#logical me would tell me to pick the grass one
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Felix And Your Tavern; Chapter 2
A/N: Okay so I’m back by popular demand because I LOVE LEE FELIX AND SO DO YALL!!! Anyways, doing this part in bullet points too, so sorry if you were expecting me to make an actual well written fic cause this is not it. As usual, forgive any spelling errors, I ALWAYS miss some on my proof reading cause my word vomit is insane. Anyways, enjoy!
Part I Part II
Warning(s): alcohol, swearing, also some talk about death, but that’s about it. Reader has the title of wife.
HES SO !!!
It was late autumn when you brought the idea up to Felix about getting a bar-hand for the Tavern.
With the weather getting colder, people were more likely to want a hot meal with their drink, which meant that Felix was getting a bit too busy managing both the kitchen and the bar by himself.
And with you serving the tables, keeping track of all the payments, and dealing with the inn residency, you were too busy to pick up his slack.
Felix knew this.
it made logical sense
but it made him anxious to no end...
“My Love, I understand. But we can’t trust anyone.” He said with a frown. You nodded along, wiping the bartop with a rag. When you looked up at your husband, you mirrored his frown.
“I know. That’s why we don’t tell them anything.” You countered, tossing your rag in the sink. You then went around to the tables and began removing the chairs from the top of them, tucking them in their rightful spot underneath.
You were to open for the evening soon, so Felix began to help you prepare by taking chairs off the tables and putting them in their places as well.
“They won’t need to know anything besides we own a tavern and an inn, and that we need their help.” You hummed, dusting off your hands on your thighs and returning to the bar, where Felix was removing the final stool.
You looped your arms around his waist and pulled him closer to you. He gazed into your eyes and you swore you still got butterflies when he stared.
“We need the help, Dear.” You whispered, focusing more on the beating of your lover’s heart than the actual conversation
and with the way Felix was gazing at your lips, it seems like he wasn’t too focused on the conversation anymore either.
“I know we do.” He sighed in defeat, before letting his heart take over and place a kiss on your lips.
When you parted, you smiled at him
You’ll never get used to the feeling of kissing Felix
it always gave you this light, airy feeling in your chest.
Pushing off him, you went back to work, not before placing one last peck on his cheek.
“I’ll post a notice by the door.” You hummed, taking the clean cups from where you left them to dry and hang them on the wine track above the bar
That night, you got a few inquiries about the job, but nobody who seemed truly interested.
But your saving grace came through the door well into the evening.
Hwang Hyunjin.
He was an occasional visitor at your little tavern, opting to come once or twice a week to have a drink and then go off to wherever he went
you honestly didn’t know what he did at night after his visit at the bar.
nor did you think it was you place to ask
none of your business, you supposed
but he always ordered the same thing; red wine and some fresh bread.
all you knew about him was he was a hunter.
Well, you assumed he was a hunter
He would tell stories of being out in the wild woods, how beautiful the world looked from under the green canopies with nothing but the grass under your feet, wind against your skin and the moon in the sky
You liked Hyunjin.
He was always very kind to you and Felix while being at the bar
as well as respected other patrons
not to mention, he never asked questions about your personal life
he only ever asked about what your plans for the future were and stories from the days he didn’t come in
Felix liked Hyunjin too.
He made sure to compliment Felix’s cooking and always left a bit of a tip ‘for excellent company and even more excellent food’
Hyunjin was a good guy in Felix’s mind, no matter what the other patrons said.
some thought he was odd because he preferred to be alone and was very private, but that never really bothered Felix
Hyunjin was nice to him and you
always was.
“Why hello stranger!” You joked, serving the man at his usual table near the back of the tavern
it was closest to the area you had musicians come perform.
Hyunjin always enjoyed the music when he came in
“The usual I presume?” You asked, to which Hyunjin nodded, with a smile.
You returned quickly with his usual order, setting the glass of wine down carefully
Felix liked to fill it to the brim when it was for Hyunjin
“What’s new?” Hyunjin asked, taking a sip from his full glass. You tucked the serving tray you had under your arm before shifting your weight more comfortably on your feet.
“Nothing much. Winter is coming soon, so we’ll have to start preparing the inn for that.” You hummed, letting a humorous grin play on your features as an image popped into you head, “I’ll have to get Felix to start chopping fire wood.”
“I think that is much more of a job for you, not him” Hyunjin laughed, taking a bite of the warm bread you had brought him, “I don’t quite peg Felix as a manual labor kind of guy...”
“You’d be surprised!” You said with a grin, “I’ll have you know, Felix worked as a farmhand for half a year to support us.”
“Now that I don’t believe!” Hyunjin chuckled, taking one more sip from his drink, “Felix is so skilled with domestic things like cooking and keeping clean, I would have never guessed.”
“I guess Felix is good at a lot of things.” You said simply, brushing a stray hair away from your face.
“Speaking of jobs, I see you’re hiring?” Hyunjin asked, nodding his head towards the door where your little parchment was hanging.
“We are.” You turned to look at the posting before smiling back at Hyunjin, “know anyone who would be interested?”
Hyunjin hummed, swirling his drink in his glass a few times before downing the remaining alcohol.
“I’d be interested.” He said, seriousness evident in his demeanor,
“that is, if you would want me?”
You perked up at the offer.
Hyunjin seemed like a good fit for the job
He was charismatic and seemed to be able to think and act quickly
not to mention both you and Felix already got along well with him and he knew the Tavern well from his visits.
“I’ll have to speak with Felix, but I think you’d be a fine fit for the position. Can you maybe come in tomorrow at noon?”
“Sounds lovely.”
“Great! Me and Felix will talk tonight and ask you some questions tomorrow, but truthfully, I don’t see why you wouldn’t be a perfect addition to our operation here.”
Hyunjin smiled with a nod, before standing and bidding you a farewell. He placed the coins he owed on the table before leaving, weaving gracefully between the tables and other patrons
Felix agreed before you even needed to explain your thoughts
If you had to get a bar-hand, Hyunjin was your best bet.
And Hyunjin enjoyed his work at your tavern
It always had felt like a second home to him
well, besides the woods of course.
He felt welcomed by you and Felix!
so spending every evening there was nice, especially now that it was getting cold outside
and he always needed to make more money so he’d be able to live.
And yes, Hyunjin made sure to never ask about your personal lives
because it was truly none of his business to ask you beyond what you were willing to share
However, he wasn’t stupid.
He wasn’t exactly sure about your past with Felix, but he tended to notice things when he would come in.
How you avoided talking about where you and Felix came from before landing in here in Miroh
or why you didn’t have any family or other friends.
or even where you got the long, silver bow that hung behind the bar.
You were good people, who never gave Hyunjin any reason to question that.
So he thought it best to just keep quiet
Working at the Tavern went much more smoothly after Hyunjin joined in
Felix mostly stayed in the kitchen now, but he also helped take a bit of the load off you too by dealing with the inn residences
and Hyunjin worked the bar well, never forgetting to serve the counter as he prepared your orders from the tables with an equal amount of quality and haste.
for months, this system worked well!
even when the dead of winter rolled around and the inn and tavern were at its all time peak in patrons due to the cold weather.
It was another night like this where the bar was packed and many people were sat and stood around the tables
You had a man singing today, his voice beautifully ringing throughout the tavern for all to hear.
You reminded Felix to make a plate up for him for when he was done his performance.
(You think he was named Seungmin? Rumor had it he was once a court musician for the Duchess of the Central Valley before he was dismissed)
You were slipping through the people, trying your best not to bump into anyone or knock your tray over when you felt it.
sharp eyes burning through you.
You made a quick glance around the room when your eyes met with a man in the corner of the room.
He was accompanied by two more men, all of which seemed to be skilled adventurers.
You kept your composure under the man’s scrutinous gaze, however you couldn’t help the sick feeling in your stomach.
You looked away, turning and standing at the bar. You placed your tray down for Hyunjin to put your order on it.
“Jin,” You called, earning a hum form the man behind the bar, “That group in the back. Who are they?”
Hyunjin let his eyes float to the table you were referencing before slightly frowning at you.
“Travelers. I’ve only heard passing whispers about them, but they are known around these parts as 3racha.”
“And?”
“All I know about them is that they often take many quests and wander the lands slaying monsters.”
“Hmm. Thank you.”
You took a deep breath, trying to shake the nerves you felt from being so close to adventurers.
it was the first time you’d ever encountered bounty hunters, and it scared you shitless.
Approaching their table, you put on the brightest smile you could as your eyes locked onto the one who wouldn’t stop staring
A stoic looking fellow with a fur cloak draped across his broad frame.
to his left, a shorter, stronger man holding a large claymore and a nasty look.
and his right was a pretty, squirrelly man that you could feel had this aura of magic surrounding him
You could tell they were strong just from the atmosphere they created around them
“Hello gentlemen, what can I do for you this evening?” You said, tone even.
You weren’t even sure if they were here for you, but you felt defensive nonetheless
The man with the cloak hummed, eyes not breaking contact with yours
“We hear you are famous for your baked goods.” He spoke confidently, voice coming out with an accent, “What would you suggest?”
“My husband spent all morning baking cranberry tarts.” You said, tucking a stray hair behind your ear as you smiled softly, “I would recommend that. We also have a fine selection of beverages if you feel so inclined.”
“Your husband?” The Big man asked, digging the tip of his claymore into the wood of the floor, before he looked up at you, “You mean the man behind the bar?”
“No, that is our bar-hand.” You answered simply, before quipping back, “Why do you ask? Perhaps you have an interest in him? I can introduce you, if you’d like.”
Pretty man let out a chuckle at your joke, before trying to cover it with a cough. Big man’s face heated up in what you could only assume was embarrassment or irritation, before your attention was directed back to the man in the cloak.
You blinked innocently at him, holding your tray limply at your side.
You felt like you were on trial as he stared at you. The tension seemed thick before he cleared his throat and grinned.
It made you feel even more unsettled...
“Tarts sound wonderful. We’ll take three.” He spoke politely, to which you nodded and retreated behind the bar into the kitchen for the pastries.
Felix was working there, washing dishes and humming a tune to himself with a small smile on his face.
It made you happy to see him so carefree.
You came up behind him, wrapping your arms around your husband’s torso.
You could feel the beating of your heart in your throat, and for once it wasn’t from Felix...
“Hey Love.” He cheered, turning his head to be able to place a chaste kiss on your lips, “Busy night, huh?”
“Very.” You chuckled breathlessly, trying not to let the sickness pooling in your stomach read on your face.
You didn’t want to worry Felix with the trouble of 3racha
As much as you loved Felix’s emotional side, it was sometimes a curse.
one that you didn’t need right now when you were barely holding on yourself.
besides, you weren’t even sure if it was trouble yet.
it could be just a feeling of unease and paranoia getting the better of you...
“I’m here for the tarts, A table just ordered some.” You said as nonchalantly as possible.
Felix beamed, eyes lighting up upon hearing that someone wanted to eat his baking.
as if it wasn’t a normal occurrence for people to ask specifically for Felix’s food
“Ask them how it tastes.” He said excitedly, drying his hands on the towel near the sink before helping placing some on a plate and hand them to you, “I tried a new recipe and I need to know if its good.”
“Will do, Dear.” You said with a smile. You eyes fell upon Felix and you felt your chest heave with anxiety and your heart squeeze with worry.
Before you could even think about it, you set the tray down on the counter and wrapped your arms tightly around your husband
Even though he was confused on why you hugged him unprompted, he didn’t hesitate to hug you back, holding you close to him.
you stayed like that for a moment, taking in his scent before sighing.
“I love you so much, you know.” You whispered dreamily, causing Felix to squeeze your body tighter.
“I love you too.” He replied, and you could hear the grin in his voice, making you grin too. When you finally let him go, you placed one more kiss on his soft lips, letting it fuel you enough to go back out there and face whatever was in store for you.
And when you did return to the table, placing the tarts on the wooden surface gently, you willed yourself to be calm and to appear as cheerful as possible
even if your instincts were screaming.
“Thank you, Darling.” The man in the cloak said with a smile. The name sounded like poison coming from his lips and you resisted the urge to grimace.
“Is that all for you, gentlemen?” You asked sweetly, hoping to be done with this interaction and get back to work.
You were sure this feeling was just paranoia and you were overreacting
yes, this must all be a misunderstanding and-
“Actually I have a few questions for you, if you don’t mind.” The man with the cloak answered seriously; Big man and Pretty man were much to busy eating to even speak, which would have been kinda endearing if you weren’t sick to your stomach.
“What can I help you with?” You asked, cringing at the fact that your tone came out a bit more shaky than intended
“I’ll be straight with you, we are adventurers. And we have come to these lands on a quest.”
“ah, I see...”
“Looking for the kidnapped prince from Clé. I’m sure you’ve heard of him by now?”
You felt your heart drop to your stomach as you nodded along to the man’s words. You felt a burning in your throat and you could barely trust yourself to be able to speak.
“Rumor has it, he is being hid away somewhere in this area.” The man in the cloak watched you intently, a wicked grin adorning his features, “You wouldn’t happen to know about that, would you?”
His associates stopped eating for a moment, gazing up at you.
You felt like you were suffocating in this moment.
Like you were drowning, everything around you slowed and you took a breath, hopefully to steady yourself enough before replying.
“I don’t, sorry.” You said weakly, feeling like a mouse caught in a trap.
“Now, we all know that’s not true, (Y/N).” The cloaked man said bluntly, leaning his elbows on the table and tilting his head slightly.
You stared back at him helplessly, feeling like you were an inch tall under the man’s gaze.
He knew you.
He knew your name.
It was like someone pumped your body with lead as you stood staring at the man.
“Y’know, these tarts are very good. I’d love to tell your husband myself how good they are.” The Pretty man hummed, batting his eyelashes at you tauntingly, “What did you say his name was?”
“Felix. His name is Felix.” You said firmly, willing all the strength you have in your body to standing upright.
“How much would you bet that your husband bares a resemblance to Prince Yongbok, hm?” The Big man asked, before pulling out a parchment with a portrait on it. You glanced down and immediately recognized it as Felix on the painting of the royal family that was in the dinning room of the castle.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. My husband isn’t the prince.” You said weakly, clearing your throat, earning a grimace from the cloaked man in front of you.
“If there is one thing I hate more than kidnappers,” He growled, gaze cold, “It’s kidnappers who lie.”
You could see out of your peripheral Big man grip his claymore as if he was ready to draw it on you.
You didn’t want to start a fight in the tavern while it was full and busy
but you were damn sure not going to let these men ruin everything you and Felix built.
so you did the only thing you could in the moment.
“I don’t lie.” You explained stiffly, narrowing your eyes at the men, “If anything, whatever you’ve heard about that situation is the lie.”
You were hoping to buy yourself some time to think of a way to defuse the situation
perhaps even lead the men outside for a confrontation instead?
That didn’t seem like an option when the man in the cloak chuckled, clearly irritated by your words. He moved his cloak out of the way to reveal the shiny steel of a sword hilt.
but before he could say another word, you felt a warm hand wrap around your shoulder.
Hyunjin.
Your beam of light in the darkness.
“Hey fellas, what seems to be the problem here?” He spoke smoothly, expression light as he held you firmly.
“Nothing.” The cloaked man said, before smiling at Hyunjin. He readjusted his cloak to cover his sword back up, “Just enjoying these lovely cranberry tarts and wanting to tell the chef.”
“Oh, he’s very busy tonight,” Hyunjin chuckled, gesturing around the room before landing his eyes back on the three men at the table, “My dear master here will be sure to tell the chef you enjoyed them though, don’t worry!”
“Splendid.” The man with the cloak said, features bright as his gaze still bore into you face.
You couldn’t help the uneasiness you felt, but with Hyunjin there you knew it wold be okay for now.
“Is that all? My master has many patrons to attend to.” Hyunjin asked with ease. You were almost in awe at how he seemed so unshaken and was so easily able to release all the tension in the air.
“erm.... well...” The man in the cloak mumbled before Pretty man’s face lit up.
“Indeed!” He cheered, glancing between you and Hyunjin, “We require a room to stay in.”
“Excellent.” Hyunjin hummed with a bow, before gesturing to you, “my master will go prepare your key and room for you, if you’ll wait here.”
He quickly sent you away, not without a look of worry that you dismissed with a nod and a weak smile.
You hoped that your expression conveyed how grateful you were to Hyunjin
Because the moment you got to the back to grab a key, you took a sigh of relief.
You were okay for now, but you knew this was just prolonging the inevitable.
so when you closed up for the night and laid down in your room to sleep, you didn’t forget to put the long, silver dagger you owned between your mattress and the frame; hilt out for quick access.
And while Felix failed to notice this, he didn’t fail to notice how on edge you were.
He stripped from his work pants, eyeing you anxiously fiddling with the sheets below you and staring off into space.
“What has you so troubled, My Love?” Felix asked softly, folding his work clothes and placing them on a chair across the room.
“Hm?” You looked up at Felix’s broad back before he turned to face you, eyes soft and face gentle, “Nothing.”
Felix hummed disapprovingly, walking to where you sat on the bed and knelt in front of you.
He laced his hands with yours, studying your face before placing a kiss to your knuckles.
“You can tell me anything, you know?” Felix said
“I know.”
“Then tell me, what is on your mind?”
“I guess it’s just...” You start. You look into Felix’s eyes and feel a sense of warmth.
He always brought you comfort, his empathetic nature was one of the best parts about how in touch with his feelings he was; you always loved that about him.
“I love you so much, it’s painful sometimes.” You begin again, taking a deep breath and bringing Felix’s hand to your cheek. He reacts immediately, cupping your face gently and smoothing his thumb over your cheekbone, face full of worry.
“I’m so happy with you and we’ve worked so hard, I worry sometimes how easily it can all be taken away. How you can be taken away.” You explained, feeling the stress finally spill over as you release a few tears, “Life has no meaning without you. I just get scared sometimes it’s all going to disappear.”
Felix stands before finding his place beside you on the bed, coming so close you can feel his breath across your face.
his heart felt like it was going to explode at your words.
of course he’s had anxieties and worries too
but he’s able to get through it because you’re always there
you’re his stable rock telling him it’s okay and as long you are together, everything will be fine
so he needs to be that for you now.
“Come here, lay with me.” He suggests, pulling you down so you lay in his grasp.
he is warm under you, like the midday sun.
You can count the freckles on his beautiful faces from this distance, like stars painted on an angel.
“I know it’s scary,” Felix begins. His deep voice is resonating in his chest against your head as he smooths his hands up and down your shoulders and back soothingly,
“I love you more than words can describe, (Y/N). And I promise you, as long as I’m still living, I will do everything in my power to be with you. I’ll keep you safe and happy, until my dying breath.”
“I love you.” You confessed again in a hushed tone, nuzzling your face into his neck. Felix grinned to himself, feeling giddy as if it was the first time he’d heard you say those three magic words.
“I love you too.” He repeated, squeezing you slightly.
You laid with Felix in the dark for what seemed like and eternity, with Felix lazily stroking your back and placing soft pecks on your head before he allowed himself to slip into the sweet release of sleep.
But not you.
You stayed awake, listing to the evenness of Felix’s breathing as you relished in his hold.
it felt like the last time you’d feel it.
It was well into the twilight when he came; the man in the cloak.
He moved quietly, only the sound of his feet padding against the wooden floorboards could be heard as he entered the room
he was illuminated by the light of a single lantern, just bright enough to see your sleeping figure.
carefully, he drew his sword and placed the tip at your throat, ready to strike you where you laid.
but he hesitated when he saw Felix grasping onto you so tenderly
why would he..?
“I expected you to come.” you whispered, your bleary eyes reflecting the light of the flame. It shook the man to his core how calm you seemed
“Yet you still housed me and my party...” He said, voice low and deep. you shifted ever so slightly as not to wake Felix or be stabbed through the neck
“Give me one good reason I shouldn’t run you through.” He asked firmly, eyes cold and sharp as he stared down at your tired face.
But you had prepared.
You gracefully swing your arm up so the tip of your dagger laid at his chest. You expression showed no fear, much unlike the man’s, although he did his best to stay composed.
“You want to kill me? do it.” You said simply, pushing the blade closer to the man, “But be prepared to pay with your life.”
Just then, Felix shifted slightly and you freeze.
You would hate to wake him, even now when your life was potentially moments from ending.
The man froze in place too as Felix pulled you closer to him and took a deep breath, seemingly at ease by your presence.
This made no sense...
you sighed, removing the dagger from the man’s chest only slightly.
“Listen, if you’re going to kill me, please not here. I don’t want to wake him.” You begged quietly, eyes softening at the man in front of you.
He was still for a moment before nodding solemnly at you. He backed away enough for you to wriggle out of Felix’s grasp.
However, your movement caused your husband to stir.
“mhhmmm... where are you going, My Love?” He slurred, eyes closed and body still heavy on the bed, but clear concern in his voice.
This behavior confused the man even more as he watched you give Felix’s hand a gentle squeeze.
“Bathroom. I’ll be right back.” You lied with an endearing grin, petting his hair lovingly. The prince hummed before rolling over, facing the far wall and falling back to sleep.
You turned to the man and nodded towards the door, where you both exited.
Placing your dagger and his lantern on the bar, you pulled out two glasses from their places on the drying rack.
“What are you doing?” He asked, voice laced with an uncertainty.
“Well,” You began, grabbing a bottle of wine from behind the bar and uncorking it, “If you’re going to kill me, I’d much prefer to have a drink first, wouldn’t you? It’s on the house.”
The man stared at you for a moment before pulling a stool down and sitting at the bar, sword laying in his lap.
You silently poured the wine into the two glasses, sliding one across the bar to him.
You take a drink from your glass, feeling a sense of dread deep down in your stomach
but it was smothered but this horrifying numb feeling of the inevitability of this situation.
“Can I ask you something?” The man asked after what seemed like an eternity.
“shoot.”
“Why did you do it? Why did you kidnap the prince?”
“I told you, that’s a lie.” You swirled your drink around in your glass before taking another sip of it.
It tasted bitter as it washed down your throat, but you weren’t sure if it was truly from the alcohol or because of what this man was accusing you of.
“Then what is the truth?” The man mumbled, eyes down as he circled the rim of his glass. His lips were drawn into a thin line as you smiled weakly at his request.
“The truth is, we were in love. We are in love.” You hummed, leaning your elbows on the bartop before continuing.
“Its funny, it was actually his idea to leave, you know.”
“What happened?”
“Oh gosh, where do I even begin?”
And you told the man everything; how you began working in the castle as his courtier, how you fell in love, how he got the name Felix, the engagement, the ball, buying the tavern.
Everything.
When you finished, you downed the remainder of your drink and put the glass in the sink calmly.
The man said nothing all throughout your story, and even now he stayed silent. He stared down at the bartop, conflict running in his mind.
“You expect me to believe that?” He finally said, looking up at you. His expression was softer now, almost apologetic.
“Believe what you want.” You said with a shrug, grabbing the hilt of your dagger and holding it at your side, “But you better believe you’ll have to kill me before you are able to lay a hand on Felix. And even if you do kill me, because you know I won’t go down without a fight, good luck bringing Felix back to that wretched place in one piece. He would rather die than go back there and live as the prince.”
The man sat in silence for a moment, trying to read you; see if you have spoke any untruths.
But he couldn’t seem to find any in your tired eyes.
“You know,” The man sighed, grabbing his sword by the hilt, “I pride myself on being a man of honor. One who has a good morality and always does what’s right, no matter the consequences.”
He sheathed his sword and held his hand out for you to shake.
“I want to believe you. Based on everything you’ve said, this place, even how the pri-.... Felix was behaving, I trust you.”
You shake the man’s hand, letting out a deep breath that you didn’t know you were holding.
“Thank you.” You whispered, feeling like you were going to cry from all the tension you had stored up for the past 12 hours.
“I’ll be sure to explain to my colleagues the situation. I’m sure they’ll understand your predicament. Especially Jisung.”
You nodded, but your confusion on who that was must have read on your face because the man in front of you chuckled tiredly.
“I forgot, you don’t even know our names...” The man hummed, before grinning at you, “The name’s Chan.”
“Nice to meet you, now that you aren’t pointing a blade at my face.” You snickered, feeling relieved at the newfound ally-ship of Chan.
“I wont keep you up any longer, (Y/N).” Chan said, bowing at you. You bowed back at him, turning to retreat back to your room
back into your husbands grasp.
But you remembered something.
“Oh, one last thing!” You called back to Chan, who was already at the bottom of the stairs to go back to him room. He looked at you perplexedly, but stopped anyways to let you speak.
“Felix wanted to know how the tarts tasted? He was so happy someone ordered some.” You grinned. Chan let out a breathless laugh, the corners of his mouth curling upwards at your question.
“Tell him they were fantastic. I’m pretty sure my colleague Changbin wants some for the road.” Chan replied, showing off a set of dimples. You nodded before waving the man off, retreating back to your room.
You swore, you have never slept as good as you did that night after your encounter with Chan.
You would also occasionally see 3racha come back to your tavern time and time again
usually when they were in the area for a quest, but they never failed to spend the night and try whatever was specially made that day.
and because of them, you put up a Quest board by the door for people who had odd jobs and were looking for adventurers to complete them.
Things calmed down a bit after that
You were glad, cause it meant you got to spend much more time with Felix, which was nice.
Some nights Felix would hear a song he particularly liked and would emerge from the kitchen to pick you out of the crowd and dance with you.
You always felt happiest in those few moment holding his hands as he twirled you around and sang off key
and on the particularly cold nights, after you were all closed up for the evening,
Felix would read to you, with you snuggled up under his chin and his arms around you, illuminated only by the light of a single candlestick.
It began with simple short stories, but soon enough it became a nightly occurrence and Felix would read novels over the course of a week or two.
And when the snow eventually started to melt and spring rolled around, you would go out to the meadow just beyond the northern border of Miroh and have afternoon picnics.
Felix liked these days best.
You always looked so beautiful, basking in the warm sun while telling him about whatever juicy gossip you heard at the tavern that week.
It reminded him of the afternoons you would accompany him to the greenhouse at the castle, and how those were his favourite days back then too.
only now, you were his wife, and he was free to love you more wholeheartedly.
It was a sunny afternoon and you and Felix were simply enjoying each other’s company
he laid with his head in your lap as you talked about the newest shipment of ale you were to get tomorrow morning, your fingers mindlessly scratching at his scalp.
he let his eyes flutter shut, the sound of your voice and the smell of your skin putting Felix in a dreamy haze
He wasn’t sure how long he had been asleep for when you finally tapped delicately on his cheek.
“Hey, I’m so boring you fell asleep?” You teased, causing Felix to sigh and look up at you.
Felix swore you had to be an angel, especially in that moment.
“You could never bore me, My Love.” Felix replied, voice deep and groggy from just waking up.
He sat up and stretched his arms over his head, blinking his eyes a bit to adjust to the warm orange sun.
“We’d better get back, its almost time to open.” You urged your husband, reaching for the cutlery to put it in the basket you bought.
“I wanna stay here with you.” Felix whined playfully, scooting over to lean his head down on your shoulder.
“We cant stay here, we have to work.”
“whyyyyyy?”
“Because! If we don’t work, we can’t have yummy food to eat or books to read or a place to sleep when it gets cold.”
“That’s dumb. I want to just lay with you in the grass and listen to you talk and hold onto you and kiss you and not worry about anything.”
“I know, but life isn’t perfect like that, Dear.” You finished packing away all the plates and cutlery before placing a kiss on Felix’s head, “Besides, if we don’t open up our place for people to stay and be happy for a while, who will?”
Felix hummed, lifting his head to look at you before leaning in and kissing you.
This time it was longer
Felix felt so lovesick, much like he always does when it comes to you.
He willed all of his love into the kiss, holding you tenderly as you kissed him back with just as much fervor.
When you finally parted, you stood up and held your hand out for Felix. He gladly accepted it, standing too
You made your way down the cobblestone street, swinging your hands back and forth like children as you spoke about how lovely the weather had been the past few days
As you approached the tavern, you noticed there was a man sat on the steps out front
When you actually recognized him, you almost dropped your basket
Minho.
Upon noticing your arrival, he stood up, and blinked a couple times. He seemed like he was the one who was surprised you and Felix were there
He wore simple looking clothes, a cloak for travel, and no crown; this was probably to avoid crowds forming and too much attention…
Felix swore his heart stopped as he froze in place, locking eyes with his brother
He wanted to go to him; hug him and tell him how much he missed seeing Minho.
He had thought about writing to his older brother, but resisted to urge as he was afraid.
Minho wasn’t just his brother,
He was heir to the throne of Clé
Which meant he had responsibilities.
Ones that probably included bringing Felix back
So instead of going to Minho, greeting him lovingly, Felix held your hand tighter and swallowed heavily
“Yongbok.” The Prince gasped, a breathless chuckle passing through his lips as he approached the two of you, “so the rumours were true…”
Felix said nothing, only putting himself between you and Minho and taking a half step back.
He didn’t know why he had come, but his worst fear was you being taken from him.
Upon your reaction, Minho stopped, eyebrows quirked in confusion. His smile faded
“Why have you come?” Felix asked, expression firm, but he felt like he was made of jelly
You held his hand tightly, swiping your thumb gently across the back of it to help calm your husband down.
“For answers.” Minho replied, fingers fiddling with the hem of his tunic as he watched the two of you, “and to see you I guess…”
The Prince walked back closer to the door, nodding his head towards it, “I arrived a bit earlier and I didn’t get an answer, so I assumed you were out. May we talk more inside?”
“Did you come alone, your highness?” You asked, finally speaking up. You weren’t sure if you should treat Minho with formalities or not, but it felt wrong to address him any other way…
The Prince nodded, “I didn’t want too much attention if I didn’t end up finding you. So..?”
Minho once again gestured to the door and you looked at Felix, who still seemed to be glued to the spot on the walkway
In all honesty, he could barely sense anything besides the sound of the blood rushing in his ears and the feeling of your hand in his.
He felt like his brain was shutting down.
This situation didn’t feel real.
It couldn’t be real
“Dear, what do you want to do?”
It was real.
“What do you think?” Felix finally whispered, turning to you. You gazed into your husbands eyes to find panic residing in them
However, you felt oddly at ease
If Minho was alone, he wasn’t a threat to you
For now, at least
Besides, he already had all the information he needed to ruin your life
He found you.
What more damage could be done by inviting him in?
You nodded, urging Felix to go to his brother
Felix nodded, turning back to Minho, who looked at the two of you expectantly
Felix wordlessly approached the door, holding onto your hand still as he unlocked it, allowing the three of you to enter the tavern
Minho looked around the room; if he had any opinion on your tavern, he didn’t say. He simply stood by the bar, as you closed the door.
Felix was still staring at his brother. It had been so long, he almost didn’t remember what he looked like
Had he always had that hair colour?
“Uhm.. can I get you anything, your highness? Perhaps a tea or something stronger?” You asked tentatively, pulling down a couple of chairs at a table for them to sit at.
“Just tea, thank you.” Minho hummed, sitting at the table you prepared for them. You nodded, taking the basket back to the kitchen to put the dishes in the sink and prepare a pot of tea.
Felix still stood near the bar, feeling anxiety bubble up. The only ease he felt was the sound of you in the kitchen; it was the only thing that grounded him.
“What do you want?” Felix asked, crossing his arms over his chest. He missed Minho, but he couldn’t trust him right now.
“To talk” Minho stated, gesturing to the chair across from him. Felix hesitated, bouncing his leg nervously. Minho slyly grinned, “I don’t bite, Yongbok.”
“Don’t call me that.” Felix mumbled, finally coming over to the table and sitting down across from his brother.
He was still weary, but he knew you were close by if anything happened
“Oh yes, I’ve heard you have a new name. Felix, is it?” Minho asked, frowning as he tapped his fingers on the table and hummed, “Interesting choice. It suits you.”
“What do you want?” Felix repeated, leaning forward in his chair with his expression cold. Minho smiled again, playfully looking at the younger man.
“No need be defensive! I told you. I came for answers.” Minho said. You returned, teapot and a couple of teacups on a tray that you sat down the table. Minho thanked you with a smile, only for you to bow.
You felt unsure if you should sit
Technically, you didn’t work for the royal court anymore, but Minho was still royalty...
You decided to stay standing, placing a gentle hand on your husband’s shoulder to hopefully help ease him.
It did, as you felt Felix’s shoulders relax under your touch.
Minho poured himself some tea, the sweet citrus aroma filling the air; He quietly stirred in a spoon of sugar before tapping it against the rim of the teacup.
“First and foremost, It is nice to see you.” Minho hummed, blowing on his drink twice before taking a tentative sip.
Felix was quiet for only a moment before mumbling out “It’s nice to see you too.”
He meant it.
As much as he felt defensive and out of his element, it was nice to see his brother after all this time.
Minho grinned, looking down to his lap at the confession. He chewed his bottom lip nervously before taking another sip of tea
“You know, you really stirred up a lot of trouble back home.” Minho chuckled, lacing his fingers together and setting his hands on the table, “Do you know what mother has been telling people?”
Felix was quiet; he hadn’t heard anything from Clé since you left.
“That I kidnapped Felix.” You answered for him, causing Felix to look over at you. Your expression was unreadable, but you stared at Minho with some sort of resolve
The Prince looked to you, raising his eyebrows and scoffing.
“Exactly that. “The Trusted Courtier took weapons from the armory and forced The Helpless Prince Yongbok to leave with them, never to be seen again.”” Minho huffed in a sarcastic tone, crossing his arms over his chest, “Can you believe it? How absurd.”
“You don’t believe it?” You asked, eyebrows furrowed and lips drawn into an amused pout; Your expression could be described as cat-like; cautious, yet curious.
“How could I when I found this?” Minho laughed, pulling a folded parchment from out of his pants pocket and placing it on the table.
Felix picked it up and opened it, revealing his own handwriting.
He immediately closed it when he realized what it was, causing his brother to let out a laugh from deep in his chest.
“What is it Felix?” You asked, leaning over to look at your husband’s now reddening face.
“I noticed you took all of your journals and letters with you.” Minho hummed, before pointing at the parchment, “But it seems you must have forgotten one.”
“I- Well...” Felix stammered, looking between you and Minho. Sighing in defeat, he handed you the parchment and let you read it.
Your eyes lit up to see it was a letter
addressed to you.
from Felix.
“Dear (Y/N), I’m not sure I’ll ever be allowed to say this out loud, so I’m writing this letter. You’ll probably never see it; in fact, I intend to never give this to you, but I need to say this or else I’ll probably combust. I am in love with you (I can’t believe I just wrote that...). You’re so smart and so kind. I feel warm when I am around you. You are the only person I feel like truly understands me and I hope that you enjoy spending time with me like I enjoy spending time with you. The truth is, you make my days bearable. You are like the sun. The stars in the night sky. I had the realization I have been struck by Cupid’s arrow because I think about you at all hours. You are my muse; I wonder which flowers you like best while I tend to all of them in the garden. I take my dance lessons and I imagine you are my dance partner. When I lay in bed at night, I think about how I must fall asleep quickly in order to see you again. But what I think about most is if you feel this way about me too? I hope so. - Felix”
Minho watched you read the letter, eyes softening as your expression grew ever so brighter as your eyes flicked down the page.
Felix watched you too, clearly embarrassed by his younger self; but all that dissipated as he saw how bright you were.
“I don’t think someone would write something like that about their kidnapper.” Minho hummed, taking another sip of tea as you finished the letter. You folded it up and held onto to it for a moment, feeling your heart flutter at the words.
Of course, you knew Felix loved you more than anything. But it was special seeing how much he loved you and for how long he’s loved you.
You gazed lovingly at Felix, placing a quick kiss to his cheek. He smiled up at you, grabbing onto your hand that laid at his shoulder.
“So.” Minho cleared his throat, “Seeing as I found that, I knew that something else was going on. And I needed to find out for myself. So I followed the only lead I could find.”
“Rumors of a tavern in Miroh?” Felix deduced, to which his brother nodded, leaning back in his chair. He looked around the room before smiling softly.
“and it looks like the rumors were true.” Minho said looking between you and Felix.
A silence washed over you all for a moment. It seemed Minho was pretty understanding of what your relationship with Felix was
however, that didn’t necessarily mean he approved.
“So, what does it mean now that you know the truth?” Felix asked bluntly. Minho stared at him for a moment before leaning forward
“Are you happy?” Minho asked, tone serious as he laced his fingers together again and placed them on the table.
“More than I’ve ever been.” Felix said honestly, staring down his brother. Minho shook his head before letting out a sigh. His demeanor shifted a bit as you and Felix watched him seemingly have an internal struggle raging in his head. After a moment of silence, he pursed his lips and tapped his fingers on the table nonchalantly as he seemingly had made a decision.
“The truth is, I told myself if it really was you, I’d bring you home.” The Prince said simply. He looked down at the table, brushing a hand through his hair, “I thought you had made a rash and irresponsible decision and I was going to bring you back to where you belong. Of course, I’d leave (Y/N) alone. If I brought them back, Father would surely have their head...”
Felix’s grip on your hand tightened, his stomach dropping at his brother’s words.
Minho’s expression softened as he looked at the two of you, taking one last sip from his teacup.
“However, I see now this is where you belong.” Minho said with a nod. He gestured around the room, playful expression finding it way onto his face, “You have made quite a beautiful home here and you seem to be happier with (Y/N) than I’ve ever seen you be at the castle. It would be wrong of me to take that away, I think.”
“Minho...” Felix sighed with relief, thankfulness written all over his face, “I- I don’t know what to say.”
“Thank you, your highness.” You said, bowing at the prince. Minho shook his head and waved his hand, slight pout on his lips.
“There is no need for you to do that, (Y/N). You’re my brother's wife now, so consider the formalities negated.” He said, chuckling to himself, “Besides, I’m not the heir to the throne right now. I’m just a man who came to visit.”
“You should stay for the night.’ Felix exclaimed, smiling at his brother for the first time since he arrived, “The tavern is very lively in the evenings. And I’d love to talk to you more.”
“I can’t stay, unfortunately.” Minho said with a frown, “I’m supposed to be at an alliance coalition with some of the western kingdoms early tomorrow morning, but I snuck away just to see you.”
“One more cup of tea couldn’t hurt?” You suggested, raising an eyebrow at the prince and jabbing a thumb in the direction of the kitchen, “Not to mention, Felix baked a lovely batch of blueberry muffins this morning, and it would be a shame for you not to try one.”
“My brother’s a baker?” Minho teased, turning to Felix and cracking a grin, “No way he would be capable of something like that. I simply must try it out for myself!”
“I’ll go put the kettle back on, and give you two some time to talk alone.” You hummed, placing a quick kiss on Felix’s lips and retreated back into the kitchen; you did take the love letter with you to re-read though
Felix giggled, his body feeling like it was on cloud nine.
He swore, he never felt so happy
maybe it was because he was relieved that his life wasn’t over,
but it was also nice to see Minho again.
The two of them talked as they used to, comfortably and casually.
Felix wouldn’t have the chance to speak with Minho often when he lived at the castle; his brother was much more busy and with conflicting duties and schedules, they never really had the time.
But whenever they did, it was never uncomfortable or awkward.
You didn’t want to intrude on their time alone, so after the tea was done and ready, you brought it to them before scurrying back to the kitchen to make yourself busy preparing for the dinner tonight
Felix asked about Karina and how Clé was doing; Apparently they were well, and Minho seemed to truly love the future queen. Felix also learned that apparent Winter had been married last autumn and was doing well too (Felix felt very relieved to hear this)
Clé was in a minor food shortage, but Minho was hoping to supplement that with an trade alliance with the western island of Halazia, who needed lumber for ships.
Felix then told Minho of the tavern and what it was like trying to afford to get it up and running. He spoke of the evening activities and how he got to do what he loved all the time.
And of course, Felix spoke of you; he told his brother how you supported him always, how you would do anything to make him happy, and how much he adored you as a person. He talked about all of his favourite activities to do with you and how it felt like a dream come true to get to fall asleep next to you everyday.
They were so caught up in conversation, they were both taken by surprise when someone walked in the door
“Wow, you guys have been slacking off today! The chairs aren’t even taken off the bar yet.” Hyunjin huffed out, smile on his face as he hung up his jacket. When he realized Felix was with another man, he flinched and grew flustered.
“Oh, forgive me! I didn’t realize you had a visitor.” Hyunjin apologized with a bow, “Sorry for intruding.”
“Don’t worry about it, Jinnie!” Felix chuckled, turning to Minho, “This is Hyunjin, our bar-hand.”
Hyunjin bowed again, waving at Minho before disappearing into the back to “take an inventory check”
“I guess that would be my cue to leave.” Minho hummed, standing from his chair. He hesitated to go, wanting to spend more time with Felix...
but Minho knew his responsibilities far outweighed his desire.
Felix lunged at him, engulfing his brother in a tight hug, which was reciprocated warmly.
“I’m glad to see you’re doing well here.” Minho said, releasing Felix from his grip, “I’ll be sure to write to you occasionally. And if I can, I’d love to visit you once again.”
“You better! I’ll miss you too much if you don’t” Felix grinned, leading Minho to the door, “Goodbye and safe travels.”
Minho hesitated once more at the door before hugging Felix again. With that final hug, he said goodbye, with Felix watching him walk away until he was out of sight
Felix felt his heart ache at the sight, but knew that he would at least be able to see Minho again someday
which was much more joyous than never hearing from him at all.
“Uhm... Lix?” Hyunjin asked, coming out from the back and leaning on the bar. He had a slight frown on his face and a pout on his lips.
Oh yes, Felix almost forgot he would have to try and explain the sudden visitor, which was very out of the ordinary of him to have.
“Yes?”
“I don’t mean to pry, but who was that?”
“That was my brother.” Felix mumbled, thinking up an excuse. He chewed his bottom lip before gazing up at Hyunjin, “He’s from a far away kingdom, so he can’t visit often.”
Hyunjin’s frown deepened, but he simply nodded, flashing a fake smile.
“Well, I’m glad your brother could visit.” He hummed, before starting to prepare the bar for tonight.
Did Hyunjin really have no further questions for Felix? It felt odd considering that the situation was strange and Felix gave a kind of wishy-washy, short answer.
technically he didn’t lie to Hyunjin,
Minho was from a kingdom far from here.
He just didn’t tell him Minho was soon to be the king of said kingdom
Felix doubted that Hyunjin didn’t have anymore suspicions about his visitor; He had always been bright and attentive, being able to read pretty much anyone. Hyunjin most likely knew something was fishy but simply decided to not say anything about it.
that is, until the bar had closed down for the night and the bar-keep beckoned both you and your husband to the back storage room to discuss something.
“So, what is this all about?” You asked, oblivious to the situation at hand
“I finally pieced it all together.” Hyunjin stated simply, expression unreadable
you furrowed your brow in confusion, looking over to Felix who looked as though he had seen a ghost.
of course he figured it out.
Felix knew he would
But what did that mean for all you’d have built?
so many new people being let in on your little secret made him sick. Putting trust that his and your entire life wouldn’t be ruined in another person’s hands makes him anxious beyond belief.
“Pardon? I’m not sure what you are referring to, Jin?” You confessed truthfully; you weren’t sure what the bar-keep was speaking of, but you could feel your nerves grow weak as you were sure to be able to guess what this could be about.
“I was wondering why we had the honor of a visit from Prince of Clé,” Hyunjin began, eyes darting between you and Felix as he spoke, “I couldn’t remember where I recognized him from at first, but then I remembered seeing his face in the paper after his wedding. And Felix informed me that it was his brother coming to visit, which cleared all my suspicions up.”
“I... I don’t know what to say...” Felix spoke shakily, body trembling.
god he felt so stupid!
of course people would know what the Clé prince -the future king of a neighboring kingdom- would look like.
why did he reveal it was his family...
“The bounty hunters, not speaking of the past, even that Clé longbow you keep behind the bar...” Hyunjin hummed, crossing his arms over his chest with a smirk, “not to mention you bear a striking resemblance to a particular missing prince?”
You were silent, standing like a statue as you assessed what to do.
truthfully, you were even less surprised than Felix that Hyunjin had figured it out; intuition and a few clues you supposed.
“Am I correct?” Hyunjin tilted his head slightly; his gaze was playful as his lips were drawn into a thin line.
Felix looked to you, reaching out his hand to lace his fingers with yours before turning back to Hyunjin with a curt nod.
there was no sense to lie to the man anymore.
Hyunjin bit his bottom lip, staring at the floor. The room was silent and the air was thick with tension
Until Hyunjin let out a breathless chuckle shaking his head. A grin found its way onto his face as you and Felix held your breath
“Honestly, I’m just more upset you guys didn’t tell me sooner” the bar-keep hummed, looking between you two, “how long have I worked here by now? And you still don’t trust me?”
“Sorry Jin,” You frowned, feeling a slight bit embarrassed at him scolding you, “But I’m sure you can understand why we want to keep our past a secret”
“No shit, hey?” Hyunjin laughed, which sounded like a symphony to Felix
He wasn’t going to turn you both in
Honestly, now that he really thought about it, it wouldn’t be in Hyunjin’s character to betray you both like that, so why was Felix even worried in the first place?
Well, plenty of reasons, considering what the secret was.
But it was Hyunjin.
And Felix liked him.
He trusted him.
And you did too.
“Hyunjin, we should have told you the moment we hired you. We are really sorry.” Felix confessed, reaching his hand out to shake the other man’s. For some reason, Felix did feel genuinely guilty for hiding his past from Hyunjin…
It must have shown on his face because Hyunjin simply looked at before swatting it away, pulling your husband into a hug
“Hey, I get it.” He spoke softly, pulling away to wrap his arms around you tenderly, “both of you must have gone through hell. I don’t blame you for wanting to move forward and never look back.”
“Maybe we can, just once more.” You suggested, looking between the two men with a knowing smirk, “I think you deserve a bit more detail onto how we got here, no?”
“Should I put the tea on?” Felix asked, smiling at you and then at Hyunjin fondly.
He couldn’t agree with you more; if he’s going to know, Hyunjin should get the whole story. The truth.
“I’d love to hear all about it.” Hyunjin exclaimed enthusiastically, walking out to the bar and pulling down a couple of the stools, “I’m sure it’s a hell of a story…”
And you couldn’t help but agree; your life with Felix was quite the story…
One that now had more interesting characters in it.
And one that you couldn’t wait to see how it goes next, with the dawn of new connections, but the same love you had and always will have for Felix
——————————————
A/N: OKAYYY FINALLY DONE!! Just over a year this baby has been in the making, but posting my 3racha fic in this universe had me inspired to finally finish it. I know this part has a little less focus on you and Lix, but I get as though other characters and relations are also interesting. I hope you enjoyed it :33
#kpop#stray kids#skz#fluff#angst#Felix#Lee felix#lee felix fantasy au#lee felix fluff#lee felix x reader#felix skz fantasy au#skz fantasy au#bang chan#Lee Minho#Seo Changbin#Hwang Hyunjin#Han Jisung#Kim Seungmin#Yang Jeongin
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Day Two - Butterflies with Marcus Pike and Female Reader
Word Count: 648
Warnings: one curse and Marcus Pike in plaid
Notes: I remember painting a butterfly in an art class years ago (like 10+ maybe). It was fun and then the professor went into the symbolism behind them in art, which was pretty cool Reminded me of that - hope and transformations which can happen in therapy or outside of it.
Main Masterlist / March Spring Prompts 2024 / Writing Challenges
It was an exercise in capturing beauty. That’s what the therapist told you at least. You’ve never excelled at drawing, painting or any type of art that has to do with manipulating materials. Give you a pen, piece of paper and you’ll make some magic happen on a page, but not with watercolors. Your therapist who you’ve been seeing for the last few months encouraged you to try something new – out of your comfort zone, but not too crazy. They asked you to pick something and bring in what you had created, no matter what appearance it took on. Your art isn’t great, but you and your therapist talk about the colors, what it means to you to have made it. You told them that you were happy to have physically made something and didn’t expect to use such bright colors with the reds, oranges and yellows. Usually, you’re more in the cool color family. It feels good and you have a pep in your step once you leave the office. So much of a pep that you nearly drop your artwork in the hallway while you’re on your way out.
A tall man in a plaid shirt with a white t-shirt underneath and jeans catches it. You might have started at him a bit too hard to have noted what he was wearing head to toe. He asks if you’re alright and smiles, why did he do that? His mere presence is already making your brain malfunction.
“Christ on a fucking cracker…” It’s said loud enough that you see him blink. It would be wonderful if you could fade away right now. “I-I am so…it was a rough appointment.” A lie would work right now. Blame it on therapy, you’re in a great mood you just need a logical reason for staring and cursing at this very handsome nice man.
“Ah, I’m sorry you’re having a rough day. Did you do the art exercise too? Oh wait..” His smile went to a frown, “you don’t have to answer that. Your day is bad enough without reliving it right?” He scratches his arm, he might be nervous too, though he likely thinks you’re an unhinged woman. If he does, what’s to lose now?
“I did. I don’t mind sharing. It was my favorite part. It’s always the debriefing and deconstruction that takes the fun out of things.” Turning your piece around, you proudly showed it off. Two orange butterflies are on a blade of grass near a daisy (the only flower you can draw and still tell what it is). The upper one had more red in it and the lower one had more yellow. It’s simple, but the first thing you’ve painted since high school. He appeared to be giving it careful consideration and it made you giggle. It’s not like a museum piece or even talent at a high school or college art show. It’s from your one-time painting class. He clapped his hands and you jumped; it was louder than you expected.
“Sorry about that. It’s beautiful. Do you know why the therapists keep asking us to paint butterflies?” It appeared he may have an answer that you therapist didn’t cover, and even if he didn’t, you’re listening because he called your art beautiful. No matter if he’s just being nice or not, it was sweet. You shook your head.
“My therapist said it was a good exercise for trying new things. I haven’t really been too open to doing so.”
He thinks for a moment. You were expecting the answer right away. Maybe he’s building tension. “My name’s Marcus. Maybe we should discuss it over some lunch? It might take a little while. Do you have any plans?” None that can’t be done another day.
“No, where were you thinking of eating lunch?” Looks like the butterfly painting is leading to new experiences indeed.
#pedro pascal characters#fanfiction#pedro pascal#pedro pascal fanfiction#Marcus pike#marcus pike x reader#Marcus Pike x you#marcus pike fanfiction#day two#March Spring Prompts#A Nerdie fic#butterflies
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Weyler fluff idea: Wednesday doesn’t know how to show Tyler that she wants to hold hands, be kissed etc. And it’s not that Tyler doesn’t want to do that but it’s because he thinks Wednesday doesn’t like it that much but deep down she wants it (he respects her borders)
I had a lot of fun with this one.
It was a beautiful day, cloudy and gray with bits of rain here and there. The rain wasn’t so potent that it soaked clothes and hair, it was a perfect, infrequent sprinkle— Wednesday’s favorite type of weather.
She and Tyler sat shoulder-to-shoulder beneath a maple tree in the Jericho Cemetery. It had become one of their favorite places to go ever since he brought her to see his mother’s grave. Wednesday loved cemeteries her entire life— especially the family cemetery back home. They were creepy, quiet, and full of history and ghosts. She could always clear her mind among the headstones, new and old, and the smell of mown grass. And she found that dead people made great company.
But right now, her mind was far from clear. It was ruminating over something silly, something she could hardly admit. It clouded her usually confident and logical brain and left her feeling horrendously frail.
She couldn’t figure out how to hold Tyler’s hand— or really do anything else besides kiss him. It should be easy to do such a thing, all she has to do is grab his hand with hers and the rest should flow from there. But when? How? Can it be too abrupt? What if she takes his hand too roughly? Would it be weird? She didn’t usually care about people’s feelings like she did his— the hold this boy had on her was, at times, incredibly frustrating.
She still had no idea how she so abruptly kissed him that one time at the Weathervane, it was like some sort of love demon possessed her. Ever since then, when they kissed they leaned in simultaneously. And as strange as it was they’d kissed many times, usually when saying goodbye— but never held hands. Tyler respected her boundaries a little too much for her liking. It was sweet, his gentleness was endearing, but she wished he’d just grab her hand and make it easy, she knew he wanted to.
One time when they were driving in his car, their hands touched. Tyler had his right arm resting on the middle console when Wednesday dropped her pen on the floor of the passenger seat. When she leaned down to grab it she held onto the console for support, placing her hand near his. After leaning back in her seat, she noticed the close proximity of their pinky fingers, her heart jumped. She left her hand there in hopes he’d take the next step, her heart missed another beat when his own hand gravitated towards hers, hovering over it for a split-second— but then he stopped, quickly placing it on the wheel instead. It was terrible, bad terrible.
Tyler’s voice yanked her from her thoughts, “Are you good? You’re real quiet.”
“Yes, I am fine. I’m just thinking.”
“About?”
What was she supposed to say? “About holding your hand, I’d like to hold your hand.”?? Well, that’s exactly what she’d say, but she couldn’t— it was like her mouth was a venus fly trap, and the words were but a helpless arachnid struggling to escape its marginal spikes.
Tyler furrowed his brows while she wordlessly stared at him.
“About… Just about— My homework assignment. I must finish it later.”
“You told me you didn’t have any homework?”
God damnit, Tyler.
He studied her with his eyes, tilting his head to the side, “You can tell me anything, you know.”
She did know that, although telling him things was something she greatly struggled with. She wasn’t very good at talking about her feelings, in fact she was absolutely horrible at it. She was good at many difficult things— cello, fencing, lock-picking, martial arts, and archery to name a few— but she wasn’t good at being social. She couldn’t even tell her own boyfriend she wanted to hold his hand. Pathetic.
“I’ve been thinking… That I want… I’d like,” her face felt hot.
He seemed amused by how flustered she was, a smile was creeping on his lips. She looked down at his hands; large, warm, and resting in his lap. She wanted to grab one— No, she was going to. There was no going back, she’d been staring at them for far too long as Tyler grew increasingly confused.
Impulsively, she grabbed his wrist, pulling his arm from his lap, and put her palm under his. Just as she hypothesized, the rest of it flowed from there. He chuckled and laced his big, warm fingers through her smaller, colder ones. It felt just as she’d imagined it, but better, his hand enveloped hers like a warm blanket— or, even better, a toasty straight jacket.
He gently stroked the back of her hand with his thumb, and she gave into her urge to explore the skin of his hand. With her free fingers, she traced his smooth knuckles and a scar on his dorsal side from the fight with Enid months before. His hands were soft but sturdy, there was a mole on the knuckle of his thumb and another on his ring finger, his nails were freshly trimmed.
“So, this was what you were thinking about?” He smiled cheekily.
The corners of her lips turned upward a little, “Yes.”
“I would have done this already if I thought you’d like it.”
“You didn’t think I would?”
“No, I’ve been under the impression that you don’t like being touched.”
“I like being touched by you.”
He grinned, “Noted.”
Wednesday leaned further into Tyler, pressing their hips and shoulders firmly together, and rested her head on him. He placed his head atop of hers and gave her hand a squeeze. Soon, the sky darkened as evening approached, so they drove back to Nevermore.
Before departing to their respective dorms, Wednesday kissed Tyler. For the first time ever, he wrapped his arms around her, pulling her closer. She didn’t understand how kissing felt so drastically better with something as seemingly miniscule as his arms around her back, but it did. The kiss felt much more intimate with their bodies pressed together— she wondered if she closed her eyes long enough if she’d be able to tell where her body ended and his started.
“Keep doing that when we kiss.” She asked when they pulled apart.
“I will.”
Wednesday entered her dorm feeling like a weight was lifted off of her chest. Holding hands was easier than she thought and she felt foolish for being so bent up over it. Her anxiety subsided, she was pleased to find that initiating touch wasn’t so bad at all. Tyler wanted it just as badly as she did.
And, of course, Enid immediately noticed something was different about Wednesday.
“You’re nearly smiling. What happened?” She blurted out.
She couldn’t hide anything from that girl.
#wyler#weyler#wyler fic#wyler prompts#tysday#fluff#fluffy fic#wednesday addams#netflix wednesday#wednesday 2022#wednesday series#fanfic#fanfic writer#tyler galpin#tyler galpin fic#proud of this#wednesday x tyler
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❕❔ [ESTABLISHING SHOT] RECOVERED TRANSCRIPT II
[IT SOUNDS LIKE ███ IS WALKING AROUND OUTSIDE. THEY ADJUST THE CAMERA AND BLANCE IT AGAINST SOMETHING BEFORE SITTING DOWN IN PRESUMABLY GRASS. THEY BRING FOWARD A LARGE BAG AS THEY CLEAR THEIR THROAT.]
So. Uhhh, welcome back to my… Investigation? I don’t know. It started out with just keeping an eye out to see if DVD pops up again but then someone handed me another tape? I dont know why people keep handing me tapes? Do i look like the kind of person to collect tapes or something?
[███ CHUCKLES A LITTLE BIT AS THEY REMOVE WHAT IS PRESUMABLY A JACKET FROM THEIR BODY.]
Anyways. I was walking around in uptown and someone stopped me on the subway. They looked panicked as they handed me a black box, which is what i have here. They told me to destroy it at all costs. But: the funny thing is that-
[THEY OPEN UP A BAG AND BRING OUT TWO ITEMS, ONE LIGHTER THAN THE OTHER BUT THEY SEEMED TO BE THE SAME THING. ███ OPENS THE BOX AND SHOWS IT TO THE CAMERA.]
The box had another fucking tape in it! But this one looks a little bit different. Not only does this one REEKS of the smell of rotting fish. Also it’s slightly sticky and not going to lie i reallywishibroughtsomekindofglovesbut ITS FINEEEEE. Anyways: the person told me to destroy this tape which is strange because when my neighbor handed me the other tape. They wanted me to protect it?
[THEY HOLD UP THE TAPES TO THEMSELVES. ALMOST AS IF IN DEEP THOUGHT BEFORE THEY WHISPER]
What secrets do you hold? Anywho. I asked why and all they told me was a name. They just said ████. So i did a little bit of research but unless if you are rich and famous, i dont think you’re going to be getting many answers. So i asked around town but everyone didn’t seem to know who i was talking about. And I can’t find the person on the subway again no matter how long i wait. And trust me, I’ve been waiting. So i looked in the next logical place for when looking for a missing person and the internet doesn’t have all the answers.
[THEY PICK UP THE CAMERA AND STAND UP.]
That’s right. Im at the fucking LostField graveyard. It’s smells haunted here. It might be because im almost standing on top of someone’s grave right now. But: an investigator will do anything to go their answers. Right now: my VHS player hasn’t arrived yet but i do have something that i bought from GoodWill.
[THEY BRING A LONG, THIN BOX OUT OF THE BAG AND PLACES IT NEAR THE GRAVE.]
I bought a fucking Ouija board for this.
[THEY SET UP THE OUIJA BOARD ON TOP OF THE BURIAL SITE. A COUPLE OF PLATIC FLOWERS RUSTLE AS THEY TOOK OUT A SHEET OF PAPER. THE PAPER CRUMBLES A BIT AS THEY READ IT, HUMMING A LIGHT TUNE AS THEY SO DO.]
Why the fuck does this have so many mentions about Target? Well. I dont have any candles on me right now. All i have is my phone so I’ll turn the flash on what… and it said not to use it in a graveyard but we’re a bit too far in to back out now. Besides: would this let the spirit get to me easier?
[THEY CLICK ON THEIR PHONE AND ADJUSTS THE CAMERA AGAIN. THEY GROAN AS THEY READ MORE INSTRUCTIONS]
What do you mean I need to have someone else with me? WHY ARE SPIRITS SO FINIKY???
[THEY GRAB THEIR PHONE AND DIAL A NUMBER]
Hey.. Are you in the area? Yes i went through with it. Dont.. dont yell at me like that! Do it in person at least. Listen: can you just come here? Thanks. Bye.
[THEY END THE CALL AND GO BACK TO READING AND SETTING UP. EVENTUALLY: SOMEONE WALKS IN]
███.. You know I meant asking spirits as a joke, right?
Just help me do this thing alright? Then I’ll never bother you again.
[THE NEW PERSON SNICKERS UNDER HIS BREATH.]
Yeah sure..
[NO AUDIO WAS ABLE TO BE DECODED AS THEY GET READY. ███ TELLS THE NEWCOMER TO DO A PRAYER WITH THEM. ███ IS THE MEDIAN TO PASS ON THE QUESTIONS AND SIMPLY TELLS THE NEWCOMER TO FOLLOW THEIR LEAD.]
████… Are you there?
[SILENCE… UNTIL ███ GASPS]
What is your name? B-O-X-A-N-O-N? What? I thought we were talking to ████? N-O-L-O-N-G-E-R? Ok then.. I’ll just call you Box. Where did you work at? M-A-L-L. Why are you here now?
T-A-P-E-S. What? What do you mean by “tapes?”
S-H-O-W-F-A-L-L.
[███ TAKES A SHARP BREATH AS THE NEWCOMER BEGS THEM TO BACK OUT]
Box, how did you die?
[THE NEWCOMER AND ███ YELP AS THE GRAVE THEYRE NEXT TO STARTS TO CRACK. A SMALL PIECE OF ROCK FELL ONTO THE PHOTO OF “BOX.” SHATTERING THE GLASS SPECIFICALLY AROUND THEIR HEAD. THE NEWCOMER STARTS TO YELL AND QUICKLY GRABS THE TWO TAPES AND BOOKS IT.]
BOX! WE’RE CUTTING THIS CONVERSATION SHORT. GOODBYE!
[███ QUICKLY FLIPS OVER THE PLANCHET AND GRABS THE CAMERA AND STARTS RUNNING. THE CAMERA STARTS BEEPING WITH LOW BATTERY PERCENTAGE]
OK! That’s THE LAST TIME IM EVER DOING THAT? WHAT THE FUCK DOES BOX MEAN ABOUT “THE VOID?” THIS IS NOT NORMAL I NEED TO INVESTIGATE. WHY DONT PEOPLE KNOW WHY THEYRE GONE? WHAT HAPPENE-
[SIGNAL LOST.]
@deathrouteanon
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TW: Sexualization of (fictional) minors discussion/CSA mentions
Mod: Batch post 2 to help people avoid the topic if needed.
1. Idc, people who don’t dress and photograph YOSDs like children are creepy af. If you’re dressing your YOSD in lingerie that’s weird as hell and gross.
~Anonymous
2. "child sex sells" what the fuck is wrong with you? shut the fuck up. touch grass. see light. no the hell it does not. can you be fucking normal for five goddamn minutes? god just delete tumblr and get the fuck away from this and all other hobbies you are the worst sort of human being and i hope you get the help you desperately need because you are seeing child abuse in everything and that, i promise you, is a freakass problem to have. why are you like this???
~Anonymous
3. did NOT want to read the vomitous take of "ch*ld s*x sells" on the doll blog today!!!
~Anonymous
4. fandoms full of """child abuse"""
hi mod it's me again, i'm sorry in advance but this fucking topic makes me actually furious and as long as the most sheltered infants on earth continue to submit brain-dead takes on this subject, i'm going to keep showing up in your dms. CW for discussion of actual abuse, hard subjects in general, etc.
(i would put the read more here) [Mod: I hope you don't mind this format instead Anon, this confession deserves its own post but I want to shield readers from the topic if possible with the batchposting 💜]
ok but that's just it, as a fucking csa survivor, most of the "fandoms full of CSA" literally! have none of that! whatsoever! in any capacity! you shitty godforsaken little heathens call sfw romance between two fictional teenagers in a tv show incest-coded, you call grown ass-adults in animated works "child-coded" and justify that as the same as goddamn ABUSE OF REAL LIFE HUMAN BEINGS, and you doxx creators and send them death threats and clog up report lines for real life actual human victims about your fictional bullshit. you are the worst and i want you and anyone who reads this and feels offended by this description to know that you are helping no one and annoying everyone.
do you know what real victims are victimized by? not fiction. not any fiction. not inanimate objects! literally write a story about fictional children being victimized for the plot, and it will not hurt me. if it hurts you, fair! stop reading it. go outside. your Personal Discomfort is not you being abused. learn the fucking difference perhaps! it will not make me... do you have any idea how hard it is to talk about this without getting so extremely goddamn personal? do you have any idea how much it sucks to have to have this discussion over and over and over? do you realize that roughly 10 years ago everyone with a braincell agreed on this point and it's only the last decade that people have been so radicalized to think that wrongthink is real? no, of course not, because most of the people who believe that fiction and reality are 1:1 in how one affects the other have no practical experience with any of the subjects upon which they have the audacity to speak.
listen. i am not going to go into my upbringing. i am not going to tell you what it was like to be raised in a household like mine where actual abuse was genuinely normalized. all i will say is that i was raised in a culture where this sort of abuse was normal and certain types of relationships between adults and minors were considered... sanctioned by the powers that be. are you picking up what i'm laying down? do not talk to me about your good intentions. the fucking argument that fictional content, drawings and toys and all that other inconsequential shit, that it's tantamount to a crime? buddy. bestie! amigo! compadre! that's the same logic that was used to make sure my upbringing was as sheltered and controlled as possible so that the "corrupting influences" of the outside world didn't give us the "wrong ideas". like i truly don't know how you did it but you've reinvented the toxic mindset i grew up hearing! and you are completely blind to it. boggles my fucking brain.
i just want to shake the people who say this shit with a straight face. "wow so violent op maybe you're the toxic one" yeah boy i'm toxic i've been in therapy for most of my life and will continue to be until i am dead. the fucking DRAWING CARTOON PORN IS INDOCTRINATING MINORS WRITING StORIES WHERE BAD THINGS HAPPEN IS THE SAME AS HARMING A REAL HUMAN crowd are just the same religious wrongthink crowd with a more recent birth-year and a rainbow hat. "anyone can say anything online i don't believe you" cool i don't give a shit. how do you want me to prove it, doxxing myself? you wanna see the fucking recordings anon? think before you speak. first time for everything.
i like this hobby. i enjoy my dumb little dolls and their stupid little faces, i enjoy the peace in changing their style and redoing their faceups, i enjoy being able to represent a diversity of appearances, identities, to make everyone queer and slutty because i'm making up for the lost time in my life where that was not on the table for me. i do Not fucking relish seeing the braindead anti arguments creeping into this hobby and shitting up another thing that myself and other survivors would like to enjoy in peace and quiet.
so let me tell you, from the bottom of my heart, even though no one who needs to hear it will bother to listen to the words of a survivor because it goes against your superiority complex against those nasty fiction enjoyers:
shut the fuck up.
sincerely, god, everyone, and especially survivors of CSA and other abuse against minors.
~Anonymous
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Find the word tag game
Thanks @hippiewrites for the tag! I've missed this game.
Rules: find the words I give you in your WIPs then tag some people with your own words!
My words: water, fire, ground, sky
Your words: star, moon, sun, space
Tagging @gracehosborn @theelfauthor @eccaiia @reneesbooks @ceph-the-ghost-writer @buffythevampirelover @thepeculiarbird @jezifster @mjjune @ohnomybreadsticks @sarahlizziewrites @sarandipitywrites and anyone else :)
See below the cut to read about Lexi paying way too much attention to people (just as the plot gets started), a mini argument about how to tell a bad joke, a bunch of brothers shocking each other with electricity, and the first scene of Carmen as a child (sad, cute...idk you decide what it is)
Water - from The Secret Portal Part One (Lexi POV)
“Do you know what Gwen, Rose, and Noelle’s last periods are?” Ash asked.
“Gwen has science, Rose: art, and Noelle has… math,” I answered.
“How do you know these things?” Ash asked as she rolled the sleeves up of her red flannel. “Like, you have everyone’s schedule memorized!”
“Pfft, no I don’t.” I waved hello to Julian Austin as he ran by.
“Really? What’s Julian’s fourth period?” Ash asked.
I pushed open the door with my shoulder, pausing briefly to think. “Gym.”
“See?” Ash pointed out.
“What can I say? I’m observant,” I said as the exhaust from the buses caused my eyes to water. “Ugh, I’ve never been picked up over here before. Why can’t your stepmom pick us up in the parent pick-up?”
“I dunno, Lexi, I’m just following orders.”
“It seems weird,” I said looking at her as I turned around the corner of the school. “Like—ah!” My boot got caught on the grass, causing my feet to slip. I tumbled onto the ground and dropped my violin, the “oof!” that followed indicating Ash tripped over the sturdy case.
Fire - from The Secret Portal Part Two (Akash POV)
“Hey, guys.” Parker flicked his hand, summoning his remaining breakfast to his newly-picked table on light current of air. “What’s up?”
“Me,” I said, causing Robbie to snicker. “Are we still on for practice today?”
“Uh, yeah of course,” said Parker as Wade joined our table. “Your joke sucked. You’re sitting down. We’ll have to work on that.”
“Is part of being an air-molecule-manipulating person good humor?”
“I thought it was until you came.”
“Give him a break, Parker.”
“He made a bad joke, Wade! What am I supposed to say.”
I ate my bowl-innards so I didn’t have to reply. Yeah, it was a bad joke, but it was the anti-humor that made it funny!
“The fact that it was bad made it good,” Robbie defended. I smiled smugly at Parker through my cereal-filled mouth. Thanks, Robbie.
“Humor is a subjective but meticulous craft,” said Parker. “The joke needs to make sense to be funny, and considering that you are not up, it doesn’t make sense.”
“But I’m a flyer,” I protested. “That’s the logic.”
“You said it when you were down!” Parker protested. “That would be like Jazlyn saying, ‘I’m so hot!’ when she’s not on fire!”
“I’m gay, but Jazlyn’s objectively hot,” said Wade.
“Totally not the point,” said Parker.
“You’re taking this too seriously.”
Parker laughed, throwing his head back. “Serious? Me?! That’s a first. Could you tell that to Mrs. Holladay? Besides, I’m just helping the kid out.”
“You’re, like, two years older than me,” I pointed out.
“Regardless, I’m helping you out. Watch, I’ll make your joke work.” In a fast yet graceful move, Parker thrust his hands out and up in a swooshing movement, causing a gust of wind to suddenly lift me out of my seat and a handful of yards in the air.
Ground - from School of the Legends, Year One
Tierney was jolted awake that morning in two ways.
The first jolt was from Jarred rapidly knocking on the door to his room. The second was a literal jolt of static shock from the friction his body caused from sliding against both the fitted sheet beneath him, as well as the duvet covering him, when he jumped from the first jolt. He yelped at both, causing Jarred to laugh from outside the door. Tierney scrambled out of bed and practically ran to the door--bare feet sliding on the hardwood floors--threw the door open, and jabbed his finger into Jarred’s side, causing Jarred to let out a rather embarrassing “eep!” as the static shock pierced through his cotton clothes, and he jumped back, almost falling over when his feet slipped on the carpet beneath him. Now it was Tierney’s turn to laugh.
Jarred regained his balance and pointed a finger at Tierney as a mock threat. “You’re dead.”
“Not if I kill you first!” Tierney said, jumping out at Jarred, who bolted down the hall. Tierney followed his brother with his hand outstretched, making extra sure to drag his feet on the carpet to keep up the static, even if it slowed his pace. Jarred turned a corner and made an “oof!” sound as he ran into Ritchie--both falling over, causing Tierney to trip over both of them and crash to the ground.
Sky - from The Secret Portal Part Two (Carmen POV)
I stared down at my scuffed sneakers as I slowly swung back and forth on the swing, my eyes fixed on a tiny winged bug on a flower. I tilted my head slightly, seeming to get a new perspective on how the sun reflected off the shimmering wings. A caterfly. That’s what it was.
A small gust of wind blew across the grass in front of me, rippling gently through my clothes, and rocking the flower back and forth. With a flitter of its wings, the caterfly hopped off the flower. My gaze followed it as it flew off in the bright summer sky. It was free.
“Hey,” a familiar voice said, causing me to look back down. A smile found its way on my face.
“Hey, Atsila,” I said as she hopped in the swing beside me. “How was your APTA test?”
“Amazing!” Atsila cried, brushing her red hair out of her face, her dark eyes shining. “It’s one of the rare ones!”
“Really?” I asked, fully interested, though attempting to correct my swing so it was in tandem with Atsila’s. She was too small to reach the ground with her feet, but being significantly taller, I was able to have control of my speed.
“Yeah! Umbra— Umbrakin— Shadow manipulation!”
“Umbrakinesis?” I offered.
“Yeah! That’s it!”
We squealed. “Atsila, that’s amazing!”
“I know, right? I can be the most powerful girl at school! And you can—” she trailed off. “Carmen, I’m sorry. I—”
“No,” I interrupted her. “It’s fine.”
Only five and a half months had passed since I found out I was Inutil. It was long enough to cope. At least, for me to cope. I was proud of Atsila for getting such a rare power. No, proud wasn't the right word. She didn’t do anything to get it. Happy for her. That was what I was.
#writing blog#writers on tumblr#writer things#writing community#writers of tumblr#writing on tumblr#writeblr community#writeblr#writeblr tag games#writing tag game#the secret portal#tsp#teaspoon#school of the legends#sotl#tsp excerpt#sotl excerpt#wip excerpt#wip tag game#find the word game#find the word tag game#find the word#writing#writers
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Hello, Mr. Monster (Preview - Ch. 4)
This chapter is going to be very long. Hopefully, I'll finish it by the end of the week, but you're all so patient and wonderful, I decided to give you a treat. Enjoy!
Full chapter now up!
The van sat in the middle of nowhere. Somewhere out west, maybe. Big Sky Country. The horizon spread into forever, bright with lavender clouds and a hot pink glow where the sun’s disk had only just sunk out of sight. Gold framed each puff of purple, and although the sun was gone, the world still glowed warm.
The day’s heat radiated from the van’s hood, where she sprawled, watching the sky turn into a piece of art.
Except, the sky didn’t just look like a painting. It was one. She could see the texture of the thick paper and sus out brushstrokes layering the liquid colors in watercolor splendor.
She didn’t mind.
But it was a little strange.
Oh.
Then.
“I’m dreaming.”
“Yes.”
She sat up, not exactly startled by the voice, but intensely aware of the brooding presence waiting for her attention. Her monster stood in the road, an onyx figure juxtaposed against the soft, hazy pastels, and it felt like he belonged.
But of course he did.
He was the lord of dreams.
She sat in his creation, and he surrounded her, even if he separated his form from his realm in this scene. Every light and shadow. The breeze stirring her hair. The warmth of the sun. Had he wielded a brush with her in mind as he blended that watercolor sky?
A truly monstrous face peered at her. A spine for a snout and great black eyes glowing red. She hesitated, watching him, absorbing her first real sight of his chosen body, and she saw the pale neck behind his collar. He wore a helmet. A mask.
Blinking, she sat back on her hands, puzzling over him. She just couldn’t understand the logic here. A question gathered on her tongue, tart and round like an old-fashioned jawbreaker. If she could just push it past her lips, it would roll right to his feet.
He seemed nearer, inches away from the side of the van instead of yards, and long fingers reached out to the faded paint. Fingers she remembered peering through to see the stars.
“I wished to speak with you.” His voice sounded just a little muffled, and she struggled to pick out every nuance in his quiet tone. He spoke like a king. Assuming her compliance. Maybe uncertain how to ask his own questions. “Somewhere safe.” His hand ghosted over one of the wing mirrors, like he was exploring the dream with a sense she could not see. “Somewhere… familiar.”
The mask lifted, and the gaze behind the dark eyes held her. “You are safe.”
Maybe he offered comfort. Reassurance. Or he wanted to tell her how to feel.
In the stillness of the wide dream, she felt at peace. Maybe not safe, but not threatened, either. And he said he wanted to talk, so the question finally tumbled free.
“Why are you hiding your face?”
He paused, and the world stilled with him.
Confidence swelled into power, a reassuring pressure that straightened her spine and steadied her heart. Her opinion, her curiosity had value, and that gave her an authority entirely opposed the monarch’s control.
She wondered. Did he think she hadn’t noticed?
“You do not know me.” Smoke and sand rasped through the words, hints of emotions she could not see and only barely heard. “You’ve been taught to see me as a monster. Until that has changed… I would prefer you come to know me through other means.”
He laid out his explanation like a royal gift for her to examine and accept. It sparkled with the truth, but it wasn’t whole. Gaps she could fall through lingered in the weave, and she wondered what terrors the King of Nightmares wanted to keep hidden under his coat.
She’d already met them all.
“And perhaps,” he added as an afterthought, murmured half to himself, half into the dream, and hardly at all for her, “it will keep you safe.”
He muttered it like a wish – and why would a god need wishes? – inspiring the wind to carry it away in waves of long grass to the place the sun melted.
With new breath in the dream, he gathered himself from his thoughts and took his turn to question.
“How much do you understand of what was done to you?” His fingers twitched, curled, relaxed with painstaking care.
You’ll have to be more specific.
She barely bit back the taunt. It was a good sign that she wanted to tease. The rhythm of a friendly conversation wouldn’t stir in her head if she wasn’t comfortable on an instinctive level, but she had better sense than that, and she did not know this creature. She didn’t know if he’d laugh or play along. Her childhood burst with tales of his wrath, his quick temper and devastating judgements.
He wanted to know about the scars and the sand.
Looking off toward the paper sky, distracting herself by trying to name each shade between lavender and fuchsia, she recited all the awful facts of the matter. “An unseelie fae tore through my mortality. They cut into the name they found – your name – and filled the cuts with sand. That makes me tricky to kill and a little too aware of my wyrd sometimes.”
Ah, and then – Her eyes fell to her lap, where her fingers picked at imagined hangnails. “It hurts. Aches all the time. Until last night.” She glanced at him through her lashes, like the scrim would hide the memory of tangling herself up in his essence between distant galaxies and throbbing stars. “Thank you. For helping.”
“You need not thank me.” And like he realized how that might be misinterpreted, he continued, “But you are welcome.”
She decided to test the waters, see how generous her monster would be with his words. “Can you… explain it to me? What you did to make it stop hurting? You said you couldn’t heal it.”
“I cannot,” he agreed. “Not entirely, but it is in my power to reach the mark, and I believe that is what causes your worst pains. Your mark recognizes me. My sand still responds to my command.”
Knowing he had control of something literally carved into her heart sparked a flare of caution, and she wondered if all the things he wouldn’t say had to do with the power she never meant to steal. She’d suffered so long, though. The past day was a gift, and as dangerous as it was, she’d probably accept it the next time he offered. What would he ask for in return?
“And you can do it again?”
“Whenever you give me your permission, yes.” He angled towards her, the helmet shifting as he drew closer. “A touch would be enough.”
Her eyes squinted against a phantom rush of sensation. “We definitely did more than touch last night.”
“Yes.” Damn if he didn’t sound smug as hell. The velvet of the night sky in a word, whispering of different, darker dreams that turned to blushing secrets in daylight.
Oh.
So, that was what he got in exchange.
“But I had much more to heal. Tonight, you could simply hold my hand.” He lifted it, just outside her personal space, waiting palm up for her decision. “If you wish.”
#morpheus x reader#morpheus x oc#morpheus x original character#dream x reader#dream of the endless x reader#dream of the endless x original character#hello mr. monster
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I am in love with Bruno. Please.
Snog, Marry, and F*** My Life
S4 | Bruno/MC | 2900+ words | @i-boop-you
The morning after Dylangate, the Islanders get a text telling them it's time for a game of Snog, Marry, Pie. How is this going to go down for MC and Bruno considering they've not even spoken about what happened?
Bruno sucked in a deep breath, gearing himself up for what was to come.
He and India had yet to speak, not since they fell out last night and she had slept out on the daybed. ‘Fell out’ was a bit inaccurate though, since he hadn’t even let her speak, he’d basically just told her to get lost and called it a night, leaving her to fend for herself.
The deep seated regret and embarrassment that had invaded him all night made his whole body sag like it was physically weighing on him. He could barely look her in the eye, he didn’t even know how to start a conversation off, so he’d lingered as long as he could in the empty bed that had never felt so fucking big before, all until he felt too musty. He showered for double the allotted time they each got, his mind a mess of thoughts and whole lot of nothing, his feelings too heavy and solid to let him think straight. By the time he made it outside to face her and the rest of the Villa was when the text came through.
“Islanders, it’s time for Snog, Marry, Pie. Boys are up first, so get those rings polished, the lippy on, and the pies handy. Hashtag, I think I wanna marry you, hashtag, pie time.”
Bruno’s already bloated heart felt fit to burst, his mind saying nothing, but finding enough strength to make his eyes well up.
He had yet to even apologise and now … now this? Of all the challenges, too. He gathered himself up, telling himself to be thankful it wasn’t a vote about the strongest couples. Whatever chance he and India had of winning that was blown out the park thanks to him.
Honestly, Bruno had no idea why he had reacted like he had. It was so unlike him, and everything he had heard was so unlike her. There was no logic to his reaction, it was like someone had flicked a switch in him he never knew he had and the setting was ‘prick’.
Speaking of pricks…
The new boys were up first, and Dylan barged before Oliver to pick up the ring box before the big guy had a chance to offer. Bruno was just joining the lads by the bar where the props were kept while the seven girls lined themselves up along the grass.
There was India. The fresh sight of her sent a lump in his throat, dried out his mouth, and heaped the anxiety on top of him like he was under a rain cloud and each drop was an invasive thought reminding him of how badly he’d fucked up. For the life of him he couldn’t look away.
Like that first moment he saw her up-close, fully realised, in person, there was no way he could tear himself away. One look at her and it was meant to feel like all was right in the world, but he didn’t feel that anymore. All he wanted to do was reach out to her, to take her hand in his, and steal one small smile from her. That’s all. One touch, one smile, that’s all he needed to know that they would be okay, that he hadn’t completely screwed everything up.
But she never looked at him. Never even glanced his way. Instead she stood, head held high - like she should - and had Angie’s hand clasped in her own where Bruno’s should have been. She wasn’t smiling, but she didn’t look that glum. Last night was a whole nother story. Her eyes had been welling up their whole conversation, the tears leaking out before he’d even turned his back on her.
Why had he felt so self-righteous? Why was he so indignant? When did India ever ever make him doubt her or their relationship? Who even was this douchebag Dylan to even get in Bruno’s head like this? There was no reason for Bruno to act the way he had done, none at all.
And this game was going to bring the consequences of that down on his head. Probably covered in a very creamy pie.
Fuck my life.
“All right, I’m snogging this girl because I know she’s not had enough of me yet,” Dylan said, swaggering down the line of girls, walking up and down them, flexing like he’s some prize, oblivious to the way each and every one of them turned their nose up at him. Then he stopped in front of India.
Bruno sucked a breath in between his teeth again. Youcef patted him on the shoulder.
“Well, mon vieux, if that face she’s pulling right now doesn’t tell you everything you need to know…” Youced whispered, pulling back from Bruno, his eyes alight as he watched Dylan and India.
If Bruno didn’t know any better, he would say that the look in Youcef’s eye was a tad triumphant, like a part of him was enjoying this. Well, it wouldn’t shock Bruno too much. Youcef does like a touch of drama that doesn’t involve him. There probably isn’t more to it than any of that.
Dylan went to grab India’s face, intending to entrap and control the kiss, not giving her a way out of it … Bruno’s heart skipped a beat. The rhythmic thudding intensified as India dodged the kiss, giving herself a triple chin in her efforts to fall back from him. If Bruno’s heart wasn’t in his butt he might have chuckled.
“Think again, sleaze,” Angie told him as India burrowed into her.
Bruno appreciated the way Angie held India close, kept her huddled away from Dylan, and knew he had more than that to be thankful to her for. She was the one who stayed out all night on the daybed with India. There’s nothing Angie wouldn’t do for India, and right now Bruno was so grateful, though he knew he’d have to get back in Angie’s good books as much as he would India’s. Maybe even moreso. That woman was fiercely protective of India.
Dylan went off pouting as the girls cheered which ended in the boys clapping and whooping too. Bruno nearly smiled seeing the red blushing up Dylan’s face, couldn’t help but revel in the shared delight they all had at Dylan’s humiliation. Bruno knew he was just as deserving, but right now, he was just happy to have someone to throw all his anger and bitterness and resentment at.
The fire burned because of Bruno, but it was lit and stoked by Dylan, and each hard and thunderous clap of Bruno’s was a representation of how hard Bruno wanted to use his hands against Dylan’s dumb face.
After Thabi refused his marriage proposal and India had pied his kiss, it left Dylan in a fine little sulk. His strut only returned after furiously pieing Angie. He packed a proper wallop into it, really using his volleyball arm. It was a proper Ben Stiller as White Goodman throw. Petty, vengeful, harder than necessary, meant to punish.
She took it like a champ, even standing a step forward in the line, like she was stopping Dylan from even thinking of picking India to pie, shielding her from everything she could. It must have been her comment to Dylan that granted her that wallop.
Despite the booing from the girls, Dylan lorded his way back to the boys. India turned Angie to face her and busied herself by helping Angie remove all that cream, returning a percentage of the care back to her friend.
Bruno just wanted to go over and hug them both.
He stayed where he was as Youcef went next. To no one’s surprise, Youcef snogged Najuma who was all over it in return. Yup, they’d both had plenty of practice doing that. When it came to his proposal, Youcef got down on one knee before India.
Holding open the little blue box, Youcef said Frenchly, “Mon amor, something, something oh so beautiful and very Francoise.”
India swooned along with the other girls. For some reason this burned even hotter within Bruno. On a normal day, Bruno wouldn’t have minded, would have laughed it off, because of course the other guys would be all over her.
Today, though, it was a look at what could happen, a reminder of how badly he’d screwed everything up.
With Youcef’s ring sitting prettily on her ring finger of her right hand, India took Angie’s hand as Will’s turn came. After snogging his new partner TIffany, Will also got down on one knee in front of India. Bruno wondered how many more of these he’d have to suffer through before he finally got to have his say. Though the longer this game went on, the more bottle he lost.
Every. Single. One. Nearly every single one of the guys besides Dylan and James proposed to India. Bruno stood there, the bile in the pit of his stomach frothing away, boiling within him, sinking him further and further into his hole, making him wonder what the point of it all was.
“India, would you do me the honour…” Will said once he was on one knee.
“Of making me the happiest man…” Oliver’s speech went.
“You’re so unbelievably funny and sweet…” Tom purred, flashing a ring that probably wouldn’t even make it past the gilded gates of his estate it was so cheap.
On and on it went, the other guys reciting their lines, professing to India all the things Bruno should have said last night, showering her in the love and appreciation she deserved.
“In a garden of flowers, you are the most beautiful…” “No one else in here like you…” “Only a madman would let you go…” “With everything else going on lately, you deserve this the most…”
Each proposal was like a knife in the chest. How was Bruno’s proposal supposed to stand out and make things even a smidgen better after she had the other guys falling all over themselves to cheer her up. He wasn’t against them cheering her up, she obviously needed her friends rallying around her, but how was Bruno supposed to make it up to her if he … if really wasn’t good enough?
All his insecurities were coming up again, smacking him harder than they had the night before when they led him to believe everything he had heard about India. Maybe it would just be better if he didn’t bother, if he just let her go … She’d probably be happier with one of the millions of guys waiting to propose to her now, be better off
Maybe it was time to call it all off.
But then it was Bruno’s turn in the game. The other lads threw out encouraging hoots for him, did what they could to big him up and show him they were rooting for him, but Bruno had to wonder if there was a small part in each of them hoping that this was it, that Bruno would fail India once again, just so that they could shoot their shot with a clearer conscious?
No, no, that was too cynical, too mean. They were his friends, they wouldn’t think like that.
Bruno took the ring, ready to propose right afterwards. He went to Angie and she stiffened at once. Out of the corner of his eye, Bruno saw India stiffen, too.
They had yet to make eye contact even once and Bruno wasn’t about to have it happen for the first time as he went in to kiss her best friend. Bruno reached out for Angie’s hand and brought it up to his lips with an exaggerated ‘mwah’.
“That was for being there for my girl India and looking after her when it should have been me,” Bruno said, letting go of his grip on her. He looked at a spot between the pair of them, wanting to speak to them both, but too afraid right now to look either of them in the eye. “It’s fair to say that I never should have reacted like how I did last night, so I’m really thankful that India had such a good friend in you Angie, and I hope that you two will have each other for a long time because while I don’t plan on losing my head like I did last night, chances are high that I’ll do something stupid again in the future. Something to make India roll her eyes and call you up and say ‘hey, guess what stupid thing Bruno did this time’. But hopefully your answer will be more along the lines of ‘let me guess, he’s booked a holiday for the both of you without getting me a ticket’ rather than ‘he didn’t believe you over some creep he just met that day and kicked you out of your bed’.”
And Bruno looked at India. She was looking at him. The nervous tinkling of uncertain laughter died off. Bruno got down on one knee, eyes only for India.
“India, I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry. I will never, ever do something like that again. I’ve never been more mad at myself than I am now for what I did to you. I’ve got no excuse, I just let my own head and insecurities get the better of me, but I promise you I will never act like that again. One night away from you has made it clear to me that nothing in this world compares to you, nothing ever will. It’s been, what, a month? And yet you’ve become the most important person in my life. I don’t know what I’d do without you, and I don’t want to find out. I know how hard it might be to believe after last night, but, India, I care about you so much. There isn’t anyone else for me, and if you give me another chance and forgive me, I am going to spend every day from here on out making up for yesterday, proving to you that you’re the most special, beautiful, and funny girl in the world, and that I’m never about to take you for granted again. India, will you take this symbolic gesture,” he holds the ring up higher, “and give me another chance?”
Her expression was soft, but not with forgiveness. It showed only the deep pain he had put her through, showing how much she cared about him by giving away how much this one incident had deeply wounded her. Bruno couldn’t bear it, but he had, too. He would never forget it, it would be seared in his mind forever, as he swore to make sure she would never look at him like that again, at least not of his own making.
As thoughts of her taking the ring, images of her throwing it back at him, filled his mind, so his eyes filled with tears. This was it. If she took the ring, it was the first step to easing his mind, and his anxieties, and his heart, showing that she was willing to not write him off from his one instance.
He loved her. He fucking loved her, and he would never forgive himself if he never got the chance to tell her that. God knows that Bruno wasn’t about to tell her for the first time after an argument, in an attempt to sway her back to him, to make her forgive him. Their first ‘I love you’ would be completely for them, in a moment of love and romance, just like she deserved.
The world took a breath, inhaled in deep, as India reached for the ring. She had eyes only for it, her current conflict clear upon her face. Bruno couldn’t move, couldn’t breath, not until -
India put it on her finger. Her left ring finger, unlike she’d done with the four other rings she’d gotten. Her gaze flickered back to him as her hand was stretched forward, the symbolic gesture of a ring hanging there in the space between them. Bruno’s heart rate doubled. India nodded.
And he was smiling. His wet eyes felt even wetter and it was taking a whole lot not to let those tears leak out. He bit back his smile, not wanting to appear too cocky or come across like a self-assured jackass, but God Bruno felt like he was on cloud nine now. The effect India had on him was dizzying. That one little nod made him feel like he could fly.
Before that, though, it was pie time. The last one of the round. Bruno loaded up the pie crust with nearly a whole bottle's worth of squirty cream as the other lads laughed. Bruno could revel in their jokes and laughter this time around, and could appreciate the sunny sky. Was it just him or had the greyness ebbed in the last few minutes?
There was a skip in his step as he prowled the line up of girls, looking for his victim, making jokes and cracking them up with his dumb pie puns.
“Truth be told, there’s only one person standing here who deserves this,” he said, grinning at India, who was trying to suppress her own smile. Bruno waited until she cracked, her cheeks slanting up to her eyes, making them crease, a snort of laughter she couldn’t help escaping as she knew what he was going to do.
And then Bruno doused himself in the cream, smacking the pie into his own face. As the shocked laughter and the hollering of the others roared in his ears, he smeared it all over his head, rolling it up into his hair and feeling it drip onto his shoulders and down his chest.
“Well,” he heard India shout, “there’s some just desserts if I’ve ever seen them.”
#litg#litg writers room#writers room#litg fanfic#litg bruno#bruno kaminski#litg prompt#prompt#i-boop-you#ask#writing prompt
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Wait you texted your boss you love her?! Say more right now 👀
Wait, holy shit do I have access to my inbox again? FUCK YEAH. My messages are still missing and Tumblr is still not letting me reply to any posts but this is definitely a step up.
Anyway.
Gather round, children, and let me tell you about the dumbest shit I've pulled at work thus far.
I'm generally very quiet. So not even 3 months into this new job where I have no idea what's happening and I am NOT friends with my boss who I kinda/sorta idolize, there's a work outing at the state fair.
It's a good time. We get sorted into teams to do a scavenger hunt and then there's a division wide happy hour afterwards. I have a few drinks at happy hour and I'm chatting with people who I don't know. It's all good.
The calendar hold was only until 5 so I figure I'll leave then. But I get roped in with a group (including my boss) to go to a secondary location. I don't realize until later that it's past 5 so most of the people who have kids and families to get back to have left. At this point, I'm maybe 3-4 drinks in? And 3-4 drink me is when I get loud and aggressive and touchy.
Here, I loudly proclaimed that I was tipsy and it was everyone's responsibility to take advantage of me so I'd be buying drinks. After the first round, my boss tried to buy and I hip-checked her out of the way multiple times to hand my credit card to the server. She said, "Stop buying me drinks! I've seen your paycheck. You can't afford this!" And I said, "Shut the fuck up and tell me what you wanna drink."
This went on for like 5 more hours. I physically did not let her buy me anything. I told her I'd beat her up if she did. At one point, I got on the ground and did pushups? It was nice to see her outside the office where she seems more human and sometimes she hates her job too instead of the polished LinkedIn persona I feel like everyone has in corporate. One of her gripes is that she's been turned down for a raise multiple times despite doing a shit ton of work.
What you need to know about me is that if I decide I like you, we ride or die now (whether or not you want me to be. There's no gift receipt for this bitch). So of course I got very indignant on her behalf and said I'd beat up her boss because how DARE he deny her anything, especially when she carries the team on her back (my words, not hers). And then she was like, "I could do better as a manager" and I told her to shut up because she's amazing. But she wouldn't accept it and I was full blown drunk at this point so the logical conclusion was to hug her and kiss her on the cheek? She went oh! and laughed a little but she was definitely not as drunk as I was because she has like pure Nordic blood and my one saving grace is that I don't get the Asian glow.
After that, we got separated. (The day after she said she went to get fried pickles and thought I was right behind her.) Instead, I got swept out the exit with the rest of the crowd. I was drunk but cognizant enough to be like, hey I should tell her where I am since I didn't say bye. Which is when I sent her this:
And also this:
The drinks were catching up with me now so I called my mom to pick me up at the bus stop. I'd laid down on the grass to try to stop everything from spinning so much and also thrown up a bit. I didn't think it was that bad but my mom says I looked awful tottering over to the car, wiping my mouth and covered in dry grass.
I'm at the age where if I drink too much, I can't sleep and I never black out (which is good), so I spent the entire night replaying memories in 4K and thinking, why the FUCK would I say/do that? Also this was a Wednesday, so I had to fucking go into work the next day.
The I love you part is embarrassing but fine. Threatening people is less fine, but whatever. I really didn't have any excuse for the kiss on the cheek though. I was fully expecting my performance review to start off with my boss going, "Look, we have a no tolerance policy for sexual harassment here so..." and like, fire me.
Luckily she was cool about it and laughed it off, but I was so embarrassed for months. Now the embarrassment has worn off and it's just a hilarious story. But listen to me kids, the moral here is don't ever EVER get drunk at a work function.
#literally why am i like this#it's not even necessarily a drunk thing because last month i fully sober went up to my team and said#just took my last final (theology) for undergrad this morning. I'm done with college and done with Jesus. who wants to do shots with me
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Nona the Ninth, John 15:23(1)
(Curious what I'm doing here? Read this post! For detail on The Locked Tomb coverage and the index, read this one!)
(No icon) In which two mysteries are explained, and several additional spinoff questions asked (metaphorically).
The first day, A- believes. The second, M- and G-. The third, everyone believes, because his eyes had changed.
He coughed wetly and, once he had recovered, said: A girl in my high school once told me I had pretty eyes. I was puffed up over that until I was like thirty. You wouldn’t believe how stupid guys get over compliments on our looks, I was vain as.(2) But my eyes weren’t anything special—light brown, not even hazel, yellow on a sunny day. The morning after the lights went out they lightened to dark amber, then they went the colour of new lager, and on the third day they were gold.(3)
P— said I looked like a Māori TV Pink Panther.(4) C— said I looked like Edward Cullen from that old Twilight movie, if Edward Cullen had the body of a history teacher.(5) A— said I looked cool. He was the only one.
He said, And all around us, those corpses refused to rot.(6)
In the dream(7), they walk up a hill of crunchy brown grass. The water below them is rising, but they don't hurry away. He points at things and names them, more for himself than for her benefit.
Someone’s Honda. Someone’s Mazda. Someone’s four-wheel drive.(8) Someone’s shed. A Macca’s sign.(9)
They find a bench to sit on and he cries for a while, unashamed, then continues his story.
Early on, they moved the corpses around a lot to keep them hidden. M- wanted so badly to prove science had either gone terribly right or wrong. They picked two of them, as different in every way down to method of death as they could ensure, and "played dolls with those two kids for a week". Left them in the boiler room, in the morgue, outside in the elements. Their internal temperatures didn't change the whole time. Every corpse stayed absolutely perfect.
John slept in the facility, not wanting to leave. A- and M- moved in with him, and G- slept in his ute.(10) C- moved in with N-. C- and P- got them through the grace period of a month after lights-out, by massaging the interpretation of contracts and dissuading any sort of action against them. It helped that the world was panicking about the collapse, and not looking at them.
John started to realize he could sense where the bodies were. He could tell which one was in which room without looking, even if the rest of the living moved the bodies around without telling him. M- stops worrying about John being high, and starts cooperating with him, so A- takes up the cause of trying to bring him back to sanity. John took comfort in their squabbling, knowing that when they said the same thing, it had to be serious.(11)
He said, I just wanted to be in the lab. It felt like I could sit by those two bodies, those two kids, and make time go away. I could sit next to them for six minutes, I could sit next to them for six hours. Just listening. They were my moreporks(12) and possums. I was hearing their bodies in all that silence, all the bacteria that weren’t growing … what wasn’t building up in the gut, what wasn’t pooling at the joints. They were my silent night.(13)
He doesn't remember how it came together, how he made the final leap of logic.
The two bodies he'd been working with were named U- and T- on their certificates. It didn't seem right to use those names for them without their permission, with what he was going to do next. He was really starting to care about what was appropriate, what they would have wanted.
So, he got M- and A- to come into a room, saying he wanted to introduce them to someone.
So I brought them into the room with the bodies and I was all, Let me introduce you to … Ulysses. Let me introduce you to … Titania.(14)
In the present, he adds that Titania was for Shakespeare's Midsummer Night's Dream, but Ulysses was for a dog his nana had when he was young.
She said: “But what about the bodies?”
He said, Well. When I said, Ulysses, I moved each of his fingers and his thumb into a fist, curled them into the palm. And when I said, This is Titania, same thing, I placed each of her fingers and her thumb into a fist.
And I was laughing and laughing like I’d kicked out a chair before someone sat down. Like, good joke. But M— threw up.
“Because, Harrow, I’d done it from the other side of the room.”(15)
=====
(1) "He that hateth me hateth my Father also." The greater context is Jesus saying that until him, people were not in sin, but now that he has come, if they reject him, they are in sin for it, because those who hate him must also hate God, who is part of him. How might this relate to the chapter's events? Certainly, lots of people are very intent on shutting down John's operation here, in opposition to him and his mission to save... someone. Or, A1Z26 brings us to THETOW. One assumes this won't be about a blond or flax, though, who knows? (Well, I do, but that's beside the point. Oh boy these John chapters are really sending me down some tangent holes in the intros.)
(2) If anyone's unfamiliar with this phrasing, it's just leaving off the implied final comparison so the reader/listener can insert their own hyperbole. He was vain as what? As the day is long, as the sun is bright, as the grass is green, whatever you want to think. I'm sure there's a linguistic descriptive term for it but I don't know it offhand and those things can be hard to search for, especially as search engines turn to algorithms and ads over actual helpful use of terms given.
(3) So the gold came with the necromancy. Hm. Was it a change in his genes, allowing Gideon to inherit them? Or did she inherit them because of the power even his sperm carried? God-sperm is what put me off finishing The Magicians series, books or TV, and it's a narrow line Muir walks that keeps me going here, alright, but some questions need to be asked, even if we never get a firm answer. (And honestly, I don't think we NEED or even should get an answer to this one. Some things are better left unsaid so we can fill in our own voids.)
(4) And confirmation of John's racial background. This is why you'll see a LOT of fanart that looks a lot like Taika Waititi with blackout eyes with eclipse ring irises.
(5) Said like someone who thinks a dad bod isn't hot. (Yes, my reasons for these comments are getting extremely silly. I'm having so much fun my cat won't even stay on my lap because I'm giggling too much. I hope you are too.)
(6) Sounds familiar… (Note to self-grab As Yet Unsent link when it goes up… and I might as well leave that note in for posterity's sake so you see the process. Oh yes, I write these well ahead, having a queue is a must when you can sometimes write a whole week's worth of posts in a day, and sometimes can't write a post for a week because brain.)
(7) So, these sequences are placed very obviously in the places when Nona falls asleep, rather like Harrow's River bubble dreams in HTN. But, we know THOSE weren't dreams now… but would it be too boring to do the same thing twice? Are these really dreams? Why aren't they Nona's dreams, if they happen when she's sleeping? Last time we saw Harrow she was in an incredibly ambiguous place, not clearly River or real life, but we know her body is inhabited by Nona.
(8) So many vehicles.
(9) The southern hemisphere's name for McDonald's.
(10) Utility vehicle, an SUV or a pickup truck, big enough to set up a bed in or off the back. Though that might not be quite the same sort of vehicles you might think of for those terms in North American markets. (I can personally recommend checking out the Not Just Bikes channel on YouTube for more information on how NA differs in vehicle styles from the rest of the world.)
(11) Definitely tracks with the August and Mercy we knew in Harrow, and John's apparent relationship to them.
(12) A kind of owl in NZ.
(13) I'm reasonably certain this is primarily a reference to the carol, Silent Night, the night of Jesus's birth, the final calm before his life. However, I posit a second meaning. In 1962 a book was published called Silent Spring, by Rachel Carson, about the damage caused by uncontrolled pesticide use in the environment. In 2017, Tyrone B. Hayes and Martin Hansen published a paper titled "From silent spring to silent night: Agrochemicals and the anthropocene", about how humanity is causing a mass extinction. "Silent Spring" was titled to evoke the decline of birds and their song. The "silent night" is used in the paper to evoke the decline of amphibians. I admit this is tenuous as far as connections go, but given the heavy focus on human contribution to the apocalypse? I think it's a reasonable leap to make as far as interpretation, if not intent. "Silent night" because things like the microbial growth and decay are missing, as a sign of something monumental going on behind the scenes.
(14) The names of the Fourth House Lyctor and cavalier. Coincidence? And why would they be uncensored? Perhaps because John gave them those names, versus their... well, their dead names. This is way more than I can unpack in one of these blog posts but I think it's worth thinking about how big the implications of this are.
(15) Why is this in quotation marks? What's different about it?
#the locked tomb#tlt#nona the ninth#ntn#nona the ninth spoilers#ntn spoilers#emperor john gaius#harrowhark nonagesimus
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I keep forgetting how long these take
LK 116: No Life To Lose Like The Present
(pt1)(pt2)(pt3)(pt4)
Hale's like 21, this would be so much less uncomfortable if they had just aged them along with the timeline. She'd be 18.
"Is she actually flirting with another patriot are you fucking kidding me rn I'm right here"
"IF THAT EVEN IS YOUR REAL NAME >:("
This is a valid question and you really should have picked a different cover story, but James is only asking pointed questions because he wants you to stop flirting with the 15-year-old 18-year-old who is also his crush.
How is he not gonna be prepared for probing questions about his backstory, he's about to be outwitted by teenagers.
Nathan you really aren't the best spy in the Continental Army.
....no, you didn't. But it is cute how you're trying to look impressive.
oh, now HE has a crush on Nathan Hale?
OH MY GOD HENRI QUIET DOWN
I just.... this is the worst judgement call.
FINALLY, wow LK Nathan Hale has some sense!
FREEDUM
...this logic feels contrived, wouldn't a better way of putting it be that a service necessary to the cause of freedom becomes honorable because it serves freedom?
Girl y'all have been engaging in Spy and Spy-Adjacent activities for 16 episodes now.
"Why the fuck does everyone keep asking me that."
Nathan you just said you've said too much why are you continuing to tell them your backstory.
Damn he went from jealous to puppy crush in very little time.
Is that grass? What -
fuckin. Everything's so fancy but it doesn't even have a foundation??? Also I see they're meeting with Popular Howe. Prime Howe. Handsome Howe.
I mean. Did y'all think it was gonna be a 4-D chess move that you'd be slick enough to pull off?
Not as much as your brother! Zing!
Sassmaster Benji Franx with the underhanded reassurance.
"Aw man :("
Your plan was to hide in short grass in a clearing, James???
Henri's the only one not interested in stalking the cute but incompetent spy.
#liberty's kids#james hiller#sarah phillips#amrev#henri lefebvre#tricorn on the cob watches LK and makes inane commentary#tricorn on the cob watches LK and spins S/J moments out of thin air#to be fair it does sound like the VA was given some direction to make it sound like James was jealous#right before he immediately crushed on Nathan Hale#tricorn watches
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Uh this is a weird one
Summary: Chase can't sleep
Also reblog I'm tired of people not interacting with anything
A cool breeze blew some grass on the ground. Small puddles of water reflected the light from the sky. Chase leaned his back against the soft pillow in his bed. He pulled the blankets over himself and closed his eyes, awaiting much needed rest. He hugged the blanket tightly to his body, for it felt so warm and comforting.
After a few minutes his breath slowed, entering a relaxed state.
Tap. Tap. Scratch.
Chase slowly opened his eyes in confusion. He rolled over. A deep, heavy breath that wasn't his own. He ignored this for a moment, it simply didn't make sense. Why would there be breathing from his bed?
Curious, he sat up and pressed his ear to the closet door. A faint hiss echoed from it. Chase's heart began to race with worry. No, it couldn't be. Something just didn't make any sense.
He covered himself with the blanket once more. Anything to try to fall asleep. He needed to. He didn't have a choice. A clawed hand wrapped itself around his ankle and squeezed the muscle tightly, digging the tips of its rough claws into his flesh. Chase sat up with anxiety and grabbed his phone to use its flashlight. He hovered the light over his ankle, a sharp stinging pain overwhelming him along with the warm stickiness of blood.
Henrik taught him how to clean cuts and bandage them. If he was brave enough to trek through the dark hallway, he could go to the bathroom and search the cabinet for the supplies he needed to acquire. Unfortunately someone had other plans for him.
"Chase…..Come closer…you can't leave just yet…" Anti whispered beneath the mattress. Chase placed one foot on the floor and felt the hand tug at his ankle. Chase quickly moved his foot away. He then decided to remove the pillow case and wrap it around his ankle, in order to stop the bleeding. "What do you want from me?!" Chase stuttered, his voice loud before trailing off to something quieter.
"Look up Chase. Do it….I'm waiting puppet ...." Anti growled in a deep rumble. Chase's hands shook as he struggled to pick up his phone. He shut his eyes tightly and stayed still. As long as he didn't try to leave his bed, Anti couldn't get him. Chase didn't quite understand this logic, but it made him calm down a little so he repeated this thought to himself.
"You really think I won't be able to hurt you? I'm still here." Anti laughed, his voice disorienting to listen to. Chase covered his ears. "You can't hurt me if I don't move." Chase muttered bitterly.
"Think again, chase. That's not the right answer." Red strings wrapped around Chase's wrists. His hands began to move by themselves, as every fiber of muscle in his brain screamed in violent unison urging Chase with every effort not to move. But he was helpless, he couldn't stop himself.
His hands turned on the flashlight and pointed the beam at the part of the ceiling directly above his bed, there was Anti, his limbs sprawled out in an almost spider-like position. His green eyes gleamed with joy and a wide malignant grin spread across his face revealing rows of shiny teeth. "Sweet dreams Chase." Anti commented in a mocking tone.
Chase screamed and jumped off his bed, rolling onto the floor. He curled up into a ball helplessly. Anti jumped down from the ceiling and landed cautiously onto the matress before pulling a knife out of his jean pocket. "Tell me chase, how does it feel to know that your friends won't believe anything you tell them hm? You think I don't know puppet ooh but I do. It's fun to watch you struggle but I've been so bored lately I need something much more fulfilling ….Something worse….wouldn't you agree chase?" Anti cackled, admiring the reflection in his knife.
"GET THE FUCK AWAY FROM ME!" Chase shouted in rage, his body shaking as his heart pounded in his ears. His stomach twisted into knots.
Anti grabbed Chase's shirt collar and placed the knife on the side of his face. His eyes blacked out. "You say that shit again to me and I will slice you until you beg me to stop cutting you. Understand?"
Chase nodded, sweat beading into small droplets along his forehead.
Anti dropped Chase and glitched inside his closet. "I'll be waiting for you. Sleep well, Chase."
#antisepticeye#chase brody#reblog#jse fanfiction#please reblog#jse fanfic#septic egos#chase bro average#short writing#jacksepticeye writing#jse egos#jse fandom#jse#jacksepticeye egos#tw knife#tw blood
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Razor Blades and Rubber Bands ch.1
Content warning just to be safe: self-harm (cutting) and a pretty vicious one-sided fight between siblings.
It’s just a typical weekend afternoon in the House of Lamentation. Having lost a card game with his sister, Aurelius is left working on both his and Azalea’s chores. He’s just finished up with the laundry and was in the process of putting all the clothes away.
“I swear, I’m never playing another round of poker with her ever again,” the 19-year-old grumbles to himself as he sets the heavy laundry basket on her bed- an obvious lie. She always managed to twist his arm into playing every time with the temptation that he might just win this time if he took the gamble.
“Her schedule sure is packed though,” he says as he looks up at the giant calendar plastered on the wall facing her bed. “No wonder that nerd has no social life… all these tutoring sessions at school- I hope she’s at least getting paid for them.”
As he turns to leave, Aurelius spots an unusual box sitting on her nightstand. It’s not very big but it does look like it might hold something valuable hidden in it. It activates his sin- urging him to know what kind of treasure his twin was hiding and take it for himsef- knowing her, it was probably just some junk that one of her magpies had brought to her like a shiny rock or something lame like that.
“Just a tiny peek won’t hurt anything, right? Just to gauge it’s worth?” The teen flips the top of the box open and is disappointed to find only rusty razor blades and loose rubber bands hidden inside. “That sucks. There’s only junk in here… why’s she even keeping stuff like this? The rubber bands I get but razor blades? What gives?”
Aurelius wracks his brain for any reason Azalea might keep these rusty old things when the faint smell of her blood invades his senses. He picks one of the old blades and inspects it closer.
“Oh… Oh no…” he’s torn at what to do when he comes to the realization that she’s been cutting herself. Should he tell his parents? Of course he should- logically that’s the only right answer- but then it would become this whole big ordeal. Not to mention her trust in him would be shattered and she’d be absolutely pissed that he went snooping around her room.
Chewing on the inside of his cheek as he thinks, the half-demon sets the box back exactly where he’d found it. Perhaps he can reason with her privately and this wouldn’t have to get back to their parents- have one of those good ol’ sibling heart-to-hearts that media likes to portray fixing everything.
・・・〆・・・
Just a few more minutes, Azalea thinks to herself. Just a few more minutes and I’ll be able to blow this pop stand and get back to my room.
The afternoon had proven to be more stressful than the 19-year old had thought. She’d been holed up in RAD’s library tutoring some classmates that were performing less than favorably on their tests in arithmetic and as the class’s top student, the white-and-black haired girl took it upon herself to help these losers raise their grades so it wouldn’t give their class a bad rap.
She looks at the clock and has never been more thankful for 3 o’clock to get here.
“Alright, that about does it for today. Don’t forget about the test in physics next Thursday- y’all better pass or your asses are grass. Got it?” She says while snapping a rubber band against her wrist.
The trio of students nod quickly as they pack up their belongs while Azalea books it for the exit.
・・・〆・・・
The walk home went well enough with no one stopping her on the street for anything. She had just a few more steps and then she’d be back to her room. Just a few more steps until…
“Zalea. We need to talk.”
Damnit!
“Not now, Aurelius, I’m busy. Don’t you got more chores to do or somethin’?”
“You don’t look very busy and no, I finished the whole list of things you gave me to do plus my own chores on top of it. Now like I said, we need to talk.”
“Fiiiiine,” the older half-demon groans, “what do ya want?”
“Well, I found this,” he preforms a simple summoning and suddenly the small box from her nightstand is sitting in his palm.
“Okay and…?” His sister looks unamused. “It’s just a box- a box that belongs to me, might I add. Give it back.”
“It’s what’s in the box, dumbass. The razor blades more specifically.”
“My birds brought ‘em to me cuz they were shiny and pretty at the time. Don’t your ravens do the same for you?”
“No, they don’t” Aurelius frowns. “and I’m having a hard time believing that you’re just collecting them for no reason- not when they reek of your blood. You’re using these to cut yourself somewhere aren’t you?”
“Wha- you- that’s insane for you to think I’m hurting myself.” She knows she’s been caught. Now, how does she lie herself out of this and get her beloved razor blades back?
“Well aren’t you?” There’s an expectant look on his face- like he’s expecting her to just come out and say it, “Just admit it because you can’t lie your way out of this one, Azalea.”
“Give me my box back, Aurelius! Why were you even going through my stuff anyway!?” Azalea makes a grab for the box but her brother, being just a couple inches taller than her, is holding it just out of her reach.
“No! I’m not letting you hurt yourself anymore!” With some quick thinking, the 19-year-old mutters a spell and the box disappears into a pocket dimension that he keeps his most treasured items in.
“You asshole, where’d you even send them?!”
“Nowhere you can get to them,” Aurelius smirks before he’s throwing his arms up to block a punch from his twin.
And Azalea doesn’t stop at one punch. She’s angry, she needed those razor blades. They were her favorites. She has to have them and she has to have them now.
“Give. Them. Back!” Each word is accentuated by a punch or a kick- practically rag-dolling her brother around as she continues the beat down until he’s bloodied and bruised.
At the rate she’s going, she’ll ruin his modeling career but she can’t bring herself to care. He took something from her, so she’ll take the most important thing in his life from him.
The minute he strikes back to defend himself, she grabs his wrist and hurls him across the House of Lamentation’s entrance hall where he smashes into one of the stone gargoyles that face each other. It breaks apart at the head and Aurelius is left gasping for breath as Azalea steps on his face, grinding the entirety of the right half into the sharp stone debris and drags it back and forth to make sure the rubble would leave scars. If he survived this, she would make sure he remembered just why he shouldn’t mess with her stuff.
She’s only stopped when Zulima, having just walked in on this nightmare scenario, uses her entire body to separate the two of them. Melissa and Solaris, who had also just come through the door with their older cousin immediately do their best to heard Azalea away into the common room as they beg her to calm down while Zulima is busy tending to Aurelius who currently is unresponsive.
Instead of going with Melissa and Solaris, Azalea just storms off to her room, slamming the door shut behind her and locking it.
The three younger half-demons all stare at each other with worry in their eyes before Zulima orders one of them to call for emergency services and the other to get a hold of their aunt and uncle.
・・・〆・・・
Azalea needs to calm down. She knows this. Her reaction was over the top but all she could see at the time was red. She snaps the rubber band around her wrist until it breaks in a feeble attempt at grounding herself but it didn’t work.
She needs to cut. Only the pain can bring her back to her senses right now. It’s a good thing she has back up razor blades hidden in key spots around her room.
The white-and-black-haired girl throws open one of her desk drawers, fumbling around in it until she finds what she’s looking for. Quickly tying up her shirt, she presses the tiny blade to the skin of her left side.
No, she thinks to herself just before she can draw blood, that would be the wrong move. Everyone’s downstairs right now- they’ll find out for sure once they smell the blood.
But what’s the right move? Where can she go?
“I have to get out of here. I can’t stay here after what I did.” She grabs as many outfits that she stuff into a duffle bag. As she’s packing and trying to figure out where she should go. She’s reminded of something her father had said a couple months back.
‘I think you’d make it up there just fine.’
That’s it! The human world! That’s where she’ll go. She can disappear up there and no one will ever find her.
There’s a witch she’s heard of living far out in the wilderness of the Devildom- someone who can travel freely between the realms. Azalea doesn’t care just what it costs her, but she has to get out of the Devildom as quick as possible.
・・・〆・・・
Hours later, after everything was all said and done, Aurelius is resting peacefully in the hospital. He’d suffered countless injuries from his sister’s attack- the most worrying of them being the fractures to his skull, the three crushed ribs, and the collapsed lung.
Mammon and Arella are in complete shock. While they were known to pick on each other from time to time, Azalea and Aurelius had never once fought on a scale quite like this before.
“Why would she do this?” The human frowns as she paces around the room, “I thought- no, Azalea was getting better. She hasn’t attacked anyone in months- not even when she was attacked first. For her to be so brutal-“
“He took something from her-” Mammon’s voice is quiet. “Something that holds so much value to her that she’d even kill to get it back.”
That was the one rule in their house that Mammon was overly-strict about. They were to never steal anything from each other. Especially not if the item in question held value to its owner.
“Think about it, Hon. All of our children are overly possessive about the things that belong to them. Azalea may not satisfy her sin through material objects like the boys do but what’s hers is hers and taking it would mean the paying the ultimate price. Until whatever that item is gets returned, Aurelius won’t be safe in the dorm. She’ll keep going after him until she has it back.”
“Then we’ll return it.” Her voice sounds anxious as she grips the rail of the hospital bed. “When Aurelius wakes up, we’ll find out what he took and return it for him. Then the problem will resolve itself.”
Mammon nods but doesn’t say anything in return, his mouth still drawn in a thin line. It crosses his mind that perhaps the item in question was part of a larger issue.
Ever since that time he’d forced his daughter to babysit her youngest brother, he’d had his suspicions that she’d been harming herself somehow. Perhaps Aurelius had taken whatever she was using to hurt herself, disposed of it, and threatened to tell their parents. That would explain the severity of the attack- why she damn-near mauled him to death over it.
“You stay with Aurelius for now, Arella. I’m gonna track down Azalea. I got something I wanna ask her about that’s separate from this whole incident anyway.”
He walks out of the room without waiting for the human’s reply.
・・・〆・・・
It’s already nightfall by time Azalea reaches where the witch’s hut should be. She looks around, but she doesn’t see anything- the cloud cover obscuring the moonlight doesn’t help matters much either.
“Did I go the wrong way?” The teen mumbles to herself as the ground starts quaking beneath her feet. Something big was coming. “The fuck is-!”
Out of the corner of her eye, she see it. A small cottage set atop of two very large chicken legs is booking it through the forest and she’s right in its path.
For a minute, the half-demon freezes- too surprised that this witch could even live in a house that was constantly moving like that in the first place. It isn’t until her brain processes that she’s about to be crushed that she actually does something about it and takes off running.
Scaling to the top of a couple trees before they’re uprooted, Azalea is able to launch herself up onto what looks like the front porch, landing with a loud “oof.”
The cottage screeches to a halt, nearly throwing her off if she hadn’t grabbed the door handle at the last possible second. Once she’s sure everything has come to a stop, the tanned female lets out the biggest relieved sigh as she slumps to the ground. She has only a moment’s rest before the door is being swung open.
“Who dares disturb the my foraging?!” A young woman’s voice booms as her crystal colored eyes scan the porch.
Azalea can only stare up at her, tongue-tied. She was expecting someone decrepit, not this girl who looked to be maybe just a tad older than herself.
“D-down here.” He cheeks flush from embarrassment at how small her voice sounds.
Crystal-blue-hued eyes drift downward until they land on the cambion’s disheveled form and the witch lets a wolfish grin cross her face that makes the 19-year-old’s heart flutter.
“You’ve got some type of nerve to interrupt my harvesting, little demon… I like it. Come inside.”
She extends her hand to the girl and Azalea takes it.
・・・〆・・・
To be continued
A/N: before anyone asks, yes, the witch’s hut was meant to be a reference to the Baba Yaga’s hut. The imagery of a hut on chicken legs just kills me especially if I imagine it hauling ass through the forest.
#obey me#obey me shall we date#obey me swd#obey me! shall we date?#obey me kids#obey me next gen#azalea#aurelius#obey me mammon#om! mammon#obey me oc#arella
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There is quite an undue importance placed on being the first of anything. Being first in competitions, being first in rankings, being the first to do something. Therefore, as logic follows, the first companion I write about should be the most significant, the most influential, the one I have spent the most time with. Clearly, I will write about the most important one first, right?
The assumption is presumptuous. I write about people; they influence me in different ways. Naming any one of them the most important would be tantamount to dismissing the rest.
Still, I have to start my recounts sooner than later, and picking a companion dearer to me than some others may help with my tale. It may convince you to continue reading, at any rate.
That settles it. I will begin with Shifter.
--
I have met many companions on my travels, in and out of linear time, but Shifter was undoubtedly one of the first, and our meeting was more lighthearted than most.
At the time, I had still been a novice traveller. I had been reckless; I was running away. From who or what, I no longer remember, but a sudden urge to flee had descended onto me; I ran across the galaxy, stars under my childlike feet; to the first planet I saw between lightyears that had the promise of life.
The next part is embarrassing to recount as an experienced traveller. But at that time, an experienced traveller I was not.
I tripped. I fell. And I plummeted into the young planet’s atmosphere as a shooting star.
Where exactly I ended up, I did not know. What I did know was that for a couple of hours, I lay in the grass I had landed in, blinking away the flashing lights behind my eyelids - because for all of my kind’s invulnerabilities, their downside is that we have to grow into them - and I waited for my discomfort to subside.
After a few moments, there was a shift in the clearing - a brief movement. I lifted my head from the indent I had made in the ground and looked up.
A black panther, easily the largest I had ever seen, was looming over me, with black and white irises that seemed to bore straight into my existence.
What I did next, I am not proud of. I may have yelped. I attempted to move back, forgetting that I was still lying down in a shallow crater of my own making, which only resulted in me tripping and falling in my attempts to make up. The panther watched my every movement before it let out what sounded like an amused growl and stepped back.
And there, before my eyes, the large black panther stood and shrunk, his glorious pelt melding into smooth muscle, tail disappearing into nothingness, and bone cracked and shifted into bipedal stances - only those interesting eyes staying the same, black and white, monochrome - until what stood in front of me looked, for all intents and purposes, like a human. A dark-skinned, youthful human with black hair, his eyes the only indication that he was anything but.
He took one look at me and laughed. “It’s you.”
I was confused. He spoke like he had recognised me already.
“Your name - you told me.” He bent down slightly to be at my height, his voice deep and slightly rough. “You visited me when I was a child and gave me my name. You were also nice enough to tell me you might crash-land as a kid in the future. So you don’t remember me, right?”
I shook my head no.
“Well, we should probably get the introduction out of the way.” He held out a hand to me, and I grasped it, registering the strength in it as he pulled me up. “My name is Shifter. It’s nice to meet you, Traveller.”
--
His world was beautiful. It resembled a more primitive but fantastical version of what is the Medieval age in your world; what your world might have looked like, perhaps, if nonhumans were to inhabit it and bring with them their own peculiar little sorts of magic. In his world, gods walked on the earth like their worshippers did, and their magic ran freely, with abandon. Shifter was one of the products of godly magic gone wrong, a fragment of what had happened after the Goddess of the Wild had passed on and split into two. It had made him, given him the power to shift into whatever animal he desired, and it had given him a twin sister; a pseudo-goddess of her own who held dominion over the Hunt the same way Shifter represented the animals in the Wild.
I spent what was three months to him on his world; he brought me into the forest where he lived, showed me every inch of it, and bade me make acquaintance of its residents. They all waved to me with a familiarity I did not share, and when I asked Shifter he looked at me with a glitter of amusement in his mismatched eyes.
“Of course.” He snorted. “They love you. You’ve visited before, remember?”
I did not. I told him so, very seriously, but he just gave me an indulgent smile.
This is not Shifter’s first memory of me - that comes later, much later in my travels, after I mastered the skill of walking through not only worlds but also against time itself.
This, however, is my first memory of him.
There is not yet a word in the English language to describe the feeling of metamorphosis, of being ever-changing, being moulded and influenced and added to thanks to your own experiences and memories and environment.
There is a word for it, in his; he told it to me later, in a quiet whisper, and confessed that in the future when I revisited him again I would give him that word as a name.
My memories of the time I spent with Shifter then are mundane, but I remember leaving his world with a heavy heart and a longing to return someday. I had always understood before that I would change someone, perhaps multiple someones; it was expected. Someone cannot travel through worlds and space and expect to pass through unknown by all. But to see the impact of it reflected in front of me, in a single being, knowing that I would return someday to Shifter when he was a child and bestow upon him a true name that he would carry for the rest of his life -
It truly is beautiful, how much a single person can shape you. We are all, in part, what other people make of us.
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A Flower that Could Never Bloom(2/3)
“Not only you are the youngest boss to date to own your unit but you also use your spare time to solve old cases. You are truly an overachiever Crowa Miller".
“Are you insinuating that I need to touch grass and find a better hobby Mr. Hills Johannes?"
That earns a chuckle from him.
She smiles.
It was fun bantering with him.
“That would have been hypocrisy from my part to make such a claim as I don't like going out either”.
“What about chess? You seem the type to enjoy this kind of thing"
“How so?”
“According to the knowledge I acquired from watching movies and reading books it seems that Chess is a game for smart people" she jokes.
“Yes, I do enjoy it" Johannes admits, amused. “What about you? Do you like it Miller?”
“I know the rules" she nods, thanking Johannes for picking the box for her. “But I wouldn't say that I know how to properly play it”.
“Would you like me to teach you?”
“You mean thoroughly kicking my ass right?”
“Just as much as the literal asskicking you give me in our combat training”.
“You are so petty Johannes".
They laugh together.
Clap clap
“I saw it many times already and yet it never fails to amaze me.” Johannes smiles, giving her a towel to wipe her sweat. “How you are able to solve missing cases that no one else could"
When Johannes had asked her to bring him along on her “extra cases" she had been hesitant at first.
‘Give me some time to think’
It hadn’t been an easy decision for her. She had so many things to think about and several factors to consider.
First of all how he would take it.
People usually found her “skills” disturbing.
The ability to find bodies in the most unlikely places, sometimes in the literal middle of nowhere with no landmarks in sight unsettled them. The uncanny way she was able to pick on a tell when no human possibly could was unnverving. Her accuracy at predicting that an unassuming and innocuous random object turning up as an important clue to a case was thought as eerie.
It frightened her peers. They found no logic, rhyme or reason to her actions. From their point of view she must have looked like a crazy, erratic and nonsensical woman, someone to not be associated with and to be avoided at all cost.
From what she could garther Johannes didn’t seem the type to be fazed by anything but still, she could not be sure. Moreover there was another far more pressing problem that she knew for a fact that he DID take issue with.
Namely, reasoning.
Or, in this case, lack of thereof.
Because how do you explain what she did in a way that appealed to common sensibilites?
She knew where the corpse was because she can see spirits and they tell her where their body is. Being able to pick on tells isn’t due to any visual or auditory clues, it’s because she cheats by reading emotional reactions to things and the zeroing in an seemingly ordinary object was because people leave “emotional imprints” on them and she has the power to perceive it.
Yeah, that wouldn’t fly.
Johannes would think she was either out of her mind or that she was mocking him. Whichever would be the worst option, she didn’t know, but regardless, he would lose respect for her.
This spelt disaster no matter how you looked at it.
...And yet she allowed him in.
“It’s incredible how precise your “intuition” is”. He edges the hole she had dug, leaning closer to take a look. “Of course we have to wait for results from the analysis to determine if it’s the person we were looking for but it wouldn’t surprise me if you were right once again”
“Anything else you want to put to test Johannes?” she sat besides him, looking above the water bottle she was drinking, taking a peek at the neat handwriting of her second-in-command as he took notes about the case.
She had preemptively told him about how she directed her forces by intuition and instinct but it still felt embarrassing and mortifying to show him firsthand what it looked like.
Thankfully he hadn’t been too put off by it. It may have caused him to raise an eyebrow on occasion but he didn’t look disgusted nor freaked out by it. If anything he looked intrigued.
‘I can’t explain to you how it works but I can show you that it works.’
No matter how much she thought about it she couldn’t find a plausible enough explanation to give to him. She could lie and make up an excuse but she knew that Johannes was far too perceptive for that to work.
She could have denied his request but then what would that do? As long as he worked under her she couldn’t hide this side of hers from him, it would come up one way or another to some extent while they worked together on the field.
She could tell him to just accept things as they are and not question it but that didn’t sit well with her either.
So, the only thing she could do was to double down, expose everything and let him be the judge of it.
“That day... When you saved me it was thanks to that “hunch” of yours right?” he suddenly spoke. “Even the guys that left me to die couldn’t possible know my exact whereabouts yet you managed to find me in the nick of time”
“I guess I sensed you calling for help”
“Oh? So does that mean that if I think hard enough about you there’s a likehood of you coming to my aid?” he smirked. “Now that’s something I would like to test”
“Please don’t. You shouldn’t needlessly risk your life like that”.
“Why not? After all, aren’t you trying to show me how reliable you are?” His smirk widened.
“It’s not like you to be reckless Johannes”
“That’s true” he conceded. “But that just shows how much faith I have in you. In fact, maybe moreso than myself”
She was glad that Johannes was taking her demands well.
She was aware of how he was treated before. How his ideas were constantly shot down and snubbed, how he was assigned menial and unimportant tasks to put him in his place and the kind of condescension he had to face before joining her unit.
She had considered the possibility of him taking her criticisms the wrong way due to his bad experiences but soon enough he proved her fears to be unfounded.
He took her words with a level headed consideration. Always up to the challenge, it was a testament of how smart and talented he was as he was quick to learn and adapt to unexpected situations.
It came to a point where she didn’t need to intervene anymore and when she did he didn’t take issue nor ressented her for it. They knew what the other was capable of and held a mutual respect over it. There was no “lesser” between them, only equals that pushed each other to flourish to greater heights.
Johannes was a man of action.
“Miller, we need your help to interrogate this susp-”
“Let me have a look at it”
“Johannes?!”
“Huh, it seems simple enough, I can handle this in her stead” he nods. “Besides, it would be a perfect opportunity to put in practice what she taught me”
She leaned back on her chair and closed her eyes, soaking in the feeling and getting lost in her own thoughts.
She never had this opportunity before, the chance of having time for herself.
Johannes was probably doing all of this for the sake of improvement and perfecting his craft but still.
No one had done that before. To offer to do something for her sake on their own initiative without her needing to ask for it.
It made her happy.
Her peers constantly demanded something from her, pilling more responsabilities, requesting her to do this or that without regards towards whether or not she could take it. They did not care if she was busy, if she was tired, if she was overwhelmed by everything, they kept pushing everything on her back.
But Johannes was different. He was the first person to try and share her burden.
He asked for help but also payed back in kind.
He readied detailed data for her, helped her to fill in reports and troublesome bureaucratic documents, delegated orders while on the field and even took some investigations and interrogations requests dumped on her. He took a massive weight out of her shoulders. She found she could breath again, all thanks to him.
She was truly fortunate to have someone like him by her side.
“Johannes certainly became docile”
“It’s kind ironic. He always made such a big fuss about not bending the knee to someone he considered bellow him and yet he became a tamed mutt to Miller of all people”
“How low he has fallen, he completely lost any sense of pride he had. Unfortunate, really”
She was naive.
She had dropped her guard, thinking it would be safe to take her mask off becase unlike with Andrews Johannes wasn’t related to the “incident”.
She hadn’t accounted for the fact that people would look down on him, subject him to slander just because oh him being associated with her.
She chanced a glance at him.
Johannes stood tall among the gossip, carrying himself with pride just as always, his confidence not shaken in the slighest.
She looked him in admiration.
“Johannes what do you think about the gossip going around?”
“What about it?”
“People calling you “my dog” or something” she elaborates. “Doesn’t that bother you?”
“Not really. In fact, I kind like it”
“What.”
He chuckles at her perplexed reaction.
“I want to make clear to everyone how highly I regard and respect you” he explains. “Nothing makes me prouder than being your most trusted person Miller”
He bows, leaning closer to her ear, voice low as if was sharing a secret only meant for her to hear.
“If anyone else thinks I will bow my head to them they will be in for a rude awakening” he laughs breathly. “My devotion is meant only for you. No one else has the right nor deserve to have this claim over me like you do”
She flusters at his pledge, his warm breath still tingling on her ear as he leans back to look straight into her eyes.
His gaze was intense. She could feel the strength of his conviction, she can tell that he’s being sincere.
She feels her heart beating faster.
Does that means he cares about her?
=_=_=_=_=_=
...It had been a while since she last sensed supernatural activity.
“A rescue mission huh? I have the layout of the place, I think-”
“Johannes” she cuts him off.
“Yes Miller?” He immediately replies.
“I have to go. Alone”
She wasn’t new to this, she had to deal with a fair share of them already.
But this one would be the first time she had one since Johannes joined.
“Why is that?” he asked her.
“…Remember when I once told you about a situation that would require me to use my 'Authority’? This would be it”
She felt her mouth go dry.
Usually she allowed him to execute his plan and then change it accordingly if necessary but that day she couldn’t afford to do that. She had to go in, alone, and couldn’t offer him a plausible explanation, she had to keep him in the dark.
She would have to order him to stay. For the sake of keeping him and everyone else safe.
But... She would rather not do that.
She knows she’s asking too much.
There was no reassurance nor logical reasoning to her actions. From his point of view it probably looked like a suicidal and reckless move.
And she was asking him to put his principles aside, everything he believed in, for the sake of trusting in her.
“…Are those one of your 'hunches’?”
“No.” She denied, face turning serious. “ It’s a certainty”
She let out a breath she didn’t know she was holding in.
She could almost laugh and cry in relief right now.
“Thanks Johannes. Make sure no one enters the perimeter until I get back alright?”
Everything went well on the rescue mission. She got everyone out safely and severed the spiritual connection so everything could go back to normal.
She looked at Johannes at the corner of her eye.
She was that glad that nothing went wrong. That she didn’t betray the trust he had placed on her.
Everything was alright now.
“I’m truly grateful for what you did Johannes”
“I did nothing in special to deserve such compliment, I only did what you told me to do”
“Still, that made me really happy” her eyes lightned up, voice going soft. “…You became someone I grew to cherish so the fact that you did it out of trust really means a lot to me”
It was true.
She truly cherished him.
Directly or Indirectly by the plea of their hearts, people always expected her to “be something” or to “think of their needs”. She always had to think of other’s sake and never hers. She was asked to put herself aside, to never be a priority here.
Johannes had asked what she needed. He didn’t take from her but gifted her instead. His heart... It wasn’t made of only demands, he shared things with her.
Not only requests like others, but contentment, accomplishment and pride- At himself and at her too.
Maybe it was why, despite her previous experiences, despite closing off to the world due to her traumas that she was so willing to open up and trust in him.
He was fair to her. Since the first time they met.
You accept his criticisms so he gives you advice. You share in your knowledge with him and he helps you back. You are honest with him and he will answer with sincerity.
Even if his actions were done for the sake of his job it still touched her in a way no else did before.
It might be foolish of her to think of it like this but...
“I think the same of you”
Her eyes widened in surprise.
“I never cared about seeking companionship or comradery with anyone until I met you” He speaks, unchacteristically soft. “The bond I have you, I cherish it, because you are “special” to me”
Thump Thump.
Ah... What should she do?
His words... It made her so happy. She didn’t know how to react. What to say.
‘You are special to me’
She didn’t know why, but the idea of being important to him made her chest warm with an unknown and indescriptible feeling.
Something gentle, kind and soft.
Like the bloom of a flower.
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@governmentofficial
(continued)
Hm?
For a moment, Mycroft didn't understand the point of the question. Wasn't it obvious how he'd figured it out?
Maybe it wasn't. That was... Well, it was disappointing. Mycroft had hoped that adults at his father's work would be smarter than the staff at home, but maybe they weren't. It was especially disappointing because he liked Malcolm. He wanted him to be smart, because he wanted to be able to have conversations in which he wasn't forced to keep stopping to explain himself.
Oh well. Even if he maybe was a bit of an idiot, Malcolm was still nice to him. For Mycroft, that was quite the novelty.
"He has mud on his shoes," the boy pointed out, unable to keep the disappointment completely from his tone of voice. He had really thought that Malcolm would have spotted that himself.
"Wet mud on the sole. If he had come straight from Parliament like he had said, then any mud would be long dry. However, he's not a complete idiot - he knows that he can't lie completely about where he was, especially when attendance was a matter of public record - ergo, he did attend Parliament, but he spent some time standing on grass after. Father has mentioned to me before that journalists like to gather on a patch near some grass. When you add it all together, probability states that your politician gave an interview to some journalists but he doesn't want you to know about it. He didn't look frazzled, though, so he is either a good liar or the interview did not go wrong - which further suggests that he purposely gave an interview that you would dislike for one reason or another."
Malcolm hadn’t known what to expect from Mycroft’s explanation, but his eyebrows raised as the boy went through his process. He was talking about mud, as though it were the most obvious and ordinary thing in the world. And it fucking was when it was explained the way that Mycroft had explained it.
London was a dirty city, of course. The mud could have come from a lot of places. But it made sense. Perfectly logical. And the probability of someone being a sneaky little bastard, of lying to him, was always high.
“Jesus Christ...you’re a miniature Poirot.” Malcolm replied, unable to keep the amused grin from his face. He was impressed, yes, but he was also grateful. It was like having his own personal bloodhound to sniff out treachery.
He pulled out his phone, already making sharp inquiries. He’d get to the bottom of this before the sun went down.
“You know, Mycroft, whenever you see something like this...I want you to tell me.” He added, looking down at the boy now. Then he squatted down so they could talk face to face, or as close as was possible. “Because you can see a lot more than I can. The amount of idiocy I’m dealing with on a daily basis, it leaves my brain a bit full, right? So when you do happen to be here, you could be my right hand man. Yeah? How does that sound?”
Was it wrong to use a child this way? To pick up on signs of deception that he might miss himself because he was too distracted, or because he simply wasn’t looking for it? No. Because Mycroft couldn’t switch it off, that uncanny observational skill he had.
And Malcolm sensed that the boy would enjoy it, besides. It’d be more interesting for him than following Malcolm around like a lost puppy.
#I love how this is like Myc's first training ready for the world of politics lmao#& mycroft holmes#malcolm ; young v#come the fuck in or fuck the fuck off ; malcolm tucker#q
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