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kyotarou · 3 years

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title: a little more noise

pairing: kyōtani kentarō x gn!reader

synopsis: in a world of constant silence, he’s the noise you need in life, even if he’s a bit quiet.

warnings: fluff, angst, mutual pining, slowburn, strangers to friends to lovers, lotta tropes and cliches, two swear words if i counted correctly

word count: 4.8k+

a/n: i wrote this in two days which i’m very proud of, go me! always wanted to write a kyōken fic and here it is. kinda scared to post this bc he’s quite tough to characterize imo and i’m terrible at writing longer pieces. oh well :,) no indentation because that’d be such a pain. hope you like it, feedback is always appreciated! (this is also my first time writing slowburn so please lmk if it’s still too fast)

Your parents were not bad people—that was a fact. They were kind, and you did everything an ordinary family would; eat dinner together, go on trips, attend school events. Things were quiet, a little too quiet for comfort. It never felt… right. You heard stories of parents arguing, nasty divorces, and custody battles. They tore your friends apart, made them feel a pain you could never understand. You knew how terrible it was, yet sometimes you wished you went through that to fill the silence in your home. The same monotonous, “good mornings,” and “hellos,” became sickening to hear. You told yourself to push on until after graduation where you’d escape. As the years dragged on, you weren’t so sure you could keep your sanity intact.

It was how you met Kyōtani Kentarō, a second-year from your school who was in a different class. Your friend told you of a gym nearby that was secluded at night. With a sly grin, he said he met up with students from other schools to smoke, and sometimes as a hookup spot. You wrinkled your nose at his comment and flicked his forehead. These were the people you hung out with; not so bright, but easygoing and fun. They were the ones who satisfied the need for noise, the bit of excitement in your life.

You snuck out after your parents had gone to bed. It didn’t hit until halfway through your walk that several things could happen. You were alone with nothing to defend yourself with except your phone and bare hands. Looking down at your outfit, an old dark hoodie and some sweats, you hoped it was ominous enough to ward people away. Besides, the last thing you wanted was to go home and wallow in its emptiness.

To see the lights on in the gym was a surprise. Upon closer inspection, you heard the squeaking of shoes and the cannon-like sounds of balls slamming the floor. You peeked your head through the door. The only person inside was a boy, no older than you. The first thing you noticed was his oddly dyed hair which resembled a tennis ball. The second was his piercing gaze as he turned his head and stared at you. You jumped. He looked as though he was going to charge at you. Instead, the boy huffed, walked to the other side of the gym, and picked up the ball. You spotted a familiar white and blue jacket on the ground.

“Seijoh?”

The boy turned to you again. “Yeah.” His voice was low, but powerful enough to rumble the earth.

You swallowed. “I go there, too.” This was a waste of time, you thought. You should’ve gone home, and you almost did until he spoke again.

“Never seen you before.”

The ball flew into the air with the boy tailing it. His body bent in a way you didn’t think was possible, face pinched in concentration. It hit his hand then the ground with the loudest smacks you had ever heard. It was incredible, but also scary. He picked up another ball behind him and did the same, and again, and again, until his side was empty and yours was strewn with several blue and yellow volleyballs. The more you watched, the more mesmerized you became.

“Can I stay?” You felt stupid for asking, but if he was trying to concentrate, you didn’t want to disturb him. Surprisingly, he nodded. You sank to the floor with your knees to your chest and listened to the constant thwacks and smacks all night.

You only learned his name a little while after. It was by accident. You were walking by a group of boys at school when one of them called him Mad Dog-chan, and you bit your lip to stop your laughter. Luckily, they didn’t notice. It was kind of cute the more you thought about it. It fit his appearance quite well, too. That night, you found him at the gym once again. Instead of a curt nod, you waved.

“Hey, Mad Dog-chan!”

You immediately regretted your words when he stopped bouncing the ball and flashed you a murderous look. You muttered a hurried apology and sat on the floor in your usual spot. He whacked a ball a couple of times then came over to grab his water bottle. After a few quick gulps, you expected him to get back on the court, but he stared at the spot beside you.

“It’s Kyōtani. Kyōtani Kentarō.”

Some nights, he didn’t practice. You sat in a playground nearby with soda and snacks from home. Originally, they were meant to replenish his energy when he overworked himself. Now, you were the one eating most of them, with Kyōtani nibbling on a custard bun as you wolfed down chip bag after chip bag. One thing you could say with confidence was Kyōtani was a great listener. At first, you sat in awkward silence. Then, you started rattling off all the things you did that day. It led to you talking about anything and everything, including the funny-looking dog you saw on the street last week. You hoped he didn’t think he reminded you of it.

Talking to Kyōtani was equivalent to talking to a wall. If anything, you were talking at him. He barely looked your way, and if you asked a question, he responded with a grunt or a simple, “Yeah.” Even though you wished it was two-sided, it felt good. You could finally break the silence that shrouded you for years, something you yearned to do but never had the confidence to. With Kyōtani, because of how quiet he was, you felt you could say anything without judgment. You did this for a while, rambling to him in the playground while he sat and listened.

Together, you sat on the swings with fruit sandwiches you made earlier that day. Your feet dragged against the sand and dirt as you swung back and forth. It seemed like Kyōtani enjoyed it. You noticed him eyeing your sandwich while licking his lips. You laughed and handed the rest to him. You started your daily tangent; woke up, ate a meat bun for breakfast, went to school, did homework, then came here. Somewhere along the way, you mentioned how you were home alone since your parents had lots of meetings to attend. You wished it was a little more lively. It was why you left the house every night, to find some noise in the suffocating void of it all.

You talked some more about your family, which you never did. You were too distracted to see Kyōtani’s head perk up. He stopped munching on the fruit sandwich and leaned forward, trying to look at your face. You continued to ramble, feeling your irritation slowly rise.

“Am I a bad person? I mean, they’re really nice, and I adore them. But it’s unbearable sometimes, and then I end up feeling like an asshole.”

You let out a dry laugh, ignoring the pain of the metal chains holding up the swing as they dug into your palms. You pressed your lips together in a thin line, unsure of what to say next. You chose to draw circles in the sand with the tip of your shoe.

“I understand how you feel.”

You looked at Kyōtani in surprise. You waited for him to say more, but he didn’t. The night felt a little brighter.

The last thing your “friends” expected was for you to ditch them for him. “Looks like a tennis ball,” one of them said. You chuckled since it was your exact thought when you first met him. You were relieved but also disheartened when they didn’t seem to mind too much. At least you knew where they stood.

Hanging out with Kyōtani was much different compared to your nights at the gym or the playground. You got lots of stares from the third-years who never thought he could behave like this. Some people in your class whispered about the two lone-wolves banding together. You pretended not to hear.

“You’ve been cheery lately.”

You stared at your mother, trying to process her words. They never asked about you, which you grew to appreciate. It meant not having to force out a conversation. You almost brushed it aside until she spoke again. Your chin rested in your palm as you picked the vegetables on your plate, stomach full with snacks.

“I met a new friend.”

Your mother raised her brows, impressed. “Oh? Tell me about him.”

“How do you know he’s a boy?”

“Just a hunch.”

You sighed, continuing to stir your food. “He’s quiet. A little weird, but he’s nice. I can talk to him about anything.”

“That’s good.”

Your father glanced at her, and she shot him a strange look. Don’t, it said. He backed off and ate as if nothing happened.

You managed to weave yourself with the other boys from the volleyball team. They were a scary bunch at first, most of them glaring at Kyōtani the moment he walked through the door, but they were nice to you. He had left his jacket at the playground one night, and you made a mental note to return it to him the next day. Except, like Kyōtani, you also forgot about it. When you saw the boys flood to the gym for practice, you raced home then back to school and shyly followed a group of girls to the gym who were there to gawk at the captain.

During their break, you nervously approached Kyōtani and poked his shoulder. They watched you return his jacket but didn’t expect his, “Thank you,” afterward. When you left, Oikawa bugged him to invite you back. Kyōtani shrugged. He usually ignored him at all costs. Oikawa took it as a good sign.

Hanging out with them was a lot more fun than you anticipated. They were better than your previous friends, and even though most of them didn’t like Kyōtani, they seemed to be warming up. Your favorite moment was the movie night at Oikawa’s house. The living room was packed, with little room to wiggle, but it was comfortable. That night, you laughed so hard your stomach hurt, and the tensions between you, Kyōtani, and the rest of the boys dissolved. You belonged here.

Yahaba caught him staring at you outside your classroom. You sat across from another classmate, helping her with a few assignments for her art class. You posed and let her take pictures. Some were silly, but the others captured your features perfectly. In one of them, you rested your cheek in your palm with the tip of your pencil wedged between your teeth. You looked at the camera through your lashes as your classmate continued to snap more shots.

“Cool it.” Yahaba clapped him on the shoulder.

“I’m not jealous.”

“Never said you were.”

You helped your classmate pack her things. While you followed her out the door, she twirled a lock of hair around her finger and fiddled with the hem of her skirt. You bid her goodbye as her friends called her over, then turned to Kyōtani and Yahaba.

“Ready to go?”

Yahaba nodded, as did Kyōtani. You walked ahead of them, listing off that day’s menu. Behind you, Kyōtani’s eyes zeroed in on your moving form, the shift of your hips as you took each step. From an outsider’s perspective, it looked like he was honing in on a kill. Yahaba prodded his arm.

“Don’t be a pervert.”

You swore you heard a slap.

Friday after school, your parents were home from work much earlier than anticipated. A game show played on the television. They barely noticed your arrival until you called out. The TV turned off, and your mother looked over the back of the sofa with a wry smile. Your father drummed his fingers on the arm of the sofa. His eyes stayed glued to the empty screen.

“Welcome back,” your mother greeted. She glanced at the boxes in the kitchen, filled with old plates and cutlery you hadn’t touched in a while. You assumed they were throwing them out.

“So…” she drawled. “What do you think of Tokyo?”

“Tokyo?”

Your hands shook as you set your school bag down on the kitchen table. The boxes made more sense. You remembered your father talking about a school his friend’s son attended. Nekoma, was it? He told you how great it was there, that it’d be easy to make friends in such a populated area.

“Tokyo…” you repeated. A heavy lump formed in your throat. “It seems… nice. Why do you ask?” You couldn’t stop the waver in your voice. Your mother caught on too.

“Dad’s company moved areas. It’s a big shift, but it’s too good to lose. So-”

“We’re moving.”

“I didn’t say that.”

“But you were about to.”

Your head hung over the table. There was a crushing weight in your chest. Of course they wouldn’t tell you. They never did. It was too much to not expect this betrayal. If you told them how happy you were at Seijoh, maybe things would’ve been different. I could’ve prevented this. You shook your head. You couldn’t stop an entire company from moving, nor could you convince your father to find a new job in Miyagi. You had to follow them like you always did.

“If we can stay, we will, but most likely-”

“I’ll start packing.”

You grabbed your school bag and stomped to your room, vision obscured by your tears. Why now? Why did it have to be when you were starting to fit in, when you found real friends who made you happier than ever? Just when things looked like they were turning around, you were back at square one. You’d be there for a while, stuck in a new city far away from Seijoh. If you were with your old group, you wouldn’t have been this upset. But to not see them again—Yahaba, Hanamaki, even Oikawa.

You opened your phone and stared at the lock screen: a picture of you and Kentarō from the movie night at Oikawa’s. His arm was slung over your shoulder, a scowl on his face, but the peace sign he held up made it worth it. You remembered taking it and everyone gasping that Kentarō would even allow anyone to take a picture of him, let alone save it. Your heart fluttered. When did he stop being Kyōtani and become Kentarō?

Kentarō faced the empty playground. He sat in the right swing as he always did, scanning the area for any sign of you. In his hand was his attempt at a fruit sandwich, messily covered in cellophane with whipped cream oozing between the bread. A bandaid wrapped the tip of his finger where he accidentally cut himself. Damn those strawberries.

Kentarō kicked at the dirt. He waited, and waited some more, but after twenty minutes, you didn’t show. He pulled out his phone and sent you a quick text. Your absence made his skin crawl. His phone lit up with a response. Sorry, was all you said.

He couldn’t shake the heaviness as he trudged home.

The view outside the window gave you an excuse to be distracted. The voices of the boys were loud, but you chose to focus on the birds circling the courtyard. Two of them swooped down and landed on the thick branch of an old tree. They ruffled their feathers and nuzzled their beaks. You saw your old friends walk out of the main building. The one who introduced you to the gym glanced up. His eyes met yours momentarily. He went back to talking to someone you didn’t recognize and led them to the other side of the campus.

You stared out the window until Mattsun shook your shoulder. You turned and put on a faux smile. Your classwork was still strewn across your desk even though it was lunch. A few drops of chili sauce had landed on your math homework. You scowled at Hanamaki, his face stuffed with food.

“Oops.”

You wiped it off with an eye roll then stuffed it into your bag along with your other notebooks.

“What’s buggin’ ya?” Mattsun asked.

You shrugged. “Nothing. I’m ready for the day to end.” It was the last thing you wanted. There was a bit of time before you left for Tokyo, but the countdown moved fast. You ignored Mattsun’s opposing look and ate. They couldn’t know yet.

Kentarō knew there was more than what met the eye, but he bit his tongue. He was paranoid, he told himself. The guilty look on your face as the boys laughed, unaware of the shift in attitude, said otherwise. He threw his arm over the back of your chair. You relaxed, but the sad look remained. Remembering the fruit sandwich he made, Kentarō grabbed it from his bag and slid it across your desk. You raised your brows.

“What’s this?”

“I made it.”

You unwrapped the sticky mess of whipped cream and strawberry jam. Kentarō watched you take a small bite, followed by a bigger one.

“This is delicious!”

He showed you the tip of his finger. “The price I paid for it.”

Your knees knocked against his under your desk. He flinched. You pressed your finger to your lips, then to the bandaid. “Thank you. Hope it feels better.”

Your cheeks swelled as you took more bites than you could chew. Pink syrup stuck to the corner of your mouth. Cute, Kentarō thought.

“What was that?” you mumbled. A crumb lodged itself in your throat. Mattsun rushed over and slapped you so hard on the back it echoed. A handful of other students looked over. Hanamaki scolded you for gulping down your bottle of water without taking any breaths. Kentarō cheeks turned a darker shade than the strawberries when you gripped his arm for support. You didn’t ask again.

“Cute,” he whispered anyway. He knew you wouldn’t hear over Mattsun’s teasing. “You’re cute.”

Kentarō invited you to the movies. He planned on having it at home, but his parents occupied the TV, and his laptop was too small to enjoy anything. He met you at a plaza a walking distance’s away. He let you pick the movie, curious about your tastes. Action? Romcom? When he looked at his ticket, it was for the latest horror movie. Critics raved about it, calling it the best of the decade. Impressive.

The movie started a while ago. The critics were right, it was scary, a lot scarier than he expected. You enjoyed it like a comedy movie, clapping your hand over your mouth when the entire theater shrieked at the killer, including Kentarō.

“You’re a sadist,” he whispered.

“Am not, just think it’s funny.”

He shook his head. Another jumpscare happened, this time worse than before. Several people jolted in their seats and bits of popcorn flew into the air. Kentarō didn’t realize he had sank into his seat—your seat, actually—until you nudged his foot with yours.

“Scared?” Your breath was warm against his ear.

“Sorry.”

You patted his hand which clutched the armrest with a vice grip. Kentarō’s heart beat faster.

“It’s okay,” you said. “I’m right here.”

The movie ended and the lights switched on. People left the theater with wobbly legs and pale faces. You headed to the exit holding your empty cups and popcorn bags with Kentarō in tow. He wished the movie was longer. Not because he enjoyed it, but because the smile on your face made it worth it.

Your room was bare besides your bed and desk. Most of your stuff was packed neatly in the many cardboard boxes piled inside your now empty closet. It’d been a few weeks since that Friday, and you still hadn’t told Kentarō or any of the boys. You weren’t sure how to break the news. He noticed how clingy you became, tailing him wherever he went at school. Not that he minded. You talked less at the playground. It was him who filled the silence instead, though his daily recaps weren’t as interesting as yours.

Next week was the last with Kentarō. In your shaky hands was an envelope, the edges indented from how hard you gripped it. You took out the letter inside, read it over, then slipped it back in. You thought about sealing it for the umpteenth time that day. Before your tongue swiped against the flap, you quickly scanned over the letter once more as if the words would disappear. You’d seal it later, you told yourself.

Your over-the-top cheeriness was so evident it was painful. They asked what was up, and you said you were simply having a good day. Kentarō knew better than that. At lunch, when you were away from everyone else, he prodded your shoulder and asked what was wrong. You frowned at him, then smiled.

“Everything's fine.”

Before he could probe further, you grabbed his wrist and led him to the cafeteria.

“There’s chicken! It’s your favorite, right?”

Something slipped out of your pocket. Kentarō thought it was your school notes. He bent down to pick it up and saw it was a white envelope, unsealed. You were already gone, dragged away by his teammates. He didn’t want to pry, but curiosity got the best of him. Turning the other direction, he grabbed the note inside. His name at the top caught his eye.

Dear Kyōken-chan,

He snorted.

Sorry for not telling you this sooner. I’m still trying to process this too.

A crease formed on his forehead as he squinted. The letter was quite long, the handwriting messy. He repeated the phrases in his head over and over, but he couldn’t fully understand what they meant. He flipped it to the back and sighed when there was more. He decided to scan it this time, except a handful of words made him reread it in depth.

“Kentarō!” In your arms were several wrapped buns from the cafeteria. He tried to stuff the note into his pocket, but you already saw.

“Oh.” The buns fell to the ground. “Oh no.”

Kentarō’s face was a mix of frustration and hurt. The hand holding the letter shook, the other balled in a fist. You wanted to run, but if you moved, you swore you’d collapse.

“(Y/N),” he murmured. “What is this?”

A weary laugh escaped your lips. “Um. Can we go somewhere else?”

Not waiting for an answer, you grabbed his wrist and led him to the school’s courtyard.

“One week,” he huffed.

“One week.”

You sat beneath a large, shady tree in the farthest corner away from the main building. Kentarō rubbed his temple and sighed. He held onto your letter. You fiddled with your fingers in your lap.

“For how long?”

“Probably forever. Not literally, but it’ll feel like it.”

“So you’re graduating from Nekoma?”

You nodded. Kentarō tapped his knuckles against his cheek.

“Wished you told me sooner.”

You blinked at him wearily. “You’re not mad?”

He shook his head then turned away. You grew quiet for a moment. He took it as his chance to butt in.

“So, you like me?”

“It’s all in the letter.”

“I want to hear you say it.”

You looked away. Your hands were clammy, and the air felt ten times hotter. The word you used was stronger, much stronger than he anticipated. It made his cheeks burn and a smile threatened to pull at his lips. He wanted to hear it come to life.

“I love you, Kentarō.”

It sounded sweet, almost tooth-rotting sweet. Kentarō chewed the inside of his cheek. He liked you, he really did. He just wasn’t sure if it was the right moment to say it. Would there be a right moment? After this week, you’d be in Tokyo in another school—a rival school, to make matters worse. He wanted his words to hold weight, and in that moment, they didn’t. Not as much as he wished.

“If you don’t feel the same, I understand.”

“I do.”

You opened your mouth to speak, but the bell cut you off. Kentarō hoisted himself from the ground then held his hand out. His palm was rough under yours, but his touch was gentle. Once you got to your feet, you let go, but he kept his pinky locked with yours.

Friday arrived quickly. Sadness filled the air as you said your goodbyes, thanking your classmates and teachers for the short, but pleasant year. After school, the team led you to the gym with your eyes covered. The boys’ gym was decorated with a banner and a table with food. There was even a cake, the word Seijoh iced and crossed out on top. You let out a hearty laugh before inviting the boys to dig in.

“Of course,” said Oikawa. “I paid for it.”

On one side, Mattsun smeared frosting over Hanamaki’s cheek. On the other, Oikawa tried to spoon-feed Iwaizumi only to be smacked on the head. You sat on the floor next to Kentarō and looked around with a big smile. His thumb reached out to wipe a dollop of frosting from the corner of your mouth. The phrase, “Time flies when you’re having fun,” held up its end of the bargain. When you looked outside, the sun had begun to set.

You thanked your friends, took one last photo, and managed to hold in your tears until your walk home. You promised to visit and to cheer them on at nationals, even if you were on Nekoma’s side. They laughed, waved with sad smiles, then watched you leave.

Kentarō caught up with you a third of the way home. His hand slipped into yours, a habit he recently picked up. It wouldn’t last much longer. You stopped a few houses down from yours. You didn’t want to let go, not yet.

You learned many things this year. One, life wasn’t fair. It never was. Two, people weren’t as shitty as you thought, proven in your new friendships. Three, seeing Kentarō cry made your heart ache in a way you never wanted to feel again. His head fell against your shoulder with a hard thump, tears soaking through the uniform you’d wear for the last time. You rubbed his back and pressed your lips to the top of his head.

“Stay,” he pleaded.

“I wish I could.”

“Please don’t go.”

“I have to.”

Kentarō looked up through his watery lashes. Your lips connected. Who initiated it was a mystery. His kiss was slow but fervent. You leaned in, deepening it until you swore your teeth clashed. Kentarō’s hands rested on your hips, yours on the nape of his neck. His kisses were magnetizing, drawing you closer with each movement. You broke apart for air, foreheads pressed together. He still had tears in his eyes, and so did you. You stayed like that for a bit, wrapped in each other’s arms until you knew you had to let go.

“Call me everyday, please,” he whispered.

“I promise. I swear on my life.”

You kissed him again.

“Goodbye, Kentarō. I love you.”

“Goodbye, (Y/N). I’ll be waiting.”

“So will I.”

Kentarō didn’t say it, but he didn’t have to. You knew he loved you, proven by his daily text messages and calls thereafter. Even if it only lasted a couple of seconds, you never missed a day. Sometimes, you heard his teammates' voices in the background. The audio would become crackly before a new voice replaced your boyfriend’s: Mattsun, Yahaba, Oikawa, and even Iwaizumi.

Boyfriend. The fact made your stomach fill with butterflies. Kentarō was yours, and you were his.

It’d been months since you last saw him in person. You finished your second-year at Nekoma, a school that welcomed you with open arms. You met lots of people, found new friends, but the boys from Seijoh never left your mind. The picture you took hung on the wall of your new bedroom, a space you were still getting used to. Summer vacation was here, and you promised to come home to Miyagi for a week or two. On the train, you checked your phone to see how many kilometers were left. Just a few more minutes.

When it came to a halt, you burst from your seat, duffle bag in tow. You sent Kentarō a text, only to be face-to-face with him the moment the doors opened. You leapt into his arms, knocking him back a few steps. His chin rested on your shoulder as you hugged, swaying side to side.

“I missed you so much, Ken.”

“Missed you, too.”

Your fingers clasped around his, resting perfectly in the dips between his knuckles. Hopefully, he hadn’t dropped his habit. The months you were apart flew by, but they were also the longest you had ever witnessed. Seeing Kentarō for the first time in a while felt like a breath of cool, fresh air.

You tugged on his wrist, ready to head to town. He stayed put.

“What is it?”

“I love you.”

He grinned shyly at you. Kentarō brought color into your dull life, your source of noise in the thick silence. The summer wouldn’t forever, and you had another year left to endure. But as long as he was there, even kilometers away, you’d get through it together.

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creativeashproductions · 4 years

Text

Curiosity // Luke Patterson

Summary: After filling up another journal designed his songbook Luke is left empty handed. With the offer to a shelf of blanket journals is given he’s immediately choosing. But Luke’s curiosity leads him to a discovery. In other words Luke finds Perfect Harmony in Reader’s bedroom.

Requested: Yes by @averyharrypotterlife

Warnings: None.

Words: 1.7 (including lyrics)

A/N: Thank you from the bottom of my heart for the 5000+ followers whether it was years ago and you didn’t unfollow or in the future. Thank you for enjoying and interacting in something I’ve always loved: writing.

TO BE TAGGED SEND AN INBOX PLEASE!

Masterlist

Luke’s always been a curious person going as far back as his early childhood. The most consistent evidence being during the Christmas holidays. Until he was ten, yes, he’s aware that his friends stopped believing in Santa way earlier. The young lad would stay up hidden in the living room waiting to catch Santa. Without fail, Luke would wake up in his outer space planet sheets having fallen asleep in his mission.

When he was twelve years old, he was left at his aunt and uncle’s house for the weekend due to a work-related thing. His older cousin was eighteen at the time and at college, so Luke stayed in his bedroom. Luke couldn’t help but snoop through Bryan’s personal items, and in a drawer with a false bottom, he discovered magazines.

Luke had a lot of fun that weekend diligently going through the magazines his mother would skin his hide even knowing about them. He may have had to use the excuse of having a cold for the entire box of Kleenex missing. No one was the wiser on that weekend.

Now when Luke was fourteen years old, he had snuck into the Rated R film Candyman with Alex and Reggie. Luke’s parents had been strict in their rules and definitely had shot down the question of seeing the film. The three didn’t sleep with the lights out for a month after that, and the truth came out when no lie was sufficient to their concerned parents.

Luke Patterson didn’t care about boundaries. Why ask for permission when you can just ask for forgiveness? It worked with going through Julie’s dream box, but all personal items got hidden from the ghostly guitarist.

“No!” Luke exclaimed flipping through his song journal once more in hopes of a blank page. The frustration in his body snapping the pencil he had been using.

“You good?” You questioned glancing up from the essay you graded as a teacher’s assistant for an AP course. Luke’s frustrated brown met yours with a cute pout on his lips.

“I’ve filled my journal up. I hate using loose-leaf, but no money means no buying things.” Luke roughly scrubbed one hand on his face.

“You could always just forever borrow one from the- “Luke quickly shot that down with a look of absolute horror, “Okay…so stealing a no.”

“I did listen to my parents on certain aspects. I would never steal anything, other than the food when we didn’t have enough cash.” Luke’s brown hue had softened back into the hazel that caused flutters in your heart, “I have no respect for thieves.”

You nodded before scribbling a suggestion on the paper in dark red, “I have a shelf in my room dedicated solely to blank journals. If you want to, you can take one free of charge.”

With a quick smile, Luke disappeared from the room to your personal domain he sometimes hung out with you in. You had no misgivings on the teen finding solace in your room and gave him free rein; your prized possessions hidden very well.

Luke appeared in the soft blue and lilac bedroom with the queen white iron wrought style bed in the middle. A white desk in the corner with a multitude of bookcases and shelves in the room. The desk chair neatly pushed into the desk as well he went straight to the shelf.

Journals of all colours and styles with a label on the shelf noting them as empty. It was packed with dozens, but it was the midnight blue one that called to the boy. In his reach, he bumped an emerald green one off the edge. It opened having hit the edge of the desk.

As he leaned down, he noticed notations in the margins, now remember how Luke is a curious guy? He only hesitated a second before he was reading the pages of words in your signature script.

The guilt flared for a second before he justified it as being on the shelf you declared free game. So Luke settled sitting criss-cross against the side of your bed reading the words so eloquently written. Even notes allowed Luke to hear the melody in his mind.

Assignment: Write a piece of literature from two points of views. Genre doesn’t matter as long as it is a minimum of one page and not exceed eight.

Step into my world

Bittersweet love story ’bout a girl

Shook me to the core

Voice like an angel

I’ve never heard before

The words took his breath away, recalling a moment he gushed to Alex on how he had caught you singing. He had described your voice as being angelic, and it took him by complete surprise. He remembered Julie, and you entered the room shortly after with a nervous feeling if you had heard. Now Luke had his answer. His phantom heart pounded in anticipation for the reply to this first point of view.

Here in front of me

They’re shining so much brighter

Than I have ever seen

Life can be so mean

But when he goes, I know he doesn’t leave

The smile threatened to split his face with the elation as he continued reading with a subconscious hum. His fingers tapping the sides of the paper as his hazel irises tinged green ate up the words.

The truth is finally breaking through

Two worlds collide when I’m with you

Our voices rise and soar so high

We come to life when we’re

In perfect harmony

Whoa-oa-oa, whoa-oa-oa

Perfect harmony

Whoa-oa-oa, whoa-oa-oa

Perfect harmony

The world faded as Luke distinctly heard your angelic voice singing the parts he could easily recognize as perfect for you. There was something so powerful in this incredibly personal song only intended for your eyes and your teachers.

The next handful of lines left him breathless and astonished as he visualized not sitting across from each other. But engaging in another art form that can be so incredibly intimate for people; he imagined singing this while holding you in his arms.

You set me free

You and me together is more than chemistry

Love me as I am

I’ll hold your music here inside my hands

We say we’re friends, we play pretend

You’re more to me, we’re everything

Our voices rise and soar so high

We come to life when we’re

In perfect harmony

Whoa-oa-oa, whoa-oa-oa

Perfect harmony

Whoa-oa-oa, whoa-oa-oa

Perfect harmony

Luke went from humming to softly singing to the heartfelt tune with a flutter of butterflies deep in his stomach. When Julie saw Unsaid Emily, he had denied it as an experiment, and it was the truth. Luke wrote rock anthems and rock-pop with his living friend. He never dabbled into romantic ones.

He’d never read something so poetically beautiful it felt him weeping at the sheer amount of feelings.

I feel your rhythm in my heart

Yeah yeah yeah

You are my brightest burning star

Whoah whoah oh

I never knew a love so real (so real)

We’re heaven on earth

Melody and words

When we’re together we’re

In perfect harmony

Whoa-oa-oa, whoa-oa-oa

Perfect harmony

Whoa-oa-oa, whoa-oa-oa

We say we’re friends (we play pretend)

You’re more to me (we create)

Perfect harmony

His eyes found the last line of the song setting him back in a dead silence returning to the start to reread it. On his third read, he found the notes from your teacher on a separate page.

Y/N, in my years of teaching, I’ve never read something with such meaning behind it. The longing, passion, respect and love you artfully encapsulated is rare. To have written, this means you’ve felt this. No corrects needed, and I felt compelled to not mark on the piece. Thank you for being vulnerable with me, for letting me step inside your mind and please never let this emotion fade.

Your grade is A+.

Luke’s lips pulled apart at the genuine words your teacher had written because it indeed was a word of art. Carefully Luke returned the notebook back to the shelf to retrieve the blue one that caught his attention. AS he turned, he found you leaning against the door frame with a soft smile.

“I am so sor-“

“No.” You replied, walking into the room, “You’ve got nothing to be sorry for. I told you any notebook on that shelf. I can’t get mad, and I’ve seen you can’t leave something half-read.”

“Probably why my book reports were insanely well done in school.” Luke joked as you stepped in his personal space. The tension faded from his shoulders as he took in your features, “You got a perfect grade.”

“I did.” You simply spoke, staring up into his eyes, “You helped me with it.”

“How?”

“You told Alex what you felt about my voice. You looked nervous when I walked in, so I let it go. It wasn’t the time to bring it up. It’s called Perfect Harmony.” You told the ghost gently grazing your fingertips on his hand. The feeling sends shudders down his spine.

“I guess it just wasn’t the right time. With the band and-“

“-the whole soul owning thing. Too much but now that you’ve read that…what do you feel?” You hesitantly asked because reading it and discovering how someone feels is another to if the feelings are reciprocated back.

“That I was always meant to live in 2020. That I was meant to love you with every atom in my very being.” Luke murmured before he crashed his lips onto your own in a searing kiss that had your toe-curling.

The midnight blue journal dropped to the floor as his large calloused hands cupped your face to feel the warmth. The very journal would be filled with songs all about this person, Luke adored not matter his state as a ghost. Two worlds collided just as two souls came together in perfect harmony.

So, wrapped up in each other Luke didn’t notice something magical encased in the warm love. In the bedroom, the two teens were kissing in had two distinct heartbeats with a glow emanating from Luke Patterson.

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#luke patterson imagines #luke patterson x reader #julie and the phantoms imagines #charlie gillespie imagines #julie and the phantoms #luke patterson #caitsy and ash productions

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reyeslonestar · 3 years

Text

I can’t face the world without you

Available on Ao3

a little (long) follow up to this fic. I hope you enjoy

TK x Carlos, Angst with a Happy Ending (yay), Coma, Proposal

tw, mention of a panic attack and cardiac arrest

1.9k words

TK sits in the uncomfortable hospital chair that he’s claimed as his own for the past week, tapping his fingers absently against the velvet box he’s holding in his hands. It’s the ring box that came out of Carlos’ uniform pocket when they’d had to cut the blood stained clothing off on the operating table - the final straw that broke the camel’s back of TK’s emotional capacity on the day that Carlos was shot. There's another box in his pocket - the ring inside the one that TK bought a few weeks ago. The one that he was going to offer to Carlos that Friday night after they'd crawled into bed, holding each other close as they revelled in the wonder of each other’s company.

They should be fiancés by now.

Instead, he’s watching the unnaturally silent stillness of the man he loves most in the world; the slow rhythm of the heart rate monitor a soundtrack to the fear in his head that he might never get the chance to ask that question, or to ever hear it returned.

Because Carlos has been in a coma for 8 days. And while the doctors are hopeful, TK knows there’s no certainty that he will wake up.

TK nearly had a panic attack when they told him Carlos went into cardiac arrest on the operating table, the fluids Tommy gave him in the ambulance not quite enough to counter the amount of blood he lost in the field. He was in a critical condition for some time, but the surgeons managed to pull him through the surgery and he was moved onto a ward in an induced coma. They eased off the anaesthetic the next morning, and from then it’s just been a waiting game.

TK refused to leave the hospital for the first three days, sleeping fitfully on the unforgiving plastic chair pulled up against the side of Carlos’ bed, his head pillowed against his boyfriend’s side - the side without all the bandages and the stitches that are holding Carlos’ organs and tissue in place.

On the fourth night Owen was adamant for TK to go home, have a shower, and sleep in a proper bed, and it was a testament to TK’s exhaustion that he couldn’t bring himself to argue. However, after waking in a cold sweat at 3am from the horror of having to helplessly watch Carlos bleed out in front of him over and over, this time without Tommy and Nancy and the ambulance supplies there to save him, TK had ordered an uber and snuck back through the hospital corridors in the early hours, trembling with relief to see Carlos alive and breathing, even if only thanks to various plastic tubes criss crossing his body, and even though the sight of him so unnervingly motionless burnt a sour taste down the back of TK’s throat.

Carlos’ parents have been here every day, too, coming by the room to sit quietly on the other side of Carlos’ bed, and each time the nurses wheeled Carlos away for scans and tests, Andrea and TK would sit together in silence, gripping tightly onto each other’s hands for support. There were a lot of tests in the first couple days, and scans to try and gauge his brain activity, to know when he’d wake up and what kind of state he’d be in. Apparently the results were hopeful, indicating everything looked to be normal for the circumstances, and that Carlos would be back with them soon.

But Carlos still hasn’t woken up. And TK is losing the fight against imagining the worst.

Grace and Judd had stopped by the night before - the whole 126 have been in and out of the hospital over the last week to visit and lend their support. Carlos became part of their family when he became part of TK’s and TK knows they’re missing him just as he is. Judd had pulled him into a tight hug, whispering that Carlos was strong, that he’d pull through, before planting a kiss on the top of his head, ruffling his hair as they’d parted. Grace’s hug had been softer, but no less loving, and they’d both sat by Carlos’ side for a time while Judd took Andrea and Gabriel to get some more coffee from the hospital cafe.

He’d felt her eyes on the way he’d been fiddling with the ring box, the same way he has been ever since he found it.

“You know I wanted to propose that night?” he’d said suddenly, voice scratching with the first words he'd willingly volunteered in days. “Nothing extravagant, just- in a way that was us,” he’d added, volume diminished to a hushed whisper on the last word.

Grace had squeezed his arm gently. “So did he,” she’d said quietly, and TK had just stared at her, unable to put anything into words. She’d shrugged slightly. “He was going to make you dinner that night and propose then. He wanted it to be special, but like you say, in a way that was you.”

Tk has felt too numb with fear to cry since he broke down on that first night, but he’d been pretty damn close then.

“I can’t lose him,” he’d whispered, barely loud enough to hear himself, but Grace had heard him anyway.

“I know, honey, I know,” she’d told him. “The same way I know he’s fighting to come right back to you.”

As much as TK wants to believe her words, as the hours creep late into Carlos’ ninth night in this bed, he’s wondering if maybe Carlos has fought all he can. Maybe his strength finally gave out and the beeping machines next to him is the only thing keeping that chest steadily rising and falling.

Tucking his chair as close to the bed as he can, TK draws Carlos’ hand to his lips as he rests his head against the bedcovers, settling in for another night of interrupted sleep.

“I need you back, Carlos,” he whispers, holding back the tears that threaten to spill down his cheeks. “I dont- I can’t face the world without you.”

Tk wakes to the feeling of a gentle hand stroking through his hair with slow movements. He blinks slowly and looks up to see warm brown eyes smiling at him.

“Hi,” Carlos whispers, his voice a hoarse and grating sound from a week's disuse.

It’s the most wonderful sound TK has ever heard.

He cries Carlos’ name brokenly, launching himself at Carlos' neck to hold him close. He can feel Carlos chuckling slightly under his chest even as he pulls TK closer and he closes his eyes to soak in this feeling.

“I missed you,” he mumbles into Carlos’ neck and Carlos holds him even tighter.

“I’m sorry,” he hears Carlos whisper, and he pulls back abruptly.

“No,” he says firmly, wiping away the tears that have slipped down his face. “No, you have nothing to apologise for.” He stands up, shifting into action. “Let me get you some water and then we need to get your doctor, get you checked out-”

Carlos’ hand tugging on his interrupts him. “I love you,” Carlos says, voice still scratchy and rough, but he’s smiling at TK, who sits heavily back into his chair.

“I love you too,” he says, squeezing Carlos’ hand painfully. “I love you so much and I thought I was going to lose you and-” he stops and takes a breath, halting the runaway train of his fear in its tracks. “I’m just so happy to see you again,” he finishes with a whisper.

“I’m here,” Carlos says. “And I’m not going anywhere without you.”

TK hovers by Carlos’ bed for the next few hours, only stepping far enough away to allow the doctors and nurses to check Carlos over, run tests and eventually remove the various apparatus that have helped keep him alive. Gabriel and Andrea are a teary mess when they see their son sitting up, breathing, talking, alive, and TK can’t blame them. He feels like he’s been holding his body up through sheer stress and worry, and now he knows Carlos is going to be okay, he’s ready to collapse with relief.

At long last, though, the hospital staff retreat and Carlos’ parents head to the cafe to leave Carlos and TK alone once more and TK doesn’t miss the way Carlos sighs with relief.

“Are you okay?” he asks. “Do you need something? I can get you something to eat, or drink, or if you need to sleep-”

“I just want you,” Carlos interrupts gently. “I want to ask you something.”

There's something in his voice that makes TK sit up straighter and he frowns slightly. “What’s up?”

“When I woke up- you were holding a box,” Carlos starts, and TK, realising what he’s referring to, pulls the two ring boxes from his pocket and holds up the one from Carlos’ uniform so Carlos can see it. He nods, taking it from TK’s fingers and studying it as he carries on, “I had a whole dinner planned, you know? I was going to cook for us, lay the table out on the terrace and then after we’d eaten I was going to get down on one knee, and ask you. I definitely didn’t plan for this to happen but-” He opens the box carefully, turning it so the ring faces TK and takes a deep breath.

“I love you, TK. I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I want to wake up every morning and know that the love of my life is lying next to me. I want to have a family with you, and make every house we live in into our home. I want to make you dinner whenever we feel like it and spend half our day off in bed even though one in the afternoon is outrageously late for a lie in.” TK chuckles slightly at the dig at his unwillingness to get up in the mornings and Carlos smiles, so bright and warm.

“I didn’t know I could love anyone like this until I met you.” Carlos continues, “You’ve filled my life with so much happiness and I want to try and make you as happy as I can for as long as I can, so - Tyler Kennedy Strand, will you marry me?”

TK smiles tearfully as he ruefully holds up his own box, laughing slightly as he sees realisation dawn on Carlos’ face. “Beat me to it, didn’t you?” he jokes, opening the box to look at the simple platinum band set with diamonds inside. “I’m afraid I didn't plan a dinner, or a big speech. All I knew was that I wanted to ask you, because I want all those things, too. You’re my family and you’re also my home. You’re the best thing in my life- Carlos, you nearly died and I-” he pauses, swallowing back the shadow of choking fear that threatens to mute him. “I don’t know what I would do without you. You’re everything to me. I want to spend the rest of my life with you, and I don’t want to go another day without asking you to marry me. So yes, Carlos Reyes, I will marry you, but only if you marry me first.”

Carlos laughs through the tears welling in his eyes, pulling TK in by the wrist to kiss him, whispering “I love you” against his lips. When they pull back, he gently threads the ring onto TK’s left hand, his own hand trembling when TK returns the gesture. TK brings Carlos’ hand up to his lips in a mirror of the last night of Carlos’ coma and kisses the ring, warm lips against cool metal.

“I love you,” TK says quietly. “And I can’t wait to love you for the rest of our lives.”

#my writing #reyeslonestarw #tarlos fic #tarlos #userjillian #userkimmy #tuserjamie #userbones #tuserjenny #useramyj #howlingsaturn #tk strand #carlos reyes #tk x carlos #911 lone star fic #grace ryder #god this was so hard #it feels incongruent with the first part #but oh well

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tae-cup · 4 years

Text

Down With The Ship | One

Pairing: Jeon Jungkook x Female!Reader

Summary: Captain Jeon Jungkook; a beautiful mess of blood and gold. His greatest treasure, may also be his greatest downfall.

Genre: Pirate!au

Warnings: Mild mild mild sexism, talks of arranged marriage, people being asses and some people being nice

Rating: T for Teens

A/N: I’m so impatient asdfkhslkfh Cross posted to AO3

Let me know if you’d like to be tagged!

Word Count: 8.2k Words

Network Tag: @castlebangtan

Other: Masterlist

Previous (teaser) | Next

The ship had been sitting in the harbor for exactly two days, three hours, 30 minutes, and 41 seconds. You timed it, tapping your foot against the tiles of the hallway. The moon was still in the sky and wouldn’t be rising for another three hours. You had three hours to convince the crew of that ship to take you in. Why? Well, you didn’t want to get married, that’s why.

The gold band around your ring finger was more of a shackle than any chain or handcuff. You snuck out of the backdoor. It was...easier than you thought it. You wore a pair of baggy pants that you stole from your brother and a nightshirt with the end result being a tragic mess.

On your way, you ran into a young guard. His face looked new, so he was likely in training. He looked startled to see you there and you could almost feel the nerves rolling off of him. You smiled and he looked hesitantly from you to the backdoor.

“Hey aren’t you-?” He started, but you swiftly kneed him where the sun didn't shine and sprinted. He groaned in pain, falling down with a loud thud and probably waking up half the household. You didn’t have much time.

The wind ran through your hair as you hurried down the darkened streets. You tried your best to take the back routes, the smell of the sea drawing you nearer. You had always felt a connection to the sea, you couldn’t stay away from it. The crystal waters, the froth of a storm, the salt that tinged the air. You fell in love with it and fell out of love with your home. Ever since...You shook your head, trying to forget the past.

Your skin longed for the cool water to lap over it, to caress your body, and take you away from the awful life you had. Well, it wasn’t that awful, but it was certainly no way to live. Yes, you had luxurious items, but that wasn’t what you wished for. Adventure called to you as you neared the docks. The distant shouts of men and the sound of metal clanking against metal invaded your senses. In your hand was a small bag of necessities; a change of clothes, undergarments, a pen, and a notebook of papers. You made your way to the ship you had been watching for the past three days.

The ship was tall and proud, the mast reaching high into the sky. The sails were drawn in, the anchor weighing down the wood. The ship looked weathered but sturdy. There was a dim candle flame flickering in the round window of the ship. You took a deep breath and stood outside the hull. The walkway was drawn up so you weren’t left with many options. You checked your watch. You had two hours to sunrise. Two hours until everyone would begin looking for you, maybe less. You looked around the dock, searching for and gathering stones. You took a deep breath, returning to your spot.

Five chances. You held the other four rocks in your arm and then with your dominant hand, you gripped one of the stones. You winded up and threw. Clank. It hit the hull. No movement. You sighed and moved to aim for the window. Clank. It missed by a few feet. Three more chances. Your hands clenched and unclenched nervously. You had never been...the most athletic. Clank. Closer. Clank. Right on the money.

You held your breath, waiting as the candlelight suddenly disappeared from the window and the small circle popped open. The candle stuck out, now attached to an arm. The dawn was fast arriving, the sky lighting up into a gray sky, the clouds still overcast.

“Who goes there?” A deep voice barked out.

“I was wondering if you had any, uh, any openings on your ship for one more?” You called out, your voice traveling easily in the quiet. Upon hearing your voice, the hand withdrew, and instead, a face popped out of the hole.

“Little girl, do you know who we are?” The man had very defining features, his nose prominent and his lips wide.

“No, but I really just want to get out of here, you have to let me on.” You could almost hear your mother calling for you.

“There’s a merchant ship coming in the morning, you can hop on their ship.” You saw him look you over.

“Achem, sir, you don’t understand I...I need to go now.”

“You being chased or something?” The man narrowed his eyes.

“Something like that.” You smiled weakly.

Surprisingly, he laughed loudly and disappeared from the window. A few moments later he appeared on deck, a coat hastily thrown on as he lowered the stairs for you.

“Climb aboard.” He held out his hand and you hurried forward heart pounding. “I’m Taehyung, the gunner on this here crew.” He explained as he redrew the walkway. “Let’s just say this isn’t the first time we’ve helped a runaway.”

“Thank you.” You said breathlessly.

“Though, we’ve never helped one quite as pretty as you, maybe Jin?” He seemed to go off into his own tangent.

“I think you’re very...pretty, sir?” You said awkwardly.

“I’m glad you think so.” He laughed and slung his arm around your shoulder. “I think you’ll fit in just fine-”

“Kim Taehyung, who the hell is this.” A new voice barked. A tall man appeared from the shadows.

“Ah, Jungkook, this is…” Taehyung turned to you expectantly.

“Y/N.” You finished for him, summoning a smile despite wanting to turn around and run.

The man, Jungkook, was intimidating, his aura commanding attention. He had inky black hair and even darker eyes. The man looked like he had just gotten out of bed and yet he still looked handsome.

“Y/N, this is Jungkook, our fearless captain.” Taehyung stood up straighter.

“Nice to meet you.” You bowed your head.

“Why are you here?” Jungkook wasted no time.

“I’m running away.” You were apprehensive to tell him much else. What if he just delivered you back home after hearing your story? Would he think you were a stuck up brat?

“From who?”

“My mother,” You started, he scoffed. “And an arranged marriage.” You continued quietly, shifting uneasily from foot to foot. The ring on your left finger felt heavier than ever as he scrutinized you.

“Fine. You can stay, but you need to pull your weight.” He turned on his heel. “Follow me.”

Taehyung rushed forward, shoving you along as well.

“Exciting! He’s never this quick in his judgment, though he’s always had a soft spot for young ladies such as yourself.” He whispered.

“Y/N?!” Your mother’s distinct voice called. “Is that you?!”

“Shit.” You muttered. Of course, that guard went and tattled on you! What happened to the scout’s honor? Taehyung turned, along with Jungkook.

“I suppose that’s your people?” Jungkook raised an eyebrow and walked purposefully past you. He was at the side of the ship in four strides. “Who goes there?”

“Lady Y/LN. I request my daughter to be returned immediately!” Your mother’s shrill voice shot through the harbor. You winced at her tone, eyes meeting Jungkook’s. You begged him not to tell her, but he didn’t seem to register you at all.

“I’m sorry, we have no woman on this ship, Lady Y/L/N.” Jungkook responded curtly and walked away from the side, ignoring your mother’s protests. You watched him, confusion and shock written on your face. Did he just...defend you? No one had ever done that before, taken your side. It had always been you versus the world.

“Get ready to set sail. It seems we can’t stay here much longer and Ms. Y/N, I need to speak with you immediately.” Jungkook clasped his hands behind his back, walking forward.

You hurried after him, falling into step just a pace or two behind. You weren’t well versed in crew behaviors, but if he was the captain, he was much like a nobleman. And you always had to fall a step behind a nobleman, regardless if you were a man or woman, but especially if you were a woman.

There were shouts as Taehyung wrestled his crewmates out of bed. As you sat in, what you assumed to be, Jungkook’s office, you could hear the footsteps of several other people. They all scurried to the demands of a new muffled voice.

Jungkook took a seat, propping his legs up on the desk and crossing them. You realized he was, in fact, no nobleman at all. He watched you carefully as you sat across from him.

“So, you’re going to tell me all about yourself, little miss, and then I’m going to give you two options, got it?” He rested one arm on the back of his chair, the other hanging over the armrest.

“Right.” You cleared your throat, still trying to take in all that had happened. His eyes appraised you, flickering from your eyes to your lips to your neckline.

“Well, I’m Y/N, as you know. I ran away because I’m being forced to marry someone I don’t love, simple.” You explained dryly. You flashed your engagement ring and then slid it off, pocketing it. “Haneul isn’t a bad guy, but we don’t mix at all and I don’t think I’d survive a day married to him.”

“Alright.” That seemed to be a good enough excuse. The captain pursed his lips in thought. “I’ll give you two options. Option one; you join my crew full time. Option two: we drop you off at the next town and you’ll be on your own.”

“Both sound...not so bad.” You thought for a moment. He seemed amused. You wanted adventure, you didn’t want to be dumped off on your own again. “I’ll join your crew.”

“Do you know who we are?”

“No, I just saw your ship, and, well, I’ve always loved the sea.” Your eyes went distant as you thought about it.

Jungkook smirked, letting out a chuckle of laughter. He took his feet off the desk and leaned on the desk, chin resting on his interlaced fingers.

“Welcome to the crew of the Bulletproof Boy Scouts.”

Shit.

Okay, so jumping aboard the most feared pirate crew of the decade was not the best decision you had ever made. It was right up there with agreeing to an engagement you knew you would never follow through with and stealing your mother’s jewelry.

“You can’t fish, you can’t wield a sword, and you can’t even cook. So what can you do, little lady.” Jungkook frowned, drumming his fingers impatiently on the desk.

The slight swaying of the ship was making you nauseous and it didn’t help that you were below decks and not up above. It felt extremely stuffy, borderline claustrophobic.

“I can draw. I’ll help you navigate and write out maps.” You cleared your throat, trying to settle your stomach.

“Hm…” His eyes were cold, calculating, as he seemed to think it over. “I suppose so, but you’ll need to help Jimin with his chores as well.”

Jungkook stood and motioned for you to follow him. He opened the wooden door and led you down a series of halls. They were short and thin. Your shoulders almost brushed the sides if you walked straight. You didn’t feel...scared of Jungkook. He was definitely intimidating, but you didn’t fear for your life. You had heard the tales of his crew being merciless and cutthroat, not sparing a single person on a ship if they happened to raid it.

“There are some things we need to go over.” He stopped and turned to you.

You stopped short, trying not to bump into him, but a wave of dizziness washed over you. You were definitely feeling a bit seasick, but you had enough pride not to tell him.

“Which are?” You stared at him, your expression confused.

“In order to become a full-fledged crew member, you need to go through our trials.” He explained.

You waited for him to continue, your attention still on him. You were very good at following orders, you had been doing so your entire life. Reading social cues and understanding another’s position were all things you had been taught at a young age. It was mostly to prepare you for a valuable suitor, but you never had any intention of following through on that part.

“The trials are three things that you should be able to get through easily.” The dark-haired male turned back around, beckoning you to follow him. You fell into step once more. He stopped outside of a door.

“In here are your quarters. Now, before you go in, I’ll tell you about the trials. First, you need to spend a night in the holding cell below deck. Second, eating Jin’s carrot soup. It sounds innocent, but there’s always been something off about it. Third, you need to walk the plank.”

“Walk the plank?” Your eyebrows shot up.

Yes, you could float in the water, even keep yourself upright, but you had never been a strong swimmer.

“If this is your ploy to get rid of me, it won’t work, captain.” You gave him a mocking salute, before remembering your place.

He chuckled darkly. “Don’t worry, I’ll wait for you, Little miss.” You ignored the shiver that rolled down your spine.

“Y/N.” You interrupted, getting tired of being referred to as ‘Little Miss’.

“You earn your name here, darling.” He tilted his head and then turned around. “Meet at the jail tonight for your first trial.” He then proceeded to stride into the hallway and disappear around the corner.

You sighed and took a glance around the hall. It was completely silent except for the creaks and groans of the ship. You carefully opened the door. Inside, there was a desk pushed to the corner of the right wall. The left wall had a bed and on the wall farthest from you was a small round window.

You rushed forward and unlatched the window, letting the night air into your tiny room. You curled your fingers around the cold edge of the window, taking in a deep breath to settle your nerves. You swayed slightly, still trying to get a hang of walking on a ship. Five deep breaths later and you resigned yourself to shut the window. You quite liked the fresh air, but it was starting to get chilly.

The morning sun had finally graced its golden hue across the shimmering ocean. The waves skipped by, nothing more than a blur as the ship sailed away from the port. You opened your small bag and organized your things. You placed the notebook and pen in the desk drawer and stored your spare change of clothes under the bed.

It wasn’t anything too fancy, just a summery yellow dress that you knew would come in handy as it got warmer. There was a soft knock at the door and you would have missed it if it weren’t for you already standing near the door.

You pulled out a string of white lace and tied your hair up with it. Then you shoved the rest of your belongings haphazardly under the bed.

“Hello? Is our little sea artist in there?” A voice you didn’t recognize called out to you.

“Yes, coming!” You knocked into the bed frame, hissing and cursing under your breath.

Being on the ship was already reversing years of properly trained manners. It wasn’t like the principles of dance and etiquette had ever really stuck in your mind anyway. You had only been on the ship known as BTS for about two hours and you had already grown attached.

You threw open the door, nursing your smarting elbow. A man with broad shoulders and the most perfectly shaped face you had ever seen stood in the doorway. He had an eyebrow raised, his hand frozen mid knock. You cleared your throat awkwardly.

“I’m sorry have we already met? I’m pretty bad with names.” It was a lie, but to be fair, the morning had been hectic. He just let out a laugh at your antics.

“No, I don’t believe so. I’m Kim Seokjin, but please, just call me Jin.” He said, dipping his head.

“Y/N.” You responded in turn and followed his gesture.

“Nice to meet you! I’m the boatswain here on this fine ship.” He grasped your arm and dragged you above deck. “The Captain asked me to give you a tour and introduce you to our crew.”

“Oh my god, I’m supposed to eat your soup later.”

He seemed deeply offended and he crossed his arms. “I don’t know why that’s still on the stupid trials. I don’t add any weird ingredients, it’s just carrot!”

Jin was the opposite of any rumors you had heard while Jungkook hit the mark perfectly. The contrast was astonishing.

The wind whipped around the loose strands of your hair as you stepped into the blinding sunlight. Waves flickered by, splashing harmlessly against the hull. Jin led you over to the bow of the ship where a young man was standing at a large steering wheel. He was accompanied by a shorter man and they were giggling about something. The picture was pretty adorable.

“Hoseok!” Jin shouted over the wind, pulling you until you were right in front of them. The young man flashed a dazzling smile, handing the wheel over to the man next to him.

“Hello! I’m Hoseok, everyone just calls me hobi, except for the Captain, but he’s a little grouchy.” The man, Hoseok, winked. You chuckled a little, Jungkook’s scowling face coming to mind.

“That’s Jimin, he’s the cabin boy and a little shy, but he’s right up there with the best of us.” He hitched his thumb over his shoulder, pointing to the man behind him.

Hoseok had dark brown hair and chocolate eyes that put you at ease. Jimin had light blonde hair and chubby cheeks. He sent you a shy little wave that made you want to coo.

“Alright, now get back to work, Hoseok. You can’t trust Jimin with the wheel for too long.” Jin rolled his eyes as Hoseok mumbled something under his breath. Then you were swept away to the other side of the ship.

A tall man wearing a loose white top and black pants stood at the railing, clearly deep in thought. Jin cleared his throat loudly, causing the man to startle. He turned around, his mouth open to scold the older man when he noticed you.

“H-hello.” The man seemed quiet. His voice wasn’t soft-spoken, just a little timid about the words he chose.

“Aish, snap out of it. Where’s our fearless first mate, yeah?” Jin patted his back hard, making him cough a little.

“That’s enough! That’s enough! You just startled me.” His voice was husky and low, but not as deep as Taehyung’s. “I’m Namjoon, first mate. You must be the new little miss.” There was a look of disdain in Namjoon’s eyes. “It’s been a while since we’ve had fresh meat.”

“Ah ha...right.” You subconsciously pulled your hair back tighter.

“Someone should go wake up Yoongi, he’s probably still sleeping and we need more fish.” Namjoon instructed, his voice firm without a hint of the timidness displayed a few moments prior. You could see why he was the first mate. Even Jin straightened slightly in his presence.

“Well, looks like there’s no one else around to do it.” The man beside you placed his hands on his hips, a frown was evident. “Come along, missy. You get to have the pleasure of waking him up.”

“I have a bad feeling about this.” You mumbled, following him below deck anyway.

You immediately wanted to go back up. Once you had experienced the freedom of standing on the deck, you couldn’t imagine electing to stay below deck for long periods of time. On another note, your parents would never allow you to sleep past 8:00 A.M. Yet another reason you were an opposite to this sleeping man. Jin took a right and stopped outside of a door.

“I just need to wake him up?”

“Sh!” He put a finger to his lips, then nodded frantically and pointed towards the door.

Then he bolted. He turned the corner, heavy footsteps pounding against the wood floorboards, a creak every now and then.

You sighed as you watched him go. You crossed your arms, pondering what to do. Why did no one want to wake this man up? He was probably harmless, but then again, this was the Bulletproof Boy Scouts who were known for being merciless. Suddenly, the hairs on the back of your neck stood tall. He’s standing behind me, isn’t he?

You turned around, halting a shriek from exiting your throat as you came face to face with a very pale man. You assumed he was Yoongi. Yoongi had very pale, bleached blonde hair and dark eyes. His face didn’t change when you met his gaze. The only sign he wasn’t a mannequin was his eyes moving to take you in. Then, his lips quirked into a smile.

“So I see the others didn’t have the balls to wake me up and instead sent the new girl?” He scoffed. “As if that would change anything, anyway, I’m up now so whatever, you’ve done your job. Now shoo.”

The interaction ended so quickly you got whiplash. The door shut in your face with a loud slam.

“Ah, it’s okay, miss, it’s a real skill to wake him up.” Jimin stood at the end of the hallway, a small smile on his face.

“Oh no, he’s awake, just rude.” You said, emphasizing the last part.

You really should be more thankful, but after meeting the crew, they didn’t seem so bad and you felt yourself quickly easing into the groove of things. There was a muffled crash from inside the room and a string of curses made their way through the door. You let out a breath.

“Anything else I need to do?” You asked, stepping closer.

Jimin seemed to ponder this before wildly shaking his head. His lips were pressed together and you weren’t sure if he was shy or staring at you with distaste. Considering his previous actions, you decided on the former. All the men on the ship held an intimidating presence, but Jimin felt timid. His aura was shy and withdrawn, yet he never seemed bothered by teasing.

“I’m just the cabin boy. If you want a specific job, ask Jungk-I mean the captain.”

“Right.” You nodded your head. Then the two of you fell silent.

You reflected on the men you’d met so far. Hoseok was kind with a warm face and sunny smile, you couldn’t imagine him being as vicious as people claimed. Jimin, who stood before you, had a quiet way about him, but he had the cutest gestures. Jin had a very motherly presence, warm, welcoming, and much like someone who you could depend on. Yoongi, who you’d just met, was, as you called him, rude. He seemed grumpy, a little rough around the edges, but was most likely a good guy. Taehyung was odd. He had this energetic way of conducting himself, yet his personality shifted so drastically when he spoke to Jungkook.

Namjoon held a look of disdain in his eyes when you introduced yourself to him. You chalked it up to him being apprehensive about suddenly have a new person on board. Jungkook was quiet and a bit of an enigma, but he always seemed to have a rage simmering just below the surface. His face floated into your mind and you had to stop yourself from blushing at the thought. Jungkook was one of the most handsome and shockingly beautiful men you had met in a long time. Which was saying a lot since you mostly spoke to nobility in your time at home.

“Right, well,” you stuttered awkwardly. “I guess I should get going.” You brushed past him as you made your way upstairs. He didn’t move, still a little dazed it seemed.

The ocean air was a welcome breeze. You made your way to the nearest railing and leaned over the edge, watching the land grow farther away. The winds were in your favor. The day was clear and the sun glinted off the ocean, making it shine like a diamond. Yes, a diamond that you wanted to spend your entire life polishing and sailing over.

“You might fall in if you lean too far over, little miss.” The unmistakable voice of the captain himself came from your right. You turned to look at him, ponytail flying around your neck as you faced away from the wind.

“Yeah? And who says I don’t want to?”

“The little miss has quite the sharp tongue already.” He watched you carefully, his eyes flicking over your body.

You knew these men had likely never worked with a woman before, but they all acted like you were the first meal they’d seen in ages. It was as if they’d never even seen a woman and that was factually untrue because Taehyung and Jungkook spoke with your mother. Though, you wouldn’t blame them for mistaking that screeching owl for some animal instead of a noblewoman.

“Must be the effect of being around you, lover boy.” You said without thinking, then suddenly halted. He raised an eyebrow and then barked out a laugh.

“You are a funny one, miss.” His eyes crinkled in amusement, his lips curling to show off a bunny smile. You huffed a little and turned back to look at the ocean skidding by.

“It’s beautiful out here. I thought I’d never see it.” You said after a brief pause. He just nodded, looking out over the deep cerulean blue of the sea.

“Despite all differences, everyone on this ship shares one thing in common.” He began, taking in a sharp inhale of salty air. “We all hold a deep love for the sea.”

The jail door slammed shut, keys locking it into place. It was dark, damp, and cramped down in the holding rooms. They weren’t so much rooms and more like little jail cells, metal bars, and all. You groaned, trying to reason with Taehyung.

“Taehyung, it’s so cold, could I at least have a blanket?” You pleaded. Sure, you sounded spoiled as fuck, but it was pretty chilly and you were probably going to catch a cold.

“No can do.” He stated simply, brushing his fingers through his long dirty blonde hair. In his other hand, he swung the keys around on the ring.

“What if the ship starts sinking, will you just let me drown?”

“The ship won’t sink.” His words did little to ease your worries.

Your teachers had always called you a worry wart, impulsive, and you had the habit of then freaking out when those impulsive decisions led to a bad situation. Just like now. You crossed your legs, leaning back against the wooden boards.

“Are you going to stand there all night?”

“Nope.” Taehyung smiled, or at least you thought he did. It was dark and the candle he held was on its last legs. “When the candle runs out, we switch places.” He explained. “I have the hard job of waiting until you’re asleep.”

“Oh boo hoo, you have to talk to me.” You rolled your eyes.

Your tutors would be horrified if they could see you now. There was a steady drip from the ceiling, which you didn’t want to know was from, and the wall you leaned against was slightly damp from the ocean crashing against it.

On the bright side, the ship was rocking so steadily it was quick to make you drowsy.

“Goodnight, little miss. Tomorrow I hope to call you Y/N.”

You came to around midnight. That’s what you thought at least. The jail was pitch black and you couldn’t help the little flutter of panic that crawled up your throat. Then there was a heavy stomping up the stairs that led to the jail and another set of stomping as someone descended. A flicker of light bounced over to you. The pale face illuminated made you wish you had woken up at a different time. Yoongi didn’t seem pleased to be awake either. You warily raked your fingers through your hair.

“What do you want?” You said, but your words lacked their usual bite. You were tired and the darkness weighing at the edges of your eye was honestly terrifying.

“Not sure, but I know I don’t want to be here.” Was all he said before falling silent, his eyes watching you like you were prey in the dark. The lull of the ship swept you up in its arms and carried you into dreamland once more.

The next time you awoke, you assumed it was before the dawn. You were met with a snoozing Jimin, the candle hanging limply out of his hand. The wax dripped steadily onto the floor.

“Jimin.” You reached through the bars, hand landing on his foot. He jolted awake, rubbing his eyes.

“Oh no, I fell asleep.” He mumbled, carding his fingers through his hair.

“It’s fine. It’s not like I’m going anywhere.” You smiled sympathetically.

Jimin seemed like the type to rethink things a lot, to regret or feel guilt unnecessarily. You were like that in a lot of ways and in all honesty, you saw in him the woman you were trying to break out off.

You had been taught all your life to be a simple woman. Simple-minded, not outspoken, and certainly no self-confidence. While you never took the subliminal messaging to heart, you always knew your place in society, and sometimes you could see that messaging shining through.

They did this using a lot of guilt. You remembered once asking to play with the boys instead of playing tea party, but the others screamed ‘what would your mother think? Your parents work hard for the money for your pretty dresses only for you to ruin it.’. He had never cared...Your mind drifted back to your guard from a few years ago.

“Captain will kill me, though.” Jimin took a breath and slapped his cheeks to wake up.

“My back is so sore.” You groaned, hand going to massage your lower back.

“The beds upstairs aren’t much better.” The man snorted. “Captain says that it’s a deterrent to slacking off. That doesn’t stop Yoongi, though.”

You watched him carefully, a small smile on your lips. Jimin came across very meek, but he had survived for a seemingly long time, so he must be strong in some capacity.

“Tell me about yourself, Jimin.” You kneeled next to the bars, wrapping your cold hands around the metal.

He tilted his head, eyebrows furrowing in confusion.

“About...myself?” He asked. “Hm, people usually don’t ask me that.” He took a moment to think. His hand patted his non existent facial hair. You waited patiently, it wasn’t like you had anywhere to be. It was sort of calming.

“Well, when they say you’re not the first runaway they’ve helped, they mean me.”

“You ran away too?”

“Sort of. My father always pushed me to sail the sea, to grow some chest hair.” He scoffed. “That didn’t help much, but at the time BTS was disguised as a simple merchant ship. So I took up a job working as the cabin boy under Jungk-the captain.” He straightened, patting down the front of his t-shirt.

“I think the captain felt bad for me when he revealed what they actually were, but he didn’t expect me to want to stay. I became a runaway. You and I are both wanted people.” He smiled wistfully at you. “But it’s been years and people stopped searching for a boy from a small town. Actually, we’re going to dock at my hometown, so I’m not allowed to leave. I usually do the supply runs, but people would recognize me.” He explained.

You thought over his words. A runaway, huh? You and I are both wanted people. Right, you probably had a bounty on your head, but you didn’t want the journey to end so soon.

“What is the name of the town?”

“Krestleven.” His face revealed a pain long hidden away. Your breath halted, the town triggering your hidden memories.

He stood against the wall as you surveyed the crowd for a suitable guard. His eyes were as blue as the sky, as deep as the ocean itself. And you found yourself drowning. You pulled yourself from your thoughts.

“Do you miss home?”

His eyes held a far away look. He seemed frozen, eyes moving slightly as he thought. You wished you could see how his mind worked. Then he looked you in the eyes, his face void of emotion.

“BTS is my home now.”

You stretched out your limbs, releasing a sigh of relief as your bones cracked. It was nice to breathe the fresh air. Down below, you had gotten a tad seasick and nausea wasn’t the best when you were in close quarters with yourself. The day was gray, heavy clouds rolling over the sea like an omen. Hoseok and Jimin looked tense as the ship came into view of the settlement. Jungkook, who stood next to Namjoon at the side, was frowning.

“Tell Yoongi that Jimin can’t go.”

“It’s been years, Jungkook, they won’t recognize him.”

“We don’t know that.”

“My word is final, Namjoon.”

Namjoon stiffened, gave a curt nod, and strode toward the stairs that led below deck. You hesitantly took a place next to the captain. Unlike the real world, in this fantasy, you had no idea what your place was. You didn’t know what boundaries could be crossed, but one night on the open sea had already opened so many doors for you. The captain barely registered your presence.

“Did you sleep well?” You asked.

“Well enough.” He said, but the dark circles under his eyes said otherwise.

You didn’t pry, simply nodding and turning back to watching the land come back into view.

“I can go.” You stated. His eyes turned to watch the side of your face, but you seemed serious.

“And why should I let you do that?”

“I’ve actually...I’ve been to Krestleven before.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah, we get a lot of our guards from there.” You shrugged. “I picked out a guard a while ago, a personal guard.” You bit your lip. “But he died one night, protecting me, so I tried to avoid going back.”

You remembered the screaming, the crying. Days you spent inside, remembering his touch. So you swore to never love again, or that the next person you loved would truly be the one. You could only afford yourself one heartbreak and you planned on throwing yourself deep into it if you were to ever fall in love again. Jungkook seemed to read you well, because he remained silent. He didn’t comment on the noticeable shift in your aura, the slightest tension in your shoulders.

“You don’t have to go.” He said after a while, his hand suddenly coming up to rest on your shoulder and you tried not to notice the wince on his face when his fingers accidentally brushed the open skin of your neck. It was a touching gesture, the proximity seemingly intimate. You felt your heart flutter, but you pushed it away.

“No, I want to go.”

Krestleven was as beautiful as you remembered it. Despite the cloudy sky, the sea was calm. The mountains in the distance towered over the cold town and all the houses were pushed together like penguins huddling for warmth. You had learned about penguins from one of your tutors. She had been a little...nutty as your mother would have said. She had been very enthusiastic about animals, but you always liked her best.

BTS had anchored out a little ways away and Jin took the rowboat with you and Yoongi to shore. Yoongi was quiet company, but Jin explained to you that it was in his nature. A man of few words. He had said. This had earned a glare from the shorter man.

Yoongi, being the striker, had extensive knowledge on the plant and marine life in the surrounding area. He claimed he needed to pick up some supplies in the town and then he’d be all set for the next voyage across the sea.

Stepping foot onto land was an odd experience after just gaining your sea legs. Your legs wobbled and you almost fell, almost. Yoongi, surprisingly, held out a hand to steady you, but you refused it. He raised an eyebrow, but then just dropped his hand and placed his hands behind his back.

“You two better behave!” Jin called, crossing his arms. He had to stay and watch the rowboat while you were gone.

“Don’t worry, I’ll keep an eye on him.” You joked.

You decided to wear your yellow sundress today. The weather might not be perfect, but you’d fit in more with the crowd if you dressed like a ‘lady’. Here on land, you had to conform. You had to act like a lady and wear pretty dresses to appease the male eye.

“Over here.” He said gruffly, slipping into the crowd, and you found yourself chasing after him.

He was taller than you, but still shorter than most men so you were having trouble seeing him in the crowd. The market was crowded as people tried to get the first batch of goods from each vendor. Low stalls held vendors of all kinds. From jewelry to fish and fine art.

You caught a glimpse of his blonde hair every now and then as he easily wove through the crowd. You finally caught up to him at a bait and tackle store. The place had the putrid smell of fish and salt. You scrunched up your nose at the intoxicating scent.

“Hey, I’m just going to wait outside.” You poked his arm and he gave you a stiff nod of acknowledgement.

You went to stand outside, enjoying watching the people rush by you. Everyone was in a hurry to be somewhere, but you weren’t. You were completely calm.

It all shattered when you spotted a familiar bar across the way. You could still see him leaning against the side, his arms crossed around his chest. You wanted to drown in the depths of his eyes again. You could have sworn you saw him, a twinkle in his eyes as he beckoned you closer. But before you could take the first step, the crowd rushed by and he was gone, just like the wind.

You rubbed your eyes, cursing. Now is not the time to be seeing ghosts. There was still that twinge of regret, of melancholy. I should have run away with him the first time he offered. Suddenly, someone bumped into you, flinging you into the rush of traffic. Your breath quickened as you found yourself pushed farther away. You planted your feet into the ground after a while, forcing the crowd to part around you.

“Y/N?” You whipped around to see a familiar face. It’s the soldier. What did you say? Sorry for kicking you in the balls? Shit, wait, he’s probably here to take you in. So of course you bolted.

“Y/N! Come back! You’re mother,” He squeezed past the people, huffing out words between breaths as you fled. “Is really,” He reached out for you. “Worried.” He finished finally, his hand grasping your arm tightly. You spun around.

“What’s your name, soldier?” You said fiercely, your tone like a commander to quell your shaking legs.

“Myung-Suk.” He answered quickly, dropping your arm like he’d been burned.

“Good, I’ll remember that.” You narrowed your eyes, trying not to give away the trembling of your hands and the fear in your heart. With freedom comes fear. And suddenly you weren’t so sure you wanted to live life on the run. Wouldn’t that get exhausting? To always have your guard up?

“Is there a problem?” Yoongi’s low drawl interrupted your thoughts.

Myung-Suk eyed the shorter man warily before shaking his head quickly. He backed off and ran. You turned and grabbed Yoongi’s arm, pulling him towards the docks.

“What’s the rush?” He quirked an eyebrow, but you ignored him.

Your breath was labored as you tried to control the panic flooding your system. He dug his heels in, effectively stopping you. Your chest rose and fell, eyes darting from the dock to Yoongi to the market. You were getting paranoid and you swore you kept seeing figures watching you. You swore you kept seeing him.

“That was Myung-Suk, a guard for my mother.” You said quickly. “They’re probably going to come for us next.” You continued, your breath getting shallower.

“Woah, woah, take a deep breath.” Yoongi held your arms and took a deep breath to show you. You followed his lead and soon enough your heart rate was calming.

“Listen, this isn’t the first time we’ve been on the run with a wanted person. We also are smart and strong enough not to get caught. Have some faith in us.” He smiled gently, gracing you with his gummy smile that put you at ease instantly.

“Alright, I see what you mean.” You murmured. He released your arms and you shivered as the wind blew in.

“We should probably get going.” The blonde haired man looked at the sky. “It might rain and Jin needs to start making that carrot soup for you.” His voice was gruff, as if he hadn’t used it in a while.

You had noticed that he seemed quiet, almost silent, when around the other crew members. You weren’t sure if there was a reason for this, as he seemed very observant and to have strong opinions of his crew; good opinions mostly, but he still never shared them. You studied his side profile as he focused on helping Jin row the boat.

He was handsome, quiet, a little too quiet for your tastes. But the silence was nice.

“I should’ve known you were going to be trouble.” Jungkook tsked as Jin set the bowl in front of you.

“Now, now, captain, she hasn’t been nearly as much trouble as Jimin was.” Jin chided the younger man. Jimin flushed a bright pink and you sent him a sympathetic look.

“Yeah, but once again we’re all being forced to eat Jin’s carrot soup.” Taehyung sighed, picking up a spoon.

“Yah! You don’t have to eat it, Taehyung!” Jin shouted, causing the table to ripple with laughter. Taehyung’s ears burned as Jin continued the rant.

“Sheesh okay okay I’ll eat it.” Taehyung groaned and took a large spoonful to placate the older man. The others just pushed it around, their gazes moving to you, then Jin, then the soup.

You stared at the bowl before you. It looked harmless; a simple chicken broth and carrots floating around. You narrowed your eyes suspiciously.

“What did you put in here?” You asked.

“Nothing!” Jin cried, taking a big spoonful of soup and then coughing loudly. You turned back to the concoction. The room held their breath when you took a sip.

“Well?” Jungkook’s lips were twitching into a small smile.

It tasted earthy and the carrots added a weird texture. You moved it around your mouth before swallowing.

“Oh, it’s not too bad-” You started and then it hit you.

It felt like your mouth was on fire. You gagged, coughing and taking a huge gulp of water.

“Jin! What the hell did you put in here?!” You choked, fanning your reddening face. Jin huffed and looked away.

“I didn’t put anything in there.” He crossed his arms like a child.

“You obviously did! My mouth is on fire.” You gasped, finishing the water.

The crew chuckled at your red face. Namjoon, despite having acted so cold to you previously, let a smile slip onto his face. He had dimples that you thought were quite cute. You could feel the captain’s stare piercing your profile so you turned to face him, patting your cheeks in an attempt to cool them down. He had an odd look on his face, his eyes bouncing between you and Namjoon. Then he casually stood.

“Well, since that is over, I’ll see you nice and early for the last trial.” Jungkook dipped his head and promptly left the room.

You pressed your lips together, eyes trailing as he walked away. The group tensed as the door to the galley shut loudly. Then Taehyung started choking on his soup and the atmosphere returned to normal.

It was too early to be dragged out of bed and all your limbs were sore from the hard bed in your quarters. The chilly wind made your hair hit your face like a whip. The clouds were still dark and the waves looked choppy. You leaned over the railing.

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” You called over your shoulder. Jin peered over the side.

“Yeah, it’ll be a little chilly but I’m sure it’s fine.” He shouted back.

Jungkook was holding up a map and pointing out into the distance while muttering something to Namjoon. The first mate nodded, paying close attention to his counterpart.

“Jin, this might not be the right time to say it but-”

“Little lady, are you ready?” Jungkook barked, his boots thumping loudly against the boards. The words ‘I can’t actually swim very well’ died on your lips.

The captain was wearing a loose black top and tight black pants. He wore a black coat that fell to his ankles with golden buttons lining the sides. On his head was a velvet black hate that was embroidered with gold stitching. You caught yourself staring and glanced away.

“Uh...yeah.” You said quietly, giving a slight nod of your head.

He scooted you towards the plank.

“I said, are you ready?” His voice was loud against the wind.

“Yes!” You shouted.

“Louder.” He commanded.

“Yes, I am, Captain!” You turned to face him, shouting with all your might.

It sounded more like a scream and oh, how you wanted to scream. You wanted to scream at him to stop calling you little miss. You wanted to scream about your engagement, you wanted to scream until you couldn’t any longer.

As the wind swept away the words on your lips, there was a freedom to screaming and no one being around to hear. There was a freedom in knowing your loudest thoughts could still be yours and only yours. You took a step back and then hesitated, turning to see the drop below.

“Then go.” His voice was suddenly low in your ear and you knew he was right behind you.

“I don’t know-”

Then there was a hard shove on your back and you lost your footing.

You were falling, the wind whipping your hair out of its ponytail, obscuring your vision. All you could see were the faces of your crew members peering at you from the railing, but Jungkook’s smirk was imprinted in your mind.

The world rotated as you twisted in the air. Streaks of gray and inky blue. You gasped in a breath, only to lose it as you hit the water. The splash was tiny compared to the unrest of the sea.

You could feel yourself getting lost, sinking deeper, the cold seeping into your bones. You could be at peace, resting here. Who knew that such a simple thing, such as stepping off a plank, could give you such a catharsis. No, you need to go back up, breathe, and live. It was a soft hum in the back of your mind, growing bigger as you sunk deeper.

Then your eyes flew open to see a figure jumping into the water, their dark shadow passing over you. Only then did you want something to live for; for the adventures you were yet to have, for the people you had yet to meet. The shadow reached out for you and pulled you up, yanking you to the surface faster than you thought possible. You gasped for air, breaking the surface.

The captain’s furious face met your blurry vision. “You idiot, why didn’t you say you couldn’t swim?”

“Why isn’t she resurfacing?” Jungkook gripped the railing.

A few more moments passed and the crew looked at each other, worry evident. He was angry. Angry you didn’t tell him you couldn’t swim, angry he pushed you, angry he didn’t understand your limits.

You had looked so afraid in the last few moments. And he wasn’t one to usually care about pushing too far beyond limits or to really care about anyone. His crew came first and he couldn’t understand if you were a part of that crew yet. Someone inside, he considered you a part of the crew, but you still needed to do the trials, it was tradition. He was frustrated. Why am I feeling this way for some stuck up noble girl?

Scowling, he shrugged off his coat and rolled up his sleeves, revealing his strong forearms. He threw his coat over Jin’s shoulder, who was still watching the water with worry. The man jumped at the sudden action.

“Captain what are you-CAPTAIN!” Jin rushed forward to see Jungkook clasp his hands above his head and dive right into the frigid waters.

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#bts #bts x reader #angst #fluff #pirate au #Jeon Jungkook #Jungkook x reader #Jungkook #tatawrites #Down With The Ship #castlebangtan #JK

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full-of-jams · 4 years

Text

Good Riddance #1

Pairing: Jimin x Reader

Summary: There were two things life taught you. Money bought comfort, not happiness. And love was always a gateway to pain. When your former best friend Jimin suddenly returns into your life, he challenges your belief and rips open the past you tried so hard to forget.

Genre: heirs au, girl boss, e2l, angst, mutual pining, eventual smut, feat. OT7

Warnings: swearing, Jin’s dad jokes, prissy Namjoon, a very sunny dispositioned Hobi :)

Word Count: 5.5k

A/N: I decided to rewrite Good Riddance. After I finished outlining the entire plot, I realized that the characters and story were way more nuanced. So here we go!

°°°°°°°

It was a clear night. A bit chilly for mid-September, but you preferred the cold caress of the evening breeze over the smothering atmosphere of the party. The sky was painted dark, flecked with twinkling stars. You tried to blend out the lively buzz below you as you soaked in the view. Stars were scarce commodity in the City and being out here in the countryside was a rare treat nowadays.

You let out a sigh as you leaned against the balcony and took a careful sip from your glass of champagne. The icy railing bit into your skin, but you ignored the rising goosebumps. Light and music spilled out onto the ground floor terrace beneath you. People were enjoying themselves, laughing and chatting away. Usually you didn’t mind being amidst the crowd, but tonight you gladly exchanged the glittering socialite circles for a quiet reprieve.

You felt suffocated; you had to escape.

***

It started out as a normal Saturday evening. A celebratory one at that.

“Yeah man! Namjoons! Congrats! I can’t believe you’re getting hitched!” your friend Jin almost yelled across the room. He joyously greeted the man of the night and patted him eagerly on his back.

“Ah, hyung! You almost made me spill my drink! Do you know how much this tux cost me?” Namjoon asked. Despite his complaint, he couldn’t keep his goofy grin off his face. You fondly looked at both of your childhood friends.

“C’mon don’t be so stingy Mr. Investment Banker. You can make that money back in an hour. Here, in celebration of you finally relieving your beloved out of her five-year long misery, I’ll treat you to a new joke of mine!”

Namjoon threw you a pleading glance. You simply shrugged and gestured for Jin to continue.

“This is an exclusive, so stop being so ungrateful you lot! Did you hear about the notebook who got engaged to the pencil?” Jin happily continued, glancing between the two of you, waiting for a response.

“No…?” you answered as you took a swig of champagne.

“She finally found Mr. Write!” Jin howled gleefully. You shouldn’t have laughed. It really wasn’t that funny of a joke, but Jin’s contagious cackle had you spitting out your drink.

Straight into Namjoon’s face.

“Oh my god! Joons! I’m so sorry,” you breathed between your gasps of laughter. You hastily grabbed some napkins off of a waiter passing by and started wiping his face. Jin was cracking up next to you, basically on the floor.

“Why did I ever expect anything else from the both of you? Why are we friends again?” Namjoon muttered in irritation as he took a napkin off your hands and patted down his tux.

You managed to stifle your laughter, “Because you looooove us. I’m sorry Joonie, really! I’ll pay your dry-cleaning.” You gave him your best puppy eye impression.

“Ugh, it’s fine Y/N. Stop trying to be cute, it’s giving me the creeps,” Namjoon groaned. You dropped your puppy eyes and gave him a stink eye instead.

Jin finally calmed down and threw an arm over his friend’s shoulder. “C’mon Namjoon, Y/N’s right. You love us. Your life would be boring without us. If it weren’t for your exquisite, completely-out-of-your-league fiancée, we’d be getting married right now!”

“You wish,” Namjoon grumbled.

“I’m handsome, I’m funny, I can cook, I’m filthy rich, I’m a catch!” Jin exclaimed indignantly.

You nodded in solemn agreement, “He’s got a point. He’s a catch. You would make a lovely couple.” Your somber façade started to crack as another giggle escaped your lips.

“Yeah, yeah. I’m glad at least the two of you are having fun. On that note, did you see Jimin yet? I heard he’s back in town, he RSVP’d to the party”.

Your smile dropped; every trace of humor gone. “Who?”

Namjoon gave you a strange look and repeated slowly, “Park Jimin. He’s supposed to be here tonight.”

Your heart dropped. Fuck.

You forced a smile back on your face and ignored the furtive glance Jin gave Namjoon. “Oh really? He’s back? How long has it been? I’m sure his family must have missed him.”

“I’m pretty sure the whole City missed our golden boy,” Namjoon said with an awkward laugh.

Your voice turned steely, “Not sure I’d go as far as the whole City, but yeah I can imagine how he has them fooled and wrapped around his finger. I think I better go refill my glass, most of it landed on your face.” You excused yourself and walked away from the boys. In the background you heard Jin reprimand Namjoon, “Way to kill the mood, man!”

“I thought she should know. Better than to run head-first into him!”

“Whatever, c’mon take me to your bride-to-be! I need to tell her my joke!”

***

Later that evening you found yourself on the third-floor guest bedroom balcony, indulging in the starry night sky.

Alone.

You tried to lose yourself in the moment, telling yourself to enjoy this rare occasion.

After a view minutes you decided your attempts were futile. Who were you kidding? You were hiding.

Suddenly the bedroom door opened behind you, light spilled in from the hallway. You shifted your eyes and saw the outline of a sleek figure standing in the doorway.

You immediately straightened up, your long red dress rustled slightly against your body. The figure stilled for a second as he scanned the dark space. His eyes landed on you. He closed the door and slowly crossed the room.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

You carefully kept a blank face and trained your gaze back to the seemingly captivating night sky. You took another big sip of champagne.

“Here you are, Y/N,” the words came out in a soft breath. His voice was quiet, but it was unmistakably deeper than the last time you heard it.

Don’t you get it? I don’t want you here. No one wants you here. The never-ending mantra that haunted you for the last decade. You wanted it to stop.

“Why are you hiding up here?” You threw him a sideways glance as he stepped up next to your side. The moonlight hit his cheekbones, his features were half lit and half hidden in the shadows.

Immediate regret coursed through your mind.

He looked good.

You hated that bastard.

“Who said I was hiding?” you answered in a disinterested tone. He was of course right, but he didn’t have to know that. „I was trying to enjoy my peace and quiet. Alone.” You waved your glass in his general direction without sparing him another glance.

Silence fell; you could feel his gaze on you. You silently prayed he would turn around and leave. Unfortunately he didn’t, or more likely refused to take the hint.

“You don’t seem surprised to see me. I thought I recognized you earlier. If I didn’t know any better, I would’ve guessed you were avoiding me. But that can’t be it, the great Y/N is nothing if not head-on. It’s good to see you again,” he said in an amused tone.

You tensed at his words, your inner voice warring whether to simply ignore him or not. Your rational side sighed in defeat as you gave up your haphazard attempt at stargazing and reluctantly turned your attention to the boy next to you. There was no point in avoiding him, your voice justified. As much as you wanted to, people like the both of you couldn’t afford to ignore each other. You both knew this.

Might as well rip the Band-Aid off now, fast.

“What are you doing here, Park? Did you run out of millionaires to greet downstairs, who’d pat your back and toast on your return to the City? Maybe you shouldn’t have hijacked Namjoon’s engagement party for this. But then again, manners were never your strong suit.” You willed yourself to sound bored and took a measured drink from your glass.

There was another beat of silence as your words hung in the air. You snuck a closer look at him. His hair was parted sideways, falling slightly into his eyes. He wore an elegant waistcoat and slacks. A simple black tie graced his neck.

The years did him well. He looked different than you remembered. Better.

Fuck. You had to have a strict conversation with that inner voice of yours.

As your gaze moved back up, you noticed that his eyes were searching your face. All of a sudden the evening air seemed cold. You had forgotten how his gaze always made you feel. Bared and exposed. Despite your discomfort, you kept your poker face and refused to break the stifling awkwardness. Both of you let another second of silence pass.

Go away.

“Sharp-tongued and witty as ever. I missed that.” He chuckled.

Liar. Still, your defiant little heart skipped a beat. You silently vowed to yourself to meditate more. That mind over matter shit was clearly not kicking in.

“I’m already done with all the millionaires downstairs. So I thought I’d come and greet some old friends up here.” He stuffed his hands into his pockets and gave you a nonchalant shrug.

“We’re not friends, Park.” you shot back.

Jimin dramatically clutched his chest as if hit by a bullet. “Harsh words. And here I thought you’d be the happiest one to see me.”

Your only response was hard silence. Go away. Please.

He continued to disregard your silent prayers, “And what’s up with calling me Park? We’re not in high school anymore. Calling people by their last name is not gonna earn you any street cred, you know? Is this how you treat all your clients? I’m disappointed, tsk.” The boy clicked his tongue in taunting disapproval.

Your brain whirred as you processed what he just said. Shit. Shit.

“Your father is our new client with that new mystery project?” you blurted out before you could stop yourself.

A slight frown set between his eyes. “My father? Park Corp. consists of more than just my father. And he’s definitely not going to be working on that project.”

You dismissed his words with a wave of your hand, “Park Corp., your father, all the same. It’s just semantics.” Jimin wanted to argue back, but you ignored him and continued, “Don’t be so naïve, Park.” You quirked an eyebrow as you used his last name again. Nobody told you what you could or couldn’t do.

“Your old man never lets his turf go unsupervised, especially if it’s a project developed in the City. You should know that better than anyone else. But how did my dad agree to this? He said he’d never work with your father. He thinks money and business ruin good friendships…” You suddenly realized you were babbling and bit down on your tongue.

Damn it, how do you end this conversation fast? Ideally in a way which didn’t involve insulting the son of your biggest new client. Okay, maybe a bit of insulting was allowed. He wasn’t your client yet.

Jimin’s frown deepened before it was slowly replaced by a shrewd smile.

Uh oh. This didn’t bode well.

“Your father agreed to this because I convinced him.” His stupid smile grew wider as he leaned in. Your mind went blank at his sudden proximity, his woodsy scent marred your senses. “As I said, Park Corp. consists of more than just my father. He’s not overseeing this project. I am.”

You swallowed hard.

No one wants you here.

“Jimin. What do you want from me?” You had to shut him down, you had to shut your memories down.

He laughed quietly, leaned in even closer and breathed against your ear, “Like you said, I just wanted to toast with some of my millionaire friends.“ In one smooth move he swiped the glass out of your hand and knocked back the rest of your champagne.

You were too perplexed to react.

“I’ll leave you to your peace and quiet again. I should go greet some other millionaires, maybe even a billionaire or two. See you Monday,“ Jimin winked and turned to leave.

See you Monday. See you Monday?!

He stopped at the balcony door, turned around and looked at you again for another long moment. “Before I forget. I meant it when I said it’s good to see you again.” There was an odd sincerity in his voice. Your heart constricted. “You look good Y/N. I missed you.” With those words he headed back inside.

Fuck.

You were out of champagne.

***

>Beep<

“Yes Ms. L/N?”

“Ash, is this the updated schedule for today?”

“Yes, Ms. L/N. Your conference call with the London team on the current bidding process is in 15 minutes. At 10.30 a.m. there’s the project briefing with Eptá. You have a lunch date with Mr. Kim today. I placed a reservation at the restaurant at 1 p.m. I also cleared your afternoon schedule, per your request, so you can go investigate the properties. And at 8 p.m. you have your call with the West Coast team on the new development portfolio. It hasn’t changed since the last time you asked me 20 minutes ago.”

You ignored the slight annoyance in your assistant’s voice. Ash was nothing if not efficient. How wonderful.

“Ok thanks Ash.”

>Beep<

“Ms. L/N, you seem a bit on edge today. Would you like some chamomile tea to calm your nerves?” she added in a sugary voice.

How. Wonderful.

“That’s very thoughtful of you Ash, but I think I’ll pass,” you answered just as sweetly. “Please follow up with Ren on the financial analysis and make sure to bring me the finalized report by end of today.”

There was a brief pause on the line.

“Of course, Ms. L/N.”

>Beep<

You leaned back in your chair and let out a groan. How did you let yourself get to this point?

It was Monday morning. Two restless nights and three morning espressos in, you had to acknowledge that your brief conversation with Jimin affected you more than you were willing to admit.

Damn that boy and his empty words.

You closed your eyes and focused your mind on your breathing. After a few moments you released all your tension, determined to concentrate on the matters at hand. Any useless thought spent on that guy was just a waste of your precious energy.

Thankfully you were easily able to get back in the game. Your morning call went well. The team did excellent research and prep work and with a little bit of luck the bid would be as good as yours.

>Beep<

“Ms. L/N, your 10:30 appointment has arrived. Mr. Gardner and Mr. Jung have just registered at reception.”

“Send them straight in once they’re here.”

>Beep<

You briefly checked your appearance in the standing mirror and straightened your blouse. Then you gathered the files that you’ve carefully studied over the past week and brought everything to your office seating area. You were told you were specifically requested by this client and you wondered what made them so special. Special enough for your father to insist.

There was a knock on your door and then Ash came in followed by the two men.

“Mr. Gardner and Mr. Jung,” Ash announced.

You were about to greet your guests as you did double-take and froze. There, in the middle of your office stood Park Jimin. He wore a fitted light grey suit with a slim black tie, his hair elegantly sleeked back. Next to him his companion wore something more casual and flowy. His auburn mop of hair offset the cream color of his suit.

What the hell? Is this some kind of sick joke?

It took you a moment to realize that you blurted that last thought out loud. You cleared your throat and tried to compose yourself. “What are you doing here?” A clear hint of dread seeped into your voice.

Jimin laughed at your bewildered expression. Ash and Jimin’s companion glanced curiously between the both of you.

“I’m here to talk business, remember? C’mon you didn’t drink that much at the party to have a blackout. You were sulking around in the corner for the rest of the night. Don’t deny it, I saw you.”

You scowled at him. “Last time I checked your name was not Mr. Gardner nor Mr. Jung and you for sure don’t work for a company called Eptá. What game are you playing Park J…?”

Suddenly Jimin’s companion interrupted you,“Ms. L/N, how about we discuss our matters in a more private setting?” He briefly eyed Ash and the open door to the rest of your office floor.

You gave him an irritated glance but decided to concede. He was right, there was no point in making a scene in the middle of the office. Work was work and you were a professional. You could deal with that jerk later.

“Yes, of course. My apologies, I got carried away. Can I offer you gentlemen something to drink? Coffee? Tea?”

“Coffee would be amazing,” Jimin quipped while he sauntered to the chairs, unbuttoned his suit and sat down.

You threw him a dirty look before you turned to Ash who was taking in the entire scene with immense interest. “Ash could you please bring us some coffee and water?” You turned back to the companion and added, “Please have a seat.”

Once Ash left the room and everyone sat down, Jimin’s companion reached out his hand. “I’m Jung Hoseok, nice to meet you. My partner here has told me a lot about you. I’m sorry if we surprised you like this. Unfortunately, we have to treat the topics we are to discuss today with the highest discretion.”

Jimin told this guy about you?

“Wow Mr. Jung, what an honor. I really enjoyed your last article in the Financial Times. It was very insightful and innovative. L/N Y/N. It’s nice to meet you too.” You shook his hand, your curiosity piqued.

Hoseok gave you an easy smile and continued, “Of course you already know Mr. Park here. You probably have a rough idea about the project at hand through the briefing document we sent through earlier, but before we continue to go into detail, I’d like to ask you to please review and sign this NDA.”

You weren’t unfamiliar with signing NDAs. Real estate development was a lucrative but sensitive business, especially in this city. Client discretion and secrecy was always a given at your father’s company. But if it made your clients feel safer, you were also happy to sign a legal document to ensure no trade secrets were spilled.

While you read through the terms of the document, Ash came back with a tray of refreshments.

“Here’s two coffees, water, milk and sugar at your free disposal. And one chamomile tea for you Miss.” She set the teacup in front of you as you gave her a sharp look.

She remained unbothered and asked in a saccharine voice, “Is there anything else I can get you?”

This girl…

“That would be all,” you dismissed her out of your office. If she had time to be sassy, she could handle your curtness.

After you signed the NDA you reached for the briefing document and flipped through your notes. “Mr. Park, Mr. Jung, I understand your need for discretion, but I’m a bit confused. I reviewed the briefing document and it describes your plans to revitalize the shipyard district. It does provide significant redevelopment opportunities and I’m sure it’s a great investment due to the rising popularity of the area, but to be frank, this is nothing you should hide from your competitors. Actually, it would be more beneficial to publicly market the redevelopment, as it would draw in more investors and increase the property value at a faster pace.”

You paused for a second and looked up at the two men. Hoseok opened his mouth, but before he could jump in you smoothly continued, “But I’m sure two smart gentlemen like you already know all of this. I checked our company’s asset register and we have no significant ongoing activities there at the moment.”

Jimin lifted an expectant eyebrow. And?

Was this some weird game of his? A test? Fine, you could play along.

“What we do have is a full-blown development plan for 53rd Street, which I’ve been asked to work on off-record for a mystery project in the past month. So tell me, why are you really here? Let’s stop wasting our time pretending we’re interested in finding ways to remove and recycle rusty hulls.“

Hoseok looked positively impressed. Good. “Phew, you weren’t kidding Jimin when you said she was smart as a whip. You really did your homework Ms. L/N”.

Jimin complimented you in front of strangers? Somehow this notion bugged you even more.

You brushed off Hoseok’s comment. “Mr. Jung, please, that’s my job. If you’re that easily impressed maybe I should increase my rates,” you deadpanned.

Hoseok blinked at you for a moment until he realized you were joking and started to laugh.

You smiled back at him.

Business rule #1 – always have a friend on the other side.

Your gaze shifted to Jimin and you noticed he was quietly observing you. Once again you felt exposed. Just like on that night of the party.

Focus.

You stared straight back and silently challenged him to say something.

“Yes Y/N, you’re right. Let’s stop pretending.”

No manners, not even in a business environment. What did you expect?

“We’re looking to branch out Park Corp. The hospitality industry is changing; travel and lifestyle trends are changing. As leaders of this industry we should spearhead that change.”

It was the first time you heard him talk in such a serious and determined way.

He briefly nodded at Hoseok and Hoseok brought out a new briefing document. The real briefing document. It had the word ‘Gaea’ printed on the front.

As you flipped through it, your jaw dropped. Your animosities subdued by the remarkable idea which unfolded in front of your eyes. What you read and saw was one of the most ambitious projects ever drafted. You felt a mixture of skepticism but also awe and excitement bubble up inside of you.

“An eco-hotel?” you asked aloud.

Jimin snorted, “Please don’t insult my intelligence. Look again.”

For a brief second you had forgotten who sat opposite of you. You swallowed your retort and flipped through the document again, gathering your thoughts.

You tried a second time, “It’s a new luxury experience. Seamlessly blending sustainability with affluence. A fully integrated concept of lifestyle, art and nature encapsulated in its own microcosm.”

Bingo.

This time Jimin nodded eagerly and leaned forward. “The new generation has a different view on things. The success of our company, of any company, is being measured through the impact we make in this world. They are the ones who are the breadwinners. They are willing to go deep into their pockets to appease their conscience yet unwilling to give up the luxuries that they are used to.”

You carefully took a sip of your tea and asked, “So you’re appealing to their sense of guilt? I’m not sure that’s the smartest thing to do, especially when it comes to hospitality.”

Jimin shook his head. “No. Not at all. People don’t want to be confronted with sustainability mantras or their own carbon footprint at every corner they turn. We’re not here to preach to them. We do what we do best - offer them a beautiful escape from their daily lives.” His eyes glinted as he explained his vision.

Jimin continued, “Travelling is an indulgence. When people travel they want to be pampered. They want to feel special. The last thing they want is to have a mirror shoved in front of their face. They don’t want to sleep on scratchy cotton, just because it’s recycled. Not when they’re paying $300 a night.” Next to him Hoseok nodded in agreement. Jimin glanced over and gave him a small smile.

They are friends. You realized with a small pang. You immediately pushed that thought aside.

“But what they will be interested in is that the tomatoes in their $25 Insalata di Caprese are grown right in the rooftop gardens they visited in the morning. That the honey harvested from the 7th floor tastes floral whereas the honey from the 10th floor has a deep, rich aroma because the bees fly to the park facing west. They’ll be mesmerized to see that the calories they burn on our treadmills fuel the lights of the beautiful art installation in the courtyard below them. Depending on their exertion the art changes and evolves. They’ll be surprised when they realize that the filtered and recycled water pumped through the veins of the building, fueling the water installation, the swimming pool or their en-suite Jacuzzis, is grade A drinking water. We are increasing our guests’ sustainability literacy by taking them into a world of wonder, providing them luxury experiences and showing them that one doesn’t exclude the other.” Jimin paused briefly to take a drink from his coffee.

His eyes settled back on you as he set down his cup. “This is what my project Gaea is about. Modern Mother Nature in the palm of your hands. There’s more of course, but we don’t have to go into all of the details right now.”

There was a moment of silence as you let Jimin’s words sink in and thought about how to respond. You were surprised by his demeanor. Unlike some investors who thought that the millions in their pockets made them into walking gods, you knew he wasn’t a spoiled brat. The Jimin of your past has always been a hard worker. But this was different. There was a sense of conviction and passion in the way he talked about this project.

You decided to go with a safe response. “I never thought of you to be such tree-hugger and activist, Mr. Park.”

A slow smirk spread across his face. “Don’t misconstrue this, I’m not trying to play saint.”

You snorted dismissively at his remark. He was the golden boy, he always tried to play saint. And the people fell for it.

Hoseok gave the both of you a tentative look.

Jimin shrugged casually, “Above all, I’m interested in growing our company. Let me be clear - my goal is to be successful no matter what. Might as well make a difference while I’m at it.”

You tried hard to discern his intentions. Why was he trying to play the cold businessman when he was clearly passionate about this topic?

Focus. Focus on the work.

You went back to the briefing document and flipped through the pages again, putting your analyst brain to work. “This is an interesting concept. While not novel in the industry, the mixture of lifestyle, art, experience and luxury is definitely an untried combination. It could work…,” your voice trailed off in thought.

“But?” You lifted your head, Jimin gave you a piercing look. You were surprised by the earnestness you found in his face. He was interested to hear your opinion. Your intuition was right, this was clearly not just an investment project to him.

“It could also just be a trend, a fad. You’re investing $730 million here. Whatever you’re doing, you want it to stick the first time. Yes, concepts can be changed and the location we’re developing at is prime real estate. So it doesn’t lessen the value of the property, but it would damage your brand. It would still be considered a failure and that would stick to your name. I can’t stop you, but if you want to pursue this idea I would personally recommend you do some tests and market research first,“ you voiced your genuine concern. Regardless of how you felt about Park Jimin personally, you didn’t want to ill-advise your client.

Jimin’s grin returned and grew impossibly wider. He leaned forward and took another sip of coffee. “Is that concern I hear in your voice Y/N? I’m touched,” he said in mocking delight.

Maybe you were willing to make an exception with this client. What a cocky bastard.

“Thanks for worrying, but this will work. Do you really think our executive board would have approved that amount of money without asking exactly those questions and many more? Hoseok here grilled me like I was at the Spanish Inquisition before he agreed to work with me.”

His friend threw him an apologetic smile. “I’ve got a reputation and a career to uphold, man,” Hoseok insisted.

Jimin chuckled lightly and continued, “It won’t fail Y/N. What do you think I’ve been doing the last few years?”

I don’t want you here. You wouldn’t know. You didn’t care.

Focus.

“Research. It works, I’ve already proven it on a smaller scale.”

You perused his features. There was determination and confidence. Under any other circumstance you would’ve thought it was foolish confidence, but you also saw the way Hoseok looked at his business partner. If one of the world’s most renowned financial strategists had full faith in this endeavor, maybe so should you.

After you triple checked the numbers.

As if Hoseok read your mind he proposed, “Jimin, I suggest you ask Jungkook to send Ms. L/N the business case. I know it’s not strictly necessary, but she’s going to be part of the team, she signed your NDA. We should play with open cards.”

One heck of a team. To have Jung Hoseok as your financial advisor.

A new thought started to nag in the back of your head. Usually you would never ask, but this was Jimin you were talking about. You had to know.

“Why me?”

“Excuse me?”

“You mentioned you got my dad to agree to work with you. It mustn’t have been easy to convince him to break his principles. So why? Why go through all this effort?”

“Are you really asking me why I decided to hand a $730 million project to you on a silver platter?” Jimin asked in wry amusement.

Now that he put it that way, your question did sound dense. You brushed off the judgement. You had to know what you were getting yourself into. No way you were going in blind.

“Tell me,” you persisted, your face resolute.

He stared at you for a long moment, deliberating his answer.

“Actually Ms. L/N we decided to go…”

Jimin interrupted Hoseok, “I chose your company because you’re the best in the country, maybe even globally. We did an evaluation and you came out on top. Gaea is an important milestone for Park Corp., so I think it’s only obvious to go with the best to guarantee its success.”

You were surprisingly disappointed. What a textbook answer. You decided to dig deeper.

“I get why you chose to work with Spring Development, but this doesn’t answer the question why you specifically requested for me to work on this project.”

You remembered the heated discussion you had with your father. How you refused to blindly take on a client who you, and more importantly the internet, knew nothing about.

“Because you were recommended as the best,” Jimin simply said.

“Bullshit,” you fired back.

Jimin let out a low sigh and ran his fingers through his hair. “Why can’t you just let it go?” he muttered to himself.

You stiffened at his remark. What was that supposed to mean?

“It’s not bullshit. You were recommended as the best. I followed your Aquarium project,” he finally revealed.

He kept tabs on you? The Aquarium project? Normally you were pretty good at reading people, but deciphering this boy was becoming increasingly impossible.

“The Aquarium project was a disaster,” you retorted. You started to doubt this man’s sanity.

Hoseok coughed quietly and interrupted your exchange, “Ms. L/N I can understand your skepticism. You’re right the project was a disaster, but that was because the owner and investors were morons who didn’t listen to advice. It’s now up and running and it’s become profitable in less than 12 months. That’s a huge feat considering the circumstances. It shows that you can work under pressure, you’re creative and very good at what you do. Although we’ve assembled the best team, Gaea won’t be an easy undertaking. We want someone like you. We need someone like you.”

Jimin hummed in agreement.

This was not the answer you expected.

You straightened yourself up and made up your mind. Business was business, and Hoseok was right. This project was going to be a challenge. You loved a good challenge, and this was too good of an opportunity to let pass by. You were perfectly capable of keeping your private matters separate.

“Alright gentlemen, I look forward to working with you. Should I take you through our current development analysis?”

Next >>

°°°°°°°

12/04/20

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s-horne · 4 years

Text

In his defence, Tony was tired. He never slept well when Steve was away and Steve had been away for nearly a week. Sleep hadn’t been easy and Tony had been surviving on coffee and coffee alone.

With his ears still ringing from the loud music he’d had blasting in the workshop, he headed up to the kitchen slowly. He didn’t like to be in their house knowing that Steve wouldn’t be heading home at the end of the day and, with the mission as unsure as it was, no one had known when Steve would be finished.

Tony wasn’t expecting Steve to be home. He wasn’t expecting anyone to be home, which is why having an unexpected woman in his kitchen made him jump so high. Tony was a superhero. He had an iron suit of armour that he flew around the world to fight literal aliens. He shouldn’t have jumped so much at a single intruder.

Whilst a woman in his kitchen might have been low on someone else’s danger list, Tony could feel the last of his caffeine high wearing off. He also knew not to underestimate people; he’d made that dangerous mistake before.

They stood in silence for a long moment, the intruder standing at the other end of the kitchen, her palms flat on the counter between them. Tony blinked once, twice, keeping them closed for a second longer each time.

Every time he opened his eyes, she was still there.

“J?” he called out, keeping his wary gaze on the woman. “J, we have a guest.”

“Indeed, Sir.”

Tony only resisted rolling his eyes so that he didn’t have to take his gaze from his intruder. “And you didn’t alert me?”

The first thing that Tony had noticed was that her hair was long. It was well past her chest, a striking, dusty blonde that curled down to the very ends. The second thing was that she looked familiar, but Tony couldn’t place her.

It was no secret that Tony was attracted to women. Tony was pretty much attracted to every gender. But he was also an extremely happily married man and his eyes hadn’t strayed since he and Steve had gotten married. Since they’d gotten together. Even with that in mind, Tony couldn’t deny that the woman in his house was gorgeous.

It was in the eyes, he thought. The colour of them stood out even from so far away, bold and bright.

“I didn’t think it necessary, Sir,” JARVIS answered calmly, pulling Tony’s attention away from falling any deeper into the woman’s eyes, “given that Captain Rogers lives here.”

Tony’s eyes went wide. “Steve?”

The woman cracked a smile. “Hey, sweetheart.”

“Okay.” Tony dropped his empty mug back onto the table and smacked his lips. “Right. Let’s talk.”

Steve, or the female version of Steve, chuckled. The noise was higher than it ever had been before, musical in a much different way than Tony was used to. Tony knew Steve’s laugh. He knew Steve’s laugh in every way. Knew what it sounded like in his ear, knew what it felt like in his chest.

“Okay,” Steve echoed and Tony tried his hardest not to flinch. As gorgeous as the voice was, it wasn’t Steve’s. “I’m fine, by the way.”

A small smile tugged at the corner of Tony’s mouth. “Good. I couldn’t see any bandages, but that means nothing with you.”

Another laugh. “Not this time, darlin’. Promise. Just… well. This.”

Steve gestured down at his, her, body and Tony grimaced. Right. He needed more coffee.

“What happened?”

“I don’t know.”

“Bullshit.”

Steve jumped at Tony’s snapped answer. “What?”

“Bullshit. Steve always knows. He has an answer for everything.”

“I don’t,” Steve said softly, calmly. “I don’t have an answer for this.”

“My husband is in… I don’t know where he is, exactly, but he’s away. On a mission. He’s not in my kitchen and he’s not a woman.”

“Tony. Please, sweetheart. You know it’s me.” Steve reached a hand out and Tony’s gaze fell at the band around her finger. It was only a simple one, but Tony would recognise it anywhere. He let out a weird sort of snorted laugh when it clicked. It was a foreign noise, one that sounded like it had come from a different part of the room. From a different person, even. It wasn’t him… just like Steve wasn’t Steve.

“Nice ring.”

“Yeah,” Steve said, a smile clear in her voice. “Thanks. I kinda love it.”

They fell quiet again. Without looking up to Steve’s face, Tony called to JARVIS. “You ran everything, J?”

“I did, Sir. All reports sent to your StarkPad. I can conclude without a doubt that this is, in fact, Captain Rogers.”

The fact that the woman wasn’t fighting Tony or trying to protest her version of events added to the evidence in her favour and tipped the scales towards the fact that she was telling the truth. Steve knew that Tony couldn’t just be told something and instantly believe it. He needed facts and figures, needed cold, hard evidence in his hands.

He flicked through the reports that JARVIS had exported quickly, his eyes flickering up to the woman sitting opposite him every so often. Steve was sitting there calmly, hands curled around a mug of steaming coffee, ring clinking against the ceramic as Steve tapped absentmindedly.

“It’s you, isn’t it? Like, really you.”

Steve met Tony’s gaze. “Yeah. It really is.” Her tongue darted out to wet her lips and Tony couldn’t help but follow the movement. Steve’s lips had never been thin, but, as a woman, they were thicker than ever. A deep, dark pink that Tony wanted to bite at, make them a bold red instead. “We were close to finishing the mission when something went awry. Someone got wind of what we were doing or tipped off another group, I don’t know.”

Her hand reached up to sweep through her hair, but Steve had obviously forgotten about its new length and her fingers got tangled in the thick curls. The betrayed look on her face made Tony let out a startled laugh.

“Ouch. Well, anyway, someone must have– shit.” Steve tugged her hand again but all it served to do was yank on the roots.

Rising from his chair, Tony rounded the table wordlessly and lifted his hands to Steve’s hair. It felt the same, his mind noticed as he worked the strands quickly to untangle the curls and free Steve’s hand. When it was hanging loose down Steve’s back again, he stepped away and rooted quickly through a few of the drawers under the counter.

“Thank you,” Steve said, shaking her arm to dislodge a few casualties in the form of pulled-out hairs. “So, anyway, we think one of the groups that were told about our mission dabble in magic, or some form of it.”

Tony hummed before his fingers closed around what he’d been looking for and he let out a triumphant cry. “So you got hit by magic? A curse, maybe?”

“Pretty sure. None of us can be exactly certain because we didn’t see anything, but we didn’t eat or drink anything that wasn’t our SHIELD rations or made by one of us.” Steve’s speech ended in a soft gasp as Tony started working his hand through her thick curls.

“Sounds like it, then,” Tony said, fingers working quickly to plait Steve’s hair. “You know, your hair’s long. Like really long.”

Steve turned her head to lift an eyebrow in a perfect arch. Tony’s eyes were drawn to it, the reprimand for moving dying on the tip of his tongue. It was just another reminder that everything about Steve had changed. Even her eyebrows were thinner, a completely different shape to what they had been before. Tony swallowed and gently turned her head again so that she was looking away from him.

“Shut up,” he said, catching a few curls that had tried to break free, “it’s a big change. I’m not used to you having so much hair for me to grab.” He stopped himself as he realised how that sounded and did his best to push the dirty images that shot into his mind away. It was so not the time for that. “So, if you trust everyone on your team –”

“Which I do,” Steve cut in quickly.

“–then yes, it sounds as though it was magic. I don’t know of a serum or even a lab that’s working on this sort of thing, so it can’t be scientific. Who else knows what happened?”

“Probably most of SHIELD by now.” Steve sighed and her fingers danced around the rim of her discarded mug. “We had to abandon the mission, obviously, so we had to send in a report. I snuck away to come here, but they’ll need me soon. I’ll be summoned to a lab, I’m sure.”

Tony took a moment to collect his thoughts. He could admit that he wasn’t thrilled with the idea of his husband (wife?) being carted away like a circus attraction and poked and prodded by all manner of scientists.

“Yeah, that’s not going to happen,” he said. Pulling one hair band off his wrist, Tony tied the end of the plait before twisting it up into a bun. Or, at the very least, into a vague bun shape. He had done his best with the two, stretched-out hair bands that he’d remembered he’d had shoved in a drawer. He was often finding them after late-night business meals with Pepper, the ones where they cracked open a few bottles of wine to pour over new contracts. More often than not, they ended up with YouTube tutorials playing and Pepper’s hair tied in all manner of styles. “No partner of mine is going to SHEILD’s labs.”

With a hand raised to feel her new hair-do, Steve spun on her chair and treated Tony to a soft smile. “Gonna trap me in your own lab, huh, darlin’?”

“You know me.” God, she was beautiful. Her face was a lot softer than Steve’s was as a male, her cheekbones a little higher and a little less pronounced. Though Tony tried not to feel guilty for noticing her looks, he couldn’t quite push away the feeling that it wasn’t Steve.

“I do.” Steve reached out and took Tony’s hand, interlocking their fingers. For once, her hand was smaller than Tony’s. The callouses were there the same as ever, as were Steve’s nails bitten right down to the fingertips. They’d been working on that habit, but Tony didn’t think Steve would ever break it.

Tony wasn’t sure what he was supposed to do. He wasn’t sure what he was supposed to feel. This was still his partner, but it wasn’t at the same time. Who knew how long it was going to last? Would he ever have his Steve back or would he be with the female version forever?

It was a lot to process and far too much to deal with on the amount of sleep he’d been surviving on. He wanted a nap.

Pulling his hand from Steve’s, Tony turned to the counter. “Right. Let’s move this somewhere a little more comfortable.”

Steve’s body looked so much smaller when she was curled up in her favourite armchair.

The night before he’d left for his mission, Steve had sat in that same chair as he’d laughed along with some reruns of an old sitcom they’d found on an obscure channel after flicking through a few hundred. Neither of them had paid all that much attention to it after Tony had crawled into his lap and connected their lips in a deep kiss.

Now, with her legs folded under her body and covered by a thick blanket, Steve seemed to be swallowed by the huge cushions. Still as fearless and as strong as ever, Tony could tell that by one glance, but smaller.

“Do I call you… Steve?” Tony squinted, head titled to his side as he looked at his partner. “No. Stephanie? Steph?”

He was rewarded with raised eyebrows and complete derision over Steve’s face. “That’s your main concern?”

“No! Of course it’s not,” Tony said before pausing. “Yes, actually. Maybe it is. I don’t know. Christ, you can’t just drop this on me. It’s a lot to process.”

He threw his head back and stared at the ceiling. It was so much to get his head around. Too much.

“I think I’ll stick with Steve,” he said eventually and he got a soft laugh in return.

“Okay. Works for me.”

“Even now? You don’t mind it?”

“Course not, sweetheart. It’s my name, isn’t it? It’s what you’ve always called me. I’m never going to not want to hear that from you.”

That helped a little, but Tony still felt like he was on uneven ground. Who knew how long it was going to last? Would Steve ever change back? It wasn’t the person that Tony had married, physically at least.

Though it wasn’t exactly unnerving, it wasn’t normal. Well, it wasn’t even not normal. That wasn’t what Tony meant.

Actually, he had no clue what he meant. All he knew for certain was that his head hurt and thinking about the situation so deeply wasn’t helping.

“Can we go to bed yet?”

The concern was clear in Steve’s voice when she spoke. “Are you okay?”

Tony sighed, letting his head drop forward again. “Fine. Of course I’m fine. I’m always fine.”

“You haven’t been sleeping, have you?”

Of course Steve knew that. It seemed that whatever body Steve was in, Steve still knew Tony inside and out.

“You have no proof of that. But no, I haven’t been.” Tony grinned at Steve’s sigh, but his head was still pounding. “I’m going to bed.”

“Wow,” Steve said softly, brow furrowed and eyes staring straight at Tony. Her eyes were still the same. They still sparkled like they always had, still looked at Tony with the same mix of fondness and clear exasperation. “The world really has been knocked off its axis, if you’re willingly heading to bed.”

Tony huffed a weak laugh. Sleep sounded good to him. Sleeping for a week and waking up with Steve still away on his mission sounded even better.

Standing from his chair, he hid a yawn in the inside of his elbow and headed for the door.

Just before he crossed the threshold, he turned and held out a hand. “Coming?”

“Tony?”

Tony rolled onto his side to see Steve standing at the edge of the bed, hovering a little anxiously. She was wearing an old sweatshirt of Tony’s, which hung down past her hips and was falling off one shoulder. For the first time in their relationship, it seemed as though Tony’s clothes would actually fit Steve. That thought alone made something squirm in Tony’s stomach, a spark suddenly lit that threatened to ignite into a raging fire.

“Hi,” he said stupidly, voice a little breathier than he’d have liked. “Coming in?”

“You’re on my side.”

Tony snorted. Right. Same old Steve. “Sorry.” He shuffled backwards until there was enough room for Steve to crawl under the sheets. “You okay?”

“Yeah.” Steve’s tongue darted out to wet her lips, the spit glistening in the low glow from the beside lamp. “Just thinking about what to do next.”

Tony reached out and rested his hand across Steve’s eyes. “Sleep. Sleep is next.”

“We need to find out what–”

“We can do that tomorrow,” Tony said, words slurring a little as Steve playfully batted his hand away. Sleep was catching up to Tony, washing over him so easily with Steve back in their bed. It was just one more point in Steve’s favour; Tony felt so peaceful with her there, Steve’s mere presence enough to let Tony relax enough to sleep. “What we need to do now is sleep.”

There was a beat of silence. “You’re okay with me being in here?”

Tony forced himself to open his eyes again, battling to stay awake long enough to assemble his thoughts.

They were lying close in the bed, close enough to touch. When Steve rolled onto her side at the extended silence, Tony could feel her breath on his nose.

“I love you,” Tony said, the words rolling off his tongue as easily as they had on their wedding day. “I loved you in pictures from before the war. I’ve loved you as both Steve Rogers and Captain America, and I love you now. It’s you and me. No matter what.”

Steve smiled softly and they fell into a comfortable silence, Steve finally relaxing into the pillow. Just as Steve’s eyes closed and her breathing evened out, a thought struck Tony.

“Oh, God,” he said in horror, “I’m going to have to top again.”

***

(prompt from the Put on the Suit discord)

#STEVE WEARS SO MUCH PRODUCT IN THE FILMS YOU CANNOT TELL ME HIS HAIR IS NOT CURLY FIGHT ME #i wrote a thing #stony fic #steve rogers #tony stark #stephanie rogers #stony #stevetony fic #stevetony #an april assortment #genderbend #genderswap #established stony

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fandomstuff67 · 4 years

Text

Another fix it fic for 15x20

Hey guys! I’ve written another fix it and this time Cas comes to save Dean before he died. As usual read below or on Ao3

Bed of Roses Word Count: 1.8k

Dean could feel it, the rebar, digging deeper into his heart with every breath. He really hadn’t expected today to be the day that he’d bite it, but then again he’d always known he’d go out on a hunt, today was as likely as any other day.

“I need you to tell me…” he gasped out, gripping at Sam’s jacket, “it’s okay.”

It didn’t matter how many times he’d died in the past, he was still scared. He still didn’t know what awaited him in the afterlife, he didn’t know where he’d end up. He hated this, he hated that he hadn’t thought about the placement of the rebar in the heat of the moment, he hated that he was stupid enough to charge that vamp head on like that.

After everything, he didn’t want to go like this, he didn’t want to watch Sam slowly fall apart in front of him, he didn’t want to leave Sam with that grief, but it was his time and he was okay with that.

“Dean…” Sam choked out, tears dripped down his cheeks and Dean wished he could reach up to brush them away, to comfort his little brother in this moment, but he could barely keep his lungs working anymore, and his heartbeat was slowing. He just needed to hang on a little bit longer, just long enough to hear Sam tell him it was okay, he just needed to know it was okay. “It’s-”

Sam didn’t get to finish his sentence because he was interrupted by the unmistakable sound of wings fluttering in the air. Dean couldn’t see anything around Sam, but Sam turned to look and Dean watched surprise flash over his features. Footsteps brushed against the barn floor and Sam stepped aside so Dean could see who it was.

The pain in his chest was momentarily forgotten as shock and hope flooded through him. “Cas?”

Cas smiled, blue eyes shining as he stopped in front of Dean and placed two fingers on his forehead. “Hello, Dean.”

An overwhelming surge of grace poured into his body and he fell forward into Cas’ arms, who then pulled him away from the rebar as he felt the wound heal. He gasped into Cas’ chest and his fingers curled into the soft fabric of his trench coat, never wanting to let go.

“Is this real?” he asked as he held Cas tighter.

“Yes,” Cas replied.

“You’re alive?” he gasped out as what were once tears of pain became tears of joy.

“I am.”

Dean finally pulled away, just enough to look into Cas’ eyes. “How?”

“Jack,” Cas answered, a twinkle in his eyes.

“Of course,” Dean breathed through a small chuckle. He let his hands loosen just a little on Cas’ coat, enough for him to step back slightly. “Cas… when you… left… I didn’t… I’m sorry I didn’t say anything.”

“You didn’t need to,” Cas replied softly.

Dean shook his head. “No, but that’s just it Cas, I did need to, because I love you too.”

Cas smiled, it was just as bright and beautiful as it had been when he’d let the empty swallow him. “I never thought I’d hear you say it.”

“I’m sorry I never said it before.”

“You don’t need to apologize,” Cas replied.

“Yeah well, still, let me make it up to you.”

Dean let his hands make their way up to Cas’ face where they rested for a moment before he pulled the angel into a kiss. It was sloppy and desperate, but perfect and incredible at the same time, and when they pulled apart Dean couldn’t help but laugh, Cas joined in and then Dean was hugging him again, holding onto him like if he ever let go Cas would vanish in a shadow of black goo again.

“Um,” Sam cleared his throat and Dean suddenly snapped back into the reality where he realized his brother had been watching this whole thing unfold.

Dean turned away from Cas, but he made sure to slip his hand into the angel’s, still keeping that contact between them. “Sorry, Sammy.”

Sam only smiled. “Don’t be, I’m glad you both finally sorted your shit out and I’m happy you’re back, Cas.” Dean grinned and let go of Cas’ hand so he could pull Sam into a hug. “It’s all going to be okay now, Dean,” Sam said, a smile in his voice.

Dean nodded as he clapped Sam on the back and pulled away. “Let’s go get those boys out of here, huh?”

“Yeah,” Sam replied as he looked from Dean to Cas, “let’s.”

****

Dean shifted his feet on the hay strewn ground, his nerves were firing on all cylinders and he swallowed hard to dislodge the lump rising in his throat.

Today was the day he thought he’d never get to have, the day he was going to marry the love of his life. They’d thought it fitting to do it in the barn they’d first met in, and even though Dean had spent months trying to prepare himself for this moment, he was still shaking.

He could smell the white rose that was pinned to his lapels, the rose that Cas had insisted he wear. Cas had also insisted on Dean in a dark red suit while he himself wore a white one, with a red rose.

Dean looked over at Sam, who was standing proud beside him, with Miracle at his feet, a black bow tie around his neck, and gave him a nod, which Sam returned. “You’ve got this,” Sam whispered.

“I hope so,” Dean replied.

When the music started and Dean turned to look at the barn doors as the split open once again, as Castiel emerged, clad in his suit, a bright smile on his face, and walked towards him, Dean knew that this was going to be the beginning of the best years of his life.

Jody had graciously agreed to officiate their wedding, and when Dean took Cas’ hands in his, and let their eyes meet, he felt every bubble of nervousness pop within him. He was about to commit to spending the rest of his life with Cas, and he had never been more sure about doing anything in his life.

Their vows were simple, merely a few promises uttered to open air, solidifying the most profound bond to ever exist on Earth. Their kiss was magical, and applause ran out through the barn. When they turned around, hand in hand, and looked at their found family, the family they’d worked so hard to expand and grow, he was sure he’d never felt happier.

Music started up from speakers around the barn and everyone stood to move their chairs out of the way while Dean and Castiel faced each other for their first dance.

Bed of Roses, but Bon Jovi began to filter through the air and Dean let his head fall to Cas’ shoulder while Cas wrapped one hand around his waist and held Dean’s hand with his other.

The first verse passed with them just rocking to the music, Dean drinking in the feeling of Cas’ hands around him and the press of his new ring on his finger. But when the second verse began, Dean moved to look at Cas, letting themselves separate just slightly, so they could lock eyes.

With an ironclad fist, I wake up and French kiss the morning.

While some marching band keeps its own beat in my head.

While we’re talking, about all of the things that I long to believe.

About love and truth and what you mean to me.

And the truth is, baby you’re all that I need.

“You’re all that I need,” Cas said and Dean smiled.

As the chorus played and they swayed together, Dean began to hum to the music, and he let their foreheads come together, he let the air between them become the same, and he pressed a kiss to Cas’ soft lips.

He could smell the roses between them and the scent of his own cologne and Cas’, he could feel the eyes of their friends on their backs, but they soon melted away, and it suddenly felt like it was just the two of them, alone in this barn, the place they’d first met, the place where both their lives changed for the better, the place where it all began.

The next verse spun around them as they swayed.

Well I’m so far away, that each step that I take is on my way home.

A king’s ransom in dimes I’d given each night, just to see through this payphone.

Still I run out of time, or it’s hard to get through.

Till the bird on the wire flies me back to you, I’ll just close my eyes and whisper… Baby blind love is true.

“Baby, blind love is true,” Dean murmured, only loud enough for Cas to hear. Cas grinned and Dean grinned back.

“Yes, it is,” Cas agreed.

Once the song ended and they separated, the music shifted and everyone came onto the dance floor. Sam and Eileen came first, followed by Claire and Kaia, and Charlie and Stevie came after and Jody even got Bobby to dance. Donna had dragged Doug to the wedding and they were swaying beside Jody and Bobby. Pretty soon everyone was dancing to the music and Dean looked around the room in awe at just how many people had turned up.

Eventually, the dance partners switched up and Dean let Cas be pulled away by Claire, who demanded that she have a chance to dance with him. Dean swung Donna in for a loop and Sam pulled Jody in close as she let out a whoop of laughter.

“I’m real happy for ya, Dean,” Donna said.

“Thanks,” Dean grinned as he snuck a glance at Cas spinning Claire in close.

They danced the night away and tables were set up with food and drinks. It was nothing special, just pizza and cheap beer, but it was perfect and Dean wouldn’t want it any other way.

As the night wore itself out and people began to bid the newly weds goodnight, Dean and Cas lingered, locked in each other’s arms and when it was finally just the two of them, left to their own devices, Dean slipped his hand into Cas’ and led him from the barn towards where Baby was parked.

“Come on, let’s go for a drive.”

Dean drove them to an empty field, where they intended to watch the stars but ended up making out in the backseat where Dean fell asleep on top of Cas and Cas spent the night smoothing back Dean’s hair and kissing him softly as he watched over him.

****

It was a long life they led, spent with family and laughter, and when Dean finally breathed his last and entered Heaven, Cas flew up to join him. Sam and Eileen followed in their wake not long after and they spent the rest of eternity sipping beers in the Roadhouse, surrounded by all the friends and family they’d lost along the way.

Tag list (ask to be added or removed):

@anotherdowneyfan1 @tearsofgrace @quxxnxfhxll @rebelangel67 @professorerudite @adsdragonlover @wantstoflyafraidtofall @goblinwritergay

#Supernatural #spn #fix it fic for 15x20 #destiel #happily ever after #supernatural fanfic #spn fanfic #fanfiction #fanfic #deancas #casdean #bed of roses #fandom stuff on ao3 #my writing #fix it

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quixotic-writer · 4 years

Text

Adult Entertainment (part 2)

request: basically everyone

summary: Sal had made a bold statement saying he could last longer than Q watching porn. They both decide to put those words to the test and placed a bet in typical joker fashion: loser gets punished by the winner.

Warning: Smut ahead!

———————————————————

It had been about a week since their porn escapades that doubled as a steamy night in and they were ready for their next challenge, one that Sal had proposed afterwards: how much could they handle before they came undone untouched?

Rules were worked out between the two: They weren’t allowed to cum for a whole week to up the challenge, their hands were to be restrained the night of, they both would have their own dildo to use for some sort of pleasure (Sal suggested it), they would both throw together a playlist of porn to play for them to watch on the couch together. They would have no clue what videos they put into the playlist for the other so when they finally put themselves to the test, they would each be pleasantly surprised. Bottom line was: first one to cum gets a punishment. Simple and clean cut rules and regulations for another hot night.

Knowing the rules, it didn’t stop them from finding certain loop holes that they both didn’t mind but drove them crazy. There was only two words to describe the excruciating week: Edging and teasing. Sal’s favorite thing to do was to bend over in front of Q, giving him a full show of his ass or “accidentally” grind his ass against Q at any opportunity he could. The farthest he’s gone to torture Q was waking him up with a surprise blow job and pulling away to go and shower once he was close, this was the moment where Q almost lost his mind. As for Sal, Q would start talking dirty to him, sweet nothings serenading him and tantalizing his senses, then he would start rubbing his hands over his bulge and sometimes go as far as to start jerking him off. The moment Sal was close to cumming, he would back away and just leave him in that desperate state and quickly reminded him of the week’s rules. A taste of his own medicine.

By the time the seven days were finally done and over with, they felt so sensitive and as though the mere thought of release would be enough to get them hard and close.

They gathered all their things for the evening in the living room, the screen was already lit up and loaded up with their filthy playlist of porn, the blinds were drawn to a close to hide their dirty shenanigans from wandering eyes, and both men were stripped down to their boxers each sporting a semi hard on.

“How you feeling about this baby?” Q questions to Sal as he helps tie up his arms behind his back.

“Like this is going to be the hardest i’ve cum since my teenage years.” He jokes. His wrists are tightly (but safely) bound behind his back and the sensation of the restraint turns him on. Q helps remove his boxers and sees already how hard Sal is and feels himself twitch at the sight. “You don’t need to prep me by the way, got that bit covered.” Sal gives him a wink and Q felt his soul leave his body, but little did Sal know that Q had a surprise up his own sleeve.

Sal managed to help sloppily and loosely handcuff Q despite his arms being behind his back, he got on his hands and knees and took the band of his boxers between his teeth and gently pulled them down allowing Q to spring to life. When Q turned around to go sit on the couch, Sal felt as though he could’ve unraveled right then and there.

“Brian Quinn you naughty man.” In between the mountains of flesh tucked away was a butt plug that Q had snuck inside of him earlier that day to prep himself.

“Wasn’t used to having something in me, so I took the extra step.” Q reaches for the toy and slowly pulls it out, sad that he feels so empty, but eager knowing something better is to come. “Well Sally boy, time to put your money where your mouth is. Lets see which one of us can last longer.” Q sat himself on a dildo, slowly sinking down relishing in the full sensation of it all with a low hum. Sal joins in next to him with his own toy slowly entering him until he was fully seated with the toy poking at his prostate, making him close his eyes and bite his lip.

They take a moment to catch their breath and stare at the screen with a thumbnail of the video to play with a giant pause symbol over it. They look at each other, then to their tied up arms, then to the remote sitting on the coffee table in front of them.

“Brian Michael Quinn if you do what I think you’re about to do.” All Q does is smile and take his foot and press the play button on the remote with his big toe. Sal looks to him in disgust and makes a mental reminder to sanitize the shit out of the remote after all is said and done.

The first video begins and it was Q’s first pick: A basic vanilla porn, missionary position, minimal action, just something to get the blood pumping. Q sat in his seat and shifted slightly and felt as the toy moved around inside of him, gently grazing that special bundle of nerves, he bit his lip and hummed. Sal was trying to resist all urges to start bouncing on his toy and finally get the release he craved, but he was stubborn enough to hold himself back just to prove a point. Video one was short and over with pretty fast, but it did leave the two standing at full attention and already leaking pre-cum at the tip.

Next was Sal’s choice in video, things were slowly starting to pick up now. It was the same video of that girl riding a guy the first time they had watched porn together a week ago. Memories flooded quickly into Sal’s head that sent shockwaves to his cock and he found himself bouncing a little to release some tension. When his eyes glanced over to Q, he watched as his dick twitched in agony, now was time to play a little dirty.

“Brian, Nothing will ever compare to the way you fucked me hard that night. The way your hard cock slammed into my tight hole and filled me right up, fuck Bri, it drives me mad just thinking about it.” Sal spoke in a sultry seductive tone and watched as Q’s eyes began to haze with lust and his hips began to flick upwards in search of pleasure. He remembered the sensation vividly and recalled the way Sal felt and looked that night, the way he channeled a whole new side of him that was so sexually charged, and the dirty talk. The dirty talk is what turned him on the most, the way Sal described how horny and desperate he was without him. “Seems that you’re thinking about it too, huh? Thinking about slamming into me until i’m a whining mess below you begging to cum because i’ve been teased all week, watching me lose control in your arms and knowing you’re the one that made me unravel.” Sal kept painting such a clear picture for Q and he felt himself getting closer and closer to the euphoria he’s sought for a whole week.

But the realization that he was so close made him stop all his movements. Despite the disappointment and feeling the welling sensation die down in his pelvis, he knew what Sal was trying to play, and he refused to lose for such a pitiful reason, he would prove he had more self control. Q brought himself back down and watched the rest of the video through and knew his next choice was coming up on the queue.

When the video began, Sal’s senses felt heightened and as though his pores were shooting out lightning. Q bit his lip and smirked as he watched Sal begin to frivolously bounce on the couch next to him. Checkmate.

On occasion if the couple was feeling extra daring or knew they’d be apart for a while, they would whip out whoever’s phone was closest and hit record. It was their own personal collection of self made porn that they would indulge in whenever the mood struck them individually. Q had built up quite the collection and often turned to it when his imagination just wasn’t enough to get him off. Now he used it as his personal ammunition, and he knew he was getting exactly what he wanted.

The screen was lit up with the low quality phone footage of Sal bobbing his head up and down on Q’s dick. Filthy wet noises emanating out of Sal as he took Q further and further into his mouth making the man above him a filthy moaning mess.

“Fuck baby, your pretty little mouth feels so good around my cock. Come on now, you can take a little more darling, I know you can.” His voice is smooth and baritone, he speaks softly as a hand comes into frame and tangles into his hair and brings him down more soliciting a few gags from Sal as his nose hit Q’s stomach.

Sal at this point was fucking the toy inside of him like his life depended on it with the video playing fueling him further. He forgot all about the bet, he didn’t care if he lost, he didn’t care what his punishment would be, he wanted one thing now and he was focused on getting it. Q knew at this point he had gotten what he wanted, and all he wanted now was to watch the man he loved unravel before him. He smiled in victory and had already began plotting his special arrangements for Sal once this was all over.

“Sal, please, if you keep that up i’m gonna bust baby.” Sal felt heat rising fast in his abdomen, each time Q’s voice echoes from the TV, he felt it building quicker. His hips bucked in desperation

“Sally baby, are you close?” Sal lets out a whine in response unable to form actual words. It was enough to give Q an answer. “Look at you, getting off watching yourself pleasure me. Sensitive and desperate, so easily submissive to your desires. You’re a dirt little slut for me aren’t you? Do it then Sally baby. Cum for me on the dildo just like you did when you were horny and needy.” And just like that, with mere words and another slam of his hips downward, Sal was sent into blinding ecstasy. His torso going tense as he hunched over at the relieving sensation, hot thick ropes of white shooting out of him hard.

He collapses on his side allowing the toy to slip out of him gasping for breath feeling the energy draining quickly as sweat drips down the temples of his head. Q manages to slip his hands out of the cuffs that were (thankfully loosely wrapped around his wrists and get up off the couch to untie Sal.

“Are you okay? Did that feel good?” Sal, still in a haze smiles and nods and takes a gentle hand to Q’s cheeks and brings him in for a kiss. “Do you think you could handle more?”

“I haven’t cum in a week and i’ve got a lot of pent up energy.” Q’s eyes go dark as he gives his signature devilish grin to the man in his arms.

“Well then, my love. It’s time for your punishment then.”

———————————————————

A/N: I know this is a wee bit shorter than what I normally write ( ; w ; ) I was planning on adding the punishment to this part, but I decided why not make that a whole part in itself.. either that or i’ll come in and edit this to attach that extra bit. I’ve been slightly busy these pst few days but I just wanted to get something on here for my non-wattpad/ao3 users

#brian quinn #sal vulcano #vulquinn #smut #suki writes

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spaceorphan18 · 4 years

Note

What do you think are the most underrated glee songs? Like, they’re awesome and why doesn’t fandom love them more?

Oh this is such a neat ask! Let’s see, I think I’m going to list performances that I think are pretty good, but I don’t see people talking about as much. You’re not going to see much Klaine on this list -- mostly, at least around these parts, I think their performances do get the recognition they deserve.

Season 1:

Push It (Showmance) - It’s really quite funny

Bust Your Windows (Acafellas) - Mercedes first gets to shine

Maybe This Time (Rhodes Not Taken) - Lea and Kristen Chenoweth kill this one.

Dancing With Myself (Wheels) - I just like this Artie solo

Smile (Mattress) - I think both versions in the episode are pretty good, and one is a rare Finchel duet I enjoy

Hello (Hello) - Lea and Jonathan Groff are amazing together

Open Your Heart/Borderline (Power of Madonna) - I just wanna talk about all the Madonnas in the hallway

4 Minutes (Power of Madonna) - Kurt and Mercedes get their sexy on, and I don’t feel like that’s appreciated enough

Run Joey Run (Bad Reputation) - I mean, you guys, this might be one of the funniest things they show ever did, and the fact that the point was missed by so many made sure the show rarely did straight up comedy numbers again

Dream a Little Dream of Me (Dream On) - Artie w/Tina and Mike dancing, it’s cute and bittersweet

Season 2

Sing (Duets) - It’s a super cute duet between Tina and Mike

Forget You (The Substitute) - Idec that it’s Holly, I love this one

Make ‘Em Laugh (The Substitute) - I don’t think Matthew Morrison gets enough credit for how talented he is.

Just the Way You Are (Furt) - I’m not a huge fan of Finn’s singing - so I kinda of like to acknowledge when he does a good job, and I really like this one.

The Living Years (Special Education) - The Hipsters rock it, man

Only Child (Original Song) - It is what is, okay?!

Jesus is My Friend (Original Song) - I’m giggling just thinking about it

Bubble Toes (Night of Neglect) - Mike’s dance number is fantastic

Ain’t Now Way (Night of Neglect) - Merecedes’ numbers end up in the worst episodes, and it’s a shame, because sometimes they get overlooked.

I’ve Gotta Be Me (Born This Way) - this song gets forgotten among the true gems during this episode, but it’s a nice Finn and Mike number

Nice To Meet You, Have I Slept With You (Rumours) - This is another hilarious original song done by April and Will often forgotten.

Friday (Prom Queen) - As a boy band song, it really works

Season 3

Anything Goes/Anything You Can Do (The Purple Piano Project) - it’s truly amazing -- especially for an unknown guest start that’s basically one and done.

Spotlight (Asian F) - Another Mercedes solo that I think flies under the radar.

You and I (Mash Off) - Will and Shelby duet, the adult stuff often gets overlooked I think.

We Are Young (Hold Onto 16) - It was probably over played on the radio at the time, but I think they did a fantastic job with the cover, and it works well as a group number.

We Found Love (Yes/No) - Wemma gets a bad rap a lot of the times, but I think this actually really works, and is a nice scene

The Rain in Spain (Choke) - You guys, it’s a heavy metal cover of a classic song, I’m not the only one who finds that hilarious, right?

Mean (Props) - Beiste and Puck singing a duet that fits their story well, but since we don’t talk about these storylines much, this rarely comes up.

Starships (Nationals) - Unique is on fire, and I liked VA’s set more than ND’s.

Season 4

Call Me Maybe (The New Rachel) - idec, I love it and find it amazing and it energizes me, shut up.

Busters Get Popped (The New Rachel) - still giggling

Chasing Pavements (The New Rachel) - I think Melissa Benoist got a raw deal having to be paired against Lea Michele, but I think she has a lovely voice, and really brings this one alive.

Everybody Talks (Role You Were Born to Play) - it’s a nice song and a nice duet between Kitty and Jake

Whistle (Thanksgiving) - okay it’s not a good song, but my god does it make me laugh every time I hear it

O Holy Night (Swan Song) - Clearly, I’m not putting Rachel songs on this list, but this one -- I’m giving her this one. This is beautiful and fantastic in all the right ways, and one of my favorite Rachel solos of the series. One of the few times she’s not over emoting a serious song, and it’s a nice relief.

Don’t Dream It’s Over (Swan Song) - It’s a bittersweet song that I think really works for the tone of the moment.

Torn (Naked) - what another Rachel solo?? Yeah, visually, the duet with herself is really striking

Not Getting Married Today (I Do) - Let’s give Jayma Mays a second of recognition for her ability to do this one.

You’re All the World to Me (Girls and Boys on Film) - Will and Emma duet that is notable for the choreography alone

How to Be a Heartbreaker (Feud) - the cinematography and choreography is unlike anything else on the show, so I find it fascinating.

I Still Believe/Superbass (Feud) - I mean, let’s give Jane Lynch credit for spoofing Nikki Minaj, I mean, c’mon

Everybody Hurts (Lights Out) - I don’t like Ryder, and I really don’t like the actor who portrays him, but this acoustic version of the song is really fantastic.

Superstition (Wonderful) - Mercedes, Blaine, and Marley on this Stevie Wonder classic that, again, flies under the radar a bit

Rainbow Connection (All or Nothing) - Glee snuck in a cover done by a third party participant at Regionals that’s really good, and you probably didn’t even know it.

Season 5

If I Were a Boy (End of Twerk) - A lot of the newbie stuff gets (understandably) overlooked, but Unique’s version of this is emotional and haunting and often forgotten about

What The Fox Says (Puppet Master) - I don’t think this is as bad as everyone would have you believe.

Away In a Manager (Previously Unaired Christmas) - I rarely give props to this episode for anything, but this was really well done, and the only song from this episode that I’ll listen to.

Don’t Rain on My Parade (Frenemies) - Yes, it’s a jazzier/pop version of the song, but I think Santana does better with it than people give her credit for.

Hold On (Trio) - I freakin’ love this group number. It’s amazing.

Toxic/Defying Gravity/Valerie (100) - lumping them together because I actually enjoy all of these better than the originals. Oops.

Loser Like Me (New Directions) - Yes, the lyrics are terrible, but I love this arrangement of it

LoveFool (Opening Night) - Omg, another Rachel solo - this one is also hilarious

Season 6

Tightrope (Homecoming) - Jane can really sing, these new newbies bring it

Home (Homecoming) - I think it’s a super tight group number that doesn’t get mentioned often, but really works.

Bitch (Hurt Locker 1) - There has never been a more perfect Sue song. Not sure if it’s underrated? But wanted to point out that it’s notable.

At Last (A Wedding) - really the best part of that ceremony

The Final Countdown (Rise and Fall of Sue Sylvester) - It’s nice that they included one last comedic performance

Listen to Your Heart (We Built This Glee Club) - I’m glad Rachel and Jesse got one last number together

Take Me to Church/Chandelier/Come Sail Away (We Built This Glee Club) - I think the New New Directions last competition set list was pretty good!

So, uh, yeah - didn’t see it on here? I probably really loved it and everyone knows that or I don’t think it’s that great to be remember, lol

What are your favorite underrated songs?

#Anonymous #great question nonny!#that's how s.o. sees it

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prince-toffee · 4 years

Text

Fallin’ For A Fallin’ Angel

Perfect.

Another day, another three hour meeting with the Hillian Council. Yet another time Niro has been forced to listen to the idiotic and outdated ramblings of the Council’s Priests, or ‘High Priests’ or ‘Grand Priests’, whatever their full damn title was. He hated them. With every fibre in his body. Just hearing their proposals and demands sparked flames that burned through his chest. He was King! For crying out loud! He shouldn’t have been able to be chained and caged like this, imprisoned in his own Council Room, in his own castle, IN HIS OWN KINGDOM! He was the monarch of this land, it’s King! Yet he felt trapped, thanks to the devious and manipulative web spun across the oceans of politics and government. He felt powerless in his own throne, well that was because he was utterly powerless, the title of King didn’t mean much, it was an honorary title, the Priests were the ones whom truly held the power.

Niro attempted to circumvent their laws and rules - he had a child. More importantly a daughter - a Princess. The teenage girl held more power than him, Princesses ruled this world, and the Princesses were ruled by a Queen. But one thing at a time. Through Amanda he managed to control certain things, but not the entire chessboard. Of course one of the things he was unable to control was the participation, attendance, timing and frequency of Council Meetings. And so he was trapped, punished for being a leader of his people.

Niro immediately knew it was going to be a bad day, he didn’t believe in a higher power, but he had that feeling, that the world was against him. Started with the knot in his neck when he woke up, then being called to attend a morning meeting, which took half an hour longer than usual. Something about a red streak flashing across the night sky a few weeks back. Apparently it was an omen of bad things to come. The worship ceremonies and the communities which indulged in them were becoming more and more unnerved and panicky. Spouting messages of the end times. Niro used all the strength in his mind and soul not to reply, ‘So want’s new?’ in the most sarcastic way possible.

He plastered on a fake smile, the best one he had, and powered through the encounter. Not giving a thought to the rambling old scorpions. Eventually after what felt like an eternity, the suffering ended. He practically power-walked out of the room, making as much distance between the robed men as possible. Once he made it past the first turn of the hallway he gave out a relieved sigh. Out of the blast zone.

Another day, another day he walked out past the town square monument of Queen Angella of BrightMoon, he despised that statue. He often just scowled at it from afar from his balcony. There she was, every day, at the centre, at the heart of HIS kingdom. The Immortal Angel. She had no place here, she and her people in no way contributed to Scorpion Hill. When his mother begged on her knees for the Queen to aid them, nothing came. Hillians were always on their own, never received help from foreign powers, never needed it - but that was just Niro’s pride talking. The kingdom did need help. The supplies of water were running low, as were building materials. The kingdom shrank with each year. Without proper financial support in the desert’s drastic conditions, towns and villages couldn’t have been repaired. Sandstorms, sink holes... raids. The land faced many issues, all of which Niro felt helpless and powerless to stop or improve.

And so settlements were abandoned. People decided to migrate closer inward to the heart of the Scorpion Hill Kingdom. Which stood as Angella. That wasn’t right. The runestone was meant to represent the kingdom’s beating heart, the castle that surrounded it and the hill on which it was built apon.

Another day poverty and homelessness were running rampant, increasing to new heights. Niro needed a blessing. Or a distraction from the morbid topic. Luckily he got one, in the form of his daughter who snuck up on him from behind. Gave him quite a fright. He railed back, placing a claw on his chest making sure his heart didn’t leap out of his ribcage. Anger didn’t surface even for a moment, he burst out laughing even before Amanda did. The two shared a moment of mirth, just for a few seconds the world lit up, and it wasn’t too bad. Amanda gave him a knowing look and Niro rolled his eyes, he knew what it meant. Perhaps this wasn’t going to be too bad of a day.

His daughter practically dragged him to her fitting room to show off her new line of clothing. He agreed to be her model. What could he say, the kid had a talent, and they didn’t spend enough time together, some perfect moment for father daughter bonding. ‘Anda had plenty on her plate as a Princess, her duties as a royal, as a leader of a nation came first, but the girl had other aspirations and dreams. Well, she was more of a woman now, but Niro couldn’t quite lit his little baby go yet. Little girl, it was.

Niro admitted that he wasn’t a big dress fan, but when he tried them on, honestly, not too bad. ‘Anda was going to change the world, he knew that, he saw it in her eyes. That same spark that burned in his own eyes, but it was freer, she could do things he never could. She could fight back in ways he couldn’t. She was stronger than him.

“I don’t know, ‘Anda.” Niro looked over his back and then at the bare thigh exposed by the side slit in the dress, “I don’t think it fits me. I think I’ll just wear my armour to the Princess Prom. Same as always.” His daughter emerged from her closet, traversing the hilly terrain of cloths she threw around. Clutching her arms she held yet another dress, she claimed with confidence that this one was THE one. Niro reminded her she said that the first twenty times. But she assured him that it was perfect now. The King gave way, he could never win arguments with her, he couldn’t say no to that face.

Somewhere around the fourth following dress, the two heard a knock on the door frame, which caught their attention. Their heads swung around to see an overseeing figure at the door. How did she open the door without him noticing? How long was she been standing there?! Her face guard was covering it up with dark cloth, but he could practically see her grinning. He felt demeaned, a King found in a dress, the embarrassment was unbearable.

“Can I help you Force-Captain?” Niro asked not keeping eye contact. He retreated back into the small changing cubical and slide the curtain close after him.

Opal found it quite amusing. She gave a slight nod to the Princess, Amanda returned with a small wave. This didn’t seem like the right situation to indulge in a friendly conversation, so Opal just spoke directly to the King himself, “Your majesty, there is a matter that requires your attention.”

“Can’t it wait?” The disembodied voice from beyond the curtain asked with as much frustration as it could’ve mustered. The noise of zippers and fabric folding could have been heard from behind, alongside a few bumps and clanks along the way. Opal was never going to let him live this down.

“I could take care of it.” Amanda stated pointing her thumbs back at herself, in a jokey manner, “Available Princess waiting on stand by.” She said as she wiggled her shoulders.

“Thanks, Amanda, but this one needs your father. Top-top-secret-classified-stuff. When you get the throne, you’ll be drowning in these fun little puzzles too. Enjoy your youth.” Opal stated as she waved the file in her hand.

The curtain pulled back and Niro marched out. He gave Amanda a light playful noogie, ruffing up her black straightened hair as he passed her. “See you at dinner pumpkin!” He said his farewell and marched past Opal dismissively. The Force-Captain rolled her eyes and marched forward alongside the King. She passed him the yellow file folder without a word. Niro of course took it, opened it and began to look through it.

“You’re not mad are you?” Opal raised her eyebrow at her King, her voice trembling with the vibration of laughter coming up through her vocal cords. She found the circumstance hilarious in a way. Niro remained silent, trying to focus on the sheets of paper of information and their tiny ink squiggles. But he couldn’t quite. He wasn’t mad. Why would he be mad? He was happy for Amanda, he wasn’t over-bearing or over-protective, he was a cool dad, cool, he was cool. He was happy for them.

“You know, about the whole...” Opal continued to push the matter, forcing Niro’s blood pressure to rise, “My daughter going out with yours. The fact that we could be family soon.” The possibility of that future made a few rubber bands snap inside Niro’s head.

He changed the subject immediately, “What’s this?” He lifted the file up. He flipped a page to reveal a picture paperclipped to the side. The photo framed a distant, dark, jagged object in the middle of the desert. Niro squinted, trying to make sense of what he was seeing. It wasn’t like anything he’d ever seen, clearly not a rock or a cliff, ruins of First Ones technology perhaps. Or some kind of outpost for the raiders?

“Armageddon. Well, at least that’s what the Priests are saying.”

Niro scoffed and rolled his eyes, passing the file back over to Opal completely disinterested, “I told you I don’t care about their moronic superstition. I haven’t seen my daughter in days, because of this work schedule and you interrupted me for THIS? Ramblings of old mad men? What el-”

“Niro.” She interrupted, “This thing crash landed there.” The scorpion King stopped in his tracks. Machinery that could actually fly? Astonishing. But the astonishment didn’t last long, his mind began to race and consider worst case scenarios. What if one of their enemies have discovered the gift of flight. Was this a test run? And so close to them, in Hillian territory? Absolute dread washed over the King, all he could think to ask himself was: Did this mean war was coming? Did BrightMoon or Dryl or Salineas finally snap, did they finally get fed-up with Niro’s insults and unattendance? This was bad. Very bad. He turned to Opal wearing his worried face, she saw it and read. “Whatever that thing is, it doesn’t bare any insignias of any known Kingdoms.” The cogs turned again, that was good, that meant no imminent war while Scorpion Hill is disorganised. But, also bad news, an unknown threat.

“Is it First Ones?”

“We don’t know. It’s too far out.”

“What do you mean TOO far out?! Assemble a detachment and survey the area! I don’t understand w-”

“Niro, we DID sent a detachment in... the thing is they DIDN’T come back.”

The King of Scorpion Hill fell silent. An unknown opponent had just entered the game, right under his nose, no less. This couldn’t mean anything good. A full detachment, at least dozen missing. Maybe dead, since no ransom demands were made. Everyday he felt his Kingdom crumble beneath his feet, control slipping from his grasp, all his life he felt so weak, like he had nothing to contribute to his Kingdom, to his people. Another day, another failure.

But not this time, today was a day for change. Niro turned to Opal and barked an order, “Prepare my horse. I am leaving to investigate this at once.”

“But-”

“Did I not make myself clear?”

“No, you did. Right away, sir.” Opal, slightly shook by the power of the response, saluted the King and made her way swiftly to the royal stable to ready a steed for the mission.

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

Another day, another awful, exhausting, miserable day on this worthless backwater planet. HTK218-666 swiped the coolant dripping from his forehead, he was perspiring too much, because of the damn heat. The environment on this planet was unbearable. And worse than the heat itself was the lack of logical explanation for the heat. This system had NO SUN! How life was sustained 218 did not know. Nothing on this planet made sense. He hated it.

Another day he felt nothing but hatred. A part of him wished to give up, just give into the heat and let the earth consume him. Die in dignity and silence. It seemed like the best way to go. But there was another side of him, and it screamed at him, yelled and shrilled, that side forced him to stand up each morning and continue on. The loyal side of him, the pride, the thought of reuniting with his Brother.

He was a Horde trooper. He had to persevere.

And so he stood up and he persisted. The glass cover of his personal pod got jammed again. He only just awoke and already a problem troubled his head. He gave an exhausted sigh, rubbed his eyes and then the bridge of his nasal cavity. He forced the cover open with his foot, he knew his lower body had more muscle mass and strength as oppose to his upper half. He heard something going loose, a hiss of gases escaping the structure - must’ve been the cryogenic mechanism. The pod no longer supported long term recharge functions. Which was bad. It meant 218 had a time limit on how long he could remain on this planet. 218 dislodged the pod cables connected to his back and stumbled out. He fell to his knees a couple of times before gaining balance.

He reached out for his clothing, sitting on a bench near the corner. He decided, for some inexplicable reason he’d recharge without his uniform, bare chested. He liked it better without the fabric of the uniform catching on the inside of his ports, he hated having to pull strings of fabric out. The uniform’s short cape was torn off and used to drape over and around 218′s head and neck, to protect him from the heat. Even though, once again he wasn’t sure it’d help, since there was no SUN! It mattered little. He just had to push forward.

And so he did. Another day, another routine check up. He entered the control room, scaled the tall steps and approached the central panel. He stood stiff as the systems attempted to boot up again. He thought he might install a chair in that spot. He hated having to stand for so long.

The ship was an absolute mess. The lights in the room flickered, another thing on the list to fix was the power fluctuations in the power grid. But he couldn’t reach the power core chamber, because it was bored deep beneath the surface and blocked off by quite sizeable debris. Which he could access with the aid of maintenance robots. But all bots were destroyed or damaged during the fall. So he salvaged spare parts from the damaged units and substituted missing elements with objects that of the ship itself. He was a general, he held countless data streams related to construction and engineering, thanks to accessing his brothers’ minds multiple times every day of his life.

And so he managed to construct a couple of spherical quadruped bots as substitutes. He spent, what he assumed were nights on this planet, working on those. The bots were no great feat of engineering, they were uneven, tripped over their own feet, walked into walls and in some cases even combusted, leaving 218 to complete various repairs on the ship by himself.

He got very little recharge, he was sluggish and uncoordinated, the lack of self-maintenance probably did not help the black outs. The clone trooper noted that the faintings were getting worse and worse, more frequent, longer and more painful. But his tiredness was nothing compared to the feeling of guilt and disgust in his belly. He was dismantling the designs of his Big Brother. And then on top of that, he was altering them, he was dissecting perfection and then tainting it with his defective influence. He felt ashamed. But machine gave way to man and animal and the urge to survive came through.

The control panel veered to life with green lights. The display showed the schematic of the warship, but not much beyond it, the sensors were in bad shape, half melted from the entry to the planet. The ship picked nothing up from the surroundings. 218′s eyes had to do it on their own. He wasn’t sure if there were any threats near him, he spotted a few nomads pass by. They hadn’t started anything so the general felt safe for now. But he couldn’t be too sure, after all he was but a defect, he could not win in a physical confrontation. So put it apon himself to set up multiple traps around the wreck, it wasn’t much, but perhaps a warning would be enough for now. He also doubted that the welders on the bots were enough to act as a deterrent, so he hoped to install firearms into the bots as soon as possibly.

The half built, hull missing, spherical bots rose up and they too veered to life with a green light, well... life was a stretch. They weren’t alive. They weren’t supposed to be. Where they?

The hand full of bots began to march onward, continuing their duties. 218 sighed in relief, they worked, and none of them imploded, a sign of progress. He stretched his aching bones - he really needed a chair here. The general liked being above his troops, seeing from a vantage point as progress was being made. He liked it. Feeling larger than life. Untouchable. It made him feel safer. He heard a ping on his screen, he turned around to see the small red light blinking at sector seven. A malfunctioning bot. Perhaps he should retract that statement about progress. He sighed, collected himself mentally. 218 marched forward and to sector seven. The hallways were dark, only lit up by red emergency lights and an occasional spark of electricity from a loose wires. 218′s mind made a mental note of every problem as he pass it in the corridors, took it into a list of things to fix, if possible. He worried most of the damage might’ve been irreversible.

But he couldn’t focus on that, he wasn’t stuck here, he was going to get off of this insignificant planet. He was going to stand by his Big Brother’s side soon, once again. He was going to win in the end. The walk to sector seven wasn’t long, a few levels up and he was starring at a massive hole in the hull, half of the sector was incinerated, it sustained most damage, it was useless to 218. So it was being taken completely apart and reused for other purposes. He remembered sending one of his own bots to start the process. The clone trooper spotted the semi-spherical drone ontop of a metal beam above him.

218 scaled the near wall, he knew his frail body would shatter instantly apon impact if he fell, but he chose to purge the thought out of his mind. He’s bones ached and his flesh burned, this was why he had bots. He leaped from the wall to the jagged beam, his arms wrapped around it, but gravity took it’s toll. He screamed out in pain, his arms felt like they were about to rip out of their sockets. He had very little upper body strength left in his decaying arms, but he pulled himself up, grunting in pain. Walked forward on the beam, loosing balance a couple of times now and again. He made it to the bot.

It was shacking, a noise of it’s inner components could have been heard shifting and knocking into one another. 218 looked around the bot to check for any external damage. He did in fact find a pretty sizable indent in it’s hull, which had several cracks running out of it. The general recalled during one of his previous panic episodes a few days ago he snapped and unloaded at one of the bots he was constructing. His thoughts went to dark places many times, his mental state wasn’t getting much better. Worse actually, it was getting worse with every day. But his Big Brother was going to come for him, he knew it, he needed him.

218 dislodged the bot from the beam and it fell down to the floor beneath. It looked like it jammed as it was cutting the beam down. He gave out an order to collect unusable metals, he planned to smelt them down and then repurpose them with greater applicability through that process. He planned to use the power core to do it, but he had to get it first, hopefully the newly built bots were making good work of that debris. Good five or so stomps at the edge of the hot cut and the beam fell down. 218 sat down huffing in exhaustion, he hated being tired out by basic duties, he hated being weak, hated showing it. The broken man quickly realised he was going to have to drag the beam down to the power room himself, since the bot was currently walking on his side. He couldn’t help but rub the bridge of his nasal cavity. Morning, and he was fed up with life already.

218 elected to give himself a short break to gather his sanity, or not so short if he wished. After all, there was no one to hurry him. It felt nice, even thou a little guilt and selfish. He had too much freedom than he knew what to do with. The general looked up to see a cloud of dust kicking up in the distance. His eyes widened. Natives? Intruders!

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

He looked over the horizon of the desert, a barren wasteland no more apparently. The clone spotted a band of unknown individuals, the strange thing was they weren’t approaching the wreck of the warship, 218 studied their movements. They were scouting, they were studying HIM, checking out the surroundings of the ship. Rightfully so, the general wasn’t an idiot, if it wasn’t some sort of raiders it would have been rapid animals, he knew an invasion was a matter of time, so he prepared.

He set up traps, all around the perimeter. They would act as safety measures, at first, soon enough they adapted to serve a different purpose. It would trap sustenance. Disconnected from his Brother’s holy word, away from his life sustaining Purification Solution, which once burned through his veins and made him pure. Through pain, he became worthy. And so he was willing to endure it now, and remain strong as long as he needed to, to finally prove himself to Him. But to survive without his Brother’s life essence, he had to resort to... unwanted alternatives.

He started to feel light headed, his stomach giving off sharp pains, as if a blackhole was forming in his body. He didn’t know what it was, this desperation, to hunt. His traps never capture anything deserving of awe, a lizard scurrying here and there, a small scorpion, those were the crunchy ones, in rare instances even a bird, those had the most amount meat on the bones. Again, nothing huge, but it helped him survive.

He chose to swipe over the perimeter, see what his traps got him tonight. Nothing major he counted two rats, a lizard and it seemed a trap malfunctioned and impaled a rock... Although, he thought, it was quite peculiar. He found no rocks or stones around the vicinity, from a quick observation it seemed like it was thrown in... they were testing the booby traps. Perhaps 218 had to move up his schedule and start the weaponization process right away.

And so the scheming went into motion. He was a strategist, he fought against overwhelming odds countless of times, this was no different. He might have been alone, without his brothers’ voices, but that only meant he had more place for his own thoughts to fill the void - work helped. The traps he set up around were contraptions he put together from scraps of the firing silos. He practically had weapons set out already. Ignition pins which impaled explosive material and lit it, incineration plates which drew power from solar energy - not very useful on this world, and laser emitters, often used to cut through waste in the way of the warships. All deadly tools if used right.

His soon to be attackers were armed no doubt, and coming in large numbers - he spotted at least half a dozen at the same time. He had to level the playing field.

Clones had an agreement among each other, the defects did anyway, a saying they told each other: Whatever happened on Epsilon-19, stays on Epsilon-19. No one wished to relive those painful memories, well, they didn’t have a choice, everyone had night terrors. The initiative was a blood bath. But technically no one was around to hear him, he was alone with his own thoughts. So he wasn't really breaking the agreement. Clones were thrown to the dirt with scraps and were expected to adapt. There was a strategy they enacted, the defects on the frontlines would leave the middle section of a trench open and retreat to the left and right wings of the dug out. The enemy proceeded to storm the trench, thinking it had been left undefended unintentionally. Once the enemy forces trickled in, they were caged, and imprisoned, no space to move, they were easily picked off.

History repeats itself.

218 removed several traps creating a clear path straight from the outskirts to the opening of the ship wreck. Even though he got the notification of breaking through to the power room, he recalled the bots back to him, and carefully refitted them with deadly force. Fortunately, the bots did not look like futuristic miracles of science, but rather clumped pieces of scrap, or debris. 218 positioned them at the sides of the entrance, both inside and out. Having his enemy pinned, helplessly.

Well timed too. The preparations took him all day. He looked over the sky as it slowly pushed its light to the side and darkness took its place. 218 did prefer working under the cover of shadow. The field of sight was limited, 218 had an advantage with the contacts infused into his eyes. People at night were typically more jumpy and uncoordinated.

Everybody was afraid of the dark. It was a strangely universal phobia. The dark. 218 traversed the known universe, going from planet to planet and every world he set foot on, the native inhabitants always feared it. The unknown, that what they could not see, the dark held power over people. But there was one who did not fear it, one who made it his eternal mission to eradicate the darkness, to save the universe from itself, to purify it. His holy Brother. Hord-

218′s internal monologue was cut off by the sight of a distant red flame being ignited. They were trying to light their path. Many attempted to tread the path of righteousness without his Brother’s hand, without his light. A righteous path without his eyes watching over you is not a righteous one at all.

The general counted a dozen invaders. Not for long. They made their way slowly and wearingly to the hull breach. 218 watched the group come closer and closer, from a vantage point above them, observing through the hole in section seven. His talon hovered over a data-pad, ready to boot up the bots for the strike. Three. Two... One. The talon fell down. The bots among the debris and scraps whirred to life clearly startling the group. The one protecting the rear ran, clearly the coward of the group, they didn’t last long once the treaded off the path and landed on an incineration mine.

The rest retreated inward where met with two drones with incorporated laser canons. He knew he shouldn’t show emotion, it was forbidden in the Horde, but he couldn’t help but smile. He quite loved when everything went according to plan. The rest of the four attack drones outside caught the stragglers attempting to push through. 218 mentally pated himself on the back, a solid plan and it worked perf... ectly? Perhaps he should’ve reserved the self-appointed congratulations for later. The mission wasn’t done.

A bot failed- malfunctioned. Prime damnit! It was the same one. The semi-spherical bot practically exploded in flames. The blow damaged the near by units as well.

It looked like he was on his own.

He turned around and sprinted off into the dark, shadow filled corridors. He didn’t have much. He had his talons, his fangs, and his mind. He didn’t even manage to finish the handheld taser, he had an idea to refashion the lights from the hallways into some sort of staff, or baton. It wasn’t anything lethal, but it would’ve at least been something.

But he was a Horde trooper. A disciple of his holy Brother. He could not falter. He couldn’t fail. He was a Horde trooper the reflection of his Brother’s perfection. He needed to represent it.

218 rounded the corner ready to take a stand against the survivors, but the red pincer claw that collided with his face had other plans. The impact of the punch shook his entire body. And a single hit was enough to bring him to the floor. As quickly as he could he put his two hands underneath him and he pushed up, attempting to get back to the fight as fast as possible. But alas, before he even fully turned to face his attacker, another hit landed. It clearly ruptured some blood vessels as his nasal cavity began to bleed out.

Everything went blurry, he remained conscious, but 218 didn’t know how long he was going to last. A large red claw clamped around his neck, pain shot across his whole body, the pincer dug into his defective skin around his neck, and 218 let out an ungodly scream.

Yet again the animalist survival instinct kicked in and 218 flailed his hand at the opponents face, his talons scratching the attacker’s face, distracting them. 218 reached out with his hand to the wall, grabbing a pipe sticking out from the wall and with the remaining might in his arms he ripped the loose pipe out and swung it against his enemy’s head. Which freed him from his enemies grasp.

218 shot up onto his feet and sprinted off down the corridor. He didn’t even know where he was going, all those damn corridors looked the same! No, focus. Each had a different distinguishing factor, each was different in a surtain way. He memorised all the faults and damage in the corridors. 218 looked up and spotted the same sparking loose wires, he recognised them, he composed himself and knew where he was, which meant... the power core wasn’t far. He heard his pursuers behind him, shouting out his location. He fled deeper into the bowls of the ship into the power core chamber.

There at the centre of the room stood the power core, he noticed that instead of it’s usual bright green colour, it was now a dark red. If 218 remembered right, it was a critical failure alert. The best theory 218 could have come up with at the spot was that the power grid overloaded itself when he kicked the shields into overdrive as the ship fell through the atmosphere and hit the surface.

A problem for another day. He stopped infront of the core and waited. If he couldn’t win through his physicality, he’d win with his intellect. One of his attackers ran into the room, they didn’t stop, good, 218 needed the momentum. The attacker went in for the hit, but missed as 218 lowered himself grabbed hold of the individual and rolled them over his back into the power core. Perhaps not the most painless death, but the heat was quick. The body fell at 218′s feet.

He turned back to the entrance. There stood another invader. They did not charge, they stood in place. Stiff. Probably a reaction caused by the sight of both his comrade dead on the floor and the black silhouette of the monster over them that killed them.

The intimidation was only going to go so far, he needed to think fast, 218 surveyed the area around him. There. At his feet, lay a long spanning uninsulated cable. 218 was the one on the offensive now, he picked up the cable and ran at his opponent. He shoved the cable into the enemies chest, and the figure stumbled back, but did not fall. Electricity resistant? Noted.

The general soon realised his mistake, he let himself get too close. The opponent grabbed hold of the clone and slammed him into the nearby wall. Vision once again became blurry. 218 couldn’t stand. This was it. He failed. He felt being lifted up and thrown further down the corridor, scrapping the floor. Then a kick. And another and another. Defeat. 218 lay broken on the floor, his bones screaming and his muscles crying. He spitted out the green solution that ran through his veins as it began to leak out of his mouth. He then, barely, through the pain, felt being dragged by the cloth of his uniform.

He was thrown again. His eyes attempted to adjust, he was outside, at the scene of the ambush. The clone lay beneath another one of his enemies, this one holding a spear, looking down on him.

“This it?” The one with the spear asked, clearly in charge. This was the first time 218 truly saw what they looked like. He had watched his people from a distance, seeing them study his defences. But he didn’t notice anything disenable apart from brown cloaks wrapped around them and the four legged mounts they travelled on. But now he had a proper close up view. He did not know what creature they were, he didn’t recognise them as anything he had ever encountered among his many voyages across the stars. Everything on this planet was new and different.

The creature had broad features. The creature that stood over, infront of him had a pair of deep red claws, like the rest. A tail of some sort, with a sharp tip, perhaps it could contain a poison of some kind - he did not look forward to finding out. A platinum colour turf of hair. An exoskeleton shell all across his body, it had sharp spikes coming out of it, and many visible scratches and scraps. The commanding individual had clearly seen action. They were soldiers, like him.

No. Not like him. No one was like him. No one on this planet.

He was a Horde trooper! He was a Horde trooper! He was different. He had something no one else on this planet had! PURPOSE! 218 was on an eternal mission, even now - when stranded, separated and banished. He had to fulfil his Brother’s will. And then the Horde trooper realised something - his Brother’s absolutely perfect wisdom! No one had been touched on this world by the light of Prime! This- This was his purpose. His new meaning! His holy Big Brother’s actions and punishments made absolute sense. His wisdom was truly limitless and far-reaching. He was sent here for a reason! To spread the light of his Brother!

“Yes, sir. There were no other threats... any survivors?”

“No. We’re it.” He turned to face the bleeding clone, “Who are you?” He asked firmly, making it less of an ask and more of a command. But 218 remained silent. His loyalty and honour held his lips shut, these intruders would get nothing out of him. He would not betray his Brother. He would say nothing, tell them nothing - these creatures were going to extract nothing out of him. He had to show his Brother - who sees all - who watches always - that he was not weak, he was strong.

“I said: Who are you?!” 218 did not reply, and so the spear wielding scorpion man grasped him by the hair and dragged him up, and slammed him down into the ground. He had to be strong. “Who sent you?!” 218 said nothing. The claw crashed into 218′s face. “Did the other Kingdoms hire you?!” No answer. He was a Horde trooper! He was a Horde trooper!! Another hit collided with the pale white facial plates, cracking and bruising. “What is this structure! Is it First Ones?!! What do you know about the First Ones?! Where did it come from?! Where did you come from?!” And the clone remained silent, through the several following hits directly to the face, one after another, the world going more black each time. It was a miracle he still had all his teeth.

He had to be strong. He had to win. Even now as blackness surrounded him, the mission stood. Nothing matters but the mission. No exceptions. No faltering. He had to bring the Horde’s light to this world. And all must suffer to be pure.

Another day, full of failures and mistakes. But they were the mistakes of a general, a tactician. What the scorpion creature didn’t realise was that he let 218 get too close. And so the clone general spit into the eyes of his opponent and while blinded he grabbed the spear and ran it through the chest of his attacker. The creature fell. 218 pulled out the bloodied spear and swung it at the scorpion behind him. The reinforced wood shattered as it impacted the scorpion’s head.

This was it. His victorious moment. It was time for him to proclaim his mission, who he was. He was a Horde trooper! And he stood in this dark world as the only indication of his Brother’s light, he was all this world had.

“I AM A HORD-” His voice was cut as the tail of the scorpion slashed across 218′s neck, “-AK!!!” The clone stumbled past the soldier and fell to his knees, grasping for his throat. Feeling his consciousness fade. Definitely some sort of poison located in the tail tip. He looked back at the figure that managed to sting him, they had collapsed. He wanted to fight it - 218 mustered all the strength he could, all the willpower in his soul, but it wasn’t good enough. Never good enough, was he?

218 fell into unconsciousness. He failed. And as he closed his eyes he let the darkness take him.

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Another day.

Another day full of surprises and twists. The horse treaded the open path carefully, death trap contraptions on each side. The horse was ordered to stop by it’s rider and was dismounted. Force-Captain Opal pulled out a basin full of clean water and placed it under the animal to reward it for working under heat of the desert.

King Niro didn’t look back, but rather forward - at the dozen bodies laying dead on the ground. Over time Niro got used to seeing his own people dead, desensitised to the slow dying of the Hillian spirit. But these were soldiers, they knew the risk and the commitment asked of them, they died - but they died for a greater cause - for Scorpion Hill.

The king kneeled down, near one of the presumed lifeless corpses, his eyes narrowed. The chest - it was raising and falling slightly - breathing. “Force-Captain, medic! We have a survivor here! Maybe two, if we hurry!” The medic made it to the person first. Opal was behind him. Niro placed a claw on her shoulder stopping her from seeing the body, without a word the king communicated to her that she needed to brace for it.

As she approached the body, Niro saw even for a briefest of moments her eyes widen, letting a glint of light reflecting off of the moisture. But she said nothing, composed herself like the warrior she was. She let no emotion through.

There was another soldier who seemed to have made it, Niro checked his pulse. But Niro’s eyes fell on a different sight. There was a third body. The king slowly and cautiously approached the strange looking life-form. Strange didn’t begin to describe it, they weren’t any race he recognised, and Scorpion Hill housed almost all of them, from the poorest to the rarest. And yet the being before him was a mystery. He brandished his spear. He utilised the blade at the far end of the staff to turn over the body so it was facing upward.

Niro didn’t exactly know what he was expecting, but this wasn’t it. The being that resided in a mysterious structure that just appeared out of nowhere didn’t look like one would imagine. It didn’t look... frightening. Or he. Or sh- e? They? Niro couldn’t tell, but the creature looked humanoid, nothing threatening about it. Especially not with a resting sleeping baby face. Kind of cute. A killer too. Niro’s two favourite qualities.

He spoke quietly in a whisper to himself, “Alright, universe, I’ll take the bait.”

He placed his pincer at his mouth and gave a sharp whistle to the medic and the Force-Captain behind him, he pointed at the clone, “Them too!” He very well could find to regret that decision, bringing a unknown combatant into his own Kingdom, someone who can take out his soldiers. How was he going to explain this to the Council. Great, he had to now get started on the P.O.W paper work.

Perfect.

#hordak #king niro #scorpia's grandfather #horo #nidak #my writing #sweetened toffee

16 notes · View notes

ktheist · 5 years

Text

in the absence of the light

taehyung x reader. 2k words. angst.

it started with two strangers sharing a lighter.

It was drizzling when the door swung open.

A man probably in his 20′s was covering his head with his hand as though he wouldn’t end up sick with damp clothes and dry hair. But each their own. He’d brought out pack of cigarette and fully intended to light it when he placed it between his lips and patted his body to come up naught.

Otherwise, why would he have asked you.

“Say, you wouldn’t have a lighter, would you?”

It was nice of him to ask as you took a drag of your own cigarette.

He’d mumbled out a thanks when you’d offered to light it up for him - actually, the only exchange that could pass as an offer was the click of the lighter and the fire that you’d shielded away from the wind and droplets.

He was Taehyung by the way. You murmured with your own introduction and a wave your hand. The cigarette tucked between your index and middle finger.

You spoke of many things, like how you were doing two jobs to pay for rent and how he was riding on a full scholarship and was innocently amazed because he never worked a day in his life - his parents wanted him to concentrate on his studies. It was his first year and you were halfway through yours. Architecture was his major but he had always loved music - particularly jazz. He heard they played jazz a lot here so that’s why he came here. You told him you handpicked the songs and would invite the bands for every Friday.

Then his phone rang, it’d been brief but for someone who was already brighter than the sun, he just seemed to glow when he was talking to the person at the other end.

“It’s my girlfriend, she’s here and has a sneaky suspicion I’ve snuck out for a drag or two.”

“You never get past them.” You remarked.

Taehyung became a regular who would sit at the bar and asked you about your day. That was, if he wasn’t with his group of friends or girlfriend. You could be wrong, but you thought you saw him by himself more than you did with company.

There was a wistful smile playing on his lips as the music filled the otherwise solemn pub.

“What are you doing this Thanksgiving?” He asked one day.

“Here.” You absently said while polishing shot glasses.

“You’re not going home?” It was almost innocent how he sounded surprised at your answer. “Spend it with your family?”

“Nah, I got class the next day. Besides, they pay double on holidays.”

You didn’t remember agreeing to it per se, but somehow you ended up at Taehyung’s place after work on Thanksgiving. Hugging Sooyoung, you’d passed her the bottle of - decent - wine you picked up on the way here with your recently received paycheck. When Jungkook, one of Taehyung’s friend that you figured became your friend over the time he patronized the pub, went over with his booming loud voice and bear hug.

“Look who showed up!”

The invitation was strictly no-kids which meant a heck lot of booze and borderline illegal ‘fun’. You were slightly buzzed when you took a drag of your cigarette on the door step of Taehyung’s house.

“I’m thinking of proposing to Sooyoung,” his cheeks had been pink - you weren’t sure whether it was the effect of the alcohol or the thought of marrying his significant other, “I’m gonna go buy the ring tomorrow.”

“You got any idea in mind?” Your voice had been coarse but you blame it on the shouting and laughing when Jungkook was giving Namjoon a lap dance because of some bet he lost. “What her preferences are?”

He ran a hand through his long hair, smiling cheekily and shaking his head, “can you help a friend out?”

You breathed out a half-chuckle, “what would you do without me?”

“I know.” His chuckle was more genuine, freer as he accepted the bud you passed.

Taehyung had picked the simple diamond encrusted ring that you pointed out when you went ring-hunting that day after Thanksgiving.

He’d got on one knee in front of his family and friends - of course, you were invited as well - on Christmas eve. You advised him against his idea grand rose petals and candles in the park because for one, it was cold and two, you had gotten to know enough of Sooyoung to know she would hate the extra public attention.

In some ways, you two related to each other when it came to Taehyung and his overzealous escapades.

Sooyoung literally jumped into your arms and engulfed you in a bone-crushing hug when she saw you in front of the door, “thank you.”

“What do you mean?” You pretended you didn’t know.

“We’re both aware Taehyung couldn’t have picked out a cute ring that caters to my preference without a little guidance.” She nudged your arm and winked.

You couldn’t help but laugh.

She saw the pack of cigarette's you didn’t have the time to slip back into your pockets and tsk-ed in a maternal kind of way - though your own mother would bite your head off every time she hugged you and noticed the smell of smoke on you.

She knew Taehyung had already made an escape but she was letting him off the hook tonight.

“I’m quitting.” You had lamented in a puff. “I got a job - a real job at a big shot company.”

“Holy shit. Why didn’t you tell us at dinner?” Taehyung’s eyes had lit up so bright, you almost didn’t understand how someone could be so happy for another person for landing a job you’d seen coming anyway.

“I didn’t want to steal a spotlight.” You shrugged.

“Steal the spotlight? This is the best news I’ve ever heard, you’ve been working your ass off, you deserve the job - it’s like double good things happening in one night!”

Then the answer hit not much later; that you were his friend, dare you say one of his closest.

To your surprise, Taehyung showed up to your graduation. He drove a whooping one hour to get your university. He moved away when he got a lucrative job offer - the only mode of communication you had was Instagram. And you’d only posted a story of the hall where blue caps were mostly visible.

“Oh, you have my blessing.” Your mom cooed when she realized the man with a bouquet of sunflowers and roses were walking up to you.

“Mom, that’s Taehyung.” Your tone is warning - the last thing you need is your mother making it awkward. “He’s engaged.”

“Well, I don’t see a fiancee anywhere.”

Thankfully, your mom had kept her mouth shut, greeting and asking about his background like a mother who was mildly curious about her anti-social child’s friend.

To be fair, you had plenty of friends and went to a bunch of parties in between work and studying. You just didn’t bother to keep in touch with them after you left.

“Where’s Sooyoung? I thought you guys are together twenty-four-seven.”

Taehyung’s smile had turned sour but he quickly shook the question off, saying something about wedding preparations.

But Taehyung being Taehyung eventually spilled the predicament as he took another shot at the bar where you used to work.

“I don’t know if I’m making the right choice, you know? We’re both so young - I just started working and she’s asking why I don’t have as much time as I did for her.” It was like a broken tap, everything just poured out; his anxiousness, his hopes, his dreams, “what if it gets worse? What if work demanded more of my time and she’s left alone at the house? I don’t want to bind her like that.”

You weren’t much of a talker so you hugged him and muttered words you hoped would mean something to him.

“It’s going to work out, Tae.”

It was a minute later that you realized Kim Taehyung, the bright, shining sun out of your - his, then - circle of friends, was so terribly scared that he was breaking down in your arms.

“I’m so fucking scared, ___.”

You kept repeating those words over and over again until he stopped shaking. He’d looked up and you thought he had the prettiest brown eyes you’d seen. Someway, somehow, the lips you thought looked the softest was on yours. He tasted like cheap liquor and salmon from the dinner you had before he drove your parents to their hotel.

“I’m sorry, I don’t know what got into me-”

“Don’t mention it,” you cut him off with a wave, “I need a smoke. You got a lighter and cig? I ditched mine in my drawer when I heard my mom was coming.”

That night, you learned two things that shifted the stars in your world.

“Actually, I quit smoking six months ago.”

1) The sides you’d both revealed to each other was based off everything unhealthy in your lives - namely the packs of cigarette's you couldn’t recall how much off and 2) you realized you were losing the man you never had in the first place.

“Rise and shine, sleepy-head.”

There’s a smell of pancakes and something bitter. The two somehow came hand-in-hand. It took you five seconds to stretch body, another five to realize the other side of the bed was cold and empty, the last five was reserved for the realization that someone had waken you up.

A kiss landed on your temple as you rubbed your tired eyes, already sitting up. There’s a tray on your lap that smelled delicious - as were the other things Jungkook had conjured up in the kitchen.

“Look what came in the mail.” He waved his iPad in the air as he slipped into his side of the bed, arm touching yours.

You mumbled a ‘what?’ in between bites of the savory goodness before the answer is shoved in your face. It took you another five seconds to adjust to the light but when you trailed the cursive font, you knew this day was going to come.

Ladies and gentlemen,

You are invited to Kim Taehyung and Park Sooyoung’s wedding.

Please, RSVP at your earliest convenient.

Almost two years passed since that night. You still kept up with each other, commenting on the other’s stories but that was as far as staying in contact went.

You’d met Jungkook when you were transferred to the branch office of the company you’d been working at. As the manager of the project you were transferred to oversee, you couldn’t escape the brains of the company in collaboration with yours.

At first, it was dinner with the whole team. And then, since you were both of a leading position, you’d went to dinner as colleagues to discuss about the project. At one point, you took his invitation to his place in satire reminiscence of your younger self. Next thing you knew, the project was a success and so was your dating life - for once.

“Should we bring two presents?” You look at Jungkook who looked back at you before the both of you broke into laughter.

“Nah.”

For well-off directors, you two were pretty shady.

Sooyoung always had the warmest hugs.

“Careful, don’t break my other half.” Jungkook had commented when you were too nice to tell her you needed to breathe and possibly uncracked bones to function.

“I didn’t know you were together!” She squealed like a child who saw her favorite persons finally - as she said - together. “Tell me all about it.”

“It’s a long story.”

“I have all the time in the-” Before she could finish her sentence, one of her bridesmaids were on her side and in a blink of an eye she was whisked away to greet another seemingly important guests.

You’d danced with Namjoon for the first half before Jungkook swept in because he was ‘too bored waiting for my other half to ask me for a dance’.

“To be fair, I was dancing to one of Frozen’s soundtracks which you almost always told me to ‘go away, ___.’” You mimicked his squeaky version of Elsa’s rejection.

“Me? Never!” He had the audacity to sound flabbergasted.

You’d rolled your eyes and rested your head on his shoulder when a slow song came on. In the soft flow of the melody, your eyes met Taehyung’s who was dancing with his bride.

There’s a wistfulness in the way you both smiled at each other that brought you back to the back of the pub on that rainy day.

It’s brighter now.

check out my masterlist for other fics!

#taehyung #taehyung x reader #taehyung scenarios #bts scenarios #networkbangtan #taehyung x you #bts x reader #bts x you #taehyung fanfic #bts fanfic #jung #jungkook x reader #taehyung angst #bts angst #jungkook fanfic #taehyung x y/n #bts x y/n #bts imagines #taehyung imagines

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turdblossommm · 5 years

Text

Marry Me {2}

Summary: Bucky and the reader are hopelessly in love with their best friends who are getting married, where the pair first meet. Will there friendship turn into something more or will it crash and burn?

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

A/N: Okay listen people I’ve never written smut so freaking be nice about how terrible it is! Send me an ask if you want to be tagged!

Warnings: NSFW below the cut

part one / masterlist

“Wait” Bucky called after you and caught you by your arm before you could walk in. He had no idea why he went after you, but there was something about you and he couldn’t put his finger on it.

“What?” You looked him up and down as he couldn’t find his words

“Um I-“ He rubbed the back of his neck

“You want to get out of here?” Bucky raised his eyebrows

“Y-Yeah sure” You smiled and grabbed is hand and pulled him behind you and approached the bar

“Distract him” You winked and Bucky ordered and drink while you snuck behind the bartender and grabbed two bottles of champagne and fist pumped with them behind the bartender causing Bucky to laugh as you darted from behind the bar and stood beside Bucky

“There you are honey I’ve been looking all over for you” You smiled and Bucky and then the bartender as you passed off one of the bottles. Bucky grabbed your hand and led you out of the hall while laughing.

Steve caught Bucky’s eyes as he winked at him with a genuine smile on his face. He hasn’t seen one of those on his best friend since he found out about the wedding. Steve nudged Sam’s shoulder when he caught sight of you and the champagne bottles

“Yes Barnes” Sam laughed as Steve smiled. Outside Bucky waved down a cab while you recovered from you fit of laughter

“I never caught your name?” Bucky asked while sliding in the cab

“Y/N”

“James” You scrunched up your nose

“James? That’s so common” You paused “What’s your middle name?”

“Buchanan”

“Jesus what were you born in the 20’s?” She laughed

“When I was a kid my friends called me Bucky” He shrugged and you nodded

“I like it” That was forgien to Bucky, Natasha always called him James

“Where to?” The cab driver barked and Bucky opened his mouth and you rambled off your address in Hell’s Kitchen before he could

“My place okay?” He nodded

“So where are you from?” He asked

“Oregon”

“West coast?” You nodded

“It’s the best coast” Bucky waved you off “So you from here then?” You asked and he nodded

“Born and raised in Brooklyn” The cab stopped outside the building and Bucky paid before you could get your wallet out. He helped you out of the cab

“We could’ve split it” Bucky waved you off once more as you approached your door man

“Evening miss” He opened the door

“Have a goodnight Charles” You led Bucky in the elevator by grabbing his arm and let your fingers linger when the doors closed. Bucky gripped the bottle as goosebumps rose on his arms

You unlocked the apartment door and motioned for Bucky to enter. The first thing he noticed was all the brown boxes that littered the modern apartment. You hung you trench coat up and walked into the kitchen and grabbed two coffee cups

“Sorry it’s a mess, I’m just moving in” You popped the champagne “Which means were going to have to drink this out of coffee cups because I have no idea where my flutes are” You handed him the mug and sat on the floor and he followed you actions

“How long have you know Natasha?” You asked as you drank to bubbly liquid

“Since kindergarten” You raised your eyebrows

“You’re in deeper than me?”

“What’s that mean?” Bucky drank deeply and you let out a mix of a scoff and a laugh

“C’mon Bucky, you may have your friends fooled but not me”

“You don’t even know me?”

“But I know your behavior” You smiled

“Okay Dr. Reid lay it on me” Bucky poured more of the drink in your cup

“You stood in the back of your best friend’s wedding while nursing I assume whisky or bourbon out of a flask. You watched the floor as they said I do and kissed and you left during the first dance as a couple. Either you didn’t want to be there at all, or your hopelessly in love with her” Bucky stared at you with shock

“H-how c-can you know all that?”

“Because I did the same thing Bucky” You chugged the remaining champagne and refiled your cup

“How long have you know Clint?” Bucky asked

“High School, I was working with my dad in Alaska as a deck hand for charter fishing. Him and his dad came out and were on our boat. We just clicked, stayed in touch through high school and we went to college together. He went NYU and I went to Columbia.” You drank from you cup. “I used to live with him until about a week ago when Natasha moved in”

“Sucks doesn’t it?” Bucky popped the second bottle

“Makes you wonder doesn’t it?” You thought aloud as Bucky filled your mug

“What?” His blues eye met yours

“Have they always though of us a friends or did it ever cross their mind we could be more?” Bucky let that sink in

“Always, I always think about it” He chugged the rest “Am I really not an option, Am I just meant to be the shoulder to cry on?” You nodded and poured the remaining liquid between you two and raised you cup

“To wallowing in self pity” He clinked his glass against yours

“At least wee not by ourselves” You finished the champagne and fiddled with the cup, Bucky watched you run your fingers over the cup

“Some times I wish I never met her” Bucky rubbed is face

“Don’t say that” You muttered “Some of your best memories are probably with her, you felt your best with her” You felt tears fill your eyes, blurring your vision of the cup. You push the tears back, not wanting to cry in front of a stranger.

“You’re right” He nodded

“I have that annoying habit” You sat up on your knees as an idea came to you “Do you want to forget them for a bit?” Bucky looked into your eyes, he could see what you were thinking. Bucky wasn’t one for messing around with strangers but now seemed as good as ever.

Bucky pushed the cups and champagne bottles out of the way and reached for your face. You met him half way and pressed your mouth to his. You pulled on his hair causing him to moan and you pushed your tongue in his mouth.

He fought you for dominance while you unbuttoned his dress shirt. You slowly slid it off his shoulders as he reached for the zipper on your dress. His fingers ran up your spine sending shivers through your entire body.

He pulled you up and watched the dress pool at your feet before picking you up and setting you on the counter. You found his mouth again as you fumbled with his belt and unbuttoning them. Once the hit the floor he picked you up once more and your wrapped you legs around his waist.

“Please tell me you bed is unpacked” He asked breathless and you laughed

“Second door on the right” He dropped you on the bed and peppered you body with kisses as he slowly made his way to you mouth. You moaned as his hand brushed your core. ‘Man, Natasha is really missing out’ you thought and played with the waist band of his underwear as he unclasped you bra and threw is on the floor

He kneeded your breast as you grabbed his cock, causing him to groan. In a swift movement he had your panties off and he pulled off his boxer, freeing his large erection. He trailed down your body with wet kissed before licking your clit, sending waves of pleasure through your body

“Bucky” You moaned and grabbed his hair

“Shit” He breathed “Do you have a condom?” You sat up on your elbows

“Chivalry really is dead?” You reached into the bedside table and threw a condom at him

“This wasn’t something I was planning on happening” He defended as he tore the packet open with his teeth

“Always be prepared” He rolled the condom on and hovered around your entrance

“I’ll keep that in mind” He thrusted in your core with no hesitation, the only thing to be heard was the sound of contact and moans filling the room. You could feel the orgasm building in your stomach as his thrust got sloppier.

“Fuck Y/N, I’m close” He groaned

“Me too” You felt the familiar feeling rising until the pleasure washed over you. Bucky came the moment you started clenching around him. You moaned as he buried himself you and rode out his high. He pulled out and walked into the connected bathroom and you gladly watched.

You rolled over and pulled the blankets over you. Bucky walked out of the bathroom to see soft snores falling out of your mouth. He smiled and climbed into the other side of the bed and pulled you in close to him and close his eyes.

TAGLIST: @hailqueenconquer

#Bucky Barnes #bucky barnes au #sad bucky #bucky imagine #BUCKY AU #bucky x reader #winter solider fanfiction #winter solider x reader #winter solider imagine #Winter Solider #clint barton #natasha romanoff #Steve Rogers #sam wilson #avengers au #Avengers #marvel

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ssa-montgomery · 5 years

Text

It All Started With A Coffee Chapter 2

Word Count for this chapter: 2825

Story Summary: Magnus Bane decides that running a quiet coffee shop is a better idea than the loud nightclub Pandemonium, it just happens that it has the best coffee in Manhatten and Alec needs an escape when his parents come to town. Magnus is happy to let the young Shadowhunter hang out at his coffee shop for most the day and even starts to enjoy his company. When things go even more downhill than usual with his family and Alec opens up to the Warlock they start to grow closer, and it’s totally just a coincidence if they run into each other at the Institute right? More importantly, his parents won’t notice, will they?

Characters in this chapter: Magnus x Alec, Izzy x Simon, Clary x Jace, Maryse Lightwood x Robert Lightwood, Maia Roberts (Mentioned), Max Lightwood (Mentioned)

Warnings: Fluff, Arranged marriage, Angst, Swearing, Clave being Homophobic, Fighting, First Love, Injury, Blood, Maybe future smut (? not decided yet)

A/N: Chapter two is finally here! I hope you enjoy this. It’s a little longer this time around and I hope it turned out okay :) Thank you for all the support on the first chapter! For those of you who asked, yes this is available on AO3 you can find it here.

Feedback is what motivates me to work so please let me know what you think! Reblogs are also greatly appreciated.

Masterlist

Series Masterlist

Taglist is open!

"So you're parents live in Idris permanently?" Clary asked. They were standing around a table in the middle of the Ops Center that was starting to fill with more and more Shadowhunters, the chatter around them growing louder. The Institute was preparing for the arrival of the Lightwoods and the Shadowhunters were now setting the finishing touches. Alec could sense the tense energy in the room as it got closer to the time of arrival. Alec himself had been on edge since the day before. The thought of his parent's visit constantly playing in the back of his mind. It had been a few months since he had last seen them and he hadn't made an effort to keep in contact apart from a few fire messages to his mother.

"Yeah." Jace nodded. "They live in Alicante with our little brother Max. Alicante is the main city in Idris. Well, actually it's the only city. Almost all Shadowhunters grow up there and eventually end up moving to an Institute."

"Wait, where is Idris?" Simon had now joined the group at the table taking a place next to Isabelle, who snuck a quick look at him before turning her attention back to Alec.

"It's in Central Europe actually. Between Germany, France and Switzerland. The wards keep out Mundanes, if a Mundane were to stumble across it they'd just be teleported from one border to the other." Alec explained pulling up a map on the digital surface of the table in front of them. In the centre of Europe just like Alec had said there was a country outlined with a golden border.

Before anyone could say anything else the sound of the heavy front door being pushed open echoed around the room. Alec turned around to see Robert and Maryse walking into the entryway of the Institute. Maryse was wearing a long well fitted blue dress, her black hair - it was the same shade all the Lightwood children had which always made Jace stand out among the group with his golden hair - pulled back into a ponytail. It was how Alec was used to seeing his mother but there was something different about her today. Maryse had always had a certain confident air about her but now it was gone. Dark circles stood out under her eyes, her shoulders were slouched forward and her fingers were twisting the silver ring on her finger, the Lightwood family ring. Alec could recognize the pattern of flames, the family emblem, on the band and the letter L carved carefully into the top.

"My children." She beamed letting her hands fall to her side and straightening her shoulders, within seconds any sign of her previous nervousness melted away.

Maryse advanced quickly across the room weaving her way through the Shadowhunters that had surrounded her husband at the door and were now filling him in on the status of the Institute. Alec was the first to step away from the table to greet his mother and allow her to pull him down into a tight hug. She gave him a squeeze before pulling away to hug Izzy and Jace.

"Hi, mom." Izzy smiled when Maryse let her go. Alec watched how Izzy tucked her hair behind her ears, one of her habits when she was nervous.

"Maryse." Jace nodded a grin spreading across his face. Looking over his shoulder he held an open hand out to Clary who happily laced her fingers with his and moved forward to stand next to him. "I'd like you to meet-"

"Clary Fairchild. I could have sworn Jocelyn was standing in my institute. You look just like your mother." Maryse finished for him. Alec knew his mother had known Jocelyn from her time in the circle but he could never tell if they had been close. Maryse rarely talked about that time and when she did her expression was guarded and gave nothing away.

Robert had now managed to detach himself from the group of Shadowhunters at the door to come to greet his family. Alec couldn't help but notice the distance between his parents, Robert moved to stand next to Isabelle and Maryse was now standing on the other side of the table talking with Clary. They had barely looked at each other since they arrived. Isabelle had worshipped their father ever since they were children but Alec, not so much. Alec never had a perfect relationship with Robert and it had only gotten worse as he got older. He had accepted long ago that he could never live up to what his father wanted from him.

"Oh!" Izzy whirled around suddenly remembering that Simon was at the table. He was standing behind Clary as she talked to Maryse, his eyes focused on his shoes like they were the most interesting thing he had ever seen. "Mom, Dad this is Simon Lewis. He's Clary's best friend."

Maryse smiled warmly at him and extended her hand to him. Simon shook her hand hating how formal it felt. He was used to Clary's mom who had woken up to Simon sitting in her kitchen so many times that she no longer questioned it. Maryse, on the other hand, was watching him with questioning eyes.

"The Daylighter. I had heard Clary was fond of you." Robert's voice was tight as he spoke, his arms crossed firmly in front of his chest.

"Robert." Maryse shot her husband a cold, warning look.

"I better get going, I have a meeting with the Shadowhunters who were sent over from Idris last week." Robert turned away from the group without another word and disappeared down the long corridor on the opposite side of the room.

"And I would love to talk more with my children, why don't we go to Alec's office?" Maryse asked. "Clary, Simon you are both welcome to join if you like."

"Thank you Mrs Lightwood but Simon and I promised Luke we'd meet him at the Jade Wolf to help out with some stuff. It was great to finally meet you." Clary said.

"It was lovely to meet you both. Give my regards to Lucian Greymark."

Once Simon and Clary had said their goodbyes the Lightwoods made their way to a large room at the end of the nearest corridor. It had become Alec's office now that he was Head of the Institute. Alec was given the position when Maryse decided to move back to Idris so Max could attend the Shadowhunter Academy there. According to the Clave, Maryse was still the official Head of the Institute but the other Shadowhunters had started to respect Alec as their leader in her absence.

"Where is Max?" Izzy asked settling on the couch opposite the wooden desk that had the detailed image that Shadowhunters were so familiar with, the Angel Raziel rising from Lake Lyn with the Mortal Instruments in hand, delicately carved into the front of it.

"Unfortunately your brother won't be joining us for a little while. He decided to stay in the Academy a little longer as the trainer from the Dublin Institute arrived and offered to coach him." Maryse explained. "I must say it's wonderful to be home and see you all."

"It's great to see you too." Jace agreed.

"I would love to spend some time with you all later to catch up, I was hoping we could maybe get some food somewhere in town."

"We could go to the Hunters Moon!" Izzy suggested. "I can call Maia and get her to reserve a table for us."

"Yeah sounds great." Alec nodded.

"Jace please invite Clary if you would like, I'd love to talk to her more. Oh and Isabelle, you seem rather fond of that Lewis boy, you could ask him along as well."

A slight blush covered Izzy's cheeks at the mention of Simon but she shook it away quickly. "Of course, I'll ring Maia now and get us that table."

"Right well, I should probably join your father in that meeting. I shall see you all for dinner." With that Maryse excused herself from the room and each of the Lightwood children left after her heading off in their own directions to get ready.

"Hey, Alec!"

Alec stopped just outside his room and turned away to see Izzy following him down the hall. "What are you doing until dinner?"

"I'm running to change now and then I'm heading out for a while. I'll meet you back here to go to the Hunters Moon later."

"Where are you going?" Izzy questioned, her eyes narrowing, it wasn't like her brother to go out unless one of them was dragging him to something.

"Out." Alec shrugged.

~~~

Alec pushed open the door to the coffee shop and ducked in out of the cold air outside. The shop was quiet again today, the only other customers were a Mundane woman who was lost in the writing on the laptop in front of her, quickly tapping at the keyboard and a Seelie. The Seelie had dark green hair that at first glance seemed to have small white flowers weaved through it but Alec quickly realized the flowers were growing out of the strands of her hair. Magnus, who had previously been leaning against the Seelie's table glanced over his shoulder when he heard the door swing open. Alec's trained senses caught the way Magnus's lips curved into a grin for a split second before he spun away from the table and walked around the counter.

"What can I get you, pretty boy?" Magnus asked resting his elbows on the worktop.

"Um, just a black coffee thanks." Alec could feel his cheeks burning at the nickname as he awkwardly shoved his hands into his jean pockets.

"Take a seat," Magnus suggested waving a hand towards the table by the window. "I'll drop it over to you."

Alec walked over to the table Magnus gestured at and sat down. Alec watched the Mundanes hurrying by the window the outside, completely unaware of him. He was used to slipping through the crowds unnoticed with Izzy but that was usually thanks to the glamours that hid them. He wasn't entirely sure why he hadn't told Izzy where he was going when he left and he almost felt like he had lied to her. He always told his sister everything but when she had asked where he was going he had the sudden urge to hid it. Maybe it was because he didn't know why he was here.

A gentle touch on his arm pulled Alec from his thoughts. He turned his head to see that Magnus had placed his coffee in the middle of the table and was smiling down at him. Magnus slid into the seat across from Alec and pushed the mug closer to Alec.

"Is your sister not joining you today?" Magnus asked.

"Uh no." Alec shook his head. He reached over and grabbed a packet of sugar, his eyes fixed on Magnus watching him carefully. He knew practically nothing about the Warlock but yet here was, sitting across from him asking him about his family. "How did you know she was my sister?"

"I inquired yesterday," Magnus said. "I'll admit, I didn't expect to see you back in here, Shadowhunters don't tend to visit Downworlder shops that often."

"It's quiet here." Alec shrugged taking a sip of the warm liquid. "And I go to the Hunters Moon a lot so I don't mind Downworlder places."

"The Institute chaotic at the moment? I hear Maryse Lightwood is in town, she was a handful when she was a young Shadowhunter. I imagine she still is at times." Magnus laughed.

"You knew the Lightwoods?" Alec asked. He didn't know many people who had known his parents when they were his age and any time he tried to ask what they were like back then he was quickly shut down. Alec had always been curious about what other people thought of his family, especially Downworlders. From the way Magnus was talking about Maryse it seemed he didn't know who Alec was, or more importantly who his family was. He intended to use that to his advantage.

"Yes." Magnus nodded." I've known the Lightwoods for generations."

"Oh, do you know much about the Lightwood children?" Alec's tone was calm when he spoke. He had perfected keeping his voice and expressions still when he was lying or trying to keep an advantage in a situation over the years.

"Well, I think everyone in the Shadow world has heard about the adopted one. What's his name? The attractive blonde one." Magnus dismissively waved his hand. Of course, Magnus thinks Jace is attractive Alec thought. Why did it matter what Magnus thought of Jace anyway? "Whatever his name is I've heard he's a lot to handle. Always trying to save the world from whatever great evil is looming over it. Sounds like trouble if you ask me. The girl sounds a lot like her mother when she was her age. Headstrong and passionate. She's a bit wild but I'm sure she'll settle down with time. And the eldest."

Magnus paused for a moment his long fingers tapping on the table. His nails had been painted black, the polish was scattered with small pieces of silver glitter. Alec took another drink from his mug while he waited for Magnus to continue talking. He couldn't help the nervous feeling at the bottom of his stomach. He hadn't paused for Izzy or Jace, did people not talk about him as much?

"Someone told me that the eldest has a thing for older Warlocks that run coffee shops but that's probably just a rumour."

Alec burst out into a coughing fit, the coffee he had been drinking burning his throat as he tried to catch his breath. His face was burning even more than the inside of his throat, a dark red colour now covered his features. Magnus let out a laugh, head tipped back, his eyes crinkling at the corners. Alec turned his head away hoping Magnus hadn't already noticed his blush. The Seelie girl Magnus had been talking to before was now glaring at Alec, she shoved her chair back and made her way out of the shop. Alec guessed she had been looking for Magnus's number but had quickly realized he wasn't interested in her.

"Honestly Alexander, did you really think I wouldn't know who you are? I'm the High Warlock, it's part of my job to know the Shadowhunters that run the Institute in my area. I'll admit I didn't recognize you at first yesterday it was only after you left I realized who you were."

"You know my name and you don't know Jace's?"

"Ah, Jace! I knew it was something like that. You know, though he might think it, the world doesn't revolve around Jace. People are allowed to notice you too."

"Guess it just doesn't happen a lot," Alec said keeping his eyes on the table as he slowly turned his cup around in circles.

"It should."

Alec finally looked up again and met Magnus's eyes. Alec wondered what Mundanes saw when they looked at him. What colour did they think his eyes were? No matter what they saw it wouldn't compare to their natural gold that seemed to catch the light perfectly where Magnus was sitting. Alec felt almost uncomfortable under his gaze, he wasn't sure how to respond. What he said was true. He was rarely noticed especially when he was with either Jace or Izzy, being Jace's parabatai Alec had grown used to it. He had always been the friend that was close by in the shadows but was never in the spotlight. Alec was saved from responding when his phone began to vibrate in his pocket. He pulled his eye's away from Magnus and took it out to check the caller ID.

"It's Izzy."

"I'll let you get that then," Magnus said standing up and moving towards the front of the room.

"Iz. Everything alright?" Alec asked finally answering the phone.

"Yeah, I'm just calling to let you know we got a reservation. We're leaving at five." She explained.

Alec glanced up at the golden clock on the wall behind the counter. It was half four already. "Alright. I'll come back now."

Alec could feel Magnus watching him from he had settled, he was standing with his back against the wall and his arms loosely folded over his chest. Alec hung up the phone was slipped it back into his jean pocket. He picked up his mug and finished off his coffee.

"Hey Magnus, I have to go. Thank you for the coffee." Alec was now standing in front of Magnus. He pulled some money out of his pocket and held it out to him. "I'll uh, I'll see you around."

"I'll see you later Alexander." Magnus grinned taking the money out of his hand.

Taglist: @thewaywardimpala

#shadowhunters #shadowhunters fic #shadowhunters fanfiction #shadowhunters fandom #malec #malec fandom #malec fluff #malec fanfic #coffee shop au #shadowhunters coffee shop au #malec au #shadowhunters au

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writersrealmbts · 6 years

Text

Alternate Reality Nightmare: Part 1

Description: You end up in an alternate reality with your bias when you got lost trying to get out, and things definitely aren’t the same here as they are where you’re from. Namjoon x Reader.

Warnings: Violence, other issues, (You should always be careful when reading things)

Posted: 10/27/2018

Tags: Namjoon, Reader X Namjoon, AlternateReality!AU

Angst: 3,522 words

A/N: This one has been in the works for a while. The next part won’t be as together, with some time skips for the sake of my sanity, but hopefully the ending will be satisfying for you.

You raced through the event center, trying to get out. To go back to your hotel to calm yourself down and get the sleep you needed. You shouldn’t have come here. It was too much with the jet-lag. You fell forward, but someone caught you. You looked up and just about died. It was him. Then you saw past him in your panic and you ended up ignoring him when he asked if you were okay with a surprised little smile. You pointed behind him. He turned to look and flinched. “Oh shit.” The two of you were no longer in the event center with thousands of other screaming fans and his band mates. His grip on your arms tightened. “Where are we?” You looked around, panic welling up. “I…I think we’re in the same spot, but…” “But there’s no building.” He finished the statement, moving his grip from your arms to one hand of your hands. “All of the signs are still in Korean.” You shuddered, suddenly glad he spoke English. You knew a little bit of Korean, what you had studied so that you could function when you came over. “Alright, let’s walk down the road and see what happens,” he suggested, sounding calm and rationale but looking almost as freaked out as you were. “Um, is it okay if I don’t let go?” You asked, your voice shaking. You thought you might panic if you lost the contact with his hand, which was opposite of what you had been thinking earlier. You had thought you might panic if you got this close to any of the boys. Now you were clinging to his hand because it was the only thing you recognized. He looked down at you and then gave your hand an extra squeeze. “Yeah, stay close…?” “Y/n.” “Namjoon. Anyway, if everything is different, then…” “For sanity,” you suggested. He gave a nervous smile. “For sanity.” The two of you slowly made your way down the street, noting the glares and whispers that followed. His grip tightened more and more. Someone stopped you, speaking in angry Korean. You glanced between Namjoon and this older woman. Finally, Namjoon dodged around the woman, pulling you with him. “Hurry.” You picked up your pace to match his rushed one. “What did she say?” “She called you my slave.” “Excuse me?!” He gave you a scared and worried look. “She told me that I shouldn’t be so familiar with my slave and that I shouldn’t let you on main roads where you could be seen. Something is off and I can’t place it. Please just come with me.” You caught up with him, sticking close to his side. Slave. The political implications of that were pretty clear. Your parents came to your mind and the panic kept rising. He suddenly pulled you into an alley, navigating through it until the two of you came out on a smaller, dirt street that was virtually abandoned. “Toto, I don’t think we’re in Kansas anymore,” you murmured, letting go of his hand and dropping against a wall. He stood in the middle of the street, looking up and down it. “I’m sorry.” “For what? It’s not like you were the one that dropped us into an alternate reality.” You were regulating your breathing to try and keep from crying or panicking. “You came to see us, though. If you hadn’t you might be safe. You aren’t safe now.” “But I’m not alone. This would be a lot worse if I was alone. Though, I’m sorry that it was you. Everyone will be worried about you. The boys, your family, the company, and your fans.” “People will be worried about you too.” “Just my mom and dad. A couple friends. It’s almost inconsequential compared to—“ “It’s not. You are just as important as I am.” He knelt in front of you. “We’ll find a way back to our families.” You stared into his eyes, hoping he was right but knowing it was possible that he was wrong. “What were you doing in that hallway anyway?” He asked, smiling a little. “Chickening out of actually meeting any of you,” you answered, inhaling sharply, and letting out a shaky breath. He looked surprised. “You were leaving?” “I have panic attacks sometimes and I felt a little…I didn’t want to have a panic attack there. It would have been too embarrassing. I didn’t want to be that girl. The one who passes out from meeting human beings who just happen to make amazing music. I promised myself I would never be like that.” “You have panic attacks?” He frowned. You nodded. “I don’t have them as often since I switched jobs, and since I started taking medicine. Got regular sleep, didn’t have caffeine.” “Jet lag?” You nodded. He nodded in return, then stood, holding his hand out to you. “Come on. We’re in this together.” “Namjoon?” A deep voice asked off to one side. One that both of you recognized. Taehyung was staring at Namjoon, but he didn’t look like the Taehyung you both knew. This Taehyung had his hair blue, royal blue, but he was also wearing some sort of fancy uniform, and had strange designs painted on his face. “Taehyung-ssi?” Namjoon stood up slowly, glancing nervously at you. Taehyung swallowed hard. “But…you were…by her…” Taehyung suddenly had his gaze fixed on you, and he was glaring. “Don’t tell me you work for them now!” “I don’t work for anyone Taehyung. I don’t know what’s going on. Please, we need to get her off the street. Please.” Taehyung looked angry and confused. “Why should I help her? Why would you help her? She’s the one that took you from us!” “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Namjoon held up both of his hands. “It’s hard to explain. Please, if you ever trusted me, help me get her somewhere safe. She’s scared. I’m scared.” You could hear people coming and whatever they were saying sent Namjoon off. “Taehyung, please!” Namjoon grabbed his friends arm. Taehyung’s gaze was sad as he nodded. “Alright, Hyung. Follow me.” Namjoon quickly turned to you. You got up and took his hand and both of you hurried after Taehyung. Every time someone saw you they were outraged and were yelling at Namjoon and Taehyung. The second crowd was when Taehyung took matters into his own hands. He grabbed your arm and pulled you roughly to his side. He said something in Korean as he dragged you through the crowds and Namjoon followed. He definitely wasn’t just doing it for show, his grip on your arm painful. And he didn’t let go until he basically threw you through the gate of a large residence. You fell down, scraping your hands and knees, and officially unable to breathe. You heard the gate close, then gentle hands and angry Korean greeted you. Taehyung responded in a frustrated tone. Namjoon brushed his fingers over your arm where Taehyung had handled you. He spoke harshly. You looked up at Taehyung as you managed to calm down. “Thank you.” Both of them shut up, mouths open in shock. You looked at Namjoon. “They thought I was a slave. The best explanation is for me to be in trouble. It made my reaction genuine.” “You’re having a panic attack,” Namjoon argued, pulling you to your feet. Taehyung said something that seemed to calm Namjoon down. You looked back up at Taehyung. “Hang on, you spoke English fluently earlier.” He nodded. Namjoon looked at his little brother and shook his head. “When did you learn English?” “We all learned it after you…after she took you. We were trying to find you. Know your enemies, right?” He stared at the ground, looking like he didn’t know whether to glare or be sad. “We should get inside. The other guys should know.” Namjoon looked at you, then at Taehyung. “You’ll help me keep her safe?” “Yes, Hyung. But only until you explain what’s going on. Then I make no promises.” “That’s enough,” Namjoon said, relief evident in his voice. Taehyung led the way inside. “Hyungs! Jimin-ssi! Jungkook-ssi! Meeting in the Living room!” Namjoon kept hold of your hand, whispering calming words to try and help you come back from the panic. It really wasn’t too bad of an attack as far as your attacks went, but… Taehyung gestured for you to take a seat on the couch, then went into the kitchen, yelling out in Korean. He came back with a cup of water, putting it in your shaking free hand and holding it steady even though he obviously disliked you. You took a drink, calming surprisingly fast. “Taehyung,” Jin said. He was staring at you and Namjoon looking like he had seen a ghost. He had different markings from Taehyung, but like Taehyung was still extremely handsome with his silver hair. His clothes were a little more normal. Taehyung went over and guided him to a seat, speaking softly in Korean. Jin slowly nodded. Jungkook, Jimin, and J-Hope came in next but their reactions weren’t as subdued as Jin’s. Jungkook‘s eyes widened and Namjoon’s name slipped between his lips, but then he saw you. Jimin had seen you first, then Namjoon. J-Hope was probably the scariest difference, looking like some sort of demon with his markings and hair, and his fingers pressing into your neck and cutting off oxygen. “Hoseok!” Namjoon tried to push J-Hope away, finally succeeding when Taehyung helped him. J-Hope spat out words that were filled with venom despite your inability to understand. You gasped for breath, pressing back into the cushions of the couch as they argued loudly and J-Hope glared at you. “Hey!” Someone finally yelled over everyone. Silence fell as everyone fell still and everyone looked at Jin. Suga had snuck in at some point and was standing beside him looking shocked. Jin’s glare was intense. He barked out an order in a tone that had all of the boys except Namjoon scrambling to sit at attention. Namjoon looked at them in confusion, then slowly moved back to your side and sat. “What’s going on?” You whispered, your voice pitched ultra high from the panic that was overwhelming you. He looked at you, then quickly wrapped his arms around you. “I don’t know. Are you okay?” You shook your head. He helped you go through some different things to calm down, ignoring the other boys. It took a while, and the whole time they were perfectly silent. Waiting. Finally, you were able to breathe easily and didn’t feel like you were going to die. You and Namjoon faced his group members and you could see them all clearly. Suga had the least markings, most of his were on his neck and hands. He was wearing the lightest colored clothing, a pale blue that went well with his brown hair. Jimin looked a little creepy, his gaze intense and fixed on you, the dark markings around his eyes emphasizing his glare. It gave you flashbacks to the beginning of their music career when they always had dark eyeliner on, but this was also very different. There was something ominous about the markings. This pink-haired Jimin looked nothing like the soft Mochi you remembered from the Spring Day era. Jungkook somehow looked even more like a bunny with his markings and his dark purple hair. His eyes looked huge as he looked nervously back and forth between Namjoon, Jin, and J-Hope. He looked like he wanted to say something but didn’t dare. J-hopes markings almost completely covered his face, and his hair looked like it had been dyed with blood. He wore blacks and dark greys, and looked at you so casually murderous that you had a feeling he didn’t go by J-Hope here. “Namjoon…explain,” Jin finally ordered in that same voice that brooked no argument. Namjoon squeezes your hand, checking one last time that you were okay before facing the boys. “Is it okay if I speak in English?” Jin nodded sharply. Namjoon nodded, seeming nervous. He took a breath but his voice didn’t come out. “Hyung, what happened to your marks?” Jungkook asked in a soft voice, glancing nervously at Jin after. Jin made a slight gesture that seemed to be forgiving him and prompting Namjoon to answer. There was something about Jin that was so…authoritative. “I’ve never had…marks,” Namjoon answered slowly. “I don’t know what is going on. I just know that she’s considered a slave or something and there’s some sort of war…and apparently, your Namjoon was taken or killed.” “Do you think this is a joke?” J-Hope hissed, tensing as if he was getting ready to pounce. “Hoseok,” Jin growled, shooting a glare in that direction. J-Hope looked away with an apology in Korean. “Explain,” Jin demanded, fixing his gaze on both of you. Namjoon hesitated. “Where we’re from, the seven of you make up a very popular music group, Bangtan Sonyeondan, or BTS. I’m a fan. I was at an event that you were throwing. I was leaving and I ran into Namjoon. When we looked up again, we weren’t there anymore. We were here. Where I’m a slave, or some sort of soldier, and let me tell you right now, I’m really not.” Jin’s eyes flashed silver as his gaze flicked between you and Namjoon. The others seemed to be waiting for him. “They’re telling the truth.” You flinched, sharing a glance with Namjoon. “How do you know?” Namjoon asked, curious despite the intensity of the situation. They all looked at him like he grew a second head. Hoseok cleared his throat, suddenly looking less hostile. “So, another dimension?” Jin leaned back into his seat. “Taehyung and Jimin, go prepare a room for y/n. Jungkook, back to work. Yoongi, you too. Hoseok, we’ll discuss your temper and punishment later.” “Yes, Hyung,” the other boys chorused, then dispersed, with many glances back towards the two of you. Then it was just the three of you. Jin deflated and dropped his head into his hands, the heels of his hands rubbing his eyes. “Sorry about Hoseok. He hasn’t been the same since his family was killed, and when you…when our Namjoon was taken he sort of snapped. We all did, but in different ways. We can’t even get Jungkook-ssi to leave the barrack.” “And you all know English,” you murmured. He nodded, sitting straight again and fixing you both with a serious gaze. “I’ll have to talk to Jungkook and see what he’s been up to. He should know better than to mess with things beyond his understanding.” You stared for a moment. “You think Jungkook did this?” “Him or Jimin. If not them, then something is going on that is beyond my rank.” Jin looked worried. And he looked too thin. Drawn out. Like he had been shoved into a role that he had no idea how to fill and was at his wits end to do so. “Was I the leader?” Namjoon asked, taking your hand in his again and squeezing it. Jin nodded slowly. “We always thought Hoseok would be the leader if something happened to you, but he couldn’t be rational. He was in so much pain. It’s been a long time since he’s acted like our hope.” “Hyung,” Namjoon murmured, obviously worried about them even though you both knew that they weren’t the same people. “I’m sorry.” You wanted to just tuck Jin into a bed and feed him and tell him everything would be okay. You wanted to make him smile and laugh. “Yoongi has been doing what he could to help, but most of the time it’s all he can do just to keep Hoseok under control when I’m busy. Jimin and Taehyung stick together. Taehyung makes sure Jimin doesn’t get too upset when Hoseok brushes him off. Jungkook doesn’t normally cause any problems. He sticks with Taehyung and Jimin when they’re home. And he’s one of the few that Hoseok still seems to remember to care about.” Jin got up and straightened up the couch, then gestured for the two of you to follow him into the kitchen. He started scrubbing counters. “I’m doing my best, but i guess I’m failing. I don’t know why you…why he kept me in his team. Especially once Jungkook was able to do everything I could teach him. And our Namjoon has the same gifts I did. It should have been Hoseok. Maybe the responsibility would have kept him from going off. Namjoon. That idiot. He shouldn’t have saved me. He shouldn’t have chosen me.” You squeezed Namjoon’s hand to resist the urge to make Jin stop working so hard. He looked so pale. His eyes flashed silver and he flinched, knocking the vase to the ground as he almost collapsed. “Hyung!” Namjoon hurried to Jin’s side. You looked around and spotted the broom, waiting for Namjoon to help the protesting man out of the way so you could sweep. Namjoon practically forced Jin into one of the chairs. “I’m fine. It was just a small one,” Jin said. Jungkook came running in. “Hyung?” “I’m fine. It was just a small one.” “The physician said you should call him if you have one,” Jungkook murmured, still acting respectful, but also acting casually. “They’re getting more frequent…” “Everything will be okay, Jungkook-ssi. Don’t worry about me. I…” his eyes flashed again and he stiffened then his eyes rolled back. “Hyung?!” Jungkook caught Jin as he fell sideways. “Yoongi-Hyung! Hurry!” “Is—is he having a seizure?” You asked. Yoongi darted in. “Get him on the floor.” Jungkook and Namjoon got him on the floor and Yoongi put a hand on Jin’s chest as the man convulsed. Yoongi’s eyes glowed warmly despite his worried expression. He was focused intently on Jin, his own breathing getting rapid and shallow and the markings on his hands turning white. Jungkook pushes Yoongi away with a conflicted sound. “It’s not working!” “I called the doctor,” Jimin said in a worried voice from the doorway. Namjoon was staring in horror. “What’s happening?” “Jin is sick. That happens when…” Taehyung started to answer before he choked up. Namjoon dropped beside Jin, grabbing his hand. “What’s wrong with him? What does he have?” “He’s dying because Namjoon is too far away. They’re soul-bonded. It allows one of them to fight longer and harder, but if they’re separated for too long before the bond is broken…one of them will get sick and die.” Hoseok knelt on the other side of Jin, his expression more like that of J-Hope’s. He felt Jin’s forehead. “Come on, wake up. Wake up, Hyung.” You swallowed hard. “What happens if he doesn’t wake up?” Jungkook looked at you with big, scared eyes. “If? No…no, he has to. Wake up, Jin-ssi!” He started toward Jin but Yoongi and Jimin held him back. “Wake up, wake up, please!” You looked at Namjoon and saw that he was looking at you. You knew what he wanted to ask. He wanted to help his family here before you went back to your own dimension. You slowly nodded your agreement. He nodded back. “We should look for you. That might be the best way to find him.” You nodded. Then his eyes widened. “Wait, you understood me? I forgot to switch from Korean to English.” You stared at him. “Say something in Korean.” “You can speak Korean?” Taehyung asked you, looking surprised. “No,” you replied, folding your arms. “I only know a couple phrases.” “You’re speaking it now,” Hoseok said, his gaze still fixed on Jin, who had gone still. “And if you two aren’t the same as ours, then how do you intend to find her?” “Will it have changed who my parents are? Or my siblings? Will it change my name or my grandparents?” You asked, taking a deep breathe. “I have to believe that there will be enough similarities that we can recognize me. Or, this version of me.” Unless they were sent to your own universe. Jimin ran to let in the physician. You looked down at Jin, shuddering slightly. Yoongi was cradling his hand in his other, looking like he was in pain. Hoseok looked up at you, catching your gaze and holding it as he stood up and stood in front of you. Taehyung pulled Namjoon away and pushed him into a closet. Jin started convulsing again. The physician dropped next to Jin, murmuring and pulling out equipment. Hoseok turned your face back toward him. “Your Namjoon can help him. I know this version of you better than anyone else. He stays here. You go with me. You get me to him. I’ll get you back here.” You didn’t see any warmth or sincerity in his eyes. You were a tool. “Alive or dead?” He smirked. “That depends entirely on you.” The physician cursed. “He’s stopped breathing.”

Masterlist. Part 2.

#bts #bts fic #alternaterealityau #alternate reality nightmare fic #alternatereality!au #kim namjoon #alternatereality!bts #namjoon x reader

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pinelife3 · 5 years

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The Silence of the Girls

Pat Barker’s newish (August 2018) book The Silence of the Girls (TSOTG) recounts the final months of the Trojan War, as told by a slave woman. The obvious companion piece to TSOTG, and the key text Barker is responding to, is The Iliad, but Barker doesn’t pull out the way Homer did:

The Iliad only covers a few weeks in the last year of the war and does not include the famous Trojan horse or the actual defeat of Troy: at a high level, The Iliad covers Agamemnon’s lady troubles, the plague, Achilles’ sulking and decision not to fight, the death of Patroclus, Achilles’ return to battle, the death of Hector, the abuse of Hector’s body and Priam’s visit to Achilles.

TSOTG covers these events (also starting in media res - more on that later) from the perspective of Briseis. Our protagonist, formerly the wife of a king, was taken during the sacking of a city neighbouring Troy and was given to Achilles as a prize - like all of the women in the Greek camp, she is a slave. Barker and Briseis continue on after the burial of Hector to include the fall of Troy (no mention of the horse though...) and the rape and destruction which followed including the fate of Astyanax, the Trojan women being handed out as prizes, and the Greeks eventually setting off to return home.

I mention the famous events from the Trojan War above, but in TSOTG most of these happen off screen (out of our protagonist’s line of sight) and are reported to us as gossip spreading around the Greek camp. The reader is stuck in the camp with the women and doesn’t see any of the excitement and action on the battlefield (except for when Briseis climbs on the Myrmidon ships to see the battlefield in the distance). The reader is also privy to a lot of ‘girl talk’ amongst the women as they discus their experiences with the Greek soldiers: who’s pregnant, who’s beloved, who’s in favour. So despite hitting the same broad plot points, we are kept away from the iconic set pieces of the war, and instead get a tour through the backrooms where women do laundry, pray, and heal the injured soldiers.

When we studied Wide Sargasso Sea in high school, it became part of an interesting conversation on high-lit fan fiction: Jeans Rhys reveals the mysterious mad woman in Rochester’s attic, and she shows us how he drove her mad. More than a hundred years after Jane Eyre was published, Rhys, a Dominican author, chose to get into it with one of the stodgiest pieces of English literature out there. She introduced new themes of colonialism and undermined Rochester as the Byronic hero. I don’t think anyone will read Barker’s text that way - Homer’s works and the Bible are so canonical that referencing or interacting with them feels like it doesn’t count as fan fiction (has anyone ever argued that Paradise Lost was fan fic?). Because Barker is a serious author with a Booker Prize on her shelf, they call TSOTG a ‘retelling’ rather than fan fic, but what is more fan fic than recounting a famous story from another character’s perspective?

For reference: Stephanie Meyer has done this twice to her own novels. She retold Twilight from Edward’s POV in Midnight Sun and wrote a gender flipped version of Twilight called Life and Death: Twilight Reimagined. From Wikipedia, it seems like a pretty straight-forward find and replace job: Life and Death tells the story of 16 year old Beaufort Swan who moves from Arizona to Washington to live with his dad - on his first day at school, he meets the beautiful and mysterious Edythe Cullen...

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^^ It’s fun to laugh at Twilight but remember this: Bon Iver recorded a song for the soundtrack. The New Moon soundtrack also featured Death Cab for Cutie, Thom Yorke, Grizzly Bear and a bunch of other bands with legitimate indie credibility (Pitchfork still gave it a 5.4) - why did they agree to be on this soundtrack? They must be getting approached for this kind of work all the time and New Moon’s budget was not huge - only $50 million so it’s not like they would have been offering obscene cash. Probably a mystery for another time...

Most of Barker’s works deal with war in some capacity. The only other book of hers which I’ve read is Regeneration. In that book, Barker riffs on historical figures, places, events, and literary works as she explores the impacts of WWI on returning English soldiers suffering PTSD. There are a lot of complicated ideas moving around and bumping up against each other - it’s like she’s playing a 20 string guitar or jamming out on a 40 piece drum kit or something: she’s just super masterful and it’s a good read but also interesting to look at how she achieved it technically. It’s a super satisfying book to explore and think about and probably my favourite war book (maybe tied with Slaughterhouse 5).

In TSOTG, she’s still interested in war, but now she’s looking more closely at the impacts of war on women. In a way, TSOTG seems kind of blunt and stupid in its handling of war compared to Regeneration. Barker is so focused on proving that women had it bad during the war and trying to deromanticise the Greek warriors, that she depicts all the men (except Patroclus and Achilles) as childish brutes: they’re capricious and proud, they’re rough and inconsiderate, they take offence easily, they eat messily and they drink too much. We never see them in action on the battlefield, so the one thing they’re good at is hidden from us: we don’t get to admire their magnificence but when they die, the women make fun of their shriveled cocks. Of course, we see this through Briseis’ biased eyes (fair enough given her situation), but what she reports of their behaviour is pretty bleak. No one has a rich interiority: they just fuck, shit and fight. It seems like Barker’s argument is that the men must be assholes because they rape their slaves. But we know that’s not how it works: the men raped their slave women because that was the cultural norm but beyond the raping they were average guys. In fact, the raping and slaving made them average. Not heroes, not assholes. Just 1100BC guys.*

(*This isn’t ‘boys will be boys’ - if anything it’s historical relativism. I’m not saying it’s average because they were guys, I’m saying it’s average because it was a long time ago. Remember, Jesus was a radical thinker with all his wacky ideas about compassion and love - and he was still more than a 1000 years away. The Greeks were very advanced in some ways, but their culture relied on slavery - at a point you need to accept that that was their normal (bad by our standards, yes) and engage with them on their own terms otherwise you’ll never get anywhere in a conversation about their values.)

Barker retells this astonishing passage from The Iliad about three quarters of the way through TSOTG - just to set it up, Achilles killed Prince Hector and has been desecrating his corpse (dragging it behind his chariot) as vengeance for the death of Patroclus (Achilles’ closest friend). In ancient Greece, it was believed that you couldn’t pass on to the underworld until you’d had a proper burial. Beyond being disrespectful, the abuse of Hector’s body torments his family because it means Hector cannot pass peacefully to the afterlife. Growing desperate, Hector’s father King Priam has snuck out of Troy and come to the Greek camp to beg Achilles to return Hector’s body:

Priam found the warrior there inside ... many captains sitting some way off, but two, veteran Automedon and the fine fighter Alcimus were busy serving him. He had just finished dinner, eating, drinking, and the table still stood near. The majestic king of Troy slipped past the rest and kneeling down beside Achilles, clasped his knees and kissed his hands, those terrible, man-killing hands that had slaughtered Priam's many sons in battle. Awesome - as when the grip of madness seizes one who murders a man in his own fatherland and flees abroad to foreign shores, to a wealthy, noble host, and a sense of marvel runs through all who see him so Achilles marveled, beholding majestic Priam. His men marveled too, trading startled glances. But Priam prayed his heart out to Achilles: "Remember your own father, great godlike Achilles - as old as I am, past the threshold of deadly old age! No doubt the countrymen round about him plague him now, with no one there to defend him, beat away disaster. No one - but at least he hears you're still alive and his old heart rejoices, hopes rising, day by day, to see his beloved son come sailing home from Troy. But l - dear god, my life so cursed by fate ... I fathered hero sons in the wide realm of Troy and now not a single one is left, I tell you. Fifty sons I had when the sons of Achaea came, nineteen born to me from a single mother's womb and the rest by other women in the palace. Many, most of them violent Ares cut the knees from under. But one, one was left me, to guard my walls, my people the one you killed the other day, defending his fatherland, my Hector! It's all for him I've come to the ships now, to win him back from you - I bring a priceless ransom. Revere the gods, Achilles! Pity me in my own right, remember your own father! I deserve more pity ... I have endured what no one on earth has ever done before - I put to my lips the hands of the man who killed my son." Those words stirred within Achilles a deep desire to grieve for his own father. Taking the old man's hand he gently moved him back. And overpowered by memory both men gave way to grief. Priam wept freely for man-killing Hector, throbbing, crouching before Achilles' feet as Achilles wept himself, now for his father, now for Patroclus once again, and their sobbing rose and fell throughout the house.

(Not sure about this translation but it’s the best I could find online)

So this scene plays out beat for beat in TSOTG, and it’s very moving and well done (well done by Homer originally - and Barker renders it well too), but Barker wants to make it about the women so in response to Priam’s famous line ‘I kiss the hands of the man who killed my son’, Briseis thinks: "And I do what countless women before me have been forced to do. I spread my legs for the man who killed my husband and my brothers.” Is she an asshole for thinking about herself in this moment? I understand what Barker is trying to do: elevate the suffering of the women to the same platform that the men have always had. But this is graceless. It’s not a competition.

Another element I found frustrating was the suggestion in TSOTG that the Greeks regarded Achilles’ close bond with Patroclus as unusual - characters are scornful of Achilles’ relationship with Patroclus and make snickering jokes about them being gay. This is disappointing because I am sure Barker did her research and therefore she must know that ancient Greece was probably more accepting of homosexuality (at least between men) than society is today. The only whisper of controversy around their relationship was the ancient equivalent of the ‘who’s the bottom?’ question: the Greeks would have been curious about who was dominant and who was passive, but wouldn’t have raised an eyebrow at Patroclus and Achilles being together.

Frank Miller also choose to make his ancient Greeks homophobic in 300 and Alan Moore, always happy to play the expert, was quick to point out the mistake:

There was just one particular line in it where one of the Spartan soldiers—I'll remind you, this is Spartans that we're talking about—one of them was talking disparagingly about the Athenians, and said, ‘Those boy-lovers.' You know, I mean, read a book, Frank. The Spartans were famous for something other than holding the bridge at Thermopylae, they were quite famous for actually enforcing man-boy love amongst the ranks as a way of military bonding. That specific example probably says more about Frank's grasp of history than it does about his grasp of homosexuality, so I'm not impugning his moral situation there. I'm not saying it was homophobic; just wasn't very well researched.

Anyone with even a passing knowledge of ancient Greece would be familiar with their permissive attitudes toward homosexuality. Why did she choose to do this? I know she’s not homophobic because Regeneration sensitively observed the suffering of gay men, for example that minor speech impediments (lisps, stutters) manifested in men who were repressing their homosexuality. I don’t understand this choice from a woman who wrote maybe the best war book of all time.

TSOTG wraps up with a reflection on memory and the stories people want to hear:

I thought: Suppose, suppose just once, once, in all these centuries, the slippery gods keep their word and Achilles is granted eternal glory in return for his early death under the walls of Troy...? What will they make of us, the people of those unimaginably distant times? One thing I do know: they won’t want the brutal reality of conquest and slavery. They won’t want to be told about the massacres of men and boys, the enslavement of women and girls. They won’t want to know we were living in a rape camp. No, they’ll go for something altogether softer. A love story, perhaps? I just hope they manage to work out who the lovers were. His story. His, not mine. It ends at his grave... Once, not so long ago, I tried to walk out of Achilles’ story - and failed. Now, my own story can begin.

Through the sickening dramatic irony, I can pick out three points Barker is trying to make:

Achilles looms large, but Briseis is her own person and deserves her own story

This is the untold true story of what really went down during the Trojan War - the people aren’t ready for this heat but I, Pat Barker, will bring it to them regardless

This isn’t a love story, but if it were, it would be the authoritative and definitive Trojan War love story

Point 1: Briseis deserves her own story

As I mentioned earlier, TSOTG begins in media res - meaning unlike in Troy, we don’t see what the gang was doing before the fighting kicked off, the catalysts of the war, the journey from Greece, etc. The action begins mid-way through the war, mid-way through a day, mid-way through a battle as our protagonist, mid-way through her life, peers over the parapets watching the Greeks disembowel her countrymen. So TSOTG begins as Achilles enters Briseis’ life and ends just as he leaves it - it begins in media res because no one would want to hear about her boring ass life before incandescent Achilles walked into it. Briseis is most interesting when she’s talking about Achilles, watching him from afar, describing their awkward encounters, analysing his behaviour - sure, the story is from Briseis’ perspective, but she’s always looking at Achilles. Is Barker arguing that we should care about Briseis outside of Achilles? She can’t have it both ways! She can’t complain that no one cares about anything but Achilles and then tell a story centered around Achilles, make Achilles the most interesting character and - in a particularly weird move - allow him to narrate some chapters in the second half of the book.

Point 2: This is the grittiest telling of the Trojan War that readers have ever had to grit their teeth through

The suggestion that this is ‘the untold true story of the women of Troy’ is totally bogus - exploring what the Trojan War cost women has been done. Euripides wrote the The Trojan Women in ~415BC, some 600+ years after when the Trojan War is estimated to have taken place (if it took place at all). It’s a tragedy which focuses on the Trojan women (Hecuba, Andromache and co.) as they process the death of their husbands, and learn what their fate will be (i.e. which Greek they will be gifted to). As with TSOTG, the action happens off-stage, out of the women’s line of sight and is reported to them by men as they come and go from the stage. It is a relentlessly horrible play: the centerpiece is the murder of Hector’s baby son Astyanax (Odysseus throws him from the walls of Troy) and the women’s response to this terrible news.

It seems like Barker also takes issue with modern narratives glossing over the rape, slaughter and slavery that occurred during the war - but even Troy (by no means an unromantic movie) makes these elements pretty explicit:

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In the clip above, the Myrmidons have brought Achilles the newly enslaved Briseis in case he would like to rape her. The slavery and rape threat elements are there. Is Barker saying that she wants to see the rape? Does this scene somehow read as romantic because he chooses not to rape her? Rape is being used more and more, especially in TV, as a way of creating realism in fantasy shows - and people do seem to have an appetite for it (see: Game of Thrones, Outlander). So her suggestion that modern audiences want a sanitised version of the war doesn’t work for me.

Point 3: This isn’t a love story. It’s about rape. But also... don’t you just love Achilles?

Quoting from Briseis’ final words again:

No, they’ll go for something altogether softer. A love story, perhaps? I just hope they manage to work out who the lovers were.

Sounds pointed. Barker is implying someone out there got the lovers wrong. It can’t be Troy because they went with the Achilles/Briseis angle too, so is she referring to Madeline Miller? Miller’s 2011 novel The Song of Achilles is a love story focused on Patroclus and Achilles (disclosure: I haven’t read it). As I mentioned earlier, Barker, going against all evidence we have about ancient Greece, chose to make her Greeks homophobic. She does touch on Achilles and Patroclus’ famous intimacy, but frames it more as some kind of preternatural closeness which goes beyond brothers or lovers. In Barker’s defence, Homer never explicitly said that Achilles and Patroclus were lovers, but the suggestion of it is certainly part of the canon. I had a high school Classics teacher who scoffed at Troy because she thought Achilles should have been banging Patroclus instead of Briseis.

Also: since we’re talking about a ‘rape camp’, were there really many lovers?

For a feminist take on The Iliad, this book has some weird gender politics. Achilles rapes our protagonist - a lot. He’s childish, he has mummy issues, he’s abrasive and fussy - but we want Briseis to win him over! We want Achilles to notice her. He’s so magnetic, even if you write him as a spoiled pig, he’s still Achilles. He’s the coolest guy in school. He’s the rower with big shoulders. He wears his hat backwards. He comes to school on Monday with a black eye. He doesn’t know anything about computers. He says he likes Hemingway. He smells good without deodorant. His socks never stay up. If you walk beside him in a hallway, you can feel heat radiating from his body. His pouting and brattiness play into his magnetism somehow. I honestly think Barker might have fallen into the same trap as high school girls throughout history: we just love a bad boy. Want a glimpse into the terrifying mind of teenage girl? When I was 17, I dumped my high school boyfriend because he wasn’t enough like Achilles or Hector. People are romantic about the Trojan War, but that doesn’t mean they want a love story.

#Homer #Troy #Trojan War #Pat Barker #The Silence of the Girls #Regeneration #Achilles #Briseis #Wide Sargasso Sea #Jean Rhys #Jane Eyre #Twilight #300 #Frank Miller #alan moore

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