure she’s just lovely…. Hope she doesn’t mind having many late nights by the sound of your business.”

“...Err... ’He’ actually.” Julian corrects him with a faint bit of red on his face with a love stuck expression.

But the old nobleman really chokes on his sip of tea and he bats his eyelashes, perplexed. “....Sorry?”

Julian’s left eye darts back and forth to him and Rhemi, shrugging his shoulders. “Ummm- Errr…. About-?”

“You correct me… And said...?”

“Yes….” Rhemi jumps in thinking her father just didn’t hear him right. “Ilya said ‘he’. Asra, the one you met yesterday. White-ish hair, also a magician. That’s Julian’s partner.”

A snide and almost vicious scowl contorts the man’s face. “.....So….. You are having relations…. withhhhhhhh….. another man?” Martin inquires further as he gives Beatrix a few berries.

“Yeeeeeeeeeeesss.” Julian replies, not understanding the issue here starting to furrow his brow as well.

“So you have a….. male… bbbbooooyfriend?”

Nadia whispers to her servant rather quietly, helpless to watch as this all unfolds in front of her. “... Pascal, do bring us a bottle of wine.”

“....Asra actually prefers to use the term partner.” Rhemi adds bring her tea to her lips. “He doesn’t identify with gender specific roles. He’s male leaning, but he’s non-binary.”

“Oh, good god…” Martin grumbles rubbing the bridge of his nose.

Before Pascal gets too far, Nadia tugs his sleeve, and whispers again with her nostrils flared. “Better make that two….”

The Archmagister catches a glimpse of his daughter's saddened face. He adjusts his sitting and swallows his opinions… badly. “I ah, see….” He takes a sip of his tea slowly swallowing it. “So….. Which, ah, which one of you takes it in the ass then?” He quickly adds, unable to help himself.

“PPPPPPFFFFT—” Rhemi slightly sputters in her cup at that, her eyes wide.

Portia nearly drops her teacup speechless at this comment. If this was in a tavern she’d have thrown his ass down by now. But her brother just smiles, calmly placing his tea cup down with a hard clank and leans in closer to the Archmagister. Despite his smug smile, it’s clear that he’s deeply offended. “Well…. I guess that depends on the night. Because we use a schedule. At least we don’t have something constantly shoved up our—”

BOOM!! CHATTER CHATTER!--

“—Ooooooookayyyyyy!!” Rhemi loudly interjects slamming down both of her hands on the table making everything rumble and shake as she nearly jumps to a stand.

“—Well, Nadia, it has been loads of fun, thank you so much for having us—but would you look at the time!” She quickly rants, pulling her father’s chair out then tugging his arm and pulling him out of his chair. “My father and I wanted to check out the library for a few things together, isn’t that right?” She says slightly gritting her teeth. “Didn’t we??”

“Oh… yes of course… If you would excuse us.” He begrudgingly complies with her lie and he bows to Nadia. “Countess…”

Nadia nods her head with a forced grin. “Archmagister….”

With that, Rhemi waves her friends ta-ta for now and nearly drags her father into the palace and straight to the library feeling so terrible for her friend right now.

As soon as they approach their destination silently, Rhemi opens the doors with a wave of her magic and nearly sprints in and shuts the doors behind her. For a moment, she presses her back against the double doors and sighs feeling relieved that she managed to escape that terrible scenario with one of her best friends and her father. A stone cold silence washes over the large room while Martin casually strolls about talking in the splendor of the stained glass windows. Unable to think of a way to tell her father what he had said was unacceptable, she continues to stay silently and decides to walk over to a mountain of books she was actually borrowing about Parka.

“So… that went well—” Martin murmurs and Beatrix jumps off his shoulders and sniffs the couches scouring for some old crumbs. “Well, I am sure you had a reason to carry me away from good tea—”

Martin turns to look at his daughter, but he realizes she's no longer behind him. “R-....Rhemielia?”

Rhemi awkwardly rushes up a ladder, rummages through some more books in the section she was in before, trying not to look at her father. She doesn’t mean to give him a cold shoulder, but she really thought tea would have gone better. How could he have asked such a rude and homophobic question to one of her dearest friends? She loves that Julian and Asra are together, they just make sense in an odd way. Now that she thought about it, Rhemi didn't remember the last time she heard anyone mock someone else’s sexuality. Here in Vesuvia, and in most places of the world for that matter, people are incredibly open-minded and don’t bat an eyelash when someone is attracted to the same sex or both—No one really cares! And neither should they. It’s no one else’s business honestly.

Martin notices her silence and he walks over to where she is. “Well, Pigeon. Your er-ummm.….choices in friends are…. well… rather curious—”

“—Heads-up.” Rhemi knowingly interrupts, throwing down a book and Martin catches after a little fumble with a bit of shock.

With the room quiet yet again, he stares at her as she tries to ignore him for a while. The only sound being made is Beatrix’s sniffing and his daughter flipping through the pages then places a book back on the shelf.

Martin lets out a sigh, as he conjures his magic into his hand, making the book levitate in the air so he didn’t have to hold it. Feeling a little annoyed at the moment, he straightens his cravat on his neck and begrudgingly asks. “.... Something on your mind, Rhemielia?”

Rhemi then kicks the ladder making the wheels roll a few feet away to hunt for a few books in a different section.

Her father following her at the end of the ladder. “Rhemielia?” He repeats.

Finally she huffs heavily heartedly and replies. “... Père, you don’t ask those questions to people.”

Martin just looks up at his child and scoffs with a half grin. “.... And why not?”

“W-Well…. It’s just… ahhh— well....” Rhemi fumbles over her words as she continues to skim through the books looking for that particular subject about genetics. “...Despite his openness, Ilya might not want to converse to a stranger about his intimacy… No one ask you about your sex life. You shouldn’t just make assumptions about his—or any of my friends for that matter.”

Martin fidgets in his spot, unable to remember the last time someone talked to him like this. “Perhaps not, but my sex life didn’t involve another man, Rhemielia…. Forgive me for being intolerant, but it’s just not natural and disgusting-.”

“Disgusting to you perhaps! And how is it not natural?” Rhemi quickly responds with her nose in another book. “... Most herd animals spend their time with other males except for breeding season and engage in sexual activities. Nope… already read this one.” She quietly mutters that last part to herself as she returns the dud book back.

Martin’s brow starts to furrow as he stifles the rage in the pit of his stomach with the thought of that. He can’t believe his only child is defending such behaviors. But he keeps his feelings buried, but just barely. “Humans aren’t filthy animals, Rhemielia…. at least most aren’t... And I really don’t believe a conversation about copulation with my long lost daughter is appropriate—”

“Too late—” She adds, handing him another heavy book, and he makes it float in the air as she slides down the ladder and faces him very boldly. “If that's the case, then isn’t wearing shoes, or undergarments, or overly fancy capes made from dead worm cocoons also deemed ‘unnatural’?.”

“Rhemielia, I really do think this highly distasteful topi—” Martin suddenly stops, eyes wide in bewilderment realizing what she had just said. “I-.... I’m sorry, did you just say, ‘dead worm…. cocoons’?”

“Yes.” She says with a very as-matter-of-fact look on her face.

Martin just stares at her, completely confused and looks down at his expensive garment. “Wha—??”

Instantly, Rhemi grabs one of her books her father is floating in the air and quickly flips through the pages. “Do-too-doo…. Silkworms, silkwoooorms… Ah! Yes—Right here.” Rhemi then takes a hold of her father’s fancy cape and shakes it with one hand while handing her father an open book with the other. “... ‘Silk is made from inorganic fibers that are made from creatures called ‘silkworms’. They’re found in places such as Parka and Nopal and other northern places. Silk is harvested by the cocoon that the silkworm makes. The worms are boiled alive while incubating in a said cocoon, then the thread is extracted so it can be woven into fabric.’..” She points to the left page as she turns around. “It’s all on page 194, paragraph eight.”

Rhemi then pulls out a spare biscuit and gives it to the poor hungry badger. The happy little animal takes it and scarfs it down, she even allows Rhemi to pet her gently on the head some more, no hint of aggression or mistrust.

Bewildered and with squinting eyes, Martin hastily skims the paragraph then tilts his head. “Hmmm… Well… that’s ah, fascinating?... I…. I suppose—However…. I believe I fail to understand what this has to do with anything, my little Pigeon...”

His daughter turns back around dropping her shoulders, the look in her eyes are almost hurt. He can’t help but admire how much she looks like her mother right now. “....Those people you meet today are my friends, Père. Really good ones in fact. I see now that Charlès must not be as…open minded?—Like the rest of the world. But these are my friends. Asra and Julian are in love and I really do think they belong together. So, please, at least for my sake, be nice to them...”

“A rather steep request to ask when your friends have such terrible lifestyle choices. I don’t agree with, I don’t understand how you—”

“—That isn’t a choice, Father.” She interrupts, collecting the books out of the air and placing them onto the table next to Beatrix still licking her little claws clean. “... And you don’t have to understand it in order to respect it.”

“..... Rrrrrrrrrespect it?” He snootily sneer, both eyes half closed.

For one reason or another this expression on his face makes her uncomfortable. “Well… Yes… At least for me. They are all a huge part of my life.” She says. Then, rather dramatic and ominous pause starts to take residence in this tense conversation.

“.... Hmpf… My god what has that witch done to you?” Her father says as he shakes his head slowly.

The man’s icy teal eyes pierce Rhemi like a freshly sharpened blade and she feels it cut her to her core. Obviously what she said has upset him. The longer he stares the smaller and smaller she feels under his gaze. But this is about her friends after all. They are practically a part of her family and they have fought by her and Muriel’s side, the least thing she can do is stick up for them.

She pushes down her uneasiness and puffs out her chest like she always does when she needs the confidence. “I…. I think I’ve always been this way. Perhaps you just didn’t notice.”

Beatrix suddenly jumps off the table and hides underneath it abandoning her precious biscuit. And a strange, yet powerful tense energy fills the room. It feels like a low rumble almost like an earthquake, yet nothing in the room is shaking or rattling. But Martin’s cold eyes are fixed on his daughter, increasingly becoming more intimidating as he just glares, visually trying his best to keep himself from contorting his face in disgust.

At last his eyes leave his poor daughter and she can feel her body start to unclench as he glances to his gloved hands, clicking his tongue before speaking. “I fear that the sinful place has tainted you, my dear….” His face softens when his head lifts back up to look at her once again, a half fake smile on his face. “But, fear not, we’ll correct that in due time.”

Rhemi’s eyes flutter with that last comment almost afraid to ask. “....What do you—”

“—Oi! Rhemiiiiii!!” The large double doors creak open and Portia calls from the library entrance. “It’s four o’clock!”

“—OH! CRAP! I’m late again!” Suddenly Rhemi runs up to her father a quick hug and gives him a peck on the left cheek. She can feel his shoulder stiffen as she embraces him, taken back with her rather loving affection despite the tense conversation that was just had. But his face softens, icy glare deteriorates like snow melting away on a warm spring day as he hugs her back. “Sorry, I have to get back to the shop before five. I have a rheumatism potion I have to finish before a customer comes for it this afternoon.”

“Oh. I see. You’re a busy one I see...”

“Yeah. Guess so.”

“.... Could I see you tomorrow then, perhaps for tea? I must attend a trading meeting after that, and I believe Portia… I believe it was?... She will be there too.”

“Oh…. umm, Y-yeah… Sure! That’s fine. That’ll be great.” Oddly, she’s unable to stop the feeling like she’s fibbing when she says that, her eyes avert towards the large stained glass windows.

Perhaps, tomorrow won’t be as bad as this afternoon… She thinks to herself. Yeah—He’s just not used to people who are different from him, that's all—Yeah!.... He just might need some more time, get to know them all. I’m sure he’ll come around... Realize that he’s wrong about them.

“See you tomorrow then.” As she turns to leave, Martin keeps a hold of her left wrist. She pulls it back instinctively, but her father squeezes even harder, almost too tightly.

“Rhemielia, my child?”

She cranks her head back around, that sincere and pleading expression returning to her father’s face. “...Aren’t you tired of brewing potions for mere pocket change?”

What? What kind of question is that? Puzzled at this question she tilts her head and asks, “.... I’m sorry?”

“Do you really want to be working all your life in that dusty little shop?”

For a moment she ponders on this thought. She never thought about it to be honest.

As Rhemi tugs her hand once again to take it back, thinking a little harder on what he asked. Yet, he doesn’t let go. In fact, his grip actually tightens around her wrist, and it starts to hurt her. Her face starts to bead sweat, her temples pulsate with twinges of pain yet again and she feels her stomach drop. “P-Père, you’re—you're hurting me.” She whimpers.

Blankly he slowly blinks, as if he didn’t hear her.

“P-Père?.... My wrist… You’re hurting it.”

Finally he glances to her small wrist before finally letting it go. “Ah… Ahem—My apologies, my sweet Pigeon.”

Once Rhemi's wrist is finally released, she stands there rubbing it a bit with her opposite hand. Her skin slightly stinging from his firm grip and the friction of the leather gloves. She didn’t like it when people held her too hard like that, it made her feel so uncomfortable, like she was vulnerable and weak. But she never felt her head ache like that before.

After the stinging dissipates, she places her hands to her side and she sheepishly replies, “.... Well… the shop me and Muriel’s livelihood. How else am I supposed to live?”

An entertained chuckle erupts from the Archmagister’s lips and Beatrix climbs his arm and rests across his shoulders. “Why, back home with me in Charlès of course. You’ll live much more comfortably there. I want you to rejoin the court… back with me.”

Lost for any words, Rhemi stands there feeling like an explosion had just gone off in her head. “Back home… to Charlès?” She repeats.

Her father adjusts his cane, making a faint clank while he straightens back up, puffing his chest out and nodding. “You’re conflicted I see. I half expected you would be. It is a rather bold question for me to ask when we’ve only been reunited for two short days….. Don’t worry, you don’t have to answer me now… just think about it, Rhemielia.”

“O-.... okay. I will.” Uncomfortably she replies, her head now spinning. Finally she shakes out of her own thoughts and smiles awkwardly. “Goodnight, Père… I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Goodnight, my little Pigeon…. Think about what I said.”

“I… I will….” She mumbles as she shuts the door leaving the Archmagister alone in the library with his familiar.

Beatrix sniffs the air cautiously. “Master angry at Pigeon?”

Martin takes a deep breath as he tries to stop his anger and magic from overflowing. “This is all Phara’s doing, Beatrix... That fucking cunt of a witch… Teaching my child such disgusting tolerance for filthy homosexual deviants. That’s precisely why the rest of the world is behind Charlès, Bea. They let perverted cock-sucking fools muck about and run things… this city was nearly all in ruins just a year ago. And that is all because of these fucking liberal fools...”

Trying to calm his anger he takes one of the books Rhemi was reading through in his hands and it bursts into purple and green flames with his magic and he watches with gratification as it burns into dust.

“The world outside of Charlès is disgusting…..” He says picking up one of the books she was reading in disgust. “...It isn’t Rhemielia’s fault she doesn’t remember better… Surrounded by such books, people… and ideals about a backwards way of living. Deprived of morals or sensibility. I will just have to…. remind her of what the correct morals are.”

✨To be continued...

**April fools =P Sorry I had too! XD

Anyways! Thanks so much for reading my hot garbage! I hope you guys didn't mind the very very long chapter!

For all you thirsty trash pandas, the smut will be next chapter *wink wink*

**Agrippa (the baker’s apprentice) belongs to @victorscribbles

#the arcana #the arcana game #muriel fanfic #the arcana fanfic #muriel x mc #muriel x apprentice #muriel x rhemi #the visitor~#part 4~#enjoy my hot trash #enjoy my garbage #for my hungry trash pandas #sorry for the long ass wait #april fools #arcana fandom #non smut

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fiftyshadesof-h · 4 years

Text

Truth or Dare (spencer x reader)

Masterlist

Summary: When a power outage causes the BAU team to get stuck inside a room, they decide to play a game of truth or dare. y/n’s feelings for Spencer Reid come out into the open after a harmless dare.

"You've got to be kidding me, we need to get out of here". Derek said as he walked around the perimeter of the room a third time, trying to escape.

“Oh, is Derek Morgan scared of the dark?” Emily said as she laughed at Derek, who seemed frantic in the dark.

There was currently a blackout going on across the city, that unfortunately got the BAU team stuck in the briefing room.

Of course the new and “improved” security measures inside the building added electrical key card swipers on every door, and because of the power outage no one was getting in or out of this room.

“Did you guys know 36.7 million people are affected by power outages, and”. JJ cut off Spencer's rambling. He must have been a bit anxious too, spitting out statistics normally helped calm him down.

You kind of wish JJ never stopped him, I mean you could listen to Spence talk all day, in fact you did most of the time when he explained something you would zone out only focusing on the way his mouth moved when he pronounced certain words.

You joined the BAU about 7 months ago, and immediately made friends with everyone on the team, but Spencer was the one person that really made a lasting impression on you.

You wouldn’t say that you had feelings for Spencer. Well maybe you did who knows, you always thought it would never happen anyways.

You had been flirting with the good doctor since day one. Even though, he never flirts back. You didn’t know if it’s because he's wasn’t interested or if he just wasn’t getting all of the hints.

You were spinning around in one of the many chairs around the table trying to cure your boredom when Spencer's foot got caught under their chair causing you both to topple over.

‘Just my luck’, You thought. You looked down to see you landed on top of Spencer, your legs on either side of him with an arm out to the side holding you up. You went to get off of him when he gently grabbed your wrist, Spencer started to speak while looking you directly in your eyes. “Hey y/n,” When he started to laugh you could feel his chest bobbing up and down. “Sorry about that i- um,”.

“Don’t worry about it Spence”. You said with a tight lipped smile.

“Wow there playa, so you and y/n a thing now?” Derek said with his eyes wide as he walked around the table seeing me on top of Spencer. Just like that you climbed off of Reid faster than Derek thought was physically possible for a person of your size.

“No no we uh-” “Y/N was in the chair and i-” “it’s not like that”. Spencer and you spoke over each other trying to explain away what Derek had just seen.

“Guys relax,” Derek opened his mouth to say something else but not before JJ cut him off and started talking over him.

She was standing at the head of the table waving the team to come sit together. “I think we should play a game,”. She said with a smirk.

“I vote poker”. Said Rossi from the chair he was sitting in. JJ laughed at that response “not that kind of game Dave, I was thinking more along the lines of truth or dare,”. Everyone traded worried looks with each other. “You know at least until the power comes on and we can get out of here”.

“Oooo Oooo this will be so much fun!” Garcia said with a goofy smile wiped over her face.

“Let’s do it.” Emily nodded.

“Alright, but nothing inappropriate.” Hotch said with the stern look he always had on his face.

“No promises Aaron.” Replied Derek laughing at his own joke like it was the funniest thing ever. The team was so close, it didn’t feel wrong to be informal with our Unit Chief.

“Truth or dare is said to have originated from the ancient Greeks,” Spencer started again.

“Alright I think everyone’s in, let's just get started.” Emily said patting Reid on the shoulder to shut him up.

“Let the games begin.” you said with a devilish smirk on my face.

The team had been playing this game for a while trying to stick to Hotch’s rule of keeping the game appropriate. Spencer and you had ended up sitting next to each other, trading glances throughout the game. You noticed the rest of the girls that happened to be sitting across from you and Spencer had been whispering for a few minutes now, You could only imagine what they were scheming.

Especially when it came to Emily’s turn and her eyes darted between Spencer and You then rested back on you. “Ok y/n, truth or dare?”.

You knew no matter what their answer was these girls had something devious planned for them, and there was no escaping it... “Maybe I could excuse myself to the bathroom” You thought, but decided that might look more suspicious than simply playing along with the game.

“Hmmm I'll go with, truth”. You laughed nervously when JJ and Emily started to simultaneously clap their hands together. Garcia leaned over her chair and whispered something into Emily’s ear which earned an aggressive nod in exchange.

“Is it true that you have feelings for Spencer ?” You sucked in a sharp breath of air between your teeth and looked to Spencer hoping he would say something, anything to get you out of this situation, he wasn’t much help though because all he did was clear his throat and fidget nervously. He turned his head the opposite direction almost like he was pretending he didn’t hear the question.

“I, uh why would you guys even think that?” You said looking in between the three girls. You had tears stinging the corners of your eyes because the three of them had embarrassed you so much, they clearly hadn’t realized as they continued to talk about it.

“Hey now, don’t answer her question with another question y/n, makes us think you’re hiding something.” Derek said side eyeing me trying to mock me with a joke.

“I uh- give me another question”. You could feel your cheeks warming up with embarrassment.

“I think the rules are if you can’t answer a truth, you have to take a dare.” Rossi said looking up from his cigar magazine with a small smile.

“Rossi you didn’t even wanna play, and now you’re helping them?” I said with a scoff. When you noticed no one was gonna budge you continued.

“Fine, give me the dare then.” You said snappier than you meant, You were starting to grow impatient with this game.

“Kiss him,” Emily said cocking her head forward towards Reid. “Reid kiss y/n, now.”

Both Yours and Spencer’s mouths hung open, gaping with the shock of what you were about to do.

Hotch grunted in disapproval, not bothering to take his nose out from the paperwork he was currently buried in.

You leaned forward, close enough to feel Spencer’s breath on your cheek. His breath hitched when You started to whisper in his ear, slowly, softly. “We don’t have to do this Spence, I’ll be okay if you don't want to.”

That wasn’t exactly true, You had wanted to kiss Reid since you saw him your first day at the BAU. You thought about it again, and again every time you saw his tongue quickly slide against his bottom lip each time he talked, and man every time he’d bite and suck his bottom lip into his mouth when he thought about something, I imagined myself biting on that very same-

You looked back up at Spencer getting pulled from your train of thought.

He leaned back You presumed so that he could back out of this kiss but what he did next caught you by surprise.

You could feel the warmth of his hand as he put one of them on your face pulling You in closer to him. You looked up to meet his eyes, just before you were engulfed in a kiss. Yours and Spencer’s lips, synchronized together. You almost forgot the rest of the team was sitting there watching until I heard someone's “Mhm” as they cleared their throat.

When Spencer and you finally pulled apart and met eyes, wide smiles wiped across your faces.

You bit your bottom lip trying to savor the feeling of spencers lips over your own.

And just like that the lights snapped back on, you jumped at the sound of the lock on the door.

“Freedom!” Garcia yelled, Derek chasing after her out of the room.

You were still so entranced by the kiss with Spencer that you didn’t notice the rest of the team had already left the room.

You let out a shaky breath as you said “wow”.

You reached up to Spencer’s face, your hand lingering just above his cheek before you touched him and pulled him in for another passionate embrace. Your hands went grabbing for his curly, brown hair, the two of you separated for only a moment looking at each other, Really looking at each other. It’s like he finally saw you, the way you saw him.

“y/n.” Spencer said as he lifted up your chin so that you would be looking directly at him. “I’ve wanted to do that for so long”. His breaths still heavy as he made the confession.

“Oh Doctor, it only took you 7 months to do it.” You said giggling. He smiled his goofy crooked smile at you before pulling you back in for another kiss.

“Oh come on guys, get a room.” Derek said sticking his head back in the room, then walking back out laughing.

I hope you guys enjoyed! Don’t forget to send requests you want <3

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfiction #spencerreid #criminalmminds #criminalmindsfanfic #y/n #oneshot #they/them #genderfluid x reader #requests #fanfic

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vintage-story-time · 3 years

Text

Mom Gets It On by Kathy Andrews

Chapter 3

"You like Lori Layne, don't you, honey?"

Joey looked up at his mother. He was sitting on the floor of the family

room, reading a comic book. "What makes you think that, Mother?"

Sandy smiled at him, feeling affection for this young son of hers. He

looked so much like his father with his brown, straight hair, his sharp,

almost piercing eyes. He was still small for his age, but she was not

too worried. Rob had not gained height until he was older, then he shot

up almost overnight to his present six-foot-two.

"Mothers can always tell, honey." She smiled at him. "What I want to

know is why you can't find a nice girlfriend your age. Isn't Lori a bit

old for you?"

"I don't go out with girls," he said, wondering what his mother was

getting at. "You won't let me, remember?"

"But if you must like a girl," she said, "why don't you choose one

younger. Lori seems a bit experienced."

"At what?" Joey wanted to know, puzzled. "She's good in school, if

that's what you mean."

"I mean, darling," Sandy said, "that she has boys hanging around her all

the time."

"Sure," her son answered. "She's popular, that's all."

Sandy smirked. "I can guess why."

A faint flush came to Joey's face. "Aw, Mother. Lori isn't that ... I

mean, she don't ... Aw, come on, Mother!"

"Then you understand what I'm talking about?"

Joey blushed a deep pink, burying his face into the comic book. Sandy

had not wanted to embarrass him. This was not the idea she had in mind.

Her plan had not formed completely yet. It was still only a foggy idea

in her head, but since her experience last night she was determined to

try something.

Ever since Rob had gone to the office this morning, she had tried to

come up with some hard and fast way to present her husband and son with

what they desired. But she really did not know Lori, only well enough to

say hello to when she saw the girl. It was odd, she thought, that her

previous feeling of jealousy was gone. All she felt now was the desire

to give her husband and son what they wanted--Lori Layne.

Sandy wished she knew more about the girl. All she knew for certain was

all the boys, and most of the men, were panting for her tight, curvy

little ass. She didn't know if Lori had ever been fucked, what the

teenage girl's sexual desires were. That was an important element in her

vague plan, a most important element. Since her knowledge was limited,

she was going to have to take things as they came up, develop them,

improve upon them.

Another important element was Joey. It was very obvious that he wanted

Lori, but had her son really been with a girl, fucked a girl? He was

awfully young. Well, she thought, young or not, his interest in Lori's

cute ass is plain. But, she also thought, a young boy can easily turn

his interest toward any girl who is available and willing. He might, at

Joey's age, fall head over heels in love with a girl, but if another

came along, waggling her ass in his face, his cock would stand up and

after her he would go. He may still want to fuck the first one, but, in

the meantime, he would fuck whatever girl was handy until he got his hot

little hands on his first love.

Sandy went into the kitchen and poured herself a cup of coffee. Taking

it back into the family room, she sat on the couch next to where her son

was leaning. Her knee was against his shoulder. She wasn't exactly sure

what she was going to do, but something was leading her, something that

was so powerful that she found it impossible to disobey her impulse.

There was a thrilling tingle between her thighs as an idea formed in a

vague way, and she gazed at the top of her son's head, her eyes almost

blank, not really seeing him. Her tits were beginning to swell, her

nipples turning into hard, rubbery tips, pressing against her blouse.

Her cunt was bubbling in a hot, liquid way, and the cheeks of her ass

became quite tight.

Hardly thinking, Sandy placed her coffee cup on the end table and

slipped to the floor, sitting next to her son. Her skirt, of course,

came up high on her thighs as she scooted from the cushions. She did not

shove it down. Instead, she drew her knees up, her feet flat on the

floor. She looked over his shoulder at the comic book, and her hand

rested on her son's thigh. She could feel Joey trembling, and she was

amused to know that he realized something was going to happen but was

still puzzled.

"I'm as pretty as Lori," she whispered softly, close to his ear. "Don't

you think I'm as pretty as she is, honey?"

"Sure, Mother," he mumbled.

Sandy stretched one thigh out, running her hand up and down. "My legs

are as smooth and slender as her's, aren't they, Joey?"

"Yeah, I guess," he gulped, afraid to look at his mother.

"You're not looking at them, darling," she said, her voice suddenly

thick. "Look at my legs and see if they are as nice as Lori's."

Joey glanced quickly, then pulled his gaze away. His cock was very hard

inside his pants, and he was trying to conceal this from his mother. But

Sandy saw the way his prick bulged up, and her breathing increased. She

pressed her shoulder against his, her breath hot on her son's neck and

cheek. Although Joey had his knees drawn up, she could see the outline

of his cock through his pants, his prickhead angled toward his chest.

She ran a hand up and down his thigh, then around to his back. She

caressed his thigh, moving her hand slowly toward his ass. Then, holding

her breath as excitement began to rumble through her, she slipped her

fingers through his thighs and brushed along his cock and balls.

Joey didn't move except to tremble. His face was very red now, and Sandy

realized he was gasping, trying to control his breathing so she wouldn't

know how excited he was. She moved the tip of one finger up and down his

cock, feeling the hardness, thrilled at the way his prick throbbed

against her fingertip.

Sandy placed her lips close to her son's flaming ear and whispered in a

throaty voice, "I look as good as Lori, honey. My legs are as pretty as

hers, and you want to know something? I don't tease a boy like she does,

Joey."

She closed her fingers about her son's cock, giving his prick a squeeze.

Her son trembled visibly, and he had stopped breathing. He was not

shocked, nor afraid, only surprised and intensely excited.

"I wouldn't tease a boy, darling," Sandy murmured softly into his ear.

"I don't like girls who tease that way. It isn't good for a boy to get

all hot like that. It can be horribly painful, I understand."

Joey was breathing again, but in a panting way. He stared at the comic

book, his hands shaking so badly the pages rattled. Sandy squeezed his

cock again, then pulled at his zipper. When she pressed his legs out and

down, he did not resist.

Sandy slipped her hand into his pants and very gently felt of his cock.

His prick was very hard and hot, and she pulled his cock out slowly, her

lips kissing at his neck now. Looking down at her son's cock, Sandy

mewled with pleasure. His prick was not as large as his father's, of

course, but his cock was beautiful to her. The prickhead was swollen,

almost a light-blue color, and he was dripping from his piss hole. The

cockshaft was extremely hard, about four inches long.

She ran her fingertip up and down his prick, then over his smooth

cockhead, circling his piss hole. Joey shuddered with intense pleasure,

and when his mother closed her fist around his cock and began to jack up

and down very slowly, he moaned.

"Do you like this, honey?" she whispered. "Does it make you feel good?

Do you think Lori would do this for you? Would she please you this way,

Joey?"

Still flushed, but no longer with embarrassment, Joey watched his

mother's fist pumping on his cock. He had become so excited, and this

felt so good, he couldn't feel embarrassed. His mother's hand on his

cock was tight and hot, hotter, even, than his own fist. He sneaked a

look at her thighs, and thought he could see the crotch of her panties,

but just barely.

Sandy's cunt was burning hotly between her thighs as she stroked her

son's cock. She writhed her ass against the floor, taking her son's hand

and bringing it up, curling his fingers about one swelling tit.

"Feel that, Joey," she whispered. "Feel my tit. It's bigger than Lori's,

isn't it? Would she let you feel her tit this way, honey, or jack you

this way?"

Joey didn't reply because his throat was dry, his lips dry. He licked

them, looking at his mother's thighs from the corner of his eyes shyly.

When she dropped her hand from his, he still cupped her tit. He could

feel her nipple pressing into his palm, making his hand itch.

"She wouldn't do these things with you, Joey," Sandy continued. "There

are many things that she wouldn't do for you because she probably never

heard of them. But me ... I know what makes a boy feel good. I can make

a boy feel real good! I'd do things Lori never dreamed of doing with a

boy!"

She pulled his hand down from her tit, slipped it along her thigh,

finally shoved her son's hand between her thighs. She spread her legs

out and curled his fingers into her bubbling crotch. She pressed Joey's

hand tightly against her pantied cunt, hearing him gasp loudly.

"Doesn't that feel good to you, honey? Isn't it hot between my legs?"

Sandy squeezed his cock harder, and her fist jacked faster. "You can put

your hand inside my panties if you want ... feel me up, darling! I love

it when a boy feels me up! I bet Lori wouldn't let you feel her cunt

like this."

Joey, now so excited he would do anything, slipped his hand of his own

free will to the waistband of his mother's panties. He ran his hand down

inside them, and felt the curling hairs of her cunt. Eagerly now, his

fingers moved downward and slipped along the puffy, wet lips of her

pussy.

"Oooo, Joey!" Sandy whimpered hotly. "That's nice, your hand in my

panties, feeling me up! Play with my cunt, darling! Play with mother's

pussy ... feel my cunt!"

Joey looked into his mother's face for the first time since this started

and saw the sparkling heat in her dark eyes. Her fist was very, very

tight on his cock, jacking him in a way he had never jacked himself. He

felt as if he would come if she kept that up.

"That's right, baby!" Sandy mewled. "My cunt! That is your mother's

pussy you're feeling! Call it anything you want, whatever excites you

best! Call it my cunt, my pussy ... twat ... snatch! Call it anything

you want to call it!"

Joey stammered: "C-c-cunt!"

Sandy laughed with pleasure. "That's it, Joey, cunt! Mother's cunt! It's

a hot cunt, a very hot cunt, baby! My pussy is much hotter than Lori's,

I'd bet. I bet my cunt can do things her little pussy never heard of!"

"Mother," he said, no longer stammering, "can I stick my finger in you?"

Sandy laughed again, a low, husky sound. "You sure can, Joey! You can

stick your finger up my cunt!"

She spread her thighs as wide as she could. Joey moved his hand down,

cupping her hairy pussy. His middle finger pushed against her puffy

cuntlips, then his finger was inside his mother's pussy.

"You're real wet and hot, Mother!" he said, his eyes wide and blazing

with excitement. "You're sure wet!" "That's because I'm so aroused I

want something in me, Joey," she explained. "A cunt gets nice and wet

when a girl wants to fuck!"

"Do you want to fuck, Mother?" he asked, his voice thick with desire.

"I love to fuck," she whispered.

"I mean, do you want to fuck me?"

"Would you like to fuck me, Joey?" she asked, a grin of wicked pleasure

on her beautiful face. "Would you enjoy fucking your mother?"

"Can I?" he asked, excitement making his voice tremble. "Can I really

fuck you, Mother? You'll let me put my cock in your cunt and fuck you?

Really? You're not teasing me, are you, Mother?"

"Didn't I tell you I never tease a boy?"

"Gosh!"

Sandy turned loose of his cock and quickly jerked her skirt to her

waist. She sat back up on the couch, her ass hanging over the edge of

the cushions, knees wide. She leaned back, pulling the crotch of her

panties to one side, exposing her hairy pussy to her son's hot eyes. She

ran a finger up and down the side of a puffy cuntlip.

"Come on, Joey," she said, writhing her ass. "Put your prick in me! Put

your sweet cock in my cunt and fuck me! Fuck me good and hard! I love a

hard, fast fucking!"

Joey was on his knees between his mother's thighs, his eyes wide and his

tongue running about his lips. His mother's cunt was the most beautiful

thing he had ever seen in the world, and the sight made his cock jerk up

and down in a way his prick never had before.

Sandy, holding the crotch of her panties far to the side, used her other

hand to take hold of his cock and bring him to her pussy. She could see

his swollen prickhead brush at her hair-rimmed cuntlips, pleasure

shooting through her body, sending her into a shivering delight. She

rubbed his cock up and down her cunt, feeling the smoothness of his

prick against her pussy lips. She smashed his dripping piss hole against

her distended clit, bringing a bubbling coo of ecstasy from her throat.

"Oooo, Joey, Joey!" she gasped. "That feels good, doesn't it! Doesn't my

cunt feel good against your cock? Ohhh, your prick is so hard ... and I

love the feel of your cock smashing my clit this way! Oh, honey, honey,

this is going to be so good, so goddamn good! You're going to love my

cunt, baby! You're going to love mother's hot, wet, hairy cunt ...

fucking that sweet cock of yours!"

Holding the base of her son's cock, Sandy pulled him slowly forward.

"You watch, Joey! Watch your cock go into mother's pussy!"

He gazed down with hot eyes, seeing the head of his prick sink into his

mother's hairy, heated pussy. Sandy stopped for a moment, placing her

hands on his hips. She moved her ass slightly up and down, and more of

his cock entered her cunt.

"See, Joey?" she panted. "See your hard, sweet cock going into mother's

wet pussy? Watch it, honey, watch my cunt suck your sweet cock all the

way inside!"

She pulled at his hips, and Joey's eyes became larger as he saw his cock

sink all the way in. The cunt hairs of his mother's pussy pressed

against his open pants, and he felt as if his cock had been placed

inside some boiling liquid. Her pussy was squeezing his cock, flexing on

his prick the same way her hand had been doing a few minutes earlier.

The feeling sent a tremble of pleasure racing up and down his spine.

Sandy worked at his pants while his cock was buried in her pussy. "I

want your pants down, Joey! I want your pants down! Ohhh, I want to feel

your balls against my ass!"

He helped her, shoving his pants to his thighs. Now he could see his

mother's cunt hair against the base of his cock, mingling with the few

strands he had. Again she held his hips.

"Hold my legs, baby," she instructed. "Hold my legs ... close to my ass!

Hold them, because I'm going to start fucking you!"

Joey knelt between her thighs, feeling them close against his naked

hips. Then his mother began to bounce her hips up and down, and he

watched his cock move in and out of her pussy. He didn't move. He was

afraid to move. He thought if he moved his cock would come out, and he

didn't want that to happen.

Sandy whipped her ass up and down, writhing and wiggling, fucking him,

her cunt sliding back and forth on his cock. She loved the sensation his

cock gave her as her pussy rode his prick.

"Oooo, Joey, Joey!" she wailed, slamming her ass up and down, her hands

gripping his hips. "I'm fucking you, baby! Mother's cunt is fucking the

hell out of your hard, sweet cock! Watch it, honey! Watch my hairy cunt

fuck that nice prick of yours! Ohhh, doesn't this feel good! Doesn't my

hot cunt make your cock feel good? Ahhh, baby, baby ... wonderful! So

fucking wonderful!"

Sandy loved the expression of sheer ecstasy on her son's face. He could

not take his eyes off the way her hairy cunt was fucking his cock. His

eyes were wide, but filmed over with intense pleasure, and his mouth

hung open as he gasped and panted for breath. His fingers were digging

into her hips now, his body almost rigid.

"Do you like this, Joey? Do you like mother's cunt? Doesn't my cunt make

your cock feel good? Can you feel your balls touching my ass? I love it,

baby! I love your balls touching my ass ... your cock up my cunt ...

fucking you! Oh, I love it so fucking much!"

Joey could feel himself close to coming, and he clung to his mother's

hips wildly. She swung them about, up and down and sideways, so fast

that he was afraid his cock would slip out of her before he came. Sandy

understood the expression on his face, and she could feel the way his

cock was throbbing inside her steaming cunt.

"You want to come, darling?" she asked in a puffing voice. "Do you want

to come off?"

"I think I ... I don't think I can stop it, Mother!"

"Don't stop it, baby!" she squealed loudly. "Don't try to stop it! Let

it go ... come! Come in my cunt! Ohhh, I love it when a hard cock is

gushing all that sweet, thick come juice up my cunt! Squirt your come in

me, Joey! Let me feel you coming off in my pussy! Come, honey, come!"

Her hips danced and jerked, bouncing furiously, her twitching cunt

flexing on his cock. She could feel an orgasm boiling away in the pit of

her stomach, and she knew her climax was going to be a fantastic one.

"I'm about to come, too, Joey!" she shouted, swinging her ass about.

"Your cock is about to make me come, too! Ohhh, fuck it, fuck it, fuck

it!"

Joey's body was very rigid, almost board-like. His eyes gleamed

downward, seeing his mother's cunt race up and down his cock, her

panties still pulled to one side. Sandy's fingers dug into his naked

hips as she fucked her pussy wildly on his prick. She was panting in a

labored way now, her body shaking violently.

"Ooooo, there!" she wailed. "I'm doing it, darling! I'm coming! Oh, God,

am I coming! My cunt is exploding ... burning up! I'm coming, Joey! My

pussy is coming! Feel it ... feel mother's cunt ... coming! Hurry, hurry

and come with me, baby! I want your cock shooting off ... squirting up

my hot, hot cunt! Come, Joey ... come in me, in my pussy!"

"Uh, uh!" Joey grunted, his hips arching forward to stab his prick as

deep as he could into his mother's flexing cunt. "I'm coming, Mother!"

he shouted in a tight voice. "I'm coming!"

Sandy, through her convulsions, felt her son's cock swell and lurch

inside her pussy just as her orgasm was ending.

"Oh ... oh ... oh!" she grunted in surprise. "Darling! Joey! Baby! Oh,

I'm going to come ... again! Ohhh, honey, shove harder, deeper! Oh, my

God! I'm coming again! Ohhhh, so good, so fucking good! I'm coming

again, Joey!"

Joey's cock burst, flooding thick come juice into his mother's steaming

cunt. The spasms were so strong, his body shook. Sandy's thighs closed

tightly about his hips, her own hips not pumping now. Her orgasm was so

powerful she could only lie there, her head against the back of the

couch, her pussy gripping his spewing cock by reflex. She shook almost

as badly as her son, and every nerve in her body seemed to be vitally

alive.

"Ooooo ... Ohhhh!" she moaned softly as her orgasm rumbled through her.

"Ahhhh, good! Ohhhh, so fucking good! I love it ... love it so fucking

much! Oh ... oh ... ohhh!"

Joey became very weak, and he slowly slipped from between his mother's

thighs, falling to the floor and sprawling out, his pants at his knees,

his shirt past his waist. When Sandy managed to open her eyes and look

down at her son, she fixed her gaze immediately upon his revealed cock

and balls. His prick glistened with the moisture of his come juice and

the wetness of her cunt. His balls were loose and slack now. There were

perhaps thirty or forty curling hairs at the base of his cock with a bit

of light-colored fuzz.

Slowly, she sat upright, watching his chest move up and down rapidly.

She dropped to her knees near him, reaching for his balls. She cradled

them gently in her palm, then leaned down and kissed them. Joey's eyes

popped wide open, staring down at his mother.

"Mother, what are you doing?"

"Oh, baby," she crooned. "You look so good, lying here with your pants

down, I couldn't help but kiss your sweet balls."

Then, before Joey knew what was going on, Sandy began to quickly run her

tongue about his cock and balls, tasting their combined wetness. She

opened her lips and sucked her son's cock into her mouth, pulling up on

his prick with a strong suction. Then she went down again, sucking on

his cock, her tongue fluttering about his seeping piss hole.

"Gosh!" she heard him grunt.

"Mmmmm!" she whimpered.

"You like doing that, Mother?" she heard Joey ask. "I mean, with your

mouth?"

Sandy sucked off his cock and cupped his prick in her hot hand, looking

into his eyes. Her own eyes shined happily as she nodded her head. "I

love to suck on a cock, darling. Why did you ask? Why don't you just lie

there and enjoy it?"

"I thought ... Gosh, Mother," he said, his face red again. "I mean, the

guys say some girls do that, but I didn't believe it. I thought it was

just a bunch of shi--lies."

Sandy laughed. "It isn't a bunch of shit, Joey," she said softly. "Most

girls will suck a guy's cock off for him. That is, most girls that I

ever knew."

"Then it's true? Girls do suck cocks, Mother?"

"This girl does ... and she loves it!" "I wonder--" Joey started to say,

then stopped. "What do you wonder, darling?" she urged, squeezing his

cock and bails in her palm. "Tell me."

"Mother, do you think Lori will suck a cock?" Sandy stared at her son.

So, she thought, he still wants that teenage cunt. She had just given

her son the first fuck of his young life, fucked him better than any

teenage girl could ... and all he could think of was Lori. For a moment,

she felt jealousy flare inside her again, but the feeling went away

quickly.

"Didn't you enjoy fucking me, Joey?" she asked, turning loose of his

cock and balls. "Wasn't my cunt hot enough for you?"

"I loved it, Mother!" he said. "I really loved it! I've never fucked a

girl before. I was just wondering if Lori did it, that's all."

"Of course Lori fucks, Joey," she said. "With her looks and all those

boys sniffing around her ass, it's obvious she fucks."

"But do you think she would suck a guy's cock, Mother?"

Sandy looked at his young face, seeing the excitement he felt for the

young girl. "Joey," she said slowly and softly. "I would bet my last

dime on it. Lori is sure to be a very good cocksucker."

#Mom Gets It On by Kathy Andrews #Chapter 3

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razorblade180 · 5 years

Text

Lasting Embers part27: Winding down

The fifth day of final family bonding is in full effect. Midday sun shines down on Tenzen’s back yard where him and both his parents currently are. Friday’s were usually days when they decided to use the grill so why change up the tradition now? Might as well go a bit grander than usual, which is exactly what they did.

Mercury:*flipping burgers* Thanks for the invitation you two. It’s nice to have a moment of peace.

Emerald:Not to mention good food. Constantly going around the world is fun and all but you do not always end up near good restaurants.

Nora:*wearing an apron* No problem you two. The food would be better if Ren was helping but as you can see.....

Tenzen:*fully powered and standing still*

Ren:*watching him*

Nora:He’s busy at the moment.

Emerald:I don’t mind the light show. It’s actually kinda pretty.

Orange and pink aura flow upward into the air as usual when his semblance is in use. The added effect of lightning of the same color crackles calmly around his body thanks to his close and once again his usual appearance has had a color swap. Nora honestly thinks the pink hair with an orange strip looks better on him. Not to mention his orange eyes.

Mercury:You know it might be a good idea to change your semblance name before you go to beacon and everyone sees it.

Tenzen:What’s wrong with Overflow? It’s literally what my aura is doing.

Mercury:Yeah but is it cool? There’s other things you could call it to make it slightly cooler. Like Over Soul....

Nora:Limit Break!

Emerald:Soul Surge.....

Ren:Oooo that’s a good one.

Tenzen:Hey! I thought you were gonna be on my side?

Ren:It was just a thought. You ready to attempt your new move?

Tenzen:*shakes out his arms and legs* All right, let’s see if I’ve improved.

He takes a deep breath and puts his hands together. Slowly his aura stops flowing up and starts concentrating itself behind him. Everybody watches intently as it starts to take the shape of a silhouetted version of himself. It increases in a size a bit bigger than him and starts moving independently before fading away. Sweat drips down the poor boys face.

Ren:You got it to move and last longer this time.

Tenzen:*huff* Yeah but it isn’t near perfect yet. Man....*huff* I usually don’t have too much trouble with aura manipulation.

Ren:Nobody has ever done anything like you are right now. I’m learning new things just by watching you.

Mercury:Uhh what did I just see? It was almost like seeing monkey boy’s semblance but more intense.

Nora:Tenzen as exceptional aura control and can use it ways most people can’t thanks to his semblance. He’s moved it around freely in small ways like wrapping it around people for protection or to grab them. Now he’s actually trying to mold it into things.

Mercury:So you choose yourself?

Tenzen:It’s both the easiest and most complex thing I can think of right now. After that maybe I could get crazy with it.

Mercury:.....

Mercury:You gave yourself a Stand.....

Tenzen:Why would you say something like that..?

Emerald:As far as semblances go I think Tenzen might have the weirdest I’ve ever seen. I mean your aura seems boundless yet you still run out like everyone else.

Tenzen:I like to think of it sort of like a stamina bar. Let’s say my regular bar reaches up to 100% and my aura ranges in between that number and zero. My semblance breaks that cap and makes my aura amount 500%. Yeah it gives me way more to work with but instead of my semblance just eating away at my aura, it eats away at the bar itself. So when it’s all said and done, I can end up with a bar that can only hold 25%

Emerald:Sounds tricky; you’ll end up only being able to take minimum damage if that happens. Is that what happened in the woods?

Tenzen:Basically, I’m surprised what aura I had held up against me falling from the cliff. What makes things scarier is I knew even with Jaune around to use his semblance it wouldn’t help much. We’ve tested it before and it would restore the aura but not the bar; that only comes back with time.

Mercury:Yet despite all of that you rushed in to save everyone. Risky move but respectable.

Nora:Please don’t make that habit.....

Tenzen:Mmmm no promises. *smiles*

Nora:*grumbles* Why are you like me?

Ren:Alright, you seem like you still have more than enough power to attempt your other move.

Tenzen:*Grinning* Oh we’re way pass me “attempting” it. I was actually going to try it in training but then all the cult shenanigans happened.

Emerald:(Shenanigans, he makes it sound like it’s not the craziest thing in the world. Well....it kinda isn’t but still)

Once a again he takes a calming breath before bending his right arm and stares at his hand. Aura and lightning dust travel down to his palm until his hand is engulfed in it.

Tenzen:Done.....

Ren:How!? When did you- *smiles* it took me forever how to influence my aura with dust. You really are a genius at this stuff.

Tenzen:Well it helps I have the best teacher ever. *powers down*

Nora:Wow, I see how it is. Not like we spent countless nights together sparring and perfecting that together.

Tenzen:That’s because you’re the best mom ever. *hugs her* I love you!!!!!

Nora:I love you too my little ninja.

“You still go by little ninja?”

Everyone turns to see Yujin walking into the backyard. She has a white sack over her shoulder.

Yujin:Sup sherbet head.

Tenzen:First of all, that nickname can die. Second, why are you here?

Yujin:Want me to leave?

Tenzen:I didn’t say that at all. Just surprised is all.

Yujin:Home is a little.....lonely. I tell dad to spend time with Yang and sitting on my porch gets old. So I thought “why not go see Tenzen?”

Tenzen:*smirks* So you’re here for me?

Yujin:*red* Don’t make this weird.

Ren:Well obviously you are welcomed here anytime.

Mercury:Too bad you didn’t bring any food to this little cookout.

Yujin:*pulls chips out the bag* I know how Friday’s work around here.

Mercury:New favorite person right here. Besides Emerald of course.

Emerald:Nice save dork.

Yujin:I hate to ask but is there any chance I can inspect all of your weapons?

Tenzen:*squints* I know your game.....

Yujin:*nervous* Pfft what game?

Tenzen:Did you come here to socialize or get weapon ideas?

Yujin:.......Can’t it be both?

Tenzen:Will it?

Yujin:*grabs his arms* Let me tinker around with my weapon please? If I have one more emotional conversation I might fall apart. Do you want me to fall apart in your backyard? I’ve learned to cry really easily the pass five days. I’m holding back tears right now man!

Tenzen:......

Yujin:*tearing up*....

Tenzen:Oh you weren’t joking! Uhh fine, just-

Yujin:Thanks!

Just like that she emptied what was left in the bag to reveal a sketch pad and some intricate tools for salvaging whatever she can from her sword. By the time he looked back up at her she had her hair in a ponytail and glasses on.

Yujin:I already know where you guys keep all your weapons so....*darts off*

Emerald:How does she know that?

Tenzen:Don’t ask me. Maybe her real semblance is sniffing out weapons. At least she’s happy.

Nora:How has she been about all this? Her face looks kinda paler than usual. Also a bit thinner?

Tenzen:She actually looked worse a few days ago.Looks like things are getting a bit better but I’m worried it might not stick. After all, leaving day is soon. That’s gonna hard on her.

Nora:Don’t forget yourself....

Brief silence comes after that statement. All adults looking at him sadly as he just looks at the ground for a moment. The mood changes though when he raises his head with a smile.

Tenzen:I’ll be just fine! Sure I’ll miss all you guys but honestly school might keep me busy and you all will be back before I know it. I am looking at some of the most capable fighters in Remnant after all.

Mercury:*wraps arm around him and Emerald* Thanks kid, the cult won’t know what hit em!

Emerald:Hell yeah! *all three laughing*

Nora:*frowning at Ren*.....

Ren:I know. He’s not gonna talk about it though. I’ve tried everything.

Nora......!!! We’re not completely out of options yet. I gonna go check on Yujin.

Ren:Please don’t be pushy.

Nora:Mmmmm no promises. *smiles*

Inside Yujin was having a field day. Her house was nothing quite like there’s seeing how the entire building actually uses to house other people like an apartment studio. Now different floors have different functions. Their living room and kitchen were connected on the first floor since it was more than big enough. The spiral staircase upstairs led upstairs to a hallway with rooms for four people which she always found weird. Two of course were their rooms and at best a third round would occupy Merc and Em. Maybe the fourth room was for her or Jaune if they visited? She could not imagine sleeping under the same roof as Tenzen; especially with what happened recently. There was a final door upstairs that obviously was the restroom.

Nora:Hey Yujin can we have a minute to chat!?

Yujin:I’m on the dance floor!

Nora:*going upstairs* You know we do more than dance up here right?

Yujin:I know, but anytime Tenzen sends a video of him doing a routine it’s in here.

She was setting on the floor with her sketch pad. Different designs of everyone’s weapons over the years were set in front of her.

Nora:Woah, you found all of them.

Yujin:From Beacon days, the fall, Salem quest modifications, post Salem, etc. they are all so similar but different. I’m hoping one of these will spark an idea. Transforming weapons was never my finest skill set. Made too many moving parts or not enough to help. *Sketching*

Nora:Turning a sword into gauntlets sounds rough. Why not just make gauntlets with hidden blades.

Yujin:My sword skills depend on me being to do things like twirl it and hold it backhanded sometimes. Merging the two limits that. I need to find away to fluidly transition in between them. The way Ren’s blade retract in is giving me a few ideas but not much.

Nora:(I don’t think I’ve seen so many sketches for one weapon since Jaune tried to change his.)

Yujin:Maybe I should forget the gauntlets all together? Sigh, not like they’ve been useful.... *slumps shoulders*

Nora:....Are you-

Yujin:It’ll pass, don’t worry about me. *keeps sketching*

Nora:Yujin I have a favor to ask you.

Yujin:Sure thing Mrs.Valkyrie.

Nora:You know you can just call me Nora?

Yujin:I know, but I like saying your last name since it’s cool.

Nora:*smiles* I would say call me Auntie but that might be weird since you’re crushing on my son.

The pencil breaks as she accidentally put too much pressure on it. Why is she always getting caught off guard like this? It’s like the entire world is trying to make her deal with at least one emotional problem a day. Blood rushes to her face and her ears turn red as memories from two days ago surface.

Yujin:I....*mumbles* Tenzen is just a friend....

Nora:I wonder how many times I said that about Ren? Admitting it helps a lot you know? *smirking* I’m not saying go confront him about it; I realize how much of a flirt my wild child is. Personally I blame all his fans.

Yujin:I cannot tell you how many people I see wearing a shirt with his mask on it. “Nobody dances like TZ!” It’s like everyone goes a bit crazy for him and they don’t even know him.

Nora:His personality and energy are very infectious. A people pleaser like him knows how to keep spirits up. That’s actually why I wanted to talk to you.

Yujin:???

Nora:It might not be noticeable but Tenzen also has his hangs up like you.

Yujin:Really? He seems fine and calm about most things that happen. It honestly makes me a bit jealous seeing him handle stress so well.

Nora:He gets that from his father. Still he has them for sure. My son is just the type to put his problems on the back burner and prioritize everyone else. Problem is he never takes a moment to himself and faces them until it’s a bit late.

Yujin:Huh, I had no idea. Actually, the other day I did mention how much I admired how strong he was compared to me in situations and he was about to say something until he got cut off. Can’t say if it was about his problems but he did seem....sad.

Nora:Listen, I doubt he’ll tell anyone how he feels about everything going right now but I do know they’ll come out eventually when it’s too late. Can you just make sure to check in on him sometimes when we leave? I want him to have a person to talk to when he needs it.

Yujin:Oh of course! Can’t say I can really picture him needing my help much but I’ll be there.

Nora:*smiles* That’s a relief. I wouldn’t know what to do with myself if he suffered in silence after we left. My heart wouldn’t take it.

Yujin:......Nora, you’re a good mom.

Nora:Yang is better, or at least in my opinion.

Yujin:Agree to disagree.

Nora:Not even going to entertain this conversation huh?

Yujin:Not in the slightest.

..........

Nora:.........It’s not really my place to pry but I hope you know she loves you and right now the things you’re doing are really hurting her-

Yujin:She’s hurt me my whole life!

The entire room echoes with that yell. Nora just stares calmly as the girls anger quickly vanishes as it came.

Yujin:Sorry I.....I didn’t mean to yell at you. That was wrong.

Nora:It happens. *grabs her hand*

Yujin:Why does it feel like people are taking sides? *trembling* The way everyone keeps praising her and just wants me forgive makes it feel like I’m wrong for acting this way. Everyone seems to be on her side while I’m just alone.

Nora:Trust me when I say nobody thinks you’re wrong for being upset. It’s just we know Yang and that she is doing everything she can and more for you. We want you to see that. Leaving you a second time is killing her but sometimes hard choices have to be made. Even if that choice feels wrong. You know about Pyrrha right?

Yujin:Of course, without her I might not even be here.

Nora: For a long time her sacrifice didn’t feel like the right call. Going off to a fight she couldn’t win felt like nothing but a waste; especially to Jaune. Looking back on it though we couldn’t have been more wrong. Pyrrha gave people precious time to keep evacuating and Ruby might not have found out about her powers without her help. That dragon certainly would’ve done more harm.

Yujin:.....

Nora:I’m not saying you have to forgive your mother right now. But I do hope that one day you can look back at all this and take some sort of pride from the fact that she’s doing it to protect everyone; including you most of all. By the way *smiles* I think the gauntlet part of your weapon is one of the coolest parts.

Yujin:Nora, can I ask you for something? It’s...*red* a bit strange. You’re not my mom but.....I mean I would like it if you-

Nora calmly pulls her into a hug. Allowing the girl to just rest into her embrace. Her heart rate starts to speed up and her breath a little heavy. She’s crying into Nora’s shirt heavily with no signs of stopping.

Yujin:How’d you know?

Nora:It’s all I ever wanted as a kid too.

Yujin:The worst part about this feeling is it won’t last. You’re leaving too.

Nora:*tightens hug*(You poor child. )

[Tai’s house]

Ruby:Downloading and uploading countless videos across different scrolls and onto a computer is one thing. Putting those files in chronological order, making sure they aren’t corrupted and then onto a scroll with enough space is an entirely different ball game. People who use computers for a living have my respect.

Jaune:You can take a break if you want. We still have two days left.

Ruby:*holds up scroll* I’m done. Do we have coffee?

Jaune:What!?

Ruby:Coffee, I’ve been up for a full day doing this. I would like-

Jaune:You finished with two days to spare? Ruby that’s-

Ruby:I know, “Ruby you’re so amazing!” I appreciate praise but right now I feel like I’m dreaming.

Jaune:Cream and five sugars?

Ruby:Black......

Jaune:*eyes widened*..........who are you?

Ruby:I need a drink that’s gonna slap me in the face. Plus I’m a grown woman.

Jaune:*hands her a mug* So all that’s left is the journal then.

Ruby:Don’t forget to wrap it all up. *sips*....... hey can you put-

Jaune:*hands her another mug* Cream and sugars in it?

Ruby:*red* You suck....

Jaune:You swallow.....

Ruby:But you still kiss me afterwards.*finger gun* damn where’s Yang when I need her? That was a good comeback.

Jaune:*points to the couch*

Yang:*passed out*Zzzzzzz

Ruby:Guess she needed a break too. I hope she can stay awake on look out when we leave. This stress might get to her.

Jaune:Both of you don’t talk much about what happened over the decade. Almost like you’re avoiding it.

Ruby:Not really, wasn’t much to say. Travel, hide, spy, kill, hunt, research.... It felt like a giant manhunt honestly. They were constantly looking for us while we looked for them. Only difference is they also had to spend time progressing their plans. We had some cool fights and close calls. More than I would like.

Jaune:You ready to go back?

Ruby:Ready as I’ll ever be. It’s wrong to say but I think of piece of me was relieved to learn the mission wasn’t over yet. Starting to move forward made me a bit anxious. Am I wrong for that?

Jaune:*shrugs* Consider this a chance to do the mission the right way. You’re the one who said that this time around it’s not about vengeance.

Ruby:That’s right; protecting others are serving justice. Just like it should be.

Yang:*waking up* I’ll drink to that. Someone poor me some cof-*handed a mug*

Jaune:It’s black coffee.

Yang:Is there any other way to drink it? *downs it admittedly*

Ruby:*shudders* That will always freak me out. Good news, the scroll is done. How’s the journal coming along.

Yang:Honestly I do not know anymore. I write but I keep wondering if any of it is actually any good. I’m worried she won’t even read it.

Jaune:She’ll read it. Maybe not in the beginning but she’ll definitely read it eventually.

Yang:I hope so. The other problem is how can anyone express everything they want to say to their kid with just one journal? There’s no time to make another one and everything I write in this one keeps reminding of more things I want to tell her. Before I know it I’m at end of a page and I still haven’t told her everything I think she should hear. *looks at it* Pouring out your emotions onto paper has been more frustrating than fighting Salem.

Jaune:Sigh, what’s with the women in this family struggling with emotions but excelling in combat. All three of you have that same exact problem which is surprising. Tai seems to be fine at sharing feelings and he’s the only DNA link you all share.

Yang:*grumbles*........

Ruby:I think you’ve been thinking of this journal wrong. It’s not meant to replace you or even say farewell. Think of it more as “see you later.” Because you will see her later Yang Xiao Long. No ifs, ands, or buts about it. So stop treating it like it’s the last thing you’ll ever do for her.

Jaune:She’s right. It’s not like you to prepare for the worst. You always plan for the best!

Yang:......

Jaune and Ruby: *smiling*........

Yang:Sigh, who am I to resist a double leader pep talk? *grabs it* better get back to work then.

[Menagerie,Oasis]

Adam:*packing* Jacquelyn can you hand me my flashlight?

Jacquelyn:Here you go. Finally packing for the trip?

Adam:Don’t wanna forget anything last minute. It counts as work but it has to be done.

Jacquelyn:Fair enough. I mean Jael has been packing for beacon for awhile too.

Adam:I’ve noticed, she’s packing like her spot is already guaranteed there.

Jacquelyn:You don’t think she is gonna pass the exam?

Adam:I do, I’m just glad she does too. I’d be concerned if she packed light.

Jacquelyn:It’s weird to think everyone is leaving so soon. Sienna’s missions for the shadows, your mission, Jael’s entrance and initiation exam. Things are going to get lonely around here.....

Adam:I’ve actually been thinking about that. *stands up* what do you say about going on another venture across the world when Jael gets in? You haven’t done that in years.

Jacquelyn:That’s an option. It wouldn’t feel right though. I’ve gotten used to having someone to talk to on those trips. *holds his hand* he was never much for conversation but he kept me company.

Adam:He also tried attacking you a few times.

Jacquelyn:Yeah but I could beat him with one hand tied behind my back; still can. *smirks*

Adam:Oh so you’re that confident.

Jacquelyn:You’re strong my love but face it, I’ve always been too much for you to handle. *rubs his face*

Adam:Sounds like a challenge I just might except. *grabs her waste*

Jacquelyn:Careful, I don’t accept challenges with rewards. I just might have you try to put another baby in me if you lose.

Adam:I’d do that win or lose regardless.

Jacquelyn:Who are you and what have you done with Adam?

Adam:I’m Jacquelyn Frost’s husband *leans closer* so in other words I’m the luckiest man alive.

Both of them start kissing and getting a bit handsy when-

Jael:*red* Ahem!!

Adam:......

Jacquelyn:*grinning* Hi sweetie!!!!

Jael:......Dinner is ready. *slowly walks away*

Sienna:*walks by with her ears covered* You two are gross.

Adam:*face palms* We forgot about the door and their hearing.

Sienna:Speak for yourself. They’re old enough to know to leave the house when this happens. *happily hugging him* I at least wanted to have one fun day out of the week. Don’t tell me I’m the only one who’s thought about it?

Adam:........

Adam:*red* Tomorrow.....

Jacquelyn:You here that you little wild flowers!?

Sienna and Jael:Unfortunately!!!!!

Adam:Let’s go eat dinner.

Jacquelyn:Kay!

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adorkable-phoenix · 5 years

Text

My Friend May

A Arthur Fleck FanFic

//No warnings besides homeless teen topic

Sweet simplistic fic of a much needed Friend for Arthur Fleck

Homeless Teen OC giving Arthur a sweet escape from his horrible reality. In return he offers the same sort of peace. ❥

Word count - 1,146

It was Sunday afternoon, Arthur's favorite day of the week. For a few reasons, one being he was off the next day. But mostly for having time to talk to a dear friend of his. Although, she was only fifteen. Which some people thought it was weird that she was his friend. He couldn't help it, she was one of the few people that were actually nice to him. She really listened and seemed to want to help him.

Arthur was cleaning off his face. Getting the face paint clean from his skin as fast as he could. Though he skipped out on some that hid in the wrinkles of his face. To finish off getting back to his regular look. His hands brushed into his hair. Ruffling it out, getting rid of hat-hair. Then Athur got up heading out before Randall could get a word in. While exiting the building he stopped by the vending machine. Analyzing what lay inside as he fished his hand into his jacket pocket. His other hand held tightly onto his journal. Not feeling any sort of crinkled bills or the coolness of change. Yanking it out he reached over to his other pocket. Quickly feeling a few bucks within.

A smile spread across his face. The light over the snack machine flickered. As he jammed a slightly creased dollar into the slot. Clicking sounds followed and was back up with a few light thuds. Crouching down Arthur reached in the door less slot. Seems as though the push flap was busted off. Either way he grabbed the snacks he had chosen. Two bags of chips and a honey bun. As he was still crouched he shoved them into his jacket pockets. Always fearful someone would try to steal them. Since people always seemed to take from the scrawny man.

Finally, he made his way down the sidewalk. Soon he approach one of the slimmer alleyways. Hugging his notebook tight to his chest. Arthur took a few steps in the foggy area. Seeing a shopping cart next to a few massive boxes. The sight of that relieved him, clearing his throat lightly.

"M-May?! Oooo Maple!!?" The shaggy haired guy called out in a sweet tone.

This earned him a distant sigh as the boxes lightly shaked. First a bunch of unruly brown hair was seen. Then her entire small frame exited her box home. As she stood straight up next to her shopping cart. She sported her oversized jacket, torn up jeans, and very dirty converse. May had long wavy/curly hair. Surprisingly able to keep it somewhat tamed for living off the streets.

"It's just May, Arthur. Ya know, like the month." She said with a slight smile. As she fixed her jacket a tad.

A yawn escaped her lips as she raised a fist to her eye. Rubbing it gently as she was still waking up. The girl really cherished this friendship. He seemed to actually care and wanted to look after her. While everyone else around her treated her like a nuisance. Still, she always felt a bit embarrassed when he called her, Maple. Which he obviously knew and just loved to make her smile at least.

"C'mon you know why I call ya Maple. Because you always seem to prefer your…" His words trailed off as he reached into his pocket. "...Sweets!" Arthur exclaimed. Presenting her the honey bun he got from the machine.

The sweet toothed girl's eyes practically glowed. She met him halfway and snatched the delicious treat. May always got so excited when he brought her treats. The wrapping crinkled and caused a loud ruckus. As the small individual was about to tear open the packaging. However, she stopped and looked up at Arthur. "Arthur…I can't— I can't take this from you. You already have given me enough in the past."

He shook his head and smiled. "N-No, I'm perfectly fine. Plus you need to eat and keep your strength." His raspy voice comforted the girl. Very gently he placed a hand on her back. Giving her a sense of 'everything will be okay'. The tiny girl stared up at him and cracked another one of her bright smiles. They then both walked over to her box fort. Still feeling a bit bad for him spending his hard earned cash on her. She did her best not to think too much about her situation.. Shaking her negative thoughts away. The girl shifted gears and put on a genuine grin. Really wanting to give her friend a thing he truly needed. Some happiness, which she was proud to give him. So she turned the topic to something not saddening.

"Since we last spoke I made some improvements! You have to check this shit out!" She announced to her friend. Jamming the honey bun in her pocket for now.

Getting on her hands and knees, she crawled into the fort. Calling for Arthur to follow her in. He faintly chuckled as he got low to get in with her. Of course it was cramped and there wasn't any furniture. But she managed to find a flashlight to light up her cozy little home. May sat in the corner and carefully spread her arms out. In a 'ta-da' type of pose. Arthur sat a few inches from her and looked around. He did find it very cozy and comforting. The closed-out feel of her home brought a safe feeling. Arthur couldn't put his finger on it. Maybe it was the fact it just felt like they were in an entirely new place. A place where no one could get to them. So private and secluded from the harsh society. The more time passed, the more he happy he felt there.

"This is amazing Maple! Now I can share my jokes with you in secret." Arthur smirked playfully putting a finger over his lips. As if his jokes were supposed to be top secret. He moves over in a cautious manner. Sitting across from her, criss crossing his legs. Hunching over lightly as he opened up his journal. Sound of him flipping through the pages filled her fort. May smiled in a warm sort of fashion. Since she enjoyed hearing his passion with the jokes he told her. Whether they were funny to her or not. May just enjoyed watching him put on a little show. The girl felt the need to shift a bit too. Stretching out her legs, resting her feet in his lap as she leaned against the wall of her box fort. Digging out her honey bun once again. Opening up the plastic and peeling it down the glazed snack. Snuggling into her spot she lifted the sweet to her lips. Soon sinking her teeth into the spongy wonder. As Arthur began to share his new material to her.

#joker fanfiction #Joker fanfic #//usually never write so I hope yall like it okay!#//Thanks aclownthing for inspiring me!!!!!#Arthur Fleck #oc #frienship

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the-newsies-justice-for-zas-blog · 5 years

Note

Hey! For the sentence starters, can I request Misc. 11? If you want? I'm assuming you want a ship lmao so maybe Blush???? Idk do whatever lol, sorry this is really awkward lmao

A/N You’re not being annoying at all! Don’t worry this was really fun to write! I hope you enjoy it!

Genre: Fluff ig

Era: Modern

Ship: Blush - Blink x Mush

TW: None

Word Count: 1.2k

Mush was barely awake when his boyfriend, Blink, got up for work. With their cat Bella curled up asleep at the end of the bed, the fact that it was half 7 and Mush had a day off, he figured he would take full advantage.

Despite being mostly asleep, he was awake enough for it to register when Blink kissed his forehead and whispered, “Goodbye, love. Have a good day.”

The sound of the front door closing let him know that he was alone in the apartment. Well, apart from Bella.

He went back to sleep for a bit longer, then when he got too hot, he kicked the covers off and lay there in his pajama bottoms.

“Oof!” The air was knocked out of him when Bella jumped on his stomach and meowed in his face.

“Good morning to you too.” He groaned, feeling her claws digging into his skin.

Bella meowed again.

“You want food, don’t you?”

Meow

“I’ll take that as a yes.” He plucked Bella off his stomach and sat up. He swung his legs off the bed and got her food. He poured some into her food bowl and went back into the bedroom as she ate.

He grabbed one of his boyfriend’s hoodies from where it was in a crumpled heap at the end of the bed. He brushed some of the cat hair off and pulled it on. He couldn’t be bothered to zip it up.

He leant down, grabbed his laptop and a charger cable, then talked into the living room and sat down at the table.

He grabbed the remote and turned the TV on for some background noise. It came on to a shitty reality show, the one that Blink kept pretending he didn’t like.

He opened up Google Drive and started formatting the cue sheets for the latest production at the theatre he worked at. There was this new kid who tried to do it but messed up the formatting so Mush volunteered to do it on his day off. That, the props inventory and a few lighting sheets.

As he idled his way through the prop inventory, his eyes wandered over to the TV. The ad break had come on and an ad for window cleaner played.

He sighed, bored as hell and turning back to his laptop to do some more work, then the best thing happens.

The Cat Clothing Company proudly presents the new and improved Lion Onesie! Complete with mane, this onesie comes in three sizes! Order yours today at TheCatClothingCompany.com or you can find us on Amazon!

He gasped and looked down at Bella where she played with a length of orange wire. She chewed on the end as Mush says, “Oh my god! Bella! We have to get you one!! You’d look so adorable!” He put on a weird high-pitched voice and grinned.

He opened a new tab and goes onto Amazon. He typed ‘The Cat Clothing Company Lion Onesie’ into the search bar. It came up as the first item and he clicked on it.

“This is perfect!!” He said excitedly. He scrolled down and flicked through the pictures. He looked down at Bella, attempting to gauge what size she would be.

“I’m gonna go with medium.” He thought, clicking on ‘Medium’ and then on ‘One-Tap Buy’.

Instead of sitting and waiting for the web page to load, he dashed to get his credit card. He punched in the numbers on his card and presses save.

His cursor hovered over buy for a few seconds, just debating whether or not it was a good idea...’I’ve spent money on worse things before...and besides, it’s a freaking cat onesie!! This is a great idea! I’m a genius I swear!’

He clicked buy and sat back in his chair, hands behind his head, sighing contentedly.

He marvelled at his work for a little while until he couldn’t ignore the rumbling in his stomach any longer.

“Oh shit, I haven’t eaten anything yet...” He jumped up and slid over to the kitchen on an old t-shirt that was on the floor for some reason. He made himself some food, grabbed and put it on a plate and slid back over to the table.

He put it down next to his laptop and resumed doing his work.

He finished it about 2 hours later and had the rest of the day to himself. Well, him and Bella.

He tidied up the apartment a bit, cleaned his plate and put it away. Then flopped down on the sofa and spent the rest of the day waiting for the package and surfing through Netflix, before settling down to watch as much of Stranger Things as he could. Blink kept telling his to watch it, but it never got his attention.

He had just finished Season 1, deciding that it had definitely caught his attention, and there was a knock at the door.

He answered it and it was a man holding a package. He was asked to sign for it and the man went on his way.

He felt the weight and when he realised what it was, he kissed the box!

“Oh thank god for one-day delivery!!”

Bella sensed something was up and ran out of the room.

20 minutes later and he’d managed to catch Bella and get the onesie and mane on her. He’d caught her in the bedroom, on their bed, and as soon as he got it on her, she ran out into the living room.

Mush scooted off the bed and fixed the covers when he heard the front door open and someone shout.

“Is the cat in a onesie?” The voice shouted, it was obviously Blink.

“Uh...no?” He shouted back. He heard a couple of meows and came into the living room, slightly hesitantly.

He entered the living to see Blink, bag on the floor, Bella in his arms. Mush got a sudden, unexpected and highly unwanted rush of anxiety.

‘Shit this was a bad idea. A very bad idea. He must think this is so freaking stupid. I’ve just wasted $10. Crap...’

“Oh my god! Bella’s so adorable in this!! She’s our little lioness!!” Blink said, breaking the silence and the mounting tension.

“Oh thank god!” Mush breathed a sigh of relief, a smile spreading across his face.

“What?”

“I’m just glad you don’t think it’s a waste of money!” He mumbled shyly.

“Hell no! I’m just surprised I didn’t think of it before!” Blink exclaimed, reassuring Mush that it was a good idea.

“I swear to god this is the best thing I’ve ever bought!” He proclaimed with new-found confidence.

“It most certainly is.” Blink said, still stroking Bella.

“Oooo gimme a sec!” Mush had got an idea. He ran over to the table and grabbed his phone.

Blink, getting the picture, lifted Bella up. Lion King style.

“These are amazing!” Blink said, as Mush flicked through the pictures in his gallery of Blink and Bella.

“I’m so posting these!” He uploaded them to the Instagram account that they’d made for Bella and they got likes and comments within 2 minutes:

RacetrackH69: OH MY GOD! @SpotC420 WE HAVE TO BABE!

SpotC420: That is pretty adorable. Good going Mushy and Blinker

Alboooot: Y’all are too much i stg

CuteAsAButton: OH MY GAH!!!! THIS IS TOO MUCH!!!! PLEASE CAN I COME OVER AND STEAL YOUR CAT!?!?!?!

DaveyJacobs: Why is your cat in a onesie?

A/N Wow...there you go! I hope you liked that! Please like and reblog, but most importantly...have an amazing day y’all!

#newsies fic #newsies #newsies fanfic #newsies fanfiction #mush newsies #newsies mush #blink newsies #newsies blink #albert newsies #newsies albert #race newsies #newsies race #racetrack newsies #racetrack higgins #modern era fic #blush newsies #newsies blush #ginger writes #newsies prompts

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happiestholland-blog · 6 years

Text

Coffee Shop Chapter 3

Fuckboy Tom AU!! TomHollandxReader

Summary: You and Tom meet again, just a little change in environment :-)

Word Count: 4199

Warnings: Swearing, mostly fluff, a little angst.

A/N: YAYYY finally lol. This is the longest part I’ve done so far, and I apologize for the wait. It ends a little weird, but I promise I have this going in the direction i want. THE NEXT PART IS ABOUT TO BE SO GOOD. I AM SO E X C I T E D. I’m about to start a tag list!!! Message me to be tagged!

Rain, rain, rain. That’s all the weather has been like for the last four days. The city has been plagued with massive puddles resembling small lakes, and the air is bitingly cold. It’s a miracle that with the cold temperatures, you haven’t been trapped in your apartment building by what could’ve and maybe should’ve been a blizzard. And if it had been a blizzard, you wouldn’t have been able to see Tom at the coffee shop for what became a part of both of your daily routines over the last week. The rain hasn’t stopped either of you from meeting each other, which makes your stomach knot in the best way. He was willing to see you everyday despite the awfully shitty weather. You feel kind of silly, hinging the fact that he maybe, just might, be happy to see you everyday as you are as happy to see him, based off the fact that every day you shared a coffee or tea or two together before carrying on with the rest of your day. But you felt especially silly, since you still hadn’t exchanged numbers or even told each other your last names. You always meant to ask him for his number, much less his last name, but whenever you two began to talk, it would always slip your mind, and you wouldn’t remember.

Today’s weather was a small improvement from the previous days. There was a light mist over the city. The air was still bitingly cold, but of course, that wouldn’t stop you. You pulled on a long sleeved t-shirt, a sweater, a pair of comfortable jeans, your rain boots, and braided your hair sloppily over a shoulder. The coffee shop’s atmosphere was always warm, so you didn’t bother with one of your bulkier coats before leaving. The shop was only a short block away from your building and as usual, you weren’t planning on staying out afterwards either.

You usually got to the cafe before Tom did, so in order to busy yourself, you usually helped Ms. Phillips stock coffee bean bags, travel mugs, and other merchandise in the shop’s shelves, wiping tables down, and made sure the magazines scattered throughout the shop were current and up to date. These were small favors you usually did which Ms. Phillips sometimes paid you back for with free drinks and coupons. She often teased you about Tom, about how handsome he was, and how you both probably had a huge crush on each other, but every time, you deny it, giving you a weird sinking and terrifying, yet floating feeling because maybe she might be right. After all, she is old enough to have seen it all. But it’s impossible. Tom was… something else; sweet and kind, and not to mention gorgeous, and you almost forget that you’ve been hurt in the past and that titles and love are actually terrifying, but he’s definitely out of your league. You see how women look at him from outside the window as they pass the coffee shop window and as they buy their drinks. Ms. Phillips has even warned you before that he could have a side you could’ve never imagined. Whatever happens, happens, you think to yourself. But you’re not about to lose your mind over this. But you still find yourself lost in your thoughts as you finish wiping a table down before taking a seat at your own usual spot in the corner. You just pull out a pen and colored pencils, as the door chime jingles and Tom bustles his way in, an unopened umbrella hanging from one of his wrists, both hands lodged in his coat pockets.

“(Y/N), Hi,” Tom greets you, still breathless from the cold. He takes some time to hang both his coat and umbrella from the back of his chair before taking a seat.

“Hey Tom,” you smile.

“What, no drinks today?” he teases, noticing that you didn’t have your usual mug of green tea or coffee before you today.

You shake your head with a smile. “Nah. I just helped the owner, Ms. Phillips with some chores and stuff today, so I haven’t found the time yet.”

He gets back to his feet. “Well that’s good news because I probably owe you a drink or two anyway. My treat,” he says with a shy smile. “Green tea or coffee today?”

“Oooo, you big spender,” you laugh, borrowing his little joke from your second time meeting. “I’ll go for a coffee today, thank you, Tom.”

He snorts a laugh. “Hey, you deserve it, (Y/N). I got you.” Pulling his wallet from his back pocket, he makes his way into the crowded line, which gives you time to study him.

Tom’s wearing a beanie today, little brown curls sticking out from underneath it. He’s wearing a black hoodie over blue jeans with a pair of Doc Martens boots. His hands look rough and calloused from here, but you know from sitting in front of him every morning that though calloused, their movements are gentle and light. He’s rough looking despite his sweet personality. In fact, he looks exactly like the type of guy you knew to avoid. Just by standing there in line, he had gained not just your attention, but the attention of half of the other women sitting in the coffee shop with you. But that doesn’t seem to bother him at all, much less capture his attention. Your eyes travel from his hands back to his face, and feel your cheeks flush in embarrassment when he catches your eye.

Now, Tom is no stranger to catching women’s eyes on him in public; whether it be from recognition from his role as Spider-man or simply because he was good looking. But when he caught your eye, his heart did a flip flop. You were dressed simply today. You didn’t do much to your physical appearance to call attention to yourself, and yet here you were taking all of his. His eyes locked on yours, and your skin is tinged pink in embarrassment, but you smile sweetly and return your gaze back to your notebook. He’s not going to fall for you, he won’t, he reminds himself. He finishes paying for your drinks and slowly makes his way back to your table, careful not to make any spills.

He pulls his beanie off his head and shakes his messy curly hair out with a hand. “So, I’ve been forgetting to ask, but have you gotten any sleep lately?” he asks, aware that you used to never get any sleep due to your obnoxious neighbor living a floor up from you.

You sip your drink, savoring the warm feeling that fills you. “I did actually. He’s been quiet lately, thank god,” you reply, setting your mug down.

He nods. “That’s great, it’s good to know you’re finally getting to sleep.”

“Yeah,” you agree with a smile. “Thanks to him, I haven’t binge watched anything on netflix in a while.”

Tom smirks. “You know, I don’t know if you’re saying that as if it’s a good or bad thing or not.”

“Now that you say that, I’m not too sure about it myself,” you laugh.

At this point, Tom’s breathing gets lodged in his throat again. Your laugh. It literally lifts his stress away, but he can’t have that. He doesn’t want to feel that floating feeling. It made him vulnerable. He can’t stand looking at you without his heart flipping in his chest, and here, at your usual spot in the shop, he has no choice but to keep his gaze on you as you both speak, or be a complete asshole and stare out the window. And both were non-options. If he kept sitting here, focusing on only looking at your pretty face and listening to your soft voice, he knew he start feeling like maybe he should let himself fall a little. A non-option. But being an asshole was also a no-go. You didn’t deserve to think he didn’t care, you were too kind to him for him to do that.

“Hey, (Y/N)?”

“Mhm?” you hum, sipping your drink.

“Would you care for a walk?” Tom asks. At least this way, if they were to walk side by side, he wouldn’t feel obligated to look at you in the face as you walked; there are plenty of things to look at on a walk. “You know, for a change in environment?” he adds, for cover.

There’s a look of hesitation on your face. “What’s wrong with the shop?” you quickly tease, to hide your apprehension.

Tom shakes his head. “Nothing. It’s lovely. But you know, a change in environment?” he repeats sheepishly. He’s never been this bad with words before, and his ideas being rejected or questioned wasn’t a common thing that happened to him. His nerves probably weren’t doing him any good either. Since when did he ever feel nervous about talking to girls? He knew that was dangerous. If he’s nervous about someone, that means he cares about their opinion of him.

You drain the rest of your drink in a few quick gulps and put your notebook away.

Tom smiles. “So is that a yes?”

“I don’t know, Tom. It’s not that I don’t want to go…” you begin.

He shakes his head, a victorious little smile tugging at the corner of his lips, knowing that you were about to give in.

“But fine, I guess we can use a little ‘change in environment’”, you roll your eyes playfully as you air quote his words.

Tom’s smile blooms all the way across his face, and he drains his mug as well. “Thank you. Let’s get going.”

You slip your arms into your coat and pick up your backpack, and head out. As soon as you step out the coffeeshop doors, you remember the freezing forty degree weather and that you didn’t bother dressing very warmly. A cold breeze sends a shiver down your spine, and you clench your teeth to keep them from chattering, pulling the hood of your thin coat up.

“Tom?” you pause on the sidewalk.

“Yeah?”

You stuff your hands into your thin coat pockets, your fingers already a bright red from the cold. “I didn’t exactly dress for the occasion.”

Tom does a quick once over, noticing your thin coat. He tries his hardest not to wince. He couldn’t stay cooped up with you at the shop. Looking at you for too long, even now, was difficult for him. Anything, literally anything, would better than accidentally falling for you if you made him laugh one more time while stuck looking at you. He knows that what he’s about to do is dumb for him and his pact to himself, but he takes his coat off and hands it to you.

Your eyes widen at the gesture. “Tom, I can’t take that. I’d leave you cold, and I’d feel awful about it.”

For fuck’s sake, Tom thinks to himself. Everything you do is so soft and caring and considerate of him without you meaning to do so. He almost wishes you weren’t so easily likable. But your kindness... It’s like second nature to you. “If you don’t, you’ll freeze,” he says quietly.

You shrug, a pained smile crossing your face. You didn’t want to waste time by going home and grabbing something more weather appropriate. You knew Tom was busy whenever he wasn’t with you.

Tom groans. “Don’t act like it’s not a big deal. You can borrow my jumper.” He pulls the hoodie he was wearing underneath his coat over his head, handing it to you. It should be heavy enough to keep you warm, with the sweater you were already wearing, and the thin coat you had brought along.

“You’re gonna be the death of me, Tom,” you say under your breath, but there’s a touch of playfulness in your tone.

He shrugs. “I’ll take the blame… But wait, why would I be the death of you, if you’re the one who forgot to dress warm enough?” Tom can’t help but laugh.

You pause, looking at him. “You know, you got me there, so maybe I’ll be the death of you,” and your lips pull into a slight cringe.

“Just put the damn jumper on, (Y/N),” Tom shook his head between a smile. Tom watches as you pull his hoodie on. You’re right. You will be the death of him. The jumper is a lot bigger on you than it was on him, and its sleeves pool over your hands and its hem settles mid thigh.

Yes, this is definitely a mistake, Tom thought to himself as you pull your coat on over his jumper. You looked adorable with the excess thick black fabric of his jumper overflowing over your hands and out the bottom of your coat. He liked the look of his clothing on you more than he ever could’ve imagined, and when you looked up to him to thank him, he wanted to turn and run in the direction of his apartment building, just out of pure confusion and fright from what he was feeling, but at the same time, he couldn’t; not because he didn’t want to look bad to you, but because he wanted to be around you. You looked goofy, but your sweet smile could evaporate the massive puddles of rain water lining the city streets. He’s at a loss for words, looking at you.

Tom never would’ve thought he’d let a girl borrow his clothing. It invited them to get closer to him... Gave them a reason to think that they meant something to him. To not lend his clothing to any girl for any reason at all, is a rule of his game he hadn’t broken since he started living the life he currently lives. His heart is flooded with his mixed feelings; so torn between wanting you to fall for him and needing to keep his distance. He had been catching your stares more and more often and your embarrassed smiles and flushed cheeks were the most endearing thing he’d ever seen and it was a good boost to his confidence. Being with you was peaceful and relaxing, unlike the turbulence he encountered in his everyday life as Tom Holland. But even though nothing you’ve done shows that you’ll disappear out of nowhere, putting his trust in you, or anyone for that matter, is terrifying. But for the first time in a really long time, he almost feels like he wants to belong with someone… That someone being you.

He realizes that he’s been staring at you, and you’ve been staring back the entire time, and he shakes his head.

“I look stupid, I know,” you laugh.

“It’s quite the opposite. Don’t worry, (Y/N),” Tom replies, looking away.

“Whatever you say.” You quip, and you tuck a strand of hair behind your ear and Tom slides a pair of sunglasses on as you both make your way down the sidewalk, between the bustling people. “So where to, Tom?” you ask.

“There’s a few places we can go to,” he replied. “But first, the grocery store.” Honestly, he wasn’t sure where to take you, but he’s seen several people go to the park just to feed ducks at the duck pond. He figured that would be enough.

“The grocery store?” you look at him, inquisitively.

“Mhm,” Tom nods.

“Any particular reason why?” you ask, trying to keep up with Tom’s long strided walk.

He makes a turn down into a street where the low profile bodega he usually frequented sat.

“Well yeah,” Tom says, a small shy smile tugging at his lips. “Ever fed ducks at the pond in the park?” He usually didn’t feel this bashful around women. It was weird.

A smile grows on your face. “Well yeah,” you imitate Tom’s tone. “But people usually don’t do that in this weather. What there aren’t any there?”

“We’re just going to have to hope we’re lucky,” Tom replies. He pulls the grocery store door open, allowing you in first. The door shut behind him as he followed you in, sealing the two of you in sudden warmth after walking in the cold and strange lighting from the fluorescent lights with the grey sunshine pouring in from the windows. He picks up a small can of instant oats for the ducks and a few snacks for himself. “Want anything?” he looks to you.

You pick up a bag of gummy bears and a rice krispy treat. “I got it, thank you anyway, Tom.”

He shakes his head. “Nope. This entire thing was my idea, so I provide the provisions,” he declares. He looks at your sugary snack selection. “Sweet tooth?” he asks.

“Maybe a little,” you admit.

He smiles. A sweet tooth to match your overly sweet personality. It’s only fitting. “Compromise? We’ll take turns with this treating the other deal, alright?” He reaches for your snacks.

“Fine,” you submit. “My turn next time, okay?”

“Done.” He replies.

You crack a stupid smile, pointing at the can of oats in his arms. “I guess you can say, oats a deal,” you bite your lip, trying not to laugh.

“You did not just say that,” he groans, but he can’t help but smile at your stupid pun. “That was the worst pun in history.”

“I believe I did,” you reply in a fit of giggles.

He shakes his head, unable to get rid of his own smile. “You’re not funny, (Y/N).”

“Oh come on, Tom. You oat-ta learn to take a joke,” you say, snorting when you can’t contain your laughter.

“Did you just snort?”

“Maybe I did!”

By now, Tom’s smile is fully plastered across his face. “You think you’re so hilarious.” If you weren’t laughing so hard at your own joke, Tom probably wouldn’t have laughed at all, but your laugh is contagious. A red flag goes up in his head, blaring his alarms. What made you happy, made him happy. This happiness is so new. It feels good, and he hits snooze on those alarms.

You snort again. “You’re right. I do.”

"I’m not confirming that or negating that statement,” he replies.

You raise your eyebrows. “Oh please. You know it’s hilarious. You wouldn’t be laughing right now if you didn’t.”

“That’s questionable.”

“You know it.”

“Okay, (Y/N),” Tom shakes his head, his cheeks aching from his massive

He brings your items to the counter and pays. With your items in a plastic bag, you both make your way to the park, talking as you went. Despite your joking and light exchange at the bodega and only a week of knowing him, you knew your boundaries. Tom didn’t mention his work as an extra very often, his hometown or his family; when he did, he usually left out titles, places, and names, but today, you learned that he was one of four brothers, two of them being twins, two years younger, a youngest brother, being eight years younger than Tom.

“Your poor mother,” you joke.

He shrugs. “She kept us in line.”

He doesn’t say much about them after that, and you don’t press him for details. You feel like there’s more to the story that he’s withholding from you. He obviously still cares about his family. He speaks about them nostalgically, but they’re obviously not a part of his life at the present moment and you figure that when the time comes, and when he’s comfortable, he’ll tell you more. B you found you had more in common than you thought. You both find yourselves easily talking about your favorite music, TV shows, both of your theories on the universe, your strange obsession for instant ramen noodles, and who you think will win the World Cup coming up.

You basically covered a whole two days’ worth of topics on the walk to the park, without the random pauses that came with trying to cool and sip a hot drink. When you get there, you see that you’re in luck. Though the weather is quite honestly gross and pretty cold, the pond is occupied by fifteen or so ducks. Besides the few people who stream past you and the man playing a saxophone under a footbridge a little further up the path, evidently no one had the same idea Tom had for the day.

Tom unlooped the plastic bag’s handles from his wrist and hands you the small cardboard container of instant oats. “Would you like to do the first honor?” he asks, in a rather grandiose manner.

“Oh, why of course I would!” You tug the lid off the can and grab a small handful of oats and you toss it into the water for the ducks to snack at, and they come flocking. “So what made you think today would be a good day to feed ducks?” you ask out of the blue.

Tom isn’t facing you at that very moment, and he’s thanking whatever god is up there watching out for him. If he were looking at you, you’d be able to see clear as day that he was making up whatever he was gonna say. He didn’t think today would be a day for anything. But here he was. “I just thought a change in environment and routine would be a good thing, you know?” He repeats what he said back in the coffee shop.

“I guess,” you reply, tossing another handful of oats for the ducks.

You guess? Tom’s heart rate started to rise. “Um, there’s an art museum nearby and bunch of food carts. You know, for when we run out of oats. Or get hungry”

“What art museum?” You ask, intrigued.

“The Metropolitan Museum of Art, why?” he asks, he turns to look at you.

You shrug. “I’ve been meaning to go, but I haven’t yet.”

Tom finally brings his eyes to yours. “Wait, I thought you liked art and painting and stuff. Haven’t you lived in the city for a few years now?”

“Well, yeah… I guess I never found the time to go,” you shrug again.

“Would you want to go today?” Tom asked, putting his cold hands in his pockets to hide the fact that his hands were shaking from nerves.

Your eyes widen in surprise. “You want to go?”

Tom shrugs. “Yeah, if you want to.”

“Would it be bad if I kinda want to?”

“I offered it, so no,” Tom says with a smirk. “So yes?”

“Yes, you goof. Stop smirking at me,” you toss a handful of oats at him.

“Did you just throw oats at me?” Tom looks at you in amused disbelief.

You laugh. “They didn’t throw themselves did they?” Suddenly, all the ducks from the pond came flying out of the water and pecking at the ground surrounding Tom.

Tom grunts expletives under his breath, trying to avoid stepping on an unlucky duck. “You know, (Y/N), not trying to start my day covered in duck shit,” he says sassily but still wearing a smile.

You’re laughing the entire time. “I didn’t see that coming, I’m so sorry Tom!”

He shakes his head, dusting oat crumbs from his hands and coat. “I’ll get back at you. Don’t know how yet, but count on it.” He tries to make himself seem threatening, but he can’t stop smiling.

“Okay Tom, whatever you say,” you laugh, capping the container of oats and slipping it into your backpack. “So which way are we going?”

Tom points to your left. “Down that way to Fifth Avenue.”

“Have I mentioned how excited I am?”

“No, but I can tell, don’t worry,” Tom replies, smiling.

“How?” You challenge him.

He shrugs. “You have a bit more pep in your step. Your voice just pitched upwards.” Your excitement is adorable and one of your best qualities, he decides.

You both stroll along the side of the museum, looking out for the iconic Met steps and main entrance.

As you pass the fountains off to the side of the steps, you feel your excitement growing. “I feel like I’m in Gossip Girl or in some rom com,” you say happily, pulling your phone out of your coat pocket to take pictures of the museum’s massive entrance, completely mesmerized by the building’s facade and detailed architecture.

Your wonder is so refreshing to Tom. He was used to high snobbery that came with being a celebrity and being around people who thought it wasn’t cool to look enthused by anything. You’re literally a breath of fresh air to him, which in itself was ironic. While you were so refreshing to be around, you stole the air from his lungs. It was like being submerged in a submarine. He should trust that he’s safe within your walls, but at the same time, the weight and pressure of his past constantly threatened to crush him.

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