#My sister's sick too we might have eaten something wrong

[80roxy08]

Uuuurgh I'm sick

Tummy ache :(

#Text #Perso #My sister's sick too we might have eaten something wrong #Can't figure out what tho #So we're just being miserable together #Mrry chritsmats anyway lol

[missmonsters2]

today I feel awful... idk my insecurities are taking over me and I just want to curl into a ball and cry. maybe it's my hormones maybe the fact that I weighted myself and found out I gained weight (I can't fit into my jeans 😭) and the fact that I saw my sister in a tight skin dress looking perfect while I'm in my pj's just destroyed my confidence. I need something angsty to read to make me forget about my sad, miserable lffe right now. would you be down in writing sth angsty with nat maybe? you don't have to though. it's fine either way. I really appreciate all of your work and I keep reading on repeat whenever I'm feeling down. makes me cheer up. thank you, van ❤️

It's like we're the same person because I also went to visit my sister recently and my sister has gotten her life together and is living her best hot girl bod while I...let's not go there.

I just want you to know that you're hot as fuck and a body is just a body that we can change with time and effort. We're lit rally in this together. This time next year, we will be rocking the body that makes up happy and we'll be healthy!!! 💘💘

But I will still give you nat angst...but with a happy ending bc I said you deserve a HEA!!

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The Withers of Springtime Bloom

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader

Summary: Spring is a time of blooming and when things come back to life. You can't help but notice things that may be causing your relationship with Natasha to wither.

Warnings: self-esteem issues, insecurities about body, relationship with working out and food, seasonal depression. angst with HEA.

Count: 2.1k~

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You're not sure when things changed.

Things change so slowly after all.

Without you noticing, things change and change and change until one day, you do notice.

You notice that Natasha has become quieter, somber.

You notice the lack of date nights and affectionate touches.

You notice that you've let yourself go a little.

You're standing in front of the mirror, staring at your body with a frown. You've gained weight since dating Natasha, but relationship weight gain was normal, wasn't it?

But you remember how Natasha was just as fit as she was before she met you. Sure, she was a superhero, and you were a regular civilian; there was no reason for you to train long hours as Natasha did.

Still...

You turn to the side and peer at yourself in the mirror again.

You can't help but wonder...were you becoming less attractive to her?

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

It had been the beginning of fall when you met Natasha. You loved the season of change and when things turned into warm colors before withering away for winter to come.

Natasha had come like a blessing, and in the winter, she was just warm as the colors of fall. Instead of withering away, she bloomed and invested that warmth in your relationship with her.

Despite always being an early riser to work out, weekends were the days she stayed in bed with you just a little longer. There had been so many breakfasts, lunch, and dinner dates. You found yourself moving things around or neglecting to work around her busy schedule.

Perhaps that was when things began to change. Eating out so often and forgoing working out to spend time with Natasha was what led to this.

Spring has arrived, and things are coming back to life. Yet somehow, your relationship with Natasha was withering away.

"Hey," you greet her as you come home, shopping bags in hand. You bought some more clothes when things felt like they didn't fit comfortably anymore. The experience had been upsetting for you, and you didn't end up buying too much, telling yourself you didn't want to spend too much when you were going to lose the weight.

Natasha was working in her office, peering down over reports, and barely acknowledged you other than with a hum.

"Long day?" You ask her as you put your things away and walk over to her.

"Yeah," Natasha sighed. "Trying to get these reports done since Maria needs them tomorrow."

That had been Natasha's excuse for spending long hours in her office every night for the last two weeks.

You place your hand on Natasha's shoulder with a reassuring squeeze, but she leans to the side as if to readjust herself, but still away from your touch.

The sting immediately comes, but you try to push it down, so it doesn't hurt as bad.

"Right," you say hoarsely, but Natasha stares on at the reports. "I'm just going to get ready for bed. It's been a long day and all. Let me know if you need anything."

Natasha gives you a nod as you leave the room. You feel awkward as you lie in the bed you share with her. You wonder if you're taking up too much space.

There's a pang of something as you try to curl yourself to be smaller and only distantly realizing you've skipped dinner before you fall asleep.

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You fall back onto the mat, chest heaving and your lungs burning.

It's been a while since you've worked out, and now you're definitely paying for it with how unfit you are.

The gym is moderately empty with the hour it is. You hate going to a public gym because it always feels like someone is staring, but it's better for strangers to stare than working out at the Compound for people you know to stare at you.

The rational part of you knows that you should just talk to Natasha, but the emotional side of you whispers that you won't like what Natasha has to say, that she might even end it before you've had a chance to change yourself.

When weeks pass, and you weigh yourself again, you almost start crying because you've only lost a couple of pounds.

It's normal, you know it is. You're losing weight at a normal rate, but it's not enough. You know fast weight loss wouldn't make sense for your body but you also feel you don't have half a year to go back to your normal weight.

You sit on the bathroom floor for hours, debating what to do when you hear a quiet knock.

"Sweetheart, are you in there?" Natasha's muffled voice comes through.

You wipe at your eyes furiously as you stand up.

"Y-Yeah," you answer back. "I'm just in the tub soaking."

There's a moment of silence through the door before Natasha answers back, "Alright. Enjoy yourself. Did you want me to order anything specific for dinner?"

"No, it's okay," you tell her. "You order anything you want. I already ate on my way home." You think about the chicken salad you've been eating for the past two weeks and almost sigh.

Natasha answered that she just came back to see if you've eaten, but she actually had to head back to the Compound. You were Natasha shuffling around before leaving through the front door, and you let out the breath you were holding.

You actually take a long, hot shower before putting on sweats and a big hoodie.

The truth was, you were hungry. The chicken salad was okay on the way home, but it had been a couple of hours since.

You knew starving yourself wasn't the answer, so you went into the kitchen to see if you could find something healthy to hold you over until you could go to bed.

But you can't find anything in the fridge except for Natasha's leftovers from whatever she ordered the day before. You can't find anything except frozen pizzas and microwavable foods.

You check the calories on the back and let out a frustrated sigh. Checking your watch, you realize it's too late in the evening to go grocery shopping because, by the time you get there, stores will have closed.

You slump down on the floor, leaning against the cabinets as you let out a pathetic whimper while your eyes became hot with tears.

You miss Natasha. You want Natasha holding you and telling you it would be okay. But you couldn't have that until you were back to what you were when you met her.

The front door suddenly opens.

"Have you seen my—sweetheart?" Natasha started to call before she noticed you sitting on the floor. "What's wrong?"

You use your sleeve to wipe at your eyes as you sit up straight.

"Nothing," you sniffle before you start to stand. "I just stubbed my toe against the edge of the kitchen island. What were you looking for? USB? You left it next to the bedside."

Natasha stares at your back, hair still wet as she takes in your attire.

"It's a little hot to be wearing a hoodie and sweats, isn't it?" Natasha asks softly. "Doesn't seem like you turned on the aircon in here."

You keep walking, but Natasha starts to follow you.

"'m cold," you say quietly so she can't hear the tremble in your voice.

"Are you feeling sick?" Natasha asks with concern as you sit down on the couch, turning on the TV. You pull the blanket over you as if to make your point.

"No," you tell her because you don't want her to worry. "Just cold after a bath."

Natasha sets her things down before she takes a seat next to you. Even in the low lighting, she can see your eyes rimmed red and dampness of them.

You're refusing to look at her as you have your knees drawn up to your chest and stare stubbornly at the TV screen.

Then she hears it.

Your stomach grumbles.

"Are you hungry, sweetheart?" Natasha asks softly again. "We can just order food and stay in tonight."

Your cheeks grow hot. "Don't you have to be at the Compound?"

You don't mean to snap at her, but you can't help but feel embarrassed.

Natasha remains quiet for a moment, quickly thinking over the last few weeks before she feels guilt trickle in.

She doesn't remember the last time she ate with you—doesn't remember the last time she saw you eat.

"Sweetheart," she calls you gently again, and you bristle at the tone. "Is there something wrong?"

The fragile dam you've built to keep the weeks of compiling emotions at bay breaks, and you're hurtling down the stream over the waterfall.

"Are you not in love with me anymore?" You choke out as you begin to cry.

You can't even register to feel horrified at your breakdown because you just need to know.

"I know...I know my body has changed since we first met and I've gained weight but I really am trying to lose it. I just—I feel like you're avoiding me. At first, I thought things at work have been really stressful for you, and I wanted to give you space but you're gone all the time. You're gone even when you're here."

Natasha can barely understand anything you've said after hearing you say the first part. Her breath hitches painfully in the back of her throat, and she legitimately feels appalled at herself.

She starts to say something, but you keep going.

"I'm sorry, I don't want to make this about me because if you're going through something then I want to support and be there for you. But I can't help but feel like you're grossed out by me. I mean—I feel grossed out when I look at myself. I feel like I'm taking up so much space—"

Natasha cuts you off abruptly, pulling off the blanket as she pulls at you until you're in her lap.

"Nat—"

"You're not gross and this is not about the weight you have or have not gained. You hear me?" Natasha says forcefully as she holds you close to her, hand over your thigh to keep you against her.

"God, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry if I've been making you feel like you're not attractive me," Natasha's eyes well up as your tears wet her shoulder. "You're literally still the most gorgeous person I've ever met and you're always going to be that to me."

Natasha's hand at your waist dips underneath your hoodie, her fingers trailing up your back as she sighs at your warmth. "I should've told you, but the springtime is just really hard for me. It's odd because it's a time for things to come back to life but some of the worst things have happened to me during the spring and things blooming makes me think about things that aren't coming back. I think it's also just a little bit of seasonal depression too. I'm just the rare percentage that gets it in the spring."

The explanation makes your body sag with relief because while you feel so horrible that there is a reason Natasha doesn't like spring, she's not falling out of love with you.

"I'm sorry, I didn't realize that I was hurting you," Natasha apologizes again. "I didn't mean to be so distant but I didn't want to bring your mood down as well, which is why I've been working so much to keep busy."

"It's okay," you muttered as your turn your head, forehead pressed against her neck. "I'm sorry spring is depressing for you."

Natasha merely hushes you as she kisses the side of your head.

You begin to feel awkward, thinking about how you must be heavy on her and try to move, but Natasha doesn't let you.

"Sweetheart, I don't know how to convince you that you're perfect to me," Natasha says so seriously as she forces you to look at her. "If you want to lose weight because that is what you want, then I support you. But I need you to understand that I love you no matter what. I don't care either way because you're so fucking lovely to me always. Do you understand?"

Timidly, you reply, "Okay. Thank you."

Natasha presses her lips against yours in a long kiss before she pulls back.

"Now, I'm going to ask again. Are you hungry? We can order in and watch that new show on Netflix I heard was pretty good from Wanda."

You feel lighter. You think you might still want to work out because that would make you happy, but you don't feel the rush like you did just a couple of hours ago.

"Yeah," you say shyly. "But maybe something not so heavy?"

Natasha nods as she presses another kiss into your cheek as she helps you settle onto the couch right beside her to grab her phone.

"Anything to make you bloom."

#natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x you #natasha romanoff x y/n #natasha romanoff angst #natasha romanoff imagine #natasha romanoff fanfic #natasha romanoff oneshot #black widow x reader #black widow x you #black widow imagine #avengers imagine #avengers x reader #mm: my fics #g.angst #g.fluff

[lucy90712]

Telling family (pregnancy series)

Series masterlist

George:

Last night me and George decided that we would tell our families about the pregnancy, we have held off for a little while to come to terms with it ourselves and to kind of enjoy it without anyone else knowing even though we are very excited to tell people.

Tomorrow we are going to see my parents so it is the perfect time to tell them I just don't really know how to do it. I don't want to just say it because that feels wrong I feel like it should be more exciting than that so I need to come up with another way which is what I have been doing while scrolling through Pinterest.

I showed George a few ideas to get his opinion but he wasn't keen on any of them until I showed him one that had an ultrasound picture and a little note that was originally covering it. George really liked the idea because it was simple but also gave my parents something to remember the moment by so that's what we chose which we would get together in the morning before we leave.

In the morning I got one of my ultrasound pictures that we didn't have up somewhere and took a small piece of paper writing 'I can't wait to meet you' on it as well as drew a little baby bottle and stuck it over the ultrasound before putting it in a little box.

We got to my parents house and they let us in and we sat down with them for a drink, I thought about telling them right away but I also wanted to have a normal conversation first that wasn't all revolving around the exciting news.

We had a lovely conversation first before I felt like I should tell them, I gave George a look as I went to go and get the box by saying I was going to go to the bathroom which I did because my bladder has been so bad recently but on my way back I grabbed the box. I gave it to my mum and told her to open it but she had to show my dad too.

"I can't wait to meet you what does that mean?" My dad asked

"Lift up the piece of paper" I said

"No way congratulations you two this is so wonderful" my mum said

"Congratulations" my dad added

We all hugged one another before we told them a few more things like how far along I was and they asked what we think we are going to have and other things.

Dream:

Tonight we have been invited to a family dinner at Clay's parents so we have decided to use the opportunity to tell them the exciting news about the pregnancy. Clay has been wanting to tell them so badly for ages but I made him hold off a little bit just until we could be more certain that things were going well because I didn't want to have to break other peoples heats by telling them if things went wrong.

I left it up to clay to decide how he wanted to tell them because after all its his family and as much as I get along super well with them its up to him to decide how he wants to remember this moment.

At his parents house we sat down for dinner and I had to be careful with what I ate so that I didn't start feeling too sick or else that might give somethings away before clay gets chance to do whatever he has planned. The meal came to an end and clay looked like he was getting ready to tell them.

"We have seem news for you, we're expecting" he said

"No way I refuse to believe that this isn't some sort of joke" his mom said

"I can prove it" he said

He grabbed his wallet and pulled out the ultrasound picture that he carries round with him all the time because he just loves it so much. He showed them and they finally believed him and started freaking out, his sister was super excited and asked me a bunch of questions which I was more than happy to answer. It felt nice for someone to finally know and to have someone to be just as excited as us.

Sapnap:

Telling our parents so far has been the worst thing ever. My parents were so angry at both of us but specifically me and now I haven't talked to them since we told them which is the main reason we haven't told Sapnap's parents yet out of fear for the same reaction. Sapnap has assured me that his parents will be much more supportive than mine and will offer any kind of help they can but I'm scared that they will think of me differently. I have to face my fear at some point and that happens to be today. Sapnap is getting me to go to his parents place with him and he is going to tell his parents I'm not sure how but he said he would warn me before he does it.

We hung out with them for a little while before Sapnap squeezed my hand and gave me a look to say he was about to tell them. My hands started to sweat and shake at the same time because of the nerves building up in my body.

"Ok please don't be mad but y/n is pregnant" he said

"Oh wow thats not what I expected" his mom said

"You aren't mad are you?" He asked

"No of course not I mean sure you could have waited but I will support you and the excitement is building" she said

She gave him and me a hug and we showed her pictures we have from ultrasounds and stuff which improved the vibe in the room to one of excitement and not awkwardness.

Quackity:

We have been telling family slowly over the past few weeks whenever we get chance to see them and everyone has been over the moon. The only person left to tell is my grandma who is quite old fashioned so I have a feeling she will be mad at me seeing as me and Alex aren't married which makes it even more nerve wracking.

I'm going to see her this afternoon and Alex is going to join me when he finishes working on a video so he can be there to face the lecture with me. My grandma is a lovely lady and I love to spend time with her but she sure can be scary when she's telling you off.

Alex arrived about an hour after I did and we sat down to eat some cake my grandma had made because she insists that I eat whenever I go and visit her. After she was satisfied that I had eaten enough I got a chance to tell her.

"Grandma I have something to show you" I said

"Oh what is it?" She asked

I showed her a few ultrasound pictures that we have

"What are these?" She asked

"They are my ultrasound pictures" I explained

"That's wonderful dear I'm very happy for you when do I get to meet them" she said

I answered all her questions and she did mention if we planned to get married but she wasn't at all mad which surprised me but I guess my parents have talked to her a few times about how society has changed.

Karl:

Karl's mom is coming over for dinner today so I've been in the kitchen the past few hours preparing and cooking a meal for all of us trying to make it perfect because we are going to use this opportunity to tell his mom about the pregnancy and I want it to be a memorable moment for both of them.

His mom arrived and we had a lovely dinner which turned out pretty good from how little I know about cooking. Karl was so happy and kept squeezing my hand under the table or just giggling like he normally does when he gets happy. After dinner we invited his mom to stay over for a bit to just kind of chill with us which is when Karl got ready to tell her.

"Mom are you ready to be a grandma?" Karl asked

"Wait is y/n pregnant?" She questioned

"Yeah she is" Karl confirmed

She was incredibly happy mainly because she has always jokingly asked when she is going to get grandchildren or when we are going to get married so for it to actually be happening made her really happy.

Wilbur:

This weekend me and Wilbur are going to visit his parents and to just get away for the weekend, they don't know about the pregnancy yet because Wilbur wanted to tell them in person so we are going to tell them this weekend.

We spent all of Saturday and most of Sunday just chilling with his parents so that we could spend time with them without the focus being on other things but when it got to the evening Wilbur started fidgeting so I knew he was getting nervous. I took hold of his hand and squeezed it to reassure him.

"We have some news for you" Wilbur started

"What is it?" His mum asked

"Y/n's pregnant" he said

"Oh wow I didn't expect that but congratulations" they said

Safe to say they were very surprised because they knew we weren't planning to have kids yet but once they saw that we were excited they got excited too. I showed them some ultrasound pictures of our little bean and gave them one to keep.

#georgenotfound x reader #georgenotfound #george x reader #george #gnf #dream team #dreamteam #dream #dream x reader #sapnap #sapnap x reader #quackityhq x reader #quackityhq #quackity #quackity x reader #karl #karl jacobs #karl jacobs x reader #wilbur soot x reader #wilbur soot #wilbur #wilbur x reader #mcyt #dsmp

[soulmate-game]

Finally another oneshot, after forever and a day. I’m weak for soulmate AUs. I think most of you know that already.

SO WHY NOT ANOTHER?! WOO!

This one is based on a prompt given to me a hella long time ago, idk who sent it to me. Tell me who you are so I can credit you! I wrote down the prompt for me to remember, it’s something like; “You can write letters to your soulmate, and they travel through time either to a moment your soulmate needs the letter most or to a random point in time to them.”

—*—*—*—*—*

Dear Myself.

I’m doing this for school. We have to write letters to our future self. I am nine years old right now, the year is 2009. I hope you found a cool job! I don’t know what to do yet. I like drawing though! Science is icky, so I hope you’re not a scientist. But if you are, and if it makes us happy, then I guess it’s okay. Be the best scientist you can! If you are all moved out, did you ever get a pet hamster? Hamsters are so cute!

Oh, but most important. Yesterday, I was bullied by my Arch Enemy. You know who. Yeah. Anyway, she said some mean things and it just reminded me that sometimes life hurts, and people can hurt you real bad. But life is still pretty. A family of robins made a nest on my terrace outside my room, and I saw them after I was done crying. They are so cute, and made me happy again. So, always look for your family of robins to keep you happy, I guess. Life isn’t bad, even if some things and people are. I hope you remember that. Keep believing in yourself, and in others!

Marinette Dupain-Cheng (from the past).

Do not open this letter before 2020! Pretty please!

Shaking hands held the letter. It was written two years ago, but he only could have gotten it now. It just appeared on his desk out of nowhere. At first, he thought it was some sick joke. He had just moved to Gotham again, and none of his—

None of them knew he was back. But he recognized this handwriting. He had gotten exactly one letter from them before, written by an older version of this woman and received by him when he was ten. Not long after being taken in by Bruce Wayne. The letter back then had been short, precise. Comforting.

Hello there.

I am writing this in the year 2018. You see, I found out quite a while ago that my soulmate bond is unique. It sends letters to you that I write, from all across time. I can get your letters, too, so don’t hesitate to write to me if you need to vent. My letters might not always reach you in time to feel like a normal response, but I’ll keep writing if you do. I know your life isn’t easy, if the letters I’ve already gotten mean anything. But keep fighting. I know what it’s like to be the underdog. But I’m rooting for you.

Marinette Dupain-Cheng, New Adult.

Jason’s hands crumpled the two pieces of paper in them, the older of the two already close to crumbling away. They had buried him with it, resurrected him with it. It had seen hell and back just like him, but he still kept it. Even with blurring ink and ripped edges and blood stains. The writing and names matched, even if his newer letter was written in the clumsy scrawl of a child. The nuances in the handwriting were still the same.

She would still be writing to him. This new letter he got was clearly the first, before she knew about her soulmate or how her letters would disappear after she wrote them just like his did. But 2009? It just sank into him, that she was younger than he was. By seven years.

But her words still kept him afloat better than any lecture from that asshole Bruce.

He couldn’t see her yet. Not any time soon, really. He was already eighteen, dead and resurrected, and she was barely eleven. He could wait.

She didn’t need somebody as screwed and dark as him right now, anyway. A murderer, a budding crime boss. If she needed someone killed for her, or someone to save her, he’d be there. Otherwise?

Jason took out the receipt from his last visit to a gas station for cigarettes, grabbed a sharpie from his desk, and began to write.

Yo, Mari.

I’m writing this in 2011. I got your first letter. Thanks. It reminded me of some good times. I’m sorry I didn’t write anything for five years. Stuff happened. I won’t write often. Not until I’m in a better place. But if you need it, you can vent to me too. Also, don’t look at the back of this receipt. This was the only paper I could find.

Jason T., Your Soulmate.

—*—*—*—*—*

Marinette, nine years old, stared down at the receipt that had taken the place of her letter to herself. She recognized that it was written in English, but she couldn’t read it yet. But that was okay, her Papan and Maman could read English!

She ran down, holding it in her hands tightly. She didn’t want the mystery letter to disappear! She handed it to her parents, who were in the middle of making croissants and stared at her for a moment. And then they broke into a flurry of movement.

“Why do you have a receipt for cigarettes, Marinette?!” Sabine yelled, confused more than angry. How would her daughter get a receipt written in English? And after giving her parents a confused head tilt, Marinette explained.

“It just appeared, like, poof!” She moved her hands to illustrate her point. “I was writing my letter to my future self for school, which is gone now oh no! Mlle. is going to be so mad!”

“Mari, focus,” Tom prodded gently, laying a hand on her shoulder. “You were writing your letter, and then what?”

Marinette took a deep breath. “Well, I finished it and put it in a little envelope. But as soon as I put it down and was all done, it shimmered red and faded away! This showed up in the same place my letter had been, like they were traded!”

Tom and Sabine shared a glance, and her mom held out her hand. “Can I read it, Marinette? I promise I won’t take it away. Your father and I just want to see what it says. We’ll read it to you.”

Marinette nodded eagerly, and after making sure their dough was put away the family of bakers moved to their living room and the little girl sat on her father’s lap as her mother held the note for them to see and read it aloud.

The parents shared another glance.

“Wow!” Marinette exclaimed happily, bouncing in place. “He sounds so cool! He is my soulmate? Really? I wonder what he looks like!” Her eyes took on a dreamy quality as she began to daydream. “I bet he’s super handsome! And nice and strong and—“

“Mari,” Tom said gently, tugging one pigtail playfully to get his daughter’s attention. She turned her large blue eyes to him, rapt with attentiveness. “I know this is exciting, but you know that not all soulmates are romantic, right?”

Marinette instantly calmed down, eyebrows pinching together. “But— but Nino said that soulmates are people you will marry in the future. Your perfect person. Like you and Maman,” she argued, incredibly confused. Her Maman chuckled, handing Marinette her receipt-letter back.

“Yes, but sometimes a person doesn’t need romance the most. Sometimes, what a person needs most is a friend or another family member. So sometimes, a soulmate is a big sister or brother instead, or another Maman or Papan. And we think that your soulmate might be the big brother kind,” she explained patiently. Marinette’s confusion instantly changed to excitement again, eyes sparkling with starry amazement.

“Really? How can you tell?”

“Well,” Tom took over, tapping the receipt with one finger. This receipt is from America. Over there, you have to be eighteen to buy cigarettes. Which means that, two years from now, your soulmate is already eighteen.”

“Or he better be, anyway,” Sabine growled, eyes narrowed dangerously.

“But even if he isn’t,” Tom nervously glanced over at his wife and back to his daughter. “The way he writes is too grown up for someone close to your age. He is probably several years older than you—“

“At least seven, if he knows what’s good for him,” Sabine interrupted again. Tom just chuckled and shook his head.

“But still. Are you okay with him not being a romantic soulmate, Nettie?”

Marinette jumped off of her dad’s lap, hugging her note to her chest with one of the biggest smiles either of her parents had ever seen on her face.

“Are you kidding? I’ve always wanted a big brother! I bet he’s so cool, and rides a motorcycle and beats up bad guys! And when we meet, we’ll go out for ice cream and he’ll ruffle my hair, and let me ride on his shoulders, and it’ll be so awesome!”

Sabine finally lost her threatening aura, laughing along with her daughter. “Well, I don’t know about the whole beating up bad guys thing. But it sounds like he might need some cheering up, so you should write him letters pretty often. You never know when he might need one the most.”

Marinette nodded seriously, eyes shining with determination now. “That’s right! I have to be the best soulmate-sister ever! I’ll start writing him another letter right now!” She instantly turned to run back up to her room, but her dad’s voice followed her:

“Marinette! You haven’t eaten dinner yet!”

—*—*—*—*—*

The next day, Jason came back to his base to see another letter. It was on special scrapbook paper, a pretty white with a heart-and-stars border. He found himself snorting despite himself, shaking his head and picking up the girly letter.

Hello, Jason!

I just got your letter! It’s still 2009, and my parents were worried about the cigarats. I wanted to learn English first, but Maman and Papan reminded me that you have to be able to read French if you were able to read my past letters (I wonder what I wrote you! My future self must be real smart). Maman says you better be 18, or else she’ll kick your butt. She didn’t say that exactly, but I could tell.

Jason snickered at that. She must have a pretty fun family.

Maman and Papan also said that you’re probably a Big Brother soulmate. That’s super cool! I’ve always wanted an older brother, but it’s just me. I get lonely sometimes. And Maman thinks I have a big imagination, so help me prove her wrong! I bet her that you’re suuuuuuper cool, and have a motorcycle and beat up criminals! She doesn’t think my soulmate would be a hero, but I think you are. I don’t even know you yet, but I just feel it. And even if you don’t beat up bad guys, that’s fine. You’ll still protect me like a big brother should, right? And we’ll go and eat ice cream and talk about the stuff we like when we finally meet. And I’ll protect you too. I know little sisters aren’t supposed to, but I will totally protect you anyway. If you’re sad, I’ll make you macaroons and read you a bedtime story. That always makes me happy.

Please write back soon!

Marinette Dupain-Cheng (from the past still!)

Jason couldn’t help it, and maybe the Lazarus magic had a bit of sway on him still, but he laughed raucously. A deep, belly-shaking bellow. His soulmate sure was a character! And scarily intuitive. How did she guess such accurate things about him? It was hilarious.

But he wouldn’t write back today. Not yet. He held no illusions; he wasn’t brother material. Not now, and probably not for a while if ever. Which reminded him, he had a replacement to kill.

—*—*—*—*—*

The Replacement lived, but at least Batman had gotten the message. Meanwhile, letters from Little Mari, as he had started calling her in his head, had started piling up. He read every single one, but didn’t respond to any. It was all the usual stuff. Talking about her day, asking stuff about him, spouting advice that seemed way too insightful for a nine-year-old.

He kept every single one. Soon, 2009 letters turned into 2010 letters. She switched from writing almost every day to once a week.

By then, Jason had reconciled with Bruce for the most part. After a few attempts on his life, but that wasn’t important. It was then, as he sat down in the living room watching Tim, Dick, Bruce, and the newest hellion Damian, all talking with and teasing one another that he finally got the urge to write again. So he asked for paper, and Alfred brought him a notepad and a plain ballpoint pen. And, for the first time in over a year, he started writing.

Dick and Bruce noticed first, stopping their banter to stare. Dick smiled softly, his shoulders relaxing as he let himself slump over the sofa’s arm a bit. Tim furrowed his eyebrows, and Damian frowned.

“What are you doing, Todd?” The young hellion asked, but Jason barely heard him.

“Nonya business, squirt,” he replied absently. Bruce chuckled fondly, beckoning to his two youngest sons. They both came a bit closer, and Bruce smiled at them conspiratorially. He leaned forward and whispered:

“Jason’s soulbond allows any letters that he writes to travel through time to his Bonded, and vice versa. Back before… everything, he used to write a letter to her almost every day.”

“It’s really sweet. We lined up the dates, and we think that she’s around your age Damian,” Dick added in equally softly. “Probably a familial bond. It’s good that he’s writing to her again.”

—*—*—*—*—*

Marinette was twelve the next time she got a letter from Jason. But, unlike the last one, this one came from the past. And it was written in French.

Hi, Marinette!

I guess I’m your soulmate. I got your letter from 2018. It’s 2005 when I’m writing this. I’m twelve years old right now, but that shouldn’t matter. It was a little surprising when I got a letter written in French out of nowhere! Luckily, I speak a lot of languages. I love learning languages, and reading is probably my favorite thing to do. Don’t tell anyone though! I have my bad-boy image to keep up. I think our soulbond is really cool actually, and maybe we can teach each other stuff if we do this right. I know the whole time-traveling-letters thing makes it hard to reply to each other like normal. From now on, I’ll write you these letters in English and translate them in French on the back. That way, you can read it whenever you want and also learn English if you don’t already know it when you get this letter.

Oh, and I think I’m older than you? In real time, I mean. If you’re a “new adult” in 2018, then you’re probably a few years younger than me. I was born in 1993. You can do the math, since I don’t know when you were born. Anyway! I’ll keep writing you as often as I can and hope that you get these letters when you need them most.

Jason T., Excited Tween.

Marinette laughed, running down to show her mom. She was only writing Jason once a month now, but in the midst of this first letter she had received in three years, her determination was relit. It was just the letters being dumb when they flew through time! No way he was done writing to her. Right?

“Maman! Maman, he really was eighteen when he wrote that first letter! You don’t have to kill him!”

—*—*—*—*—*

Marinette stared at the pile of letters on her desk, sighing. She ran a hand through her hair. She hadn’t been able to bring herself to read them yet, but she knew they were each dated from 2005. Apparently they had both decided to write daily when they had first discovered their Bond.

“Marinette,” the familiar voice of Tikki spoke you, the little Kwami floating over to land on her holder’s shoulder. “You should read them. Your bond wouldn’t give you letters you don’t need.”

Marinette took a deep breath, rubbing her already sore and red eyes. “I know. But what if—“

Tikki grabbed the letter at the bottom of the pile, flying over and handing it to the pigtailed girl. She smiled gently. “Read it. No what-ifs. Just read for now, Marinette.”

The newest Ladybug sighed, but acquiesced. She sat down at her desk, and began to read. Only two months as Ladybug, and already the pressure was becoming too much.

Two hours later, she had caught up and her mood was considerably better. Jason’s life was definitely no cake walk, but his humor bled through the more concerning details and helped bring light to Marinette’s day. Slowly, one by one, she folded the letters and put them in her special locked box inside her “diary”. She tried to keep a real diary once, but quickly stopped when she realized that even “dear diary” counted as a letter and sent itself to Jason.

She pulled out one of her special pieces of stationary paper and her favorite pink gel pen. For a while she stared at the paper, out of practice after a few months of not writing to him, but eventually she was able to begin again.

Hey Jason.

It’s 2013. I’m 13. I’m pretty sure you got the point by now, it’s not hard to figure out what year I was born. I haven’t responded to any of your letters in a while, but I guess that doesn’t matter. It’s not like I know if you’re gonna get this right away anyway.

So. Uh. Things have changed. I’m only thirteen, but I feel so old you know? On the bright side, your letters really did help me learn English. I mean, you probably guessed that since I’m writing this whole thing in English.

I guess I should explain. A little. A lot has happened. I suddenly have so many responsibilities, and it’s really hard to keep up with it all. So much has changed in just a few months, I feel like I’m going crazy. I’m keeping secrets from Maman and Papan now, which hurts the most. I can’t tell them, I can’t even tell you, but I’m not used to this. I don’t like lying. I don’t even know why any of this happened in the first place, I want answers and I’m getting radio silence. It sucks. But your letters from 2005 really helped, so thanks. I just got them this past year, which is really weird because I remember that our letters time travel and I feel crazy again. But this is real. Our Bond is real, and maybe writing you will help me remember that. Help me focus a bit.

Anyway, that’s all I can think of right now. I’ll try to write you again sometime this week if I have time. We’ll see.

Marinette Dupain-Cheng, Unsure Teenager.

—*—*—*—*—*

As soon as Jason finished his letter, pretending he couldn’t feel Bruce, Dick, Tim, and Damian all spying on him from their own spots around the living room, the papers he wrote on shimmered red and vanished. In their place, a piece of tea-colored scrapbook paper with a decorative robin-and-egg border (he would never know how she could be so obliviously on point with the designs she chose), popped into existence. He blinked, snatching it up and looking it over. His eyes widened.

“It’s only from next year,” he said aloud, for the benefit of the nosy assholes sharing the room with him. “That’s the closest any of our letters have been to one another,” and then Jason’s eyes promptly went serious as she actually read what the paper said.

“Jay?” Dick asked after the man had been silent too long. Jason grunted, his eyes briefly shimmering green before he shook it away. He took a few deep breaths, and finally responded by standing up and handing the paper over to them.

“Something happens next year that fucks with her. All of the letters I’ve gotten from her, besides that first one back when I was still Robin, were from before this. 2009 to 2010. I even got a few from last year, not that long ago. She’s always upbeat and happy and never said anything about any concerning things besides some schoolyard bullying. This isn’t at all like her. The tone is off.”

“Well, it’s not like you’ve actually met her yet Jason,” Tim tried to console him, rereading the paper to make sure he didn’t miss anything. “This could be something mundane. A new school, or an issue with friends or something.”

Jason grit his teeth. “It isn’t. I don’t know how I know, but my gut is telling me it’s more than that. B, I want us to keep an eye on Paris. Something big happens next year, I know it.”

Bruce sighed, rubbing his forehead. “Funnily enough, I agree with you. Alfred, can you get up a monitoring system? we’ll keep it automatic until next year actually hits, and then I want someone personally checking up on Paris news at least once a month. Just in case.”

—*—*—*—*—*

It was a year into HawkMoth. Marinette hadn’t written a single letter to Jason, but she kept getting the ones he wrote in 2005. When those ran out, she only had two from 2006 before they suddenly leapt to 2012. She guessed that that was because of the five year gap he had mentioned in his first letter, the infamous cigarette receipt.

She sat in her chair, reading the only two 2012 letters so far, the second of which had conveniently landed on her desk that morning. The first had arrived months ago, but she gave it a reread anyway.

yo, Mari.

I’m sorry I haven't written anything else after that horrible receipt, I was getting my life sorted out. things are better now. I have three annoying brothers, by the way. I told you about Dick, I think, in my early letters. Now I have two younger brothers too, Tim and Damian. Damian is a little shit, but oddly enough I think you’d like him. Oh yeah, I’m writing this in 2012 by the way. And yes, this small notepad paper was all I had. Don’t judge me. I guess I’ll answer some questions, to make up for my lack of letters lately. More up to date than what I told you back when I was a naive little kid anyway.

Yes, I have a motorcycle. It is my baby, and I have no idea how nine-year-old you was able to guess stuff about me so accurately. I am most definitely a bad boy, and I have five different leather jackets that I love to death. I’m trying to quit smoking. It’s bad for your lungs kid, don’t follow my example there. Also, I am so fucking proud of your taste in music. I know I had no sway in it, but the fact that Jagged Stone is your favorite musician instills so much older brother pride in me you don’t even know. My dad (You remember how I said I’m adopted, right? yeah that asshole. Don’t tell him I actually love him, but he’s still an asshole), he grew up with Jagged actually. He still refers to him as Jared, it’s surreal. I will definitely let you ride on my shoulders, even if you’re an adult when we meet. I give no shits. And ice cream is mandatory. Officially. I’m making it mandatory right now.

I hope you’re doing okay when this gets to you, Mari. And keep designing, the sketches you sent me were awesome! That’s some real talent. Don’t let it go to waste if it’s something you love.

Alright, the Doofuses are still staring at me so I better go before one of them snoops and sees the sappy stuff I wrote about them. You are sworn to secrecy about it too, Cupcake. No blabbing.

Jason Todd, Finally Kinda Okay.

Marinette chuckled at that, then put it aside to read the new one from that morning. It was shorter.

Marinette!

I just read your letter from 2013, holy shit let this reach you not long after that. You remember that 2012 letter where I was sappy about my family and shit? I hope you got that one first or else this is gonna be confusing. Anyway, this was written that same day. Are You Okay? If shit gets too bad, for whatever reason, you can always contact me. I know this damn letter thing won’t let me give you a specific way to contact me, not for lack of trying damn it, but I’ll say this: Bruce Wayne isn’t hard to get a hold of. Find a way to contact him if you need my help, and I will be close behind. He knows how to contact me. No matter what, Cupcake. I don’t care if you think you’re being stupid or dramatic or whatever lies run through your head. Contact him if you need it, and I will come to help you. I promise. Being thirteen sucks, trust me I know, so let me help you.

Jason Todd, Worried As Hell.

Marinette huffed, shaking her head. She wanted to take him up on that offer, but she couldn’t. She had just met the Guardian not too long ago, and he had made it clear that she couldn’t tell anybody about being Ladybug. Not even Jason. She needed to deal with this alone.

Scenes of bloated bodies filled her mind, all the people who had died just the previous day because of Siren. She had had to swim through so many corpses. So many dead, of all ages.

She rushed out onto her balcony, taking in deep breaths of fresh air and letting the sun’s rays warm her up and slowly bring her out of the haze of burning memory. She was fourteen already. She could handle this. Her childhood had died the moment she had been given the Earrings, ripped away from her too early. Her old self had died. Now she was Ladybug, she was Marinette Dupain-Cheng and she was responsible for the fate of even more than just Paris. She couldn’t let herself fall. Not now, not ever.

The loud roaring of a motorcycle made her jump, and she ran to her railing just in time to see a gorgeous black and red bike come to a tire-screeching halt on the street right under her. The biker, she could tell he was large and covered head to toe in corded muscle even from her spot high above his head, slowly took off his helmet. Black hair with stark white bangs came into view, and startlingly deep blue eyes met hers. Marinette’s breath hitched; it was him. She could tell, his mere eye contact made her feel safe and warm and like… like home had found her. He gave her a roguish grin.

“Come on, Cupcake! I believe I promised you a shoulder ride and ice cream. And you gotta keep me from beating a certain old man into a bloody pulp!”

He knew. Marinette smiled widely, a laugh tearing itself from her throat. Hysteric, overjoyed, free. He knew, and it was okay. She didn’t even have to tell him. She took a few steps back, and then vaulted straight over her railing.

“Catch!”

Jason threw his helmet to the side, running forward just in time for her to land safely in his arms. He glared down at her, but his eyes held no heat. “That was incredibly reckless. I shouldn't be proud, but I am. Don’t do that ever again.”

Marinette giggled. “No promises.”

Jason set her down, picking up his helmet before opening the storage on his bike and tossing her a smaller, pink one. “Sorry it took so long. I wanted to come last year, as soon as I figured out what had made you send that concerning letter, but I was told that I would be an instant Akuma. But after what happened yesterday…” Jason shook his head solemnly. “I knew you’d need a break. Come on, Gotham actually has some amazing ice cream.”

“How are we gonna get to Gotham right away? how did you..?”

Marinette paused, Jason keeping his motorcycle’s storage open just long enough for her to see his Red Hood helmet.

“We got portals for that,” he responded nonchalantly, nobody was nearby to overhear anyway. Marinette looked up when he closed the storage compartment, putting her helmet on.

“Well. Then I’m glad you actually took my rant on the Gotham vigilantes to heart and used my designs, because your old mask was disgustingly ugly.”

Jason rolled his eyes, and waited until she was behind him on the bike before revving it and replying;

“Trust me, I know your feelings on it. Demon Spawn and Replacement teamed up to steal that letter and made copies. Now one is pinned to the fridge and I spent another several hours cleaning up the ones they posted over every inch of my apartment walls.”

“... I approve.”

#ml x dc #maribat #marinette #jasonette #platonic jasonette #mlb x dc #marinette dupain cheng #soulmate au #oneshot #Maribat 2020

[nyxshadowhawk]

The Lady of the Labyrinth

My entry for @dionysia-ta-astika's City Dionysia contest! I'm very proud of myself for having finished it in a week, and I thought I'd share it here on my own blog.

Hail Dionysus!

*** Everything was lost. My brother was dead. My love was gone.

I was also stranded on a deserted island. I stared out at the vast, empty expanse of the sea. The sunlight on the waves winked at me with a thousand eyes, as though diamonds had been scattered across the surface of the water. Anyone would find this beach tranquil, I suppose, if they were here under different circumstances than mine.

My brother’s name was Asterion.

Most people didn’t know his name, or even that he had one. To most people, he was the Minotaur, a horrible monster with the body of a man and the head of a bull that eats people. Asterion was a monster, and he did eat people.

Beneath my father’s shining palace, he prowled the twists and turns of the Labyrinth that my father’s genius architect built. The Labyrinth was mine, once. Daedalus made it for me as a dancing path, when I was a little girl. But now it is a dark, disorienting maze of seemingly endless passageways, and I was still the only person who knew how to navigate it. When I could have time alone, I would go to the Labyrinth. I felt my way through its pitch-black corridors, memorizing the nicks and cracks in the rough stone, trying to calm my thoughts. I spoke to Asterion through the walls: “You have never seen the sun,” I said to him. “Do you ever wonder what it’s like in the outside world? Or do you like it down here?” I received no answer from the surrounding darkness. If I did hear something — a snort, or hooves on stone, I would have to run as fast as I could away from the sound. Even I couldn’t go too near Asterion — I wouldn’t want to run the risk that he might attack me.

“Why do you go down there?” My sister, Phaedra, asked me. “What could possibly be appealing about that dark, dismal place?”

“I like it down there,” I said, trying to sound as matter-of-fact as I could. “It is peaceful. And I don’t mind the dark.”

She looked at me like I had suddenly sprouted bull’s horns myself. “You know you risk your life every time you enter the Labyrinth, right?”

“He’s our brother,” I said. I don’t know what I intended to explain by saying that. I felt like I had a responsibility to him that extended beyond simply being his sister. I tried to see a man in him, although he sniffed and bellowed and charged like a bull. He could gore me to death like a bull, but I did not fear him. “I can’t say I love him, but I feel something.”

“You shouldn’t feel any sympathy for him. He’s a freak of nature. The gods cursed us with him for our father’s arrogance. He is a shame upon our kingdom.”

She was right, of course. The gods gifted us a beautiful white bull that we were meant to sacrifice to Poseidon, but my father decided to keep it instead. And Poseidon cursed us… Asterion is the unholy offspring of my mother and the bull. And it gets worse. Every seven years, seven young men and seven young women from the city of Athens were brought to the Labyrinth to be fed to my brother. This was because my other brother, whom I was too young to remember, died while in Athens. Athens pays for this slight with the lives of other young people.

I suppose it’s no different than war, or at least, that’s what my father says. All cities send their youths to die for the polis. How was this any different? I could hardly bear the prisoners’ wails of desperation or their pleas for me to help them. When I heard they were coming, I begged my father to set them free, asserting that it was wrong to sacrifice humans to anything. If the gods had cast Tantalus into Tartarus for feeding them his son, then why should we knowingly feed humans to a monster? He laughed at me and asked why I had no pride in my family.

I hated the thought of the fourteen young people being fed to him, but I also couldn’t imagine killing my own brother, even if he was a monster.

I was too young to remember the last time the prisoners came to the Labyrinth. They had come, and my brother had gorged himself on their flesh, and I was none the wiser. This time, I knew, and the horror of it struck me silent as the tributes were paraded through the city like animal sacrifices to the gods, so that we could all see those who were doomed to die. I could hardly bear to look at them. Some of those girls were barely older than me. It felt wrong to sit by and watch as they were brought to the Labyrinth. But what could I do to save their lives? Supplicating my father would not work, and the only other option was helping them to escape, somehow. How could I do that?

In spite of myself, I caught sight of one of the young men. He was handsome, and he had a defiant, blazing look in his eye. He looked straight at my father on his throne. “I am Theseus of Athens!” he declared. “I have come to slay your monstrous son!”

My father had laughed at him, but he consumed my thoughts. That may be because he was absolutely gorgeous, but it was also because if he succeeded at killing Asterion, he would solve all my problems. I wouldn’t have to take my own brother’s life, but he would devour no more innocent lives. And, if this youth survived, he might take me away with him. I knew the Labyrinth better than anyone. Even if he did survive, he could never make it in and out without my help.

Forgive me, Asterion.

The prisoners were held in two dank cells near the entrance to the Labyrinth. The women were kept in one, and the men were kept in the other. Many of the prisoners were crying — not just the women, but the men, too. In my familiarity with the Labyrinth and its inhabitant, I had forgotten just how terrifying both would be to anyone else. The Labyrinth’s darkness and maddening complexity would intimidate anyone, and the prospect of being eaten by a monster within its depths was horrific.

Only Theseus seemed calm. His boldness in front of my father hadn’t been an act. His jaw was set, and he still had raw determination in his steely eyes. He was really going to do it, wasn’t he? He actually meant to kill Asterion. He shone like gold in the gloom of the dungeon — he could have been Apollo. If our circumstances were different, I might have wanted to stroke his chest. “Who are you?” he demanded when I approached the cell, as though I were the one behind bars, and had requested an audience with him.

“I am Ariadne,” I said, “daughter of Minos, princess of Crete.”

“I am Theseus, son of Aegeus, prince of Athens,” he returned.

Prince of Athens. That explained his noble bearing and proud mien, not to mention his handsome features… and yet… “There is no way the King of Athens would have sent his own son to be fed to the Minotaur,” I said. “Why are you really here?”

“I said, didn’t I? I’m here to slay the Minotaur. I volunteered as tribute.” He smirked. “I promised my father that I would return alive. No more of our people will be sacrificed to the monster!”

“You speak with a lot of confidence for someone who is currently in a prison cell,” I said. “What are you going to do, Theseus? Do you have a plan?”

“Of course I have a plan!” he said, a little defensively. “I am going to break out of this cell. And then I will conquer the Labyrinth—”

“How? You’ll be dead of starvation before you even reach the Minotaur, assuming he doesn’t find you first.”

His eyes narrowed. “Are you taunting me?”

I leaned forward, looking directly into his eyes. “No. I was actually going to offer to help you. I know the Labyrinth. I go into it all the time.”

“No, you don’t. You’re trying to get me to sleep with you. Or trying to deceive me on behalf of Minos.”

I opened my mouth to speak, but couldn’t find anything to say in response to that. For a moment I just stared at him. Was he always this self-assured, even in the worst of circumstances? If he wanted to sleep with me, I certainly wouldn’t complain, but why would he assume that I would deceive him? Well, perhaps it was his right to be suspicious, in a strange land where he was kept as a prisoner. “I… no,” I finally replied. “I’m being serious. I’m here to help you.”

“Why, then?”

“I think it is very noble of you to want to save the other Athenians, and I agree that no more innocent lives should be lost.”

He smiled slightly, but still looked suspicious. “You have no loyalty to your father?”

“My father is cruel and selfish. Why else do you think my mother gave birth to a monster, anyway?”

“The monster is your brother? What was his father, a bull?”

“Yes.”

That seemed to have stunned him into silence. I felt some satisfaction at that. “Listen to me. Without my help, you will not get through the Labyrinth. If you want to kill the Minotaur, you need me.”

“What’s the catch?” he asked. “You’re going to want something in return, aren’t you? What?”

“Take me off this accursed rock,” I said. “I am sick of Crete, I’m sick of my father, and I don’t want to have to put up with whatever punishment he might give me for helping you.”

“Well, you are a princess, and I suppose you would make a fine bride for me.”

My heart leapt at those words, and I felt myself blushing. Perhaps I should have known better. “Really? You would marry me?”

“If you help me to slay the Minotaur, then yes, I will marry you.”

“Deal.”

Theseus remained in my thoughts from that point onward. When I closed my eyes, I saw his face, and I imagined the feel of his skin. I’d never seen a man like him before, and oh, if I married him… would I be happy? Happier than I was here, at least? He seemed like the kind of man that Phaedra and I dreamed we would marry as young girls — strong, brave, handsome, and willing to put himself on the line for the sake of his people. All such admirable qualities.

I returned to Theseus when the prisoners were locked into the Labyrinth’s abyssal maw. “Everyone else, stay back!” he ordered, as though he were directing troops. “I will go into the Labyrinth and kill the Minotaur. Stay here, and you will be safe.” He suddenly turned to me. “What have you brought to help me?”

I held out a humble ball of yarn. “This.”

He took it from my hand and raised an eyebrow at it, looking as though he might throw it into the dark. “What am I supposed to do with this?”

“Daedalus gave it to me when I first started exploring the Labyrinth.”

“Daedalus? I’ve heard of Daedalus. He is supposed to be the most brilliant architect in the world, right?”

“He built this Labyrinth, and he gave me the yarn. All you have to do is tie the end here and carry it through the maze. Then you can follow it back out.”

Theseus looked impressed. “He must be a genius to have thought of something like that!”

He may have been a genius, but I was still intelligent enough to figure it out on my own. All Daedalus had done was hand me the ball of yarn, and I immediately understood what I was meant to do with it. But I didn’t bother correcting Theseus. “Do you have a weapon?”

“No,” said Theseus. “I’m not worried. I’ll kill the beast with my bare hands.”

I blinked at him, dumbfounded. I suppose if anyone could do it, he could; he was almost as musclebound as the bull-man. But still. Only an extremely impressive hero with divine lineage could hope to kill a monster bare-handed, that or a total idiot. “You are going to die.”

“Nonsense!” He smiled. “Haven’t died yet! And I have faced many deadly trials before.”

I smiled back. “I’m sure you have, but, well, it’s your funeral.”

“Do you want this monster dead, or not?” he demanded.

“Woah, I wasn’t being serious, I…” To be asked that question point-blank was unsettling. It threw my whole dilemma into focus. But seeing the terrified faces of the other tributes huddled naked in the entrance to the Labyrinth gave me my answer. “Yes.”

“I shall go then.” He tied the yarn to the gate and strode with it into the dark. I admired his confidence, even if the odds were against him. He turned the first corner, and was gone. I stared into the darkness for a moment.

One of the girls gripped the hem of my dress. “Please,” she whispered. “Please help us, my lady. We did nothing to be here. If he dies, will you help us escape?”

I didn’t look at her. I kept staring into the Labyrinth’s depths. “I will do what I can,” I said slowly. Then I followed Theseus. I heard her gasp behind me, as if her last hope had just walked away.

I overtook Theseus quickly. He was moving slowly, blindly hitting walls and getting disoriented by the serpentine turns. He jumped when he heard me behind him, turned on his heel and braced for attack, staring me down with the intensity of a bull about to charge. Then he softened. “Oh. It’s you. What are you doing here? I don’t need your help.”

“I know this place better than you do,” I said matter-of-factly.

He huffed in response. “Get back to the entrance. The Minotaur could arrive at any moment.”

I walked ahead of him. “I know. Every time I explore the Labyrinth, I risk death.”

“Why would you explore this place?” he asked, following me. “What could it possibly offer a girl like you?”

“Peace. Solitude. Time away from my father.”

“This Labyrinth is maddening!” His growing frustration echoed off the walls. “How are you not mad? Perhaps you are mad, with the things you say.”

“I’ve never considered that I might be mad.”

“Only if you were mad would you willingly choose to be in this dark prison.”

“You willingly chose to be here.”

He had no response. We walked in silence for a while, dragging the thread behind us. It was almost impossible to see the thread in the dark. I could tell that Theseus was starting to get agitated. The twining paths of the Labyrinth must be making him feel like we were making no progress. The grim silence and high stone walls made us feel completely cut off from the outside world, like there was no world at all beyond the Labyrinth. “Do you think this is what Hades is like?” he asked. “A deep cavern, under the earth, where there is nothing to do but walk endlessly?”

I couldn’t tell whether that was a sincere philosophical question, or whether he was asking indignantly. “I don’t know. The Fields of Asphodel are supposed to be open, and full of the white flowers… Not quite like this.”

“It makes no difference to me anyway. I will assuredly go to Elysium when I die, and it is the most agreeable part of Hades.”

If Hades is exactly like this, I thought, then perhaps it wouldn’t be so bad. There are worse things than this.

Eventually, we passed the point where I usually turned back. I had never gotten this close to the center before. And then we heard it — the unmistakable sound of hooves. Cold terror gripped me. I did not expect to feel this afraid, especially not of my own brother, but the reality of the situation sank in. We were in a Labyrinth with a flesh-eating monster, and the exit was too far away for any chance of escape. Why did I follow him? Why did I think that was a good idea?

“Our quarry is upon us! You should leave,” said Theseus sternly. “The monster eats the maidens first, so I hear.”

The instinct to run left me. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“Suit yourself, but you will not be able to fight against the Minotaur.”

“You will protect me, will you?” Being with him felt safe, like he was a bodyguard.

“I will.” As soon as he said that, my fear was banished, and my confidence restored.

A few more turns, and we reached the center of the Labyrinth, a place I figured I’d never enter. In the gloom, I couldn’t actually see much, but I was able to see the hulking shape of my brother with his huge bull’s head and wicked-looking horns.

“There is the beast!” A light suddenly blazed to life beside me, and I cringed away from its brightness. It was a torch.

“Did you have that the whole time?”

“I was saving it!” He handed me the torch and the end of the yarn, and I took them, nonplussed. I saw the floor of the Labyrinth’s center, full of human bones. “Wait there, I will make swift work of this!” Theseus took a fighting stance, muscles tensed.

Asterion looked at me. I felt blind panic grip me, but he did not attack me. Perhaps he recognized me. He must have been familiar with my presence and voice by now, enough to know I wasn’t a threat. I stared into his black bull eyes. They were soft, not fiery and enraged. This was my brother. “Asterion… I’m so sorry, Asterion.”

“What are you doing? Get back!”

Theseus’ yell attracted Asterion’s attention. He roared and rushed forward with his powerful legs, horns lowered and ready to gore him to death. Theseus grabbed Asterion’s horns and hurled himself up onto the Minotaur’s back, holding him in a chokehold with both arms. “I shall send you to the pit of Tartarus, fiend!” Asterion thrashed and bucked and slammed Theseus against the wall, but soon enough, it was over. Theseus had strangled the Minotaur. Asterion lay dead.

Theseus picked himself up, looking exhausted but triumphant. “Victory! No Athenians will die today, or ever! This monster will never claim another human life!” He grinned at me. “See, I told you I could do it with my bare hands!”

I stared at the mass of Asterion’s body. “I killed my brother…”

“Nonsense!” Theseus took the torch back from me. The bones crunched under his feet as he walked. “It is hardly your fault that you are the sister of a beast. We have done a good and heroic thing today. Look, look at the bones! Why are you crying, Ariadne?”

I suddenly looked at him instead of the Minotaur’s corpse. I don’t think he’d said my name before. Even in the dim torchlight, he still looked bright, with clear eyes and golden hair and bronze skin slick with sweat. “I couldn’t have done this without you, Ariadne.” He smiled at me. “Thank you. Together we have saved many lives.”

He kissed me, and the torch went out.

The following events were a blur. After we had successfully followed the thread out of the Labyrinth, Theseus triumphantly announced to my father that the Minotaur was dead, and demanded me and my sister as prizes. My father was furious — of course he was. He had essentially just lost all of his children, and all because one had died in Athens before I was old enough to remember. I, however, was elated, and so was Phaedra. Phaedra was as eager to leave Crete as I was, and she seemed just as taken with Theseus’ handsomeness. She didn’t seem distressed that Asterion was dead, and why would she? The grateful Athenians went back to their ship, many of them sobbing with relief. I didn’t look at my father as I followed Theseus to the ship. I never wanted to look at him again. We passed by Talos, and I left Knossos and the Labyrinth behind me.

Crete faded into the horizon, and before me was sunshine and new possibilities. Theseus glowed with triumph and pride, smiling at me and kissing me when he announced to the other Athenians that he would marry me, and that I would become their queen. They fell to their knees and showered me and Theseus with gratitude for having saved their lives. I felt almost as if I were a goddess. Wine flowed freely in celebration, and I took more joy in it than I had in a long time.

It did not last long. Soon after the first few hours I was, if possible, even more miserable on Theseus’ ship than I had been in Knossos. I quickly became tired of his boasts about how he had strangled the beast, without crediting me at all, or so much as mentioning the ball of yarn, even though the other Athenians had seen me give it to him and seen me follow him into the Labyrinth. Every time he told the story, it got further from the truth, and emphasized his own heroism over mine. Is this how it would be when I was queen? No matter what I did, I’d be shunted to the side? Then, Theseus seemed to be doting on Phaedra. She usually attracted more attention. She was prettier than me. She had blond hair that shined in the sunlight and the bright eyes of our mother Pasiphae, the daughter of Helios. My hair and eyes were dark, like the Labyrinth.

I left the celebration, finding a quiet spot on deck. I sat by the edge of the ship, staring out into the open waves and trying not to think about Asterion, but the image of him lying dead in the torchlight haunted me. “Are you okay, Ariadne?” Phaedra asked me. “What is wrong? We are finally out of there, all thanks to you! No more Minotaur, no more tributes having to die, no more Father… We will have a new life in Athens.” I stayed silent. “You look despondent. Something’s wrong.”

I looked up into her eyes. “It’s like you said, Phaedra. Asterion is dead.”

“Do you… mourn him?”

“He was our brother, and I killed him!”

“Theseus killed him! You did nothing!” I knew that she meant to reassure me, but it touched a raw nerve.

“He would not have if I hadn’t led him straight to the center of the Labyrinth!”

“Ariadne…” Phaedra put her hand on my shoulder. “You… you’re… you’ll be okay. You are just a little bit disoriented.” She left me alone.

I looked at the Athenians, who laughed and danced and celebrated their lives. I didn’t feel like dancing. I already missed the Labyrinth. My guilt drew my thoughts back to Knossos. I wanted to hide in the Labyrinth forever, like Asterion had, or else throw myself into the sea for my guilt. The brightness of the waves was glaring compared to the soothing darkness of the Labyrinth.

Theseus approached me from behind. He had been ignoring me until now, maybe because I was so sorrowful. I could feel that he was angry at me, and my skin crawled, but I didn’t turn. “What cause do you have to weep, Ariadne? You should be happy!” he said.

“I am sorry, Theseus. Part of me still mourns for my brother.”

“What is the matter with you? All you have done is sit and stare at the water! If you loved that Labyrinth so much, perhaps you should have stayed there! Now please, put this sorrow behind you. You have no cause for it.” He sighed, softening. “When we arrive in Athens, we shall marry, and there will be much rejoicing.”

“Leave me alone.” The bitterness in my voice rang louder than I’d intended.

He scowled at me.“You are joyless, passionless, and thankless,” he spat, and stalked off. The word useless went unsaid; I could tell he was reconsidering making me his wife.

“Theseus, wait!” I yelled, suddenly sounding desperate.

I stood up, and he turned back to look at me, and I felt as if I were naked under his gaze and that of the others on the ship, which had all quieted and turned in my direction. His eyes were cold, and his nostrils flared just as Asterion’s had. “What, Ariadne? You have shown me neither gratitude nor pleasure, you have not acted like a princess. What do you have to say for yourself?”

Shamed, I said nothing. I sat back down. Then, as he was about to turn away again, I suddenly found my voice. “Why are you being cruel?”

“I am not being cruel. You are being difficult.”

By the time we reached Naxos, I was feeling heartbroken as well as grief-stricken. Theseus was giving me the silent treatment. I think he expected me to come running to him begging for forgiveness. We stopped on the island to rest, primarily because Theseus had dreamt that he would stop here during his homecoming.

I took off my sandals and walked along the edge of the surf to clear my thoughts. The beach was bright and wide and open, the exact opposite of the Labyrinth. Even in the sand, I felt his heavy footsteps approaching behind me. “Ariadne, we need to talk.”

I continued to face away from him. “What?”

“Ariadne, I find your attitude disagreeable.”

I turned on my heel to face him, planting myself in the sand. “I’ve found your attitude disagreeable! All you have done since we left Crete is boast about your heroics, and you’ve barely given me any credit—”

“Credit! You want credit for having slain it, when all you have done is cry over the hideous thing?”

The disdain in his voice stung me like arrows. “You don’t care at all for me or my feelings, do you?”

“If you were to become my queen, I would expect better behavior from you.” He sounded like he was lecturing a child.

“Well… I don’t want to be your queen! You are almost as bad as my father!”

“Good. I have already decided to take your sister Phaedra as my bride instead.” I didn’t reply. “You may still return with us to Athens, but we will have to make other arrangements for you.”

Forget Athens. I didn’t want Theseus to do anything for me. “Oh, forgive me for having been such a disappointment to you! Go ahead, go back to Athens and marry my sister! By Zeus! I’ve had enough of you!”

And I ran. I turned away from Theseus and ran down the beach until my legs gave out, falling in the sand to sulk and wonder where it all went wrong. I regretted having ever met Theseus, or helped him to kill my brother. If I could undo it all, I would. No. Then innocent people would have died. Oh, gods, why am I so wretched?

And then, as I was just beginning to calm down, I saw that the ship was sailing away over the waves. I was stranded on the island. Despair and panic crashed down upon me. Oh gods, gods, why? Had I somehow been forgotten about, or left behind on purpose? Had Theseus doomed me to die? “CURSE you, Theseus!” I screamed at the distant ship. I watched it go until it disappeared over the horizon. I could do nothing but hopelessly stare at the wine-dark sea as the sun set.

“Excuse me, why are you crying?”

I had been sitting with my head in my arms, weeping despondently, and I was startled by the sudden voice, soft though it was. I was certain the island was deserted, but now, a young man stood before me. He was silhouetted against the sky, the sun shining behind his head like a halo. Where had he come from? I hadn’t heard him come. It was though he’d simply stepped out of the sea.

“I’m sorry,” I said, and my voice sounded cracked from crying. “I thought I was alone.”

“May I sit with you?” the man asked. “You look like you could use a drink, something to soothe you, hm?”

“Yes… yes, thank you.”

He sat down in the sand next to me, languidly stretching his legs out in front of him like he was sitting on the plushest couch. With the sunlight on him, I could see him properly — he was the most beautiful man I’d ever seen in my life. He easily put Theseus to shame. His eyes were leafy green, warm and kind. He was lithe, and his skin looked as pale and smooth as a girl’s, and his lips looked so soft. I couldn’t place the color of his hair — it seemed to be dark brown, but it could have been as dark as the Styx, and when the sun caught it, it looked honey-gold. It fell over his shoulders in loose curls. He wore nothing but a fine purple cloak draped over one shoulder, a golden leopard skin around his waist, and a wreath of ivy on his head. His cheeks were flushed, and he had a bright, easy smile. He was so lovely, so breathtaking, it almost hurt to look at him. With delicate hands, he offered me a kylix brimming with wine. “Please, tell me what has made you so upset.”

I blinked at the kylix, and the leopard skin, and the ivy in his hair. “Are you… a Bacchant?” I’d heard of them. They worshipped a mad and savage god with drunken orgies in the woods, and were said to be able to rip animals or even people limb-from-limb in their frenzy. Not unlike Asterion, I suppose.

He flashed a devious smile. “Maaaaybe.”

I took the kylix and drank deeply. The wine was sweet, and somehow, I felt immediately calmer. Slowly, amid my lingering sobs, I told the story — about Asterion, and my father, and the tributes, how I’d decided to help Theseus, how we’d found our way through the Labyrinth, how Theseus had killed Asterion, how Theseus had been so heartless, and how he had apparently left me to die on a deserted island. By the time I finished talking, the kylix was empty.

“How do you feel now?” he asked me.

“Better… I think. But I’m still devastated, and… guilty. My brother’s death… it was really my fault, and I don’t know if I did the right thing or not. Do you think it’s wrong for me to grieve for my brother? I mean… he was a monster…”

“No. I don’t think it’s wrong. It is perfectly understandable that you would mourn your brother.”

“If I had let the Athenians die, I would have mourned for them, too.” I sighed.

“Yes. There must be blood; one sacrifice was traded for another, Asterion, the worthy bull. It is okay to grieve, for as long as you need to, but do not wallow in despair.”

“I tend to do that. I don’t remember the last time I was completely happy. I thought Theseus would make me happy, but… then… I wish I had my Labyrinth back! It was at least soothing down there.”

“It pains me to see people sad,” he said. He handed me the kylix again, and it was once again full of wine. I hadn’t seen him fill it. “Pleasure is a state of mind. The best way to rid yourself of sadness is to focus on things that make you happy. There is always something to take pleasure in! Like the beauty of the sunset, or the sound of the lapping waves. Or wine!”

“Not when you are abandoned to die, with no way off the island,” I said. “How did you get here, anyway? I don’t see a boat.”

“I have my ways,” he said cryptically, with that same mischievous smile. That smile and the teasing sparkle in his eyes were so adorable. His beauty is something to take pleasure in, I suddenly thought, and his company, and kindness…

I took another draught of the wine. “Why are the gods so cruel to me?” I murmured, more to myself than to him.

“The gods are not cruel to you.” He stated it with complete confidence, as though it were an undeniable fact, not as though he were trying to convince me.

“It certainly seems that way,” I replied.

“Life can often seem that way, but then, it gets better, and you will find that the gods favor you,” he said.

“Well… I suppose that must be true, if handsome strangers pop out of nowhere to comfort women.”

He beamed. “Exactly!” He took the kylix back from me, threw his head back, and drained about half of it in one gulp. “You know, I was stranded on a desert island like this one once.”

“Wait, what? You were?”

“Yes! It was a long time ago now, but I was just as pretty back then, and just as fond of wearing purple. Purple is the best color, you know.” He winked. “Anyway, so I was lying asleep on a beach and—” he took another swig of the wine, “a pirate ship rows by…”

“Are you drunk?”

“Always, darling!” That roguish grin of his was really starting to win me over. “Anyway, the pirates saw me sleeping on the beach, saw how pretty I was and saw my fine purple robes, and thought I was a prince. Well. They weren’t wrong… I technically am a prince of Thebes, on my mother’s side.” He laughed like he had just told the most hilarious joke and had another sip of the wine. The amount of wine in the kylix never seemed to get any lower.

“Does that mean… you’re a bastard?” I asked hesitantly.

“Yes, yes it does! I’m such a bastard. I mean… I was born out of wedlock. And my father’s wife, oooh, she hates me.” Another sip of the wine. “Never get on her bad side if you can help it.” He pointed at me as if this was the most important information I could ever learn, and I laughed. “She can’t touch me now, but she drove me mad when I was younger. Literally. Anyway, so these pirates kidnapped me. Thought I’d make a damn cute catamite, and I certainly would, but that’s beside the point. You don’t and kidnap boys no matter how pretty they are. I tried to tell my dad that, but it didn’t go over well.” Another sip of the wine.

“You are slender, but I bet you could take Theseus in a drinking contest.”

“Oh, I could take aaaaaanyone in a drinking contest! Never lost one yet!” His face was glowing, not just with blush from the wine but also with infectious joy. I slowly forgot about my misfortunes as I listened to his story. “So they tried to tie me to the ship’s mast, but found they couldn’t do it. I only tolerate bondage on my own terms. And then…” There was suddenly a mad gleam in his green eyes. “I covered their ship in grapevines, and ivy, and flowers, and the delicious smell of wine. I can’t imagine why such delightful things frightened them so. But I thought I’d scare them more, see, because it was funny. So I turned into a lion! And they flung themselves overboard in fear!” He laughed, and his laugh sounded as musical as flutes on a clear morning, but it had a maddened edge to it. “But I pitied them, y’know?” he continued. “Just as you pity your brother. So I changed them into dolphins. So they wouldn’t drown.”

“You changed… you turned into… did… did your god give you those powers? Or… are you just… really… drunk?” But I knew. I think that intuitively, I knew the whole time.

“Easy,” he said, once again raising the bottomless kylix to his lips with that knowing smile. “I’m really drunk.”

At this, I burst out laughing, and my laugh sounded almost unfamiliar to my own ears. I felt light, carefree, replenished. And then it sank in, that I was speaking to a god. I hastily knelt, and dropped my head before him, although he was still sitting next to me. “Lord Dionysus! Son of Zeus! Lord, lord, thank you for coming to me, for talking to me, for relieving me of my pain, for freeing me from my suffering…”

“You’re welcome, Ariadne.” He lifted my face, so that I was staring up into his eyes, which were now vivid reddish-purple, the color of ripe grapes. A richly purple aura surrounded him, proclaiming his divinity. In his hand was his staff, a fennel stalk topped with a pinecone that dripped with honey, twined with ivy and purple ribbons. And he had horns, bull’s horns just like my brother’s, magnificent and deadly sharp. They curved up above his brow, as much his crown as the wreath of ivy in his hair. The imposing horns created a striking contrast with his delicate features, but they looked right, somehow. Like this was how he was supposed to look.

I didn’t know what to say. My mind had gone suddenly blank. “I’ve never known great Dionysus to have horns,” I blurted.

“Not many get to see them,” he said, his voice suddenly slow and solemn. “Ariadne, will you dance with me?”

Whatever I had expected him to say, it was not that. “Wh—what?”

“Dance with me!” He stood up and twirled off across the beach. His hair floated around his shoulders, the ribbons on his thyrsus arced through the air like the rainbow, and his expression was one of elation. He screamed in ecstasy, and it was an inhuman sound, like the crowing of some unearthly bird. At that, the air filled with cacophonous music — flutes, drums, cymbals, rattles, castanets.

A command echoed inside my head. No, not a command — a compulsion: DANCE! DANCE!

So I danced with the bull-horned god. “Dancing” barely even begins to describe what I was doing. I was filled with an overwhelming, indescribable feeling, like I didn’t fit in my own skin. Like I was about to be lifted out of my own shoulders! I moved like my body was doing everything it could to express this ineffable thing inside me that was so much bigger than me. I spun, I leapt, I ran, I stamped my feet in the sand, I moved wherever the feeling took me. It burned like fire. And Dionysus was all I could perceive. I screamed with both intense rapture and pure, genuine worship: “EUOI! EUOI! EUOI!”

I met his eyes, and there I saw all the raw ferocity of a bull or a great cat, as well as chaos and lust and debauchery and pure mania. All the forces strong enough to tear a person apart! I desperately thirsted for something I could not name. It was more than wine, more than flesh, more than blood. Dionysus took me in his arms, and kissed me on the lips. Passion overtook me.

Maybe I fainted in exhilaration, or maybe I was simply too drunk to remember. All I know was that I was eventually awakened by the sunrise and the sound of lapping waves. And Dionysus… was still there. He hadn’t disappeared into the night, he was still sleeping there in the sand, looking blissful and alluring in his sleep. His tousled curls tumbled over the sand, his soft hand was upturned beside his head, and his lips were parted invitingly. He lay on his purple cloak, and was using the leopard pelt like a blanket, though it was only carelessly draped over his waist.

“Lord… thank you for not leaving me,” I whispered.

His long eyelashes fluttered, and then his eyes opened, once again appearing vine-green. “Mmmm… sleep well?”

“Yes.” I desperately wanted to kiss him, and the seductive look in his eyes tempted me. “May I… touch you?”

“Darling, you may touch me anywhere you like,” he purred. Ravenously, I wrapped my arms around his waist, pressed my chest to his, and our lips met. He still tasted like wine, and I drank him in the way I would wine. We lay there for a moment, entangled in each other’s arms like grape and ivy vines, idly caressing each other’s skin and hair.

“M’lord…” I whispered, “perhaps it might be impertinent to ask, but… what am I going to do now? I can’t go home. I don’t really want to go to Athens. And I still have no way off this island.”

“Why, Ariadne,” he gave me a teasing smile. “If I may be so bold, I hoped you would join me! In fact… I hope you might marry me.”

I was so taken aback by this that I immediately sat up. “You… you’re serious? Marry you?” I knew that gods frequently took mortal lovers, but this was unimaginable. “Actually marry you?”

“Yes, Ariadne. I love you.” He said it with the same sweetness and sincerity that he initially approached me with. Theseus had said no such thing. “You are not destined to become queen of Athens, but perhaps you might be my queen, if you are willing.”

I burst into tears, but they weren’t tears of sadness this time. They were tears of overwhelm, the same kind of overflowing sensation that I’d felt while dancing. “You love me?”

“I am absolutely besotted, my darling! I have had many lovers, but I had not fallen so madly in love since Ampelos, my first love, my darling vine.” A grapevine appeared between his fingers and twined up his arm. “Perhaps something in me is inclined towards mortals over gods, which is understandable, given my parentage. But, that should be no problem. I will bring you to Olympus, and love you for all of time.”

“How… why me?” I sputtered. “What have I done to deserve this?”

“Ariadne, you are letting your human mind interfere, and convince you that you are not worthy to be in my presence. Did you feel unworthy last night, while we were dancing?”

“No… I felt… there was no such thing.”

“Ariadne, do you love me?”

I struggled to find any word that could properly describe how I felt about him. “You are… utterly intoxicating.”

He giggled like a shy maiden. “I get that a lot. And, if you could be worthy of having me as a husband, would you have me?”

Yes. My body and soul ached and burned with wanting. And he made me extraordinarily happy! I’d never dared to believe a god would love me enough to marry me, but that disbelief was only getting in my way.

He looked me dead in the eyes. I nearly flinched away from the intensity of his gaze, and the shimmering madness behind it. “You are more than you realize, Ariadne, guide in the dark, guardian of the gates of initiation. You are intelligent and witty and brave, and you fear no darkness or madness or savagery, do you? You faced them all in the Labyrinth. You would make an excellent addition to my thiasus, even if you decide not to marry me. Ariadne, the most holy and pure, Lady of the Labyrinth.” His words reverberated deep in the labyrinthine pathways of my own mind and soul, like he had revealed an ancient truth that I had known once, but forgotten.

“The Labyrinth is a holy place, of contemplation and transformation. Isn’t it? Not of death.”

He smiled that gorgeous, winning smile again. “Yes! You understand! And even where there is death, it is not absolute.” His eyes shone with feverish excitement. “Oh, I have so much to teach you!”

“Lord Dionysus, I would be honored beyond imagining if I were to become your wife.”

“So is that a yes? You will marry me?”

Something about him felt right in a way that I could not put words to, like the Fates had done all they could to bring me to this moment. This god loved me, more than the other gods love their conquests, more than I could comprehend. “Yes! I will marry you!”

At that, a cool wind blew across the island, swirling his dark hair around his face and making all the vegetation appear to shimmer. It was like the island itself was affirming my decision. “Then, Ariadne, we shall rule the revel together! In honor of our engagement…” A magnificent diadem appeared in his hands, sparkling with seven gemstones like stars. He placed it on my head, and gave me a warm kiss on my lips. “Ariadne, my bride, may you never thirst. May your lusts never go unsatisfied. May your heart always be light and joyful.”

“Thank you. Thank you, m’lord!”

“You can stop calling me that. If we are to be married, you can simply call me by my name. Or, call me what pleases you. Now, come with me!” He stood, offering me his hand. “Unless you would rather spend some more alone time together, I should finally take you off this island! I will take you home to Nysa, or perhaps to Arcadia, and we will have to throw the most spectacular bacchanal in celebration of our marriage!”

“How will we travel?”

He led me down the beach like a child eager to show something to their parent, and gestured toward a golden chariot drawn by two gigantic panthers. The chariot itself was decorated in images of swirling grapevines and serpents and satyrs making love, and the cats’ pelts gleamed. “Oh, gods… I mean… wow. Does it move over water?”

“It flies, silly!” He stood inside it and beckoned to me. “These cats can run on the wind. Hermes gave them to me.”

I climbed into the chariot and held on for dear life as the panthers bounded into the air with great strides. Soon the chariot was blazing through the bright air, and Naxos was far behind us. Dionysus laughed into the wind, which blew his long hair back from his face. As radiant as he was, I was more than a little terrified of speeding through the air high above the sea in a chariot, and felt like I would fall off at any second, although not even my diadem was dislodged from my head.

“You look terror-stricken, Ariadne. Would you like me to tell you another amusing story? That seems to have cheered you up the last time!”

“That depends on whether you can drive a chariot and get incredibly drunk at the same time.”

He laughed uproariously. “Oh, I love you so much! I can do anything and get incredibly drunk, if you were wondering. So, anyway, the story… Mortals have mixed opinions of me. Most love my parties and stories and love my wine, but they seem a bit put off by the madness and violence and lust it brings out in them… Not sure why, it’s not as though all of that wasn’t there to begin with… Mortal kings do not like this, and some of them can be quite unkind to my worshippers, testing the limits of my mercy… but one of them allowed my mentor, Silenus, to sleep in his garden. So kind of him! So of course I offered him any reward he might wish for, and… he wished that everything he touched would turn to gold.”

“Ooh. Let me guess, it backfired?”

“Oh, did it backfire! His food turned to gold and he nearly starved, and even his daughter turned to gold! Hardly my fault, of course. I promised to give him what he asked for, and I did, he just happened to be an idiot. He had the chance to wish for anything in the world, and he chose something as shallow and pointless as gold. Not to mention, he clearly had never heard of inflation, which makes me worry about his kingdom’s economy. Oh, well. He learned, and I changed everything back. I always let humans indulge themselves, but I am not a god of excess. Either they are satisfied by their pleasures, or they learn their lesson fast. The moral of the story: Know your tolerance. Also, if you want to turn things to gold, you have to do it the hard way. Hermes and I were just discussing how to turn lead to gold, in fact…”

His soothing voice and hilarious tales put me at ease, until we were traveling over beautiful mountains and verdant valleys. I had never seen mainland Greece, but the view of it from the flying chariot was incredible. I was no longer afraid of falling. As we flew, I felt as if the wind stripped me of the cares and sorrows of my former life. Dionysus had set me free. I smiled at him, and he smiled at me as the chariot descended into the lush, hidden valley where a throng of Maenads and satyrs waited to welcome home their lord and his queen.

Dionysus helped me out of the chariot, and I stood before the thiasus, their maddened eyes all turned upon me. “I am the bride of Dionysus,” I proclaimed. “I am Ariadne of the Labyrinth.”

#greek mythology #greek myths #greek myth retellings #greek mythology retellings #creative writing #dionysus #city dionysia #dionysus greek god #dionysus greek mythology #dionysos #dionysus devotion #dionysus devotee #dionysus deity #ariadne #ariadne and dionysus #lady of the labyrinth #labyrinth #labyrinth of crete #the minotaur #theseus and the minotaur #theseus #asterion #minotaur #dionysus x ariadne #gothic aesthetic

[dionysia-ta-astika]

The Lady of the Labyrinth

For Dionysus.

Everything was lost. My brother was dead. My love was gone.

I was also stranded on a deserted island. I stared out at the vast, empty expanse of the sea. The sunlight on the waves winked at me with a thousand eyes, as though diamonds had been scattered across the surface of the water. Anyone would find this beach tranquil, I suppose, if they were here under different circumstances than mine.

My brother’s name was Asterion.

Most people didn’t know his name, or even that he had one. To most people, he was the Minotaur, a horrible monster with the body of a man and the head of a bull that eats people. Asterion was a monster, and he did eat people.

Beneath my father’s shining palace, he prowled the twists and turns of the Labyrinth that my father’s genius architect built. The Labyrinth was mine, once. Daedalus made it for me as a dancing path, when I was a little girl. But now it is a dark, disorienting maze of seemingly endless passageways, and I was still the only person who knew how to navigate it. When I could have time alone, I would go to the Labyrinth. I felt my way through its pitch-black corridors, memorizing the nicks and cracks in the rough stone, trying to calm my thoughts. I spoke to Asterion through the walls: “You have never seen the sun,” I said to him. “Do you ever wonder what it’s like in the outside world? Or do you like it down here?” I received no answer from the surrounding darkness. If I did hear something — a snort, or hooves on stone, I would have to run as fast as I could away from the sound. Even I couldn’t go too near Asterion — I wouldn’t want to run the risk that he might attack me.

 “Why do you go down there?” My sister, Phaedra, asked me. “What could possibly be appealing about that dark, dismal place?”

“I like it down there,” I said, trying to sound as matter-of-fact as I could. “It is peaceful. And I don’t mind the dark.”

She looked at me like I had suddenly sprouted bull’s horns myself. “You know you risk your life every time you enter the Labyrinth, right?”

“He’s our brother,” I said. I don’t know what I intended to explain by saying that. I felt like I had a responsibility to him that extended beyond simply being his sister. I tried to see a man in him, although he sniffed and bellowed and charged like a bull. He could gore me to death like a bull, but I did not fear him. “I can’t say I love him, but I feel something.”

“You shouldn’t feel any sympathy for him. He’s a freak of nature. The gods cursed us with him for our father’s arrogance. He is a shame upon our kingdom.”

She was right, of course. The gods gifted us a beautiful white bull that we were meant to sacrifice to Poseidon, but my father decided to keep it instead. And Poseidon cursed us… Asterion is the unholy offspring of my mother and the bull. And it gets worse. Every seven years, seven young men and seven young women from the city of Athens were brought to the Labyrinth to be fed to my brother. This was because my other brother, whom I was too young to remember, died while in Athens. Athens pays for this slight with the lives of other young people.

I suppose it’s no different than war, or at least, that’s what my father says. All cities send their youths to die for the polis. How was this any different? I could hardly bear the prisoners’ wails of desperation or their pleas for me to help them. When I heard they were coming, I begged my father to set them free, asserting that it was wrong to sacrifice humans to anything. If the gods had cast Tantalus into Tartarus for feeding them his son, then why should we knowingly feed humans to a monster? He laughed at me and asked why I had no pride in my family.  

I hated the thought of the fourteen young people being fed to him, but I also couldn’t imagine killing my own brother, even if he was a monster.

I was too young to remember the last time the prisoners came to the Labyrinth. They had come, and my brother had gorged himself on their flesh, and I was none the wiser. This time, I knew, and the horror of it struck me silent as the tributes were paraded through the city like animal sacrifices to the gods, so that we could all see those who were doomed to die. I could hardly bear to look at them. Some of those girls were barely older than me. It felt wrong to sit by and watch as they were brought to the Labyrinth. But what could I do to save their lives? Supplicating my father would not work, and the only other option was helping them to escape, somehow. How could I do that?

In spite of myself, I caught sight of one of the young men. He was handsome, and he had a defiant, blazing look in his eye. He looked straight at my father on his throne. “I am Theseus of Athens!” he declared. “I have come to slay your monstrous son!”

My father had laughed at him, but he consumed my thoughts. That may be because he was absolutely gorgeous, but it was also because if he succeeded at killing Asterion, he would solve all my problems. I wouldn’t have to take my own brother’s life, but he would devour no more innocent lives. And, if this youth survived, he might take me away with him. I knew the Labyrinth better than anyone. Even if he did survive, he could never make it in and out without my help.

Forgive me, Asterion.

The prisoners were held in two dank cells near the entrance to the Labyrinth.  The women were kept in one, and the men were kept in the other. Many of the prisoners were crying — not just the women, but the men, too. In my familiarity with the Labyrinth and its inhabitant, I had forgotten just how terrifying both would be to anyone else. The Labyrinth’s darkness and maddening complexity would intimidate anyone, and the prospect of being eaten by a monster within its depths was horrific.

Only Theseus seemed calm. His boldness in front of my father hadn’t been an act. His jaw was set, and he still had raw determination in his steely eyes. He was really going to do it, wasn’t he? He actually meant to kill Asterion. He shone like gold in the gloom of the dungeon — he could have been Apollo. If our circumstances were different, I might have wanted to stroke his chest. “Who are you?” he demanded when I approached the cell, as though I were the one behind bars, and had requested an audience with him.

“I am Ariadne,” I said, “daughter of Minos, princess of Crete.”

“I am Theseus, son of Aegeus, prince of Athens,” he returned.

Prince of Athens. That explained his noble bearing and proud mien, not to mention his handsome features… and yet… “There is no way the King of Athens would have sent his own son to be fed to the Minotaur,” I said. “Why are you really here?”

“I said, didn’t I? I’m here to slay the Minotaur. I volunteered as tribute.” He smirked. “I promised my father that I would return alive. No more of our people will be sacrificed to the monster!”

“You speak with a lot of confidence for someone who is currently in a prison cell,” I said. “What are you going to do, Theseus? Do you have a plan?”

“Of course I have a plan!” he said, a little defensively. “I am going to break out of this cell. And then I will conquer the Labyrinth—”

“How? You’ll be dead of starvation before you even reach the Minotaur, assuming he doesn’t find you first.”

His eyes narrowed. “Are you taunting me?”

I leaned forward, looking directly into his eyes. “No. I was actually going to offer to help you. I know the Labyrinth. I go into it all the time.”

“No, you don’t. You’re trying to get me to sleep with you. Or trying to deceive me on behalf of Minos.”

I opened my mouth to speak, but couldn’t find anything to say in response to that. For a moment I just stared at him. Was he always this self-assured, even in the worst of circumstances? If he wanted to sleep with me, I certainly wouldn’t complain, but why would he assume that I would deceive him? Well, perhaps it was his right to be suspicious, in a strange land where he was kept as a prisoner. “I… no,” I finally replied. “I’m being serious. I’m here to help you.”

“Why, then?”

“I think it is very noble of you to want to save the other Athenians, and I agree that no more innocent lives should be lost.”

He smiled slightly, but still looked suspicious. “You have no loyalty to your father?”

“My father is cruel and selfish. Why else do you think my mother gave birth to a monster, anyway?”

“The monster is your brother? What was his father, a bull?”

“Yes.”

That seemed to have stunned him into silence. I felt some satisfaction at that. “Listen to me. Without my help, you will not get through the Labyrinth. If you want to kill the Minotaur, you need me.”

“What’s the catch?” he asked. “You’re going to want something in return, aren’t you? What?”

“Take me off this accursed rock,” I said. “I am sick of Crete, I’m sick of my father, and I don’t want to have to put up with whatever punishment he might give me for helping you.”

“Well, you are a princess, and I suppose you would make a fine bride for me.”

My heart leapt at those words, and I felt myself blushing. Perhaps I should have known better. “Really? You would marry me?”

“If you help me to slay the Minotaur, then yes, I will marry you.”

“Deal.”

Theseus remained in my thoughts from that point onward. When I closed my eyes, I saw his face, and I imagined the feel of his skin. I’d never seen a man like him before, and oh, if I married him… would I be happy? Happier than I was here, at least? He seemed like the kind of man that Phaedra and I dreamed we would marry as young girls — strong, brave, handsome, and willing to put himself on the line for the sake of his people. All such admirable qualities.

I returned to Theseus when the prisoners were locked into the Labyrinth’s abyssal maw. “Everyone else, stay back!” he ordered, as though he were directing troops. “I will go into the Labyrinth and kill the Minotaur. Stay here, and you will be safe.” He suddenly turned to me. “What have you brought to help me?”

I held out a humble ball of yarn. “This.”

He took it from my hand and raised an eyebrow at it, looking as though he might throw it into the dark. “What am I supposed to do with this?”

“Daedalus gave it to me when I first started exploring the Labyrinth.”

“Daedalus? I’ve heard of Daedalus. He is supposed to be the most brilliant architect in the world, right?”

“He built this Labyrinth, and he gave me the yarn. All you have to do is tie the end here and carry it through the maze. Then you can follow it back out.”

Theseus looked impressed. “He must be a genius to have thought of something like that!”

He may have been a genius, but I was still intelligent enough to figure it out on my own. All Daedalus had done was hand me the ball of yarn, and I immediately understood what I was meant to do with it. But I didn’t bother correcting Theseus. “Do you have a weapon?”

“No,” said Theseus. “I’m not worried. I’ll kill the beast with my bare hands.”

I blinked at him, dumbfounded. I suppose if anyone could do it, he could; he was almost as musclebound as the bull-man. But still. Only an extremely impressive hero with divine lineage could hope to kill a monster bare-handed, that or a total idiot. “You are going to die.”

“Nonsense!” He smiled. “Haven’t died yet! And I have faced many deadly trials before.”

I smiled back. “I’m sure you have, but, well, it’s your funeral.”

“Do you want this monster dead, or not?” he demanded.

“Woah, I wasn’t being serious, I…” To be asked that question point-blank was unsettling. It threw my whole dilemma into focus. But seeing the terrified faces of the other tributes huddled naked in the entrance to the Labyrinth gave me my answer. “Yes.”

“I shall go then.” He tied the yarn to the gate and strode with it into the dark. I admired his confidence, even if the odds were against him. He turned the first corner, and was gone. I stared into the darkness for a moment.

One of the girls gripped the hem of my dress. “Please,” she whispered. “Please help us, my lady. We did nothing to be here. If he dies, will you help us escape?”

 I didn’t look at her. I kept staring into the Labyrinth’s depths. “I will do what I can,” I said slowly. Then I followed Theseus. I heard her gasp behind me, as if her last hope had just walked away.

I overtook Theseus quickly. He was moving slowly, blindly hitting walls and getting disoriented by the serpentine turns. He jumped when he heard me behind him, turned on his heel and braced for attack, staring me down with the intensity of a bull about to charge. Then he softened. “Oh. It’s you. What are you doing here? I don’t need your help.”

“I know this place better than you do,” I said matter-of-factly.

He huffed in response. “Get back to the entrance. The Minotaur could arrive at any moment.”

I walked ahead of him. “I know. Every time I explore the Labyrinth, I risk death.”

“Why would you explore this place?” he asked, following me. “What could it possibly offer a girl like you?”

“Peace. Solitude. Time away from my father.”

“This Labyrinth is maddening!” His growing frustration echoed off the walls. “How are you not mad? Perhaps you are mad, with the things you say.”

“I’ve never considered that I might be mad.”

“Only if you were mad would you willingly choose to be in this dark prison.”

“You willingly chose to be here.”

He had no response. We walked in silence for a while, dragging the thread behind us. It was almost impossible to see the thread in the dark. I could tell that Theseus was starting to get agitated. The twining paths of the Labyrinth must be making him feel like we were making no progress. The grim silence and high stone walls made us feel completely cut off from the outside world, like there was no world at all beyond the Labyrinth. “Do you think this is what Hades is like?” he asked. “A deep cavern, under the earth, where there is nothing to do but walk endlessly?”

I couldn’t tell whether that was a sincere philosophical question, or whether he was asking indignantly. “I don’t know. The Fields of Asphodel are supposed to be open, and full of the white flowers… Not quite like this.”

“It makes no difference to me anyway. I will assuredly go to Elysium when I die, and it is the most agreeable part of Hades.”

If Hades is exactly like this, I thought, then perhaps it wouldn’t be so bad. There are worse things than this.

Eventually, we passed the point where I usually turned back. I had never gotten this close to the center before. And then we heard it — the unmistakable sound of hooves. Cold terror gripped me. I did not expect to feel this afraid, especially not of my own brother, but the reality of the situation sank in. We were  in a Labyrinth with a flesh-eating monster, and the exit was too far away for any chance of escape.  Why did I follow him? Why did I think that was a good idea?

“Our quarry is upon us! You should leave,” said Theseus sternly. “The monster eats the maidens first, so I hear.”

The instinct to run left me. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“Suit yourself, but you will not be able to fight against the Minotaur.”

“You will protect me, will you?” Being with him felt safe, like he was a bodyguard.

“I will.” As soon as he said that, my fear was banished, and my confidence restored.

A few more turns, and we reached the center of the Labyrinth, a place I figured I’d never enter. In the gloom, I couldn’t actually see much, but I was able to see the hulking shape of my brother with his huge bull’s head and wicked-looking horns.

“There is the beast!” A light suddenly blazed to life beside me, and I cringed away from its brightness. It was a torch.

“Did you have that the whole time?”

“I was saving it!” He handed me the torch and the end of the yarn, and I took them, nonplussed. I saw the floor of the Labyrinth’s center, full of human bones. “Wait there, I will make swift work of this!” Theseus took a fighting stance, muscles tensed.

Asterion looked at me. I felt blind panic grip me, but he did not attack me. Perhaps he recognized me. He must have been familiar with my presence and voice by now, enough to know I wasn’t a threat. I stared into his black bull eyes. They were soft, not fiery and enraged. This was my brother. “Asterion… I’m so sorry, Asterion.”

“What are you doing? Get back!”

Theseus’ yell attracted Asterion’s attention. He roared and rushed forward with his powerful legs, horns lowered and ready to gore him to death. Theseus grabbed Asterion’s horns and hurled himself up onto the Minotaur’s back, holding him in a chokehold with both arms. “I shall send you to the pit of Tartarus, fiend!”  Asterion thrashed and bucked and slammed Theseus against the wall, but soon enough, it was over. Theseus had strangled the Minotaur. Asterion lay dead.

Theseus picked himself up, looking exhausted but triumphant. “Victory! No Athenians will die today, or ever! This monster will never claim another human life!” He grinned at me. “See, I told you I could do it with my bare hands!”

I stared at the mass of Asterion’s body. “I killed my brother…”

“Nonsense!” Theseus took the torch back from me. The bones crunched under his feet as he walked. “It is hardly your fault that you are the sister of a beast. We have done a good and heroic thing today. Look, look at the bones! Why are you crying, Ariadne?”

I suddenly looked at him instead of the Minotaur’s corpse. I don’t think he’d said my name before. Even in the dim torchlight, he still looked bright, with clear eyes and golden hair and bronze skin slick with sweat. “I couldn’t have done this without you, Ariadne.” He smiled at me. “Thank you. Together we have saved many lives.”

He kissed me, and the torch went out.

The following events were a blur. After we had successfully followed the thread out of the Labyrinth, Theseus triumphantly announced to my father that the Minotaur was dead, and demanded me and my sister as prizes. My father was furious — of course he was. He had essentially just lost all of his children, and all because one had died in Athens before I was old enough to remember. I, however, was elated, and so was Phaedra. Phaedra was as eager to leave Crete as I was, and she seemed just as taken with Theseus’ handsomeness. She didn’t seem distressed that Asterion was dead, and why would she? The grateful Athenians went back to their ship, many of them sobbing with relief. I didn’t look at my father as I followed Theseus to the ship. I never wanted to look at him again. We passed by Talos, and I left Knossos and the Labyrinth behind me.

Crete faded into the horizon, and before me was sunshine and new possibilities. Theseus glowed with triumph and pride, smiling at me and kissing me when he announced to the other Athenians that he would marry me, and that I would become their queen. They fell to their knees and showered me and Theseus with gratitude for having saved their lives. I felt almost as if I were a goddess. Wine flowed freely in celebration, and I took more joy in it than I had in a long time.

It did not last long. Soon after the first few hours I was, if possible, even more miserable on Theseus’ ship than I had been in Knossos. I quickly became tired of his boasts about how he had strangled the beast, without crediting me at all, or so much as mentioning the ball of yarn, even though the other Athenians had seen me give it to him and seen me follow him into the Labyrinth. Every time he told the story, it got further from the truth, and emphasized his own heroism over mine. Is this how it would be when I was queen? No matter what I did, I’d be shunted to the side? Then, Theseus seemed to be doting on Phaedra. She usually attracted more attention. She was prettier than me. She had blond hair that shined in the sunlight and the bright eyes of our mother Pasiphae, the daughter of Helios. My hair and eyes were dark, like the Labyrinth.

I left the celebration, finding a quiet spot on deck. I sat by the edge of the ship, staring out into the open waves and trying not to think about Asterion, but the image of him lying dead in the torchlight haunted me. “Are you okay, Ariadne?” Phaedra asked me. “What is wrong? We are finally out of there, all thanks to you! No more Minotaur, no more tributes having to die, no more Father… We will have a new life in Athens.” I stayed silent. “You look despondent. Something’s wrong.”

I looked up into her eyes. “It’s like you said, Phaedra. Asterion is dead.”

“Do you… mourn him?”

“He was our brother, and I killed him!”

“Theseus killed him! You did nothing!” I knew that she meant to reassure me, but it touched a raw nerve.

“He would not have if I hadn’t led him straight to the center of the Labyrinth!”

“Ariadne…” Phaedra put her hand on my shoulder. “You… you’re… you’ll be okay. You are just a little bit disoriented.” She left me alone.

I looked at the Athenians, who laughed and danced and celebrated their lives. I didn’t feel like dancing. I already missed the Labyrinth. My guilt drew my thoughts back to Knossos. I wanted to hide in the Labyrinth forever, like Asterion had, or else throw myself into the sea for my guilt. The brightness of the waves was glaring compared to the soothing darkness of the Labyrinth.

Theseus approached me from behind. He had been ignoring me until now, maybe because I was so sorrowful. I could feel that he was angry at me, and my skin crawled, but I didn’t turn. “What cause do you have to weep, Ariadne? You should be happy!” he said.

“I am sorry, Theseus. Part of me still mourns for my brother.”

“What is the matter with you? All you have done is sit and stare at the water! If you loved that Labyrinth so much, perhaps you should have stayed there! Now please, put this sorrow behind you. You have no cause for it.” He sighed, softening. “When we arrive in Athens, we shall marry, and there will be much rejoicing.”

“Leave me alone.” The bitterness in my voice rang louder than I’d intended.

He scowled at me.“You are joyless, passionless, and thankless,” he spat, and stalked off. The word useless went unsaid; I could tell he was reconsidering making me his wife.

“Theseus, wait!” I yelled, suddenly sounding desperate.

I stood up, and he turned back to look at me, and I felt as if I were naked under his gaze and that of the others on the ship, which had all quieted and turned in my direction. His eyes were cold, and his nostrils flared just as Asterion’s had. “What, Ariadne? You have shown me neither gratitude nor pleasure, you have not acted like a princess. What do you have to say for yourself?”

Shamed, I said nothing. I sat back down. Then, as he was about to turn away again, I suddenly found my voice. “Why are you being cruel?”

“I am not being cruel. You are being difficult.”

By the time we reached Naxos, I was feeling heartbroken as well as grief-stricken. Theseus was giving me the silent treatment. I think he expected me to come running to him begging for forgiveness. We stopped on the island to rest, primarily because Theseus had dreamt that he would stop here during his homecoming.

 I took off my sandals and walked along the edge of the surf to clear my thoughts. The beach was bright and wide and open, the exact opposite of the Labyrinth. Even in the sand, I felt his heavy footsteps approaching behind me. “Ariadne, we need to talk.”

I continued to face away from him. “What?”

“Ariadne, I find your attitude disagreeable.” 

I turned on my heel to face him, planting myself in the sand. “I’ve found your attitude disagreeable! All you have done since we left Crete is boast about your heroics, and you’ve barely given me any credit—”

“Credit! You want credit for having slain it, when all you have done is cry over the hideous thing?”

The disdain in his voice stung me like arrows. “You don’t care at all for me or my feelings, do you?”

“If you were to become my queen, I would expect better behavior from you.” He sounded like he was lecturing a child.

“Well… I don’t want to be your queen! You are almost as bad as my father!”

“Good. I have already decided to take your sister Phaedra as my bride instead.” I didn’t reply. “You may still return with us to Athens, but we will have to make other arrangements for you.”

Forget Athens. I didn’t want Theseus to do anything for me. “Oh, forgive me for having been such a disappointment to you! Go ahead, go back to Athens and marry my sister! By Zeus! I’ve had enough of you!”

And I ran. I turned away from Theseus and ran down the beach until my legs gave out, falling in the sand to sulk and wonder where it all went wrong. I regretted having ever met Theseus, or helped him to kill my brother. If I could undo it all, I would. No. Then innocent people would have died. Oh, gods, why am I so wretched?

And then, as I was just beginning to calm down, I saw that the ship was sailing away over the waves. I was stranded on the island. Despair and panic crashed down upon me. Oh gods, gods, why? Had I somehow been forgotten about, or left behind on purpose? Had Theseus doomed me to die? “CURSE you, Theseus!” I screamed at the distant ship. I watched it go until it disappeared over the horizon. I could do nothing but hopelessly stare at the wine-dark sea as the sun set.

“Excuse me, why are you crying?”

I had been sitting with my head in my arms, weeping despondently, and I was startled by the sudden voice, soft though it was. I was certain the island was deserted, but now, a young man stood before me. He was silhouetted against the sky, the sun shining behind his head like a halo. Where had he come from? I hadn’t heard him come. It was though he’d simply stepped out of the sea.

“I’m sorry,” I said, and my voice sounded cracked from crying. “I thought I was alone.”

“May I sit with you?” the man asked. “You look like you could use a drink, something to soothe you, hm?”

“Yes… yes, thank you.”

He sat down in the sand next to me, languidly stretching his legs out in front of him like he was sitting on the plushest couch. With the sunlight on him, I could see him properly — he was the most beautiful man I’d ever seen in my life. He easily put Theseus to shame. His eyes were leafy green, warm and kind. He was lithe, and his skin looked as pale and smooth as a girl’s, and his lips looked so soft. I couldn’t place the color of his hair — it seemed to be dark brown, but it could have been as dark as the Styx, and when the sun caught it, it looked honey-gold. It fell over his shoulders in loose curls. He wore nothing but a fine purple cloak draped over one shoulder, a golden leopard skin around his waist, and a wreath of ivy on his head. His cheeks were flushed, and he had a bright, easy smile. He was so lovely, so breathtaking, it almost hurt to look at him. With delicate hands, he offered me a kylix brimming with wine. “Please, tell me what has made you so upset.”

I blinked at the kylix, and the leopard skin, and the ivy in his hair. “Are you… a Bacchant?” I’d heard of them. They worshipped a mad and savage god with drunken orgies in the woods, and were said to be able to rip animals or even people limb-from-limb in their frenzy. Not unlike Asterion, I suppose.

He flashed a devious smile. “Maaaaybe.”

I took the kylix and drank deeply. The wine was sweet, and somehow, I felt immediately calmer. Slowly, amid my lingering sobs, I told the story — about Asterion, and my father, and the tributes, how I’d decided to help Theseus, how we’d found our way through the Labyrinth, how Theseus had killed Asterion, how Theseus had been so heartless, and how he had apparently left me to die on a deserted island. By the time I finished talking, the kylix was empty.

“How do you feel now?” he asked me.

“Better… I think. But I’m still devastated, and… guilty. My brother’s death… it was really my fault, and I don’t know if I did the right thing or not. Do you think it’s wrong for me to grieve for my brother? I mean… he was a monster…”

“No. I don’t think it’s wrong. It is perfectly understandable that you would mourn your brother.”

“If I had let the Athenians die, I would have mourned for them, too.” I sighed.

“Yes. There must be blood; one sacrifice was traded for another, Asterion, the worthy bull. It is okay to grieve, for as long as you need to, but do not wallow in despair.”

“I tend to do that. I don’t remember the last time I was completely happy. I thought Theseus would make me happy, but… then… I wish I had my Labyrinth back! It was at least soothing down there.”

“It pains me to see people sad,” he said. He handed me the kylix again, and it was once again full of wine. I hadn’t seen him fill it. “Pleasure is a state of mind. The best way to rid yourself of sadness is to focus on things that make you happy. There is always something to take pleasure in! Like the beauty of the sunset, or the sound of the lapping waves. Or wine!”

“Not when you are abandoned to die, with no way off the island,” I said. “How did you get here, anyway? I don’t see a boat.”

“I have my ways,” he said cryptically, with that same mischievous smile. That smile and the teasing sparkle in his eyes were so adorable. His beauty is something to take pleasure in, I suddenly thought, and his company, and kindness…

I took another draught of the wine. “Why are the gods so cruel to me?” I murmured, more to myself than to him.

“The gods are not cruel to you.” He stated it with complete confidence, as though it were an undeniable fact, not as though he were trying to convince me.

“It certainly seems that way,” I replied.

“Life can often seem that way, but then, it gets better, and you will find that the gods favor you,” he said.

“Well… I suppose that must be true, if handsome strangers pop out of nowhere to comfort women.”

He beamed. “Exactly!” He took the kylix back from me, threw his head back, and drained about half of it in one gulp. “You know, I was stranded on a desert island like this one once.”

“Wait, what? You were?”

“Yes! It was a long time ago now, but I was just as pretty back then, and just as fond of wearing purple. Purple is the best color, you know.” He winked. “Anyway, so I was lying asleep on a beach and—” he took another swig of the wine, “a pirate ship rows by…”

“Are you drunk?”

“Always, darling!” That roguish grin of his was really starting to win me over. “Anyway, the pirates saw me sleeping on the beach, saw how pretty I was and saw my fine purple robes, and thought I was a prince. Well. They weren’t wrong… I technically am a prince of Thebes, on my mother’s side.” He laughed like he had just told the most hilarious joke and had another sip of the wine. The amount of wine in the kylix never seemed to get any lower.

“Does that mean… you’re a bastard?” I asked hesitantly.

“Yes, yes it does! I’m such a bastard. I mean… I was born out of wedlock. And my father’s wife, oooh, she hates me.” Another sip of the wine. “Never get on her bad side if you can help it.” He pointed at me as if this was the most important information I could ever learn, and I laughed. “She can’t touch me now, but she drove me mad when I was younger. Literally. Anyway, so these pirates kidnapped me. Thought I’d make a damn cute catamite, and I certainly would, but that’s beside the point. You don’t and kidnap boys no matter how pretty they are. I tried to tell my dad that, but it didn’t go over well.” Another sip of the wine.

“You are slender, but I bet you could take Theseus in a drinking contest.”

“Oh, I could take aaaaaanyone in a drinking contest! Never lost one yet!” His face was glowing, not just with blush from the wine but also with infectious joy. I slowly forgot about my misfortunes as I listened to his story. “So they tried to tie me to the ship’s mast, but found they couldn’t do it. I only tolerate bondage on my own terms. And then…” There was suddenly a mad gleam in his green eyes. “I covered their ship in grapevines, and ivy, and flowers, and the delicious smell of wine. I can’t imagine why such delightful things frightened them so. But I thought I’d scare them more, see, because it was funny. So I turned into a lion! And they flung themselves overboard in fear!” He laughed, and his laugh sounded as musical as flutes on a clear morning, but it had a maddened edge to it. “But I pitied them, y’know?” he continued. “Just as you pity your brother. So I changed them into dolphins. So they wouldn’t drown.”

“You changed… you turned into… did… did your god give you those powers? Or… are you just… really… drunk?” But I knew. I think that intuitively, I knew the whole time.

“Easy,” he said, once again raising the bottomless kylix to his lips with that knowing smile. “I’m really drunk.”

At this, I burst out laughing, and my laugh sounded almost unfamiliar to my own ears. I felt light, carefree, replenished. And then it sank in, that I was speaking to a god. I hastily knelt, and dropped my head before him, although he was still sitting next to me. “Lord Dionysus! Son of Zeus! Lord, lord, thank you for coming to me, for talking to me, for relieving me of my pain, for freeing me from my suffering…”

“You’re welcome, Ariadne.” He lifted my face, so that I was staring up into his eyes, which were now vivid reddish-purple, the color of ripe grapes. A richly purple aura surrounded him, proclaiming his divinity. In his hand was his staff, a fennel stalk topped with a pinecone that dripped with honey, twined with ivy and purple ribbons. And he had horns, bull’s horns just like my brother’s, magnificent and deadly sharp. They curved up above his brow, as much his crown as the wreath of ivy in his hair. The imposing horns created a striking contrast with his delicate features, but they looked right, somehow. Like this was how he was supposed to look.

I didn’t know what to say. My mind had gone suddenly blank. “I’ve never known great Dionysus to have horns,” I blurted.

“Not many get to see them,” he said, his voice suddenly slow and solemn. “Ariadne, will you dance with me?”

Whatever I had expected him to say, it was not that. “Wh—what?”

“Dance with me!” He stood up and twirled off across the beach. His hair floated around his shoulders, the ribbons on his thyrsus arced through the air like the rainbow, and his expression was one of elation. He screamed in ecstasy, and it was an inhuman sound, like the crowing of some unearthly bird. At that, the air filled with cacophonous music — flutes, drums, cymbals, rattles, castanets.

A command echoed inside my head. No, not a command — a compulsion: DANCE! DANCE!

So I danced with the bull-horned god. “Dancing” barely even begins to describe what I was doing. I was filled with an overwhelming, indescribable feeling, like I didn’t fit in my own skin. Like I was about to be lifted out of my own shoulders! I moved like my body was doing everything it could to express this ineffable thing inside me that was so much bigger than me. I spun, I leapt, I ran, I stamped my feet in the sand, I moved wherever the feeling took me. It burned like fire. And Dionysus was all I could perceive. I screamed with both intense rapture and pure, genuine worship: “EUOI! EUOI! EUOI!”

I met his eyes, and there I saw all the raw ferocity of a bull or a great cat, as well as chaos and lust and debauchery and pure mania. All the forces strong enough to tear a person apart! I desperately thirsted for something I could not name. It was more than wine, more than flesh, more than blood. Dionysus took me in his arms, and kissed me on the lips. Passion overtook me.

Maybe I fainted in exhilaration, or maybe I was simply too drunk to remember. All I know was that I was eventually awakened by the sunrise and the sound of lapping waves. And Dionysus… was still there. He hadn’t disappeared into the night, he was still sleeping there in the sand, looking blissful and alluring in his sleep. His tousled curls tumbled over the sand, his soft hand was upturned beside his head, and his lips were parted invitingly. He lay on his purple cloak, and was using the leopard pelt like a blanket, though it was only carelessly draped over his waist.

“Lord… thank you for not leaving me,” I whispered.

His long eyelashes fluttered, and then his eyes opened, once again appearing vine-green. “Mmmm… sleep well?”

“Yes.” I desperately wanted to kiss him, and the seductive look in his eyes tempted me. “May I… touch you?”

“Darling, you may touch me anywhere you like,” he purred. Ravenously, I wrapped my arms around his waist, pressed my chest to his, and our lips met. He still tasted like wine, and I drank him in the way I would wine. We lay there for a moment, entangled in each other’s arms like grape and ivy vines, idly caressing each other’s skin and hair.

“M’lord…” I whispered, “perhaps it might be impertinent to ask, but… what am I going to do now? I can’t go home. I don’t really want to go to Athens. And I still have no way off this island.”

“Why, Ariadne,” he gave me a teasing smile. “If I may be so bold, I hoped you would join me! In fact… I hope you might marry me.”

I was so taken aback by this that I immediately sat up. “You… you’re serious? Marry you?” I knew that gods frequently took mortal lovers, but this was unimaginable. “Actually marry you?”

“Yes, Ariadne. I love you.” He said it with the same sweetness and sincerity that he initially approached me with. Theseus had said no such thing. “You are not destined to become queen of Athens, but perhaps you might be my queen, if you are willing.”

I burst into tears, but they weren’t tears of sadness this time. They were tears of overwhelm, the same kind of overflowing sensation that I’d felt while dancing. “You love me?”

“I am absolutely besotted, my darling! I have had many lovers, but I had not fallen so madly in love since Ampelos, my first love, my darling vine.” A grapevine appeared between his fingers and twined up his arm. “Perhaps something in me is inclined towards mortals over gods, which is understandable, given my parentage. But, that should be no problem. I will bring you to Olympus, and love you for all of time.”

“How… why me?” I sputtered. “What have I done to deserve this?”

“Ariadne, you are letting your human mind interfere, and convince you that you are not worthy to be in my presence. Did you feel unworthy last night, while we were dancing?”

“No… I felt… there was no such thing.”

“Ariadne, do you love me?”

I struggled to find any word that could properly describe how I felt about him. “You are… utterly intoxicating.”

He giggled like a shy maiden. “I get that a lot. And, if you could be worthy of having me as a husband, would you have me?”

Yes. My body and soul ached and burned with wanting. And he made me extraordinarily happy! I’d never dared to believe a god would love me enough to marry me, but that disbelief was only getting in my way.

He looked me dead in the eyes. I nearly flinched away from the intensity of his gaze, and the shimmering madness behind it. “You are more than you realize, Ariadne, guide in the dark, guardian of the gates of initiation. You are intelligent and witty and brave, and you fear no darkness or madness or savagery, do you? You faced them all in the Labyrinth. You would make an excellent addition to my thiasus, even if you decide not to marry me. Ariadne, the most holy and pure, Lady of the Labyrinth.” His words reverberated deep in the labyrinthine pathways of my own mind and soul, like he had revealed an ancient truth that I had known once, but forgotten.

“The Labyrinth is a holy place, of contemplation and transformation. Isn’t it? Not of death.”

He smiled that gorgeous, winning smile again. “Yes! You understand! And even where there is death, it is not absolute.” His eyes shone with feverish excitement. “Oh, I have so much to teach you!”

“Lord Dionysus, I would be honored beyond imagining if I were to become your wife.”

“So is that a yes? You will marry me?”

Something about him felt right in a way that I could not put words to, like the Fates had done all they could to bring me to this moment. This god loved me, more than the other gods love their conquests, more than I could comprehend. “Yes! I will marry you!”

At that, a cool wind blew across the island, swirling his dark hair around his face and making all the vegetation appear to shimmer. It was like the island itself was affirming my decision. “Then, Ariadne, we shall rule the revel together! In honor of our engagement…” A magnificent diadem appeared in his hands, sparkling with seven gemstones like stars. He placed it on my head, and gave me a warm kiss on my lips. “Ariadne, my bride, may you never thirst. May your lusts never go unsatisfied. May your heart always be light and joyful.”

“Thank you. Thank you, m’lord!”

“You can stop calling me that. If we are to be married, you can simply call me by my name. Or, call me what pleases you. Now, come with me!” He stood, offering me his hand. “Unless you would rather spend some more alone time together, I should finally take you off this island! I will take you home to Nysa, or perhaps to Arcadia, and we will have to throw the most spectacular bacchanal in celebration of our marriage!”

“How will we travel?”

He led me down the beach like a child eager to show something to their parent, and gestured toward a golden chariot drawn by two gigantic panthers. The chariot itself was decorated in images of swirling grapevines and serpents and satyrs making love, and the cats’ pelts gleamed. “Oh, gods… I mean… wow. Does it move over water?”

“It flies, silly!” He stood inside it and beckoned to me. “These cats can run on the wind. Hermes gave them to me.”

I climbed into the chariot and held on for dear life as the panthers bounded into the air with great strides. Soon the chariot was blazing through the bright air, and Naxos was far behind us. Dionysus laughed into the wind, which blew his long hair back from his face. As radiant as he was, I was more than a little terrified of speeding through the air high above the sea in a chariot, and felt like I would fall off at any second, although not even my diadem was dislodged from my head.

“You look terror-stricken, Ariadne. Would you like me to tell you another amusing story? That seems to have cheered you up the last time!”

“That depends on whether you can drive a chariot and get incredibly drunk at the same time.”

He laughed uproariously. “Oh, I love you so much! I can do anything and get incredibly drunk, if you were wondering. So, anyway, the story… Mortals have mixed opinions of me. Most love my parties and stories and love my wine, but they seem a bit put off by the madness and violence and lust it brings out in them… Not sure why, it’s not as though all of that wasn’t there to begin with… Mortal kings do not like this, and some of them can be quite unkind to my worshippers, testing the limits of my mercy… but one of them allowed my mentor, Silenus, to sleep in his garden. So kind of him! So of course I offered him any reward he might wish for, and… he wished that everything he touched would turn to gold.”

“Ooh. Let me guess, it backfired?”

“Oh, did it backfire! His food turned to gold and he nearly starved, and even his daughter turned to gold! Hardly my fault, of course. I promised to give him what he asked for, and I did, he just happened to be an idiot. He had the chance to wish for anything in the world, and he chose something as shallow and pointless as gold. Not to mention, he clearly had never heard of inflation, which makes me worry about his kingdom’s economy. Oh, well. He learned, and I changed everything back. I always let humans indulge themselves, but I am not a god of excess. Either they are satisfied by their pleasures, or they learn their lesson fast. The moral of the story: Know your tolerance. Also, if you want to turn things to gold, you have to do it the hard way. Hermes and I were just discussing how to turn lead to gold, in fact…”

His soothing voice and hilarious tales put me at ease, until we were traveling over beautiful mountains and verdant valleys. I had never seen mainland Greece, but the view of it from the flying chariot was incredible. I was no longer afraid of falling. As we flew, I felt as if the wind stripped me of the cares and sorrows of my former life. Dionysus had set me free. I smiled at him, and he smiled at me as the chariot descended into the lush, hidden valley where a throng of Maenads and satyrs waited to welcome home their lord and his queen.

Dionysus helped me out of the chariot, and I stood before the thiasus, their maddened eyes all turned upon me. “I am the bride of Dionysus,” I proclaimed. “I am Ariadne of the Labyrinth.”

#retellings #submission #long post

[imnotusedtobeingloved]

YOU NEED TO BURN ME

(PLEASE DON’T REPOST/REBLOG)

Warnings: heartbreak, betrayal.

Pairing: Zuko x f!Reader

Characters: Zuko, Katara, Aang, Toph, Sokka.

Requested: I guess?

Disclaimer: I do not own the characters, nor the gif. Credit to the owners.

Summary: Part four of “destiny is a funny thing”.

previous part

A/N: Welcome to the next part!

Have fun reading!

“Prince Zuko,” Your tone was sharper than a knife. “I challenge you to an Agni Kai,”

The words hung in the air, like smoke filling your lungs. You were close enough to smell his jamine scent and see the sweat above his brow. His golden orbs widened. As if he couldn’t believe what you’d just said. They held sorrow within and yet they dared to gift you with so much warmth. So different from his sisters eyes. “(Y/N)...,” You clenched your fists by your sides, making sparks fly. “Come on, fire prince. Teach me!”

Zuko raised his hands in surrender, stepping backwards. You’d transformed the teen into a scared little boy. “I don’t want to fight you,” he breathed. This time he was the one pleading for mercy. While his face showed a painful mixture of heartbreak and agony, yours remained furious.

“Funny,” you spat, disgust lacing your voice. Your heart suffered, seeing him like that, but your anger had it’s grip so tight around your throat that you were desperate to breathe again. And for that, only one solution remained. Zuko had to go. You were sick of him playing games with your feelings. “The last time i said that, you answered with something like this!” You delivered a kick through the air, flames following the motion. Zuko gasped, rolling sideways to escape your fire. “(Y/N)! Wait!” You could hear Aang panicking behind you, followed by the voices of Katara, Sokka and Toph, who all tried to talk you out of the fight.

“You can’t run from me forever, Zuko!” you yelled, when he took off. Following close behind, your rage didn’t fail you. Lashes of fire soon hidered his escape. “(Y/N), Stop it!” he screamed. His voice broke before he could say anything else. He stumbled and fell, barely missing one of your shots and covering his face. “You need to burn me to stop, remember?” He leaned on his hands, slowy getting back up. Your words seemed to hit him harder than your flames. “Do it!” You demanded, leaning forward and raising your hands.

Finally he responded, running up to you with a growl.

You prepared to dodge his onslaught, only to gasp, when you were caged by his arms instead. He held you in a tight grip. Tighter than your anger ever could. Your hands were trapped between you, body pressed against his. “I won’t fight you, (Y/N),” He whispered, lips residing right next to your ear. “Burn me if you must, but please don’t force me to hurt you again. Our first fight was painful enough,” Your breath hitched, but you didn’t stay unresponsive for long. Getting away seemed hopeless as you tugged and pulled on on him, trying to be freed.

“Let me go!” You hissed, banging your fists against his chest as much as you could. But his grip around you wouldn’t budge. Your whole being was enveloped by him. And your bottled up frustrations gushed out. All at once. “Let me go...” You hated how your voice shook and your eyes watered, as you slumped in his grip. “No,” he murmured, holding onto you. “I made that mistake one time and i’m not doing it again. I’m sorry that i hurt you. I was blind to choose the Fire Nation over my home. I still love you (Y/N). I’ve never stopped,”

Faint footsteps appeared behind you. Zuko pulled away when they reached the platform, taking a step back. You quickly wiped the few tears that had escaped from your cheeks. The fight didn’t end like you thought it would. It didn’t even end like an Agni Kai was supposed to end. You hadn’t thought that you would win. Though you had thought that you would beat him. And that it would give you some kind of clarity. Or satisfaction. But it didn’t. Not at all. It left you lonely. Empty. When Zuko hugged you, he seemed to have taken your anger with him. Only disappointment remained.

“(Y/N),” Katara came up behind you, putting a hand on your shoulder. “Are you okay?” You made an effort to put a smile on your face. You almost regretted that the anger had disappeared. It felt good to feel something again. Now there was nothing but vacancy. “I’m fine,” You turned your head around to her, grinning slightly. “Thanks, Katara,” Then you turned and went. Away from their worried looks and from the lover you once knew. In mere seconds you’d disappeared from their view, unable to hear Toph’s response to your answer. “She’s lying...,”

You spend the rest of the day alone, only returning to camp the next morning. The fact that Zuko was now part of the Team was a lot to take it. You mulled over it, time and time again. Innitially you’d wanted to leave. Turn your back on them all and be on your merry way. But the longer you thought about it, the more you realized that you couldn’t do it. You just couldn’t. Even the mere thought of leaving felt wrong. So you decided to stick with them. Leaving your friends wasn’t the right choice. And if that meant tolerating Zuko, then so be it. At least this way you could protect them, if he stabbed them in the back again.

Upon your return you spottet Zuko and Aang standing on the balcony of and upside down pagonda in the temple. The air bender was the first to recognize you, waving a hand. “Hey, (Y/N)!” He yelled, as you smirked giving him a wave of your own. “Do you want to watch us train? Maybe you can help!” You raised your brows, with a sideways glance at Zuko. “Uhm...,” As it turned out, you didn’t have much of a choice. The boy dragged you with him until you were seated on a large stone nearby. It provided the perfect view on the scene. You sighed, shifting in your seat, as Aang walked back to stand in front of his instructor.

“I know you’re nervous, but remember, firebending itself is not something to fear,” Zuko encouraged. Aang sighed heavily. “Okay. Not something to fear,” The prince nodded.

“But if you don’t respect it,” He raised his voice, leaning close to his students face. “It’ll chew you up and spit you out like an angry komodo rhino!” Aang yelped, but Zuko didn’t let him stray from his path. You raised a brow at his teaching methods, but decided to remain silent for now.

“Now show me what you’ve got. Any amount of fire you can make,” The Avatar nodded, inhaling nervously, before making a forward motion with his hand. A pitiful cloud of smoke appeared and died before any kind of spark could live. He looked back at his teacher with a sheepish look in his eyes. “Maybe I need a little more instruction. Perhaps a demonstration?”

Zuko agreed, spreading his arms. “Good idea. You might wanna take a couple steps back,” The boy did as he was told, giving the prince more room to occupy. He watched as the fire bender took a deep breath, preparing to guide the fire. With a strong punch through the air, he produced a tiny flame. Aang clapped his hands, applauding the display. But Zuko was appaled. “What was that? That was the worst firebending I’ve ever seen!”

“Usually it’s called a ‘failure’,” you said, crossing your arms. The Avatar, on the other hand, expressed his appreciation. “I thought it was ... nice,” He smiled slightly and shrugged. Zuko grunted, trying to firebend again, and again, and again. But each time the outcome seemed to get worse. He looked at his palms with furrowed brows. “Why is this happening?” Aang rubbed his head, trying to think of a solution. “Maybe it’s the altitude,”

His mentor looked back at him. “Yeah, could be,” Overcoming his innitial frustration, he kept trying, but the fire wouldn’t budge. Nothing he did seemed to work. “What is wrong with you?” You asked, getting agitated. “I don’t know!” He gave back with just as much force. Meanwhile his student had taken a seat on a broken pillar next to you and yawned, before he lied down. “Just breathe, and ...,” Zuko said to himself, delivering another blast with no improvement. “That one kind of felt hot,” Aang said, getting up. But it only managed to enrage his master even more. “Don’t patronize me! You know what it’s supposed to look like!”

“Sorry, Sifu Hotman,” Zuko raised his hands, groaning as Aang cringed. “And stop calling me that!” You raised a hand to your mouth to stiffle a giggle. That nickname would be remembered until the end of time. “(Y/N), maybe you can show him,” Blankly he stared at you, waiting for an answer. You briefly ginned at Aang. “Told you i was the better choice,” He laughed as you got up and stepped forward. Air filled your lungs as you took a deep breath, focusing all your attention on your bending. On the warmth that flowed within your veins. You delivered a kick into the air, expecting flames to shoot with the motion, but all that got out was a puff of smoke. You gasped, swirling around to the guys. “What...?” You tried to conjure a flame in your palm. A little one. Nothing too hard. But no matter how long you stared at your hand, nothing came from it. “What’s happening to me?” Zuko apparently recognized the panic in your voice and furrowed his brows. “Hey, i’m sure it’s going to be okay,” He raised a hand as if he wanted to place it on your shoulder to comfort you, only to draw back in the last second. “We just have to-”

“Hey, jerks! Mind if I watch you three jerks do your jerkbending?” Sokka interrupted, suddenly invading the field, walking towards the instructors and their pupil, while munching on an apple. The prince lashed his arm to the side, pointing to the other end of the platform. “Get out of here!” He dropped the half-eaten apple and surrendered. “Okay, take it easy. I was just kiddin’ around,” He got up and turned, adjusting his shirt in the process.

“Jerkbending, still got it,” He laughed, while Zuko dropped his head and groaned.

Losing your bending was scary. It was as if you’d lost a part of your identity. A part that made you who you were. No matter how often you’d tried to bend over the course of the day, it wouldn’t come back. Eventually, when the evening came, you busied yourself with feeding Appa, who happily chewed on his hay. Zuko leaded on a column not too far from you, arms crossed and lost in his thoughts. You wondered what he was thinking about. He didn’t seem as scared as you.

A few minutes passed, before he left.

“Listen everybody, I’ve got some pretty bad news,” Zuko stated, walking up to the campfire. “I’ve lost my stuff,” Toph raised both hands to her head, underlining her innocence. “Don’t look at me,” She stated, folding her arms. “I didn’t touch your stuff,” He lowered his gaze. “I’m talking about my firebending. It’s gone,”

The group stared at him silently, until Katara burst out laughing, claiming all attention for herself. You flinched upon the sound. At this point you couldn’t help but feel bad for him. It was only a tiny part of you that felt sorry, and you didn’t like it one bit. But truly? You and him were stuck in the exact same situation. The prince punished her with an annoyed expression, but it didn’t seem to faze her. ”I’m sorry. I’m just laughing at the irony. You know, how it would’ve been nice for us if you lost your firebending a long time ago.” Katara said. Zuko hesitated, trying to explain the situation. “Well, it’s not lost. It’s just ... weaker for some reason,” She held up her bowl of soup, glaring at him over the brim. “Maybe you’re not as good as you think you are,”

Toph smiled scarcastically. “Ouch,”

“I bet it’s because I changed sides.” Zuko said.

“That’s ridiculous.” Katara scowled at him, dismissing the idea.

Opposed to her, Aang gave it a thought. “I don’t know. Maybe it isn’t. Maybe your firebending comes from rage and you just don’t have enough anger to fuel it the way you used to,” Apparently, that was Sokka’s keyword. He leaned towards Zuko, pointing a finger. “Sooo, all we need to do is make Zuko angry. Easy enough,” He poked the fire bender with the hilt of his sword, hitting the head and waist several times.

"Okay, cut it out!” The prince growled, as Sokka grew more amused by the second. The boy stopped, as his sword slipped from his hands. “Look, even if you’re right, I don’t want to rely on hate and anger anymore. There has to be another way,” Zuko said, rubbing his nose. You walked through the pillars, coming to stand next to him. “I’ve lost my bending too,” You confessed, feeling lightheaded. Now the water benders features softened. The groups pitiful looks made you feel sick to your stomach. Like a confirmation that something was genuinely wrong with you. Sokka sat back down next to the eath bender, who spoke up next. “You’re gonna need to learn to draw your firebending from a different source. I recommend the original source,” She explained, stuffing food in her mouth. “How’re they supposed to do that‌? By jumping into a volcano‌?” Sokka asked, eyeing her excitedly.

“No. Zuko and (Y/N) need to go back to whatever the original source of firebending is,” Everybody listened closely, as she explained the impact of original sources on their benders. She, herself, had learned it from the badgermoles. The innitial earth benders. “They were blind, just like me. So we understood each other. I was able to learn earthbending, not just as a martial art, but as an extension of my senses. For them, the original earthbenders, it wasn’t just about fighting. It was their way of interacting with the world,” She grinned, focusing back on her meal.

“That’s amazing, Toph! I learned from the monks, but the original airbenders were the sky bison,” Aang leaned to the right, to get a glimpse at Appa eating his hay in the distance. “Maybe you can give me a lesson sometime, buddy,” He growled from the shed. “Well, this doesn’t help us. The original firebenders were the dragons, and they’re extinct,” Zuko sighed, looking at the group. “What do you mean‌? Roku had a dragon, and there were plenty of dragons when I was a kid,” You smiled at Aangs words. He was, still, very much a kid. Even if he was 112 years old. “Well, they aren’t around anymore, okay?” His counterpart yelled, making the Avatar recoil. “Okay, okay. I’m sorry,” He moved his arms in an appeasing manner.

“Maybe there’s another way. The first people to learn from the dragons were the ancient Sun Warriors,” You reminisced, walking towards a little fountain. Zuko’s stance lost some of it’s tension. Aang was quick to follow, coming up beside you. “Sun Warriors? Well, I know they weren’t around when I was a kid,” His teacher soon stood next to you, turning his head towards him. “No, they died off thousands of years ago. But their civilization wasn’t too far from where we are now. Maybe we can learn something by poking around their ruins,” Aang nodded. “It could be worth a try. It’s like the monks used to tell me. Sometimes, the shadows of the past can be felt by the present,”

“So, what?” Sokka spoke up behind you. You glanced at him over your shoulder. “Maybe you’ll pick up some super old Sun Warrior energy just by standing where they stood a thousand years ago?” Zuko nodded shortly.

“More or less. Either we find a new way to firebend, or the Avatar has to find some new teachers,”

tags: @zvkonation​ @viva-la-millennia​ @randomness501​ @drheinzd​ @kaylove12​ @duh-dobrik​ @yeetscreetiwannaeat​ @ ashnkamfeun   @hailkyoshi​ @shortmexicangirl​ @animexholic​ @sorrythatspussynal​

#zuko x reader #zuko imagine #avatar the last airbender #zuko x y/n

[melanielocke]

Lost in the Shadows - Chapter 35

AO3

Taglist: @alastaircarstairsdefenselawyer @foxglove-airmid @alastair-esfandiyar-carstairs1 @justanormaldemon @styxdrawings @ipromiseiwillwrite @a-dream-dirty-and-bruised

Previous Chapter: Chapter 34

Next Chapter: To be posted

Thomas woke up in his bed, Alastair beside him. He tried to push away the thought that if this hadn’t gone well, he could have found Alastair’s dead body here when he woke up. But Alastair was alive, he pushed himself up and out of the bed. Thomas didn’t know how fast he had to pull those blankets off of him. The fever was gone, his memory made sense again, and those blankets were far too warm for this weather. Alastair seemed a little disoriented still, rubbing his head painfully and blinking sleep out of his eye.

‘We’re back,’ Thomas said.

‘And alive,’ Alastair added. ‘Where are Lucie and Cordelia?’

‘They came to the realm of the thief in their bodies,’ Thomas said. ‘So I assume they entered a gateway back to the equivalent of that palace in this world.’

Alastair groaned. ‘That means they could be anywhere now. They might not even be in this country.’

Thomas nodded. He didn’t know what else to say. He guessed they could call Lucie and Cordelia. But he also knew he needed to speak with Alastair about what he’d done, and Thomas had no idea how. He tried not to let it show, but he was very upset about the choice Alastair had made.

It had worked out in the end, he had to give Alastair that. They’d won and they were all alive. If Alastair hadn’t done what he did, Thomas would not have survived. His soul might have been saved, but there was no way he could have come back to life.

Part of him was grateful. Part of him was terrified. Part of him was angry. He didn’t know how to make sense of those feelings. He was terrified of what else Alastair would do when it came to Thomas’ safety. He knew Alastair was not quite alright, he knew he did not believe he was worthy of love and affection, but he had not expected Alastair to give up his soul for him. Alastair couldn’t have known it would work out in the end. He had not counted on it, nor had he told anyone of his plans. He’d done this on his own.

Alastair had found his phone and was calling Cordelia, promising to come pick her up.

‘She and Lucie are still in Scotland, fortunately, but it’s a bit of a drive. They sent me their location, I can go pick them up there.’

Thomas frowned. ‘Are you sure you’re up for it?’ he asked.

‘Shouldn’t be a problem,’ Alastair said. ‘I’m tired, but not worse than usual. Had not expected that, but I have been asleep for longer than I have in a while.’

Alastair leaned in for a kiss, but Thomas did not reciprocate. A bit unsure, Alastair turned around and left. ‘I’ll see you when we get back.’

Thomas changed into some clean clothes, his pajamas weren’t that comfortable anymore. He guessed he could use a shower too, but that would come later. He vaguely remembered his sisters being here, and he wanted to let everyone know he was alright.

As expected, his father was pacing back and forth through the house, to everyone’s annoyance. His father needed something to do in stressful times, and lately he’d been unable to do anything.

‘You’re alive,’ his father said, pulling him into a hug. ‘You really are alive.’

‘We did it. Cordelia killed the thief, no one owes him souls anymore,’ Thomas said. ‘It’s over.’

Thomas sat down on the couch next to his mother. Unlike Alastair he was still exhausted from everything and did not feel as if he’s been sleeping at all. His mother instantly felt his forehead, Thomas suspected she did it without thinking by now.

‘You don’t seem feverish anymore,’ she said.

‘No, I’m not sick. Still a little tired, but the fever should be gone,’ Thomas said. ‘What time is it?’

‘Eight in the evening. You must be starving, Tom.’

Thomas guessed that was true. He had barely eaten anything the past days, and he had his appetite back.

‘I’ll make you something to eat,’ his mother said. ‘If you’re hungry before it’s done, you could heat up some leftover soup.’

Thomas started with the soup, eating while lost in thought. Why had Alastair done it? Could Thomas still be with him? He didn’t want them to break up, he would miss Alastair terribly, but he also wasn’t sure if he could make it work if they stayed together after this. He didn’t know what to do.

***

‘Where the hell are we?’ Cordelia asked.

She and Lucie appeared at the parking lot of an old castle somewhere. It didn’t look anything like what the thief had built, but it did appear they were still in Scotland. Cordelia hoped they weren’t too far away from the others. Alastair and Thomas weren’t with them, but Cordelia guessed that made sense. They’d gone back to their own bodies, which were still in Thomas’ bed.

‘About an hour’s drive away,’ Lucie said. ‘And I’m all out of snacks.’

‘Alastair’s calling,’ Cordelia said.

Alastair agreed to pick them up at the parking lot and Cordelia texted him her live location. Nothing to do but wait now, and she found a bench for the two of them to sit down on.

‘I still have some snacks,’ Cordelia offered. ‘I imagine you’re exhausted.’

‘I could probably sleep for a hundred years,’ Lucie said. ‘But I won’t. Waking up alone in a new century is not how I’d planned my life. Maybe I’ll sleep for a week though.’

‘We’re in our world now, not in between,’ Cordelia said. ‘Your mother slept in the land in between and time moved differently then. I think that’s why when she woke up, over a hundred years had passed.’

‘Still, I think I need a nap,’ Lucie said.

Cordelia allowed Lucie to lie down in her lap, closing her eyes. She sometimes envied Lucie’s ability to sleep everywhere. Cordelia was tired too, but didn’t know how to rest. Besides, someone had to stay awake until Alastair got here. An empty parking lot was not exactly a safe place for women at this hour. Of course, if some human tried to harm them, they wouldn’t know what they were up against.

She gently stroke Lucie’s head. She didn’t stir, she really was in a deep sleep. It was another one and a half hour until Alastair showed up. She was lucky she and Lucie hadn’t ended up in another country. That would have been problematic without a passport or money.

Cordelia felt changed, somehow. As if a piece of the darkness had traveled with her. The reaper had told her she could return to the land in between and the land of the thief whenever she wished, all of them could now. She didn’t know what else had changed. Had Alastair changed too? She wasn’t sure.

‘Thank god, you’re safe,’ Alastair said. ‘Come, let’s go back.’

‘Thank you for coming,’ Cordelia said, waking Lucie.

‘Any time,’ Alastair said. ‘I’m glad you ended up here, rather than in a different country, even if still doesn’t seem like a safe place to have waited so long.’

Cordelia nodded, she and Lucie got in the car and Alastair drove back, going a little above the speed limit, but there was no one else here.

‘How’s Thomas?’ she asked.

‘Alive,’ was all Alastair said.

‘Is he very upset with you?’

Alastair sighed. ‘I don’t know. He didn’t say much, and someone had to come pick you up. We didn’t have time to talk.’

‘Why did you do it?’ Cordelia asked.

‘You read my letter, didn’t you?’ Alastair asked, his voice betraying little emotion.

It was frustrating when he did that, Cordelia knew this could not be anywhere near the full extent of his feelings.

‘Yes. It was upsetting,’ Cordelia said. ‘I’m worried about you, dâdâsh.’

‘No need for that, Layla. You killed the thief of souls, we’re safe,’ Alastair said.

Cordelia began to get frustrated. Did he really not understand why everyone was so upset about what he’d done? She knew it had worked out in the end, that he’d saved Thomas, and she was glad for that, but that didn’t mean what he’d done was right, or healthy. If he’d discussed it as a method to buy them the time they needed, Cordelia might not have liked it, but it would have been a decent plan. But that wasn’t what Alastair had done. He’d chosen to sacrifice his soul for Thomas’, and although that sounded sweet, it wasn’t what any of them would have wanted. It wasn’t what Thomas would have wanted, and to Cordelia it only showed that Alastair still did not value himself.

‘What if it happens again?’ Cordelia asked. ‘We still haven’t found Tatiana, what if she finds some other creature to deal with and comes for us again? Will you sacrifice yourself for Thomas?’

‘I would have done the same for you, Layla,’ he said quietly. ‘You know that, right?’

‘That’s the problem!’ Cordelia yelled. ‘I would not want you to sacrifice yourself for me. I never wanted that, and neither did Thomas.’

‘I only did it because I love him,’ Alastair said. ‘Because I wanted to put his safety and happiness before my own. That’s what it means to love someone, doesn’t it?’

Cordelia didn’t know how to explain what she meant. What he said wasn’t completely wrong, when you loved someone you wanted them to be happy, even if it wasn’t with you. But this wasn’t the same, was it? There was the matter of consent, of course. No one who loved you would want you to make such a sacrifice. She imagined Charles would have, or her father. Perhaps not to the extent Alastair had done, but Alastair’s love for both of them had been closely tied to sacrifice and in the end it had turned bitter because Alastair had gotten hurt over and over again and her father nor Charles had cared about him. The kind of person who would want such a sacrifice from you wasn’t someone who deserved it.

‘Love does not mean sacrifice,’ Cordelia said. ‘And right now, we’re all scared you’re going to hurt yourself.’

‘I don’t want to die, Cordelia,’ Alastair said. ‘I am not suicidal. How many more times do I have to tell you that?’

Cordelia didn’t say anything else. She didn’t know what to say, how to reach Alastair. He didn’t understand, how could she make him? Perhaps Jem would know, or Gideon. Perhaps Alastair would listen to them if he didn’t listen to her.

‘Just so you know, Thomas feels the same way,’ Cordelia said. ‘As I said, he never asked for this, and that why he’s upset.’

‘I saved him,’ Alastair said. ‘If he doesn’t want me anymore after that, it still would have been worth it. Him being upset with me is better dan him being dead.’

***

Jesse was still around, away from his mother now that she’d lost her power. He no longer knew where Tatiana had gone, or if she was still a threat. Lucie knew his soul was free now, but he was still dead, even she could not fix that.

He’d been spending time with Barbara. The dead Barbara that was, as Thomas’ sister Barbara was here too. It was all very confusing, but Lucie had helped Barbara and Eugenia meet their grandmother, and their cousin Jesse. Both had died too young, but were ready to let go now. Uncle Gabriel hadn’t been able to get much time off from work, but had come to meet his mother. It had been a long drive for the little time he had here, but he’d taken it anyway. Gabriel did not remember his mother, but had taken the chance to meet her now, and left shortly after.

Lucie was sitting outside with Jesse. She knew she’d have to say goodbye, he did not want to stay here. Nor should he. It wasn’t much of an afterlife, to stay behind as a ghost, and Jesse should get to have a proper death. That didn’t make it easier though.

‘I cannot promise that you will be alright when you leave,’ Lucie said.

‘I know,’ Jesse said. ‘You do not need to promise me. I will be alright. I have faith in what comes next.’

Lucie had no clue what would happen. The reaper had been unable to tell her, it had to be kept secret. Lucie wasn’t sure why, but guessed it would make sense once it was her time. Hopefully, that would not be anytime soon, for any of them.

‘I wish there’s more I could have done for you.’

‘You saved me from the thief, Lu,’ Jesse said. ‘You gave me a chance at a proper afterlife. There’s nothing more I could have asked for.’

‘Do you remember anything from your time there?’ Lucie asked.

‘Bits and pieces. I think you’re supposed to forget there.’

‘I didn’t forget.’

‘You’re alive,’ Jesse said. ‘You entered that place with a living body, as did Cordelia. I think Thomas remembered because he had to, and Alastair never forgot because he cannot forget. But souls who go there are meant to forget. Barbara remembers only because Alastair made her.’

‘Perhaps Alastair could help you remember too,’ Lucie said.

‘It’s not so bad, to forget,’ Jesse said. ‘I remember who I am, my life. I don’t need memories of that place.’

Lucie had to admit he had a point. Forgetting wasn’t always bad. It made her wonder, was it difficult for Alastair too, that he could never forget?

‘I understand,’ she said. ‘When will you go?’

‘No time like the present, right?’ Jesse said. ‘Barbara will come with me, we’re going together. I’d say I won’t forget you, but I do not know what will happen to my memories on the other side.’

‘That’s alright,’ Lucie said. ‘Because I will remember you. And I hope it’s good, what you find there.’

‘Goodbye, Lucie. It was an honor to know you.’

Jesse walked to Barbara. He looked so normal as he did, almost as if he were alive. Then he took his grandmother’s hand, and they both disappeared. Lucie knew she would not see them again. She knew it was for the best.

***

In the next few days, Thomas continued to avoid Alastair. Whenever he entered a room, Thomas left, and Alastair didn’t know what to do. It was alright, he told himself. Thomas was safe and it would be alright if he didn’t want Alastair anymore. It was bound to happen anyway. But Alastair still found himself longing for Thomas. His silence was more painful than he could have imagined, and Alastair didn’t know how to fix this. How could he, if Thomas wouldn’t even speak to him?

‘Just so you know, if he dumps you, Kamala and I are keeping you,’ Eugenia said. ‘I’m sure dad feels the same way.’

He’d spent time with Thomas’ sister and her girlfriend the past few days. Lucie and Cordelia were mainly together, and Alastair understood. They were recovering from what happened, and wanted to be together now that they’d finally realized they loved each other.

Barbara had returned home. Alastair liked her, but didn’t get along as easily with her as with Eugenia. It wasn’t her fault, really, Alastair just didn’t know what to talk about with her. Eugenia and Kamala were both students at the same university Alastair went to, Kamala as a medical student and Eugenia was a year ahead in sociology. She could tell him exactly what to expect.

James was still around as well, he’d spent most of his time around Thomas and Lucie. Alastair hadn’t spoken to him apart from a short apology for what happened in school. He’d apologized to at the end of the school year before he’d transferred, but wasn’t sure James remembered at all. He’d put his school days behind him. He hoped James could do, but wasn’t sure if they could ever be friends. He found Lucie easier to get along with, which Lucie claimed was because they were probably both autistic. James seemed to have accepted his apology this time at least.

‘I’m not sure that would be right,’ Alastair said. ‘I don’t think Thomas wants me around anymore.’

‘If he’s dumping you, he’s an idiot,’ Eugenia said. ‘I hope you two can work it out, but if not, you’re still our friend.’

Alastair frowned. ‘We just met.’

‘Does that matter?’ Eugenia asked.

‘I don’t really have friends,’ Alastair added. ‘I don’t know how to be someone’s friend.’

‘Even more reason to accept me and Kamala as your friends. Doesn’t look like you have many options, and you’re not getting rid of us that easily.’

‘Genie is very determined,’ Kamala added. ‘I don’t think it’s wise to try to escape us. You live in London too, right?’

‘Yes,’ Alastair said, although he was not yet sure which part of London. Jem’s offer was tempting, but could he leave his mother now that she was having a baby?

Alastair had called her every day since making it back from the thief’s realm, discussing the baby, potential names, and what he’d do after the summer. His mother had encouraged him to choose for himself, not her, and she would be fine if he moved out. Alastair had not yet made a decision.

‘Great, then we’ll have plenty of opportunities to spend time together,’ Eugenia said. ‘Kamala currently lives in a cupboard under the stairs, but I live with my parents and have the space to host us.’

Alastair frowned. ‘A cupboard?’

‘It’s not a cupboard under the stairs. But it’s small,’ Kamala said. ‘My parents disowned me, had to take what I could get.’

‘Oh, I’m sorry,’ Alastair said.

Kamala shrugged. ‘It’s fine. Without them, I can finally figure out who I am, rather than who they want me to be.’

Although he didn’t know them well yet, Alastair did like Kamala and Eugenia so far. He guessed he had no clue how to be a friend, but he was figuring it out, and they provided a decent distraction from Thomas, who still refused to speak to him. Eugenia claimed Alastair should just go talk to him, but he didn’t dare. He was scared he would be abandoned again, although this wasn’t exactly a great situation either.

After dinner, Alastair was reading on the couch, a book Kamala had recommended to him. She and Eugenia both liked to read, which was nice because if he was unable to keep a conversation going they could always discuss books they liked.

‘How have you been?’

Gideon had come to sit down next to him. The past days he’d mostly been around Thomas, which Alastair could understand. It must have been very upsetting to almost watch him die. His arm had been broken, Alastair had learnt, but Kamala’s magic had sped up the healing process considerably.

‘Eugenia and Kamala have been kind to me,’ he said.

‘Yes, it’s nice you’re getting along so well with them. Genie likes you a lot. But you haven’t spoken to Thomas at all, have you?’

‘I haven’t,’ Alastair admitted. ‘He’s been avoiding me. I knew he’d realize I wasn’t worth it eventually, but I didn’t expect it to be so soon.’

Nor had he expected it to hurt so much, but he didn’t say that out loud.

‘Why do you believe you aren’t worth it?’ Gideon asked.

Alastair wasn’t sure what to answer. ‘He deserves someone whole, someone who’s not broken like me. I’m too broken, too difficult.’

‘You’re not too broken to be loved, Alastair,’ Gideon said. ‘Thomas is very upset about what you did. He knows he needs to talk to you, he’s been avoiding you because he doesn’t like difficult conversations.’

‘He doesn’t want me anymore,’ Alastair said. ‘But I don’t understand why he’s upset that I saved his life.’

‘You scared him,’ Gideon said. ‘You scared all of us. I knew you were hurting, but sacrificing your soul for someone… That’s not a good sign.’

‘I did what I had to do to save your son,’ Alastair said. ‘Aren’t you happy he’s alive?’

Alastair was confused about why everyone was so upset. He knew he’d made a difficult choice, and maybe he shouldn’t have done it without telling anyone, but it had worked out and without it Thomas would be dead. Didn’t they understand why he’d done it? He found it hard to believe someone else would not have done the same.

‘I am. And I am grateful for what you did for him. But you must understand that it’s not what he wanted. If you hadn’t killed the thief in time, if you’d died and he’d lived, he would have to live with that guilt. I do not think it is right to make these decisions for him in secret. It all worked out in the end, but I’m also concerned about you, and why you did it.’

‘I did it because I love him,’ Alastair said. ‘I guess he doesn’t love me like that, and that’s alright. I just wanted him to be happy.’

He tried to wipe away the tears in his eyes, but he couldn’t hide that he was crying.

‘I imagine that after everything that happened to you, you came to believe that love meant sacrifice. But I don’t think that’s a healthy way to approach relationships. Someone who loves you would not want you to sacrifice yourself for them. If it had been reversed, and Thomas had traded himself for you? Or Cordelia?’

Alastair pictured the scenario, him dying and Cordelia or Thomas making that deal. He wouldn’t want that, Gideon had a point.

‘I would have done everything in my power to stop them,’ Alastair said.

‘So you understand then, why Thomas is upset?’ Gideon asked gently.

‘It’s not the same,’ Alastair said stubbornly.

‘Why not?’

‘Because…’ Because he wasn’t worth that. Because Thomas could be happy without him, and Alastair was just broken. Because he was awful and bitter and did not deserve to be saved.

‘Because you believe you’re worth less than him,’ Gideon finished for him. ‘I know you do not love yourself very much. I think I understand why you did it, and I cannot blame you, but if you want to talk it out with Thomas you need to understand why he’s so upset.’

‘He doesn’t want me,’ Alastair said.

‘You won’t know that unless you talk. I don’t know what Thomas wants, but you should not leave anything unsaid between you two. You owe that to each other, and yourselves.’

Alastair guessed Gideon was right. He did understand why Thomas was upset, but Alastair could not bring himself to regret it. Not when he’d saved Thomas, not when it had all worked out.

Alastair found Thomas at the Herondale manor. He stood up from the couch as soon as he noticed Alastair, about to leave.

‘Do you want to take a walk?’ Alastair asked.

Thomas didn’t say anything.

‘I won’t go far,’ Alastair clarified. ‘I guess I just wanted to be outside.’

‘You can do that without me,’ Thomas said, avoiding his gaze.

‘I also thought we should talk,’ Alastair added.

‘Another time?’ Thomas asked.

‘If you need to, but I think you’ll postpone this indefinitely,’ Alastair said. ‘It’s been difficult for me, the way you avoided me.’

Thomas nodded. ‘You’re right. No time like the present, I guess.’

It was a warm evening, the sun was disappearing behind the trees, and a soft breeze caressed his cheeks. The kind of weather Lucie would use for a romantic scene, he guessed. Alastair hoped it worked out for him as well.

‘I missed you,’ Alastair said softly.

‘Me too. I missed you, I mean. Not myself. That wouldn’t even make sense.’

Thomas was rambling, and Alastair could tell he dreaded this conversation. Alastair did too. It was like a weight pressing on his stomach, Alastair felt he might throw up.

‘I understand why you’re upset.’

Thomas turned to face him, and took his hand. ‘Promise me you’ll never do something like that again.’

Alastair hesitated. ‘If I am to make such a promise, I would at least need you to be more specific.’

Thomas looked away and clenched his fist.‘You’re not taking me seriously.’

‘No, I am. But I don’t understand what you want me to promise. That I will never hurt myself? I do not think I can make such a promise. I wish I could, but I do not know what the future will hold. I might get worse. I do not want to make a promise unless I know I can keep it.’

Thomas hesitated. ‘No, I guess I cannot ask that. As much as I want you to feel better, it’s not something I can demand of you. But if we’re going to make this work, I do need you to promise me one thing. Promise me you will not go behind my back again. Perhaps, if you’d discussed what you were planning, I could have stopped you. Or perhaps we could have worked it into a plan we could all agree with to improve our odds of winning. I cannot deny that you saved me, that I would have died if you hadn’t done what you did. But I do not ever want you to keep your plans to save me hidden from me, nor do I want you to give up your life, or soul, for me.’

‘I guess I can promise that,’ Alastair said. ‘I should not have gone behind everyone’s back, you’re right. But I cannot regret what I’ve done.’

‘I understand and I can live with that,’ Thomas said. ‘Just don’t do it again.’

‘I’m hoping there won’t be a reason to,’ Alastair said. ‘But I promise I won’t keep you in the dark about my plans to save or protect you.’

‘I’m sorry I avoided you,’ Thomas said. ‘I knew we needed to have this conversation, and I didn’t know how. I thought I could just postpone it until I was ready, but it wasn’t going to get any better.’

‘You did a pretty good job,’ Alastair said. ‘Although it helped that your father talked to me.’

‘He’s worried too, isn’t he?’

‘It’s odd, to have people concerned about me,’ Alastair admitted.

‘You’re just not used to it,’ Thomas said. ‘But my parents are experts at being concerned about people, so you might need to adapt.’

‘It’s nice,’ Alastair said.

He used to hate the feeling, but lately not anymore. It felt so good to be allowed to let go, to break down and know there would be someone to help him pick up the pieces. He’d always wanted to be strong, but he’d been so tired of it lately.

‘It can be too much,’ Thomas said. ‘But that’s better than people not caring at all.’

‘Can I kiss you?’ Alastair asked shily.

‘Please.’

Alastair grabbed hold of Thomas’ shoulders, standing on his tip toes to be able to reach his lips. Having a tall boyfriend had its downsides too, but Thomas leaned down a little and Alastair could kiss him.

Their lips met, and Alastair realized he’d been starved for this, even if it had only been a few days since they’d kissed. Thomas took control off the kiss, a bit more experienced by now, and Alastair loved it. He wanted to let Thomas drown him in affection. Thomas put his arms around him, pressing him closer. Their bodies fit together nicely, Alastair could feel his muscles, his chest, strong arms enveloping him and keeping him safe.

‘I forgive you,’ Thomas said. ‘I don’t like what you did, but it’s alright. I know you don’t believe you’re worth it, but you are and I hope one day you’ll see that too. Let’s give this another try.’

#Alastair Carstairs #Thomas Lightwood #Cordelia Carstairs #Lucie Herondale #Thomastair #Lucelia #the last hours #fanfiction #tlh

[that-house]

Here’s the horror short story you all voted on. Welcome back, sci fi capitalist hellscape! For my newer followers, this story takes place in the poverty-stricken Lower Market, where even surviving has a price.

City of Mammon: Sister

My name is Sam. I’m 12 years old. I live in the Lower Market. My parents were named Roger and Beth, but they died a few weeks ago. There wasn’t enough food, so they gave it to me and my sister. There still isn’t really enough food. I take scraps from the dump, but I still go to bed hungry.

My sister’s name is Grace. She’s 6 years old. She used to be really fun. When she laughed it sounded like bells. We would play tag in the streets, and when I let her catch me she would spin around, arms outstretched, looking for all the world like one of the corporate helicopters that sometimes soared overhead. When she had nightmares she would crawl into my bed and wrap both of her arms around me. I was way older than her, so my parents said I had to keep her safe. I’m trying my best, but I think she’s sick.

… 

She’s not eating. She hasn’t eaten or drank anything in a long time. Even when I put food or water to her lips, she doesn’t try to eat it. She was always a picky eater, so I tried stealing her some of her favorite bread from the stall on the corner. I almost got caught getting it, and she still didn’t eat it. I don’t know what to do and I’m scared that she might die. I don’t want her to die. It’s my job to keep her safe, especially without Mom and Dad. She doesn’t seem to be getting any thinner, but she was already really thin from the lack of food, and I’m still really worried about her.

I think she’s getting weaker. She doesn’t move on her own. She just lies in her bed. She can sit up or even get around with my help, but on her own she’s helpless. If something happens to me, she’ll be totally alone. I’m always scared when I’m out foraging. Not for myself, of course. I don’t really care what happens to me now. But if I get taken by the traffickers or the cannibals she’ll just lie in her bed until she finally starves or someone finds her.

That’s not all that’s wrong. She seems really tired lately, too. It might be the lack of water, but she seems really irritable. She doesn’t want to get out of bed. I take her for walks every few days, but I have to literally drag her. She sticks her heels in the dust and refuses to move. Everyone looks at us pityingly when we go out. They whisper about us. I hate it. Once she’s better again we’ll run down the streets and she’ll laugh like a bell and the people will smile at us. She’s going to get better. She has to.

The scariest thing is that she doesn’t really seem to recognize me. Her eyes don’t follow me. She just stares straight ahead. I think she’s really sad about our parents. I’m sad too. Sometimes I just want to lie down and cry until the scavengers come, but I have to be strong. I have to be strong for Grace. My sister needs me.

She’s starting to smell, as well. We can’t afford baths. The bathhouse costs a credit to enter. It hasn’t rained in a long time, so we can’t gather water that way, either. I’m sure I smell awful, too, but I know what dirty people smell like and she smells way worse. I don’t know what she’s sick with, but it’s something awful.

I wish we lived in the Upper Market, or even the Middle Market. Everyone up there gets all the food and water and baths that they need. Medicine is still really expensive, but if my parents had a Middle Market salary we could maybe afford it.

I’d give anything to hear Grace laugh again. Or to see her running and spinning on the dirt road by our house.

…

I was out on a walk with Grace today. She was dragging her heels in the dirt, staring blankly up at the sky, content to let me pull her along by her arm, as usual. She hadn’t eaten breakfast, obviously. The people around us whispered with the look of mourners on their faces.  I was going to the bathhouse to see if there was a sale. Maybe I could afford to get us cleaned up.

Suddenly, her weight against me lessened. I spun around as fast as I could. I was weak from starvation, but I was ready to fight for my sister if I had to. After all, it was my job to keep her safe, and I couldn’t let anything happen to her.

I realized she was lying on the ground. No one had tried to snatch her. I was confused for a while. How had she slipped out of my grasp? I looked down at her. She didn’t seem to have made any attempt to stop herself from falling. She was just lying on her back, staring up at the sky. It seemed like she hadn’t even noticed that she’d fallen.

As I reached down to help her up, I realized I was holding something.

An arm.

There was very little blood. My sister lay on the ground, nothing but skin and bones, one arm held stiffly against her side, the other arm still in my hand, emotionless eyes staring dully at a grey sky.

…

I helped her home, put her back into bed, and offered her some bread, to no avail.

My name is Sam. I’m 12 years old. I live in the Lower Market. My parents were named Roger and Beth, but they died a few weeks ago. There wasn’t enough food, so they gave it to me and my sister. There still isn’t really enough food. I take scraps from the dump, but I still go to bed hungry.

My sister’s name is Grace. She’s 6 years old. She was born with only one arm. I was way older than her, so my parents said I had to keep her safe. I’m trying my best, but I think she’s sick.

#neon-grey-writing #the city of mammon #short story #horror

[devotedwaywardangel1]

The Night Guard

Arthur Pendragon x Male!Reader

Fandom: BBC Merlin

Word count: 1747

Warnings: Near death experience, little bit angsty

A/N: Yeah been working on this one a while, doing every Merlin character x male reader since there are barely any so request/suggestions are welcome.

~~~

Arthur is walking down the hall, Merlin not far behind, ready to head in for the night. He sees you wait for him by the door making him smile. You smile at him and wait patiently for Arthur to be standing in front of you before he began talking. “Good evening sire.” You greet.

“For the last time (Y/n) you can call me Arthur.” Arthur shakes his head.

“Of course Arthur, there is a matter of which I would like to discuss.” 

“Come on in then.” Arthur says as he deflates a bit.

You follow Arthur and Merlin into the room. Cracking your knuckles to relieve some of your nervous tension. Merlin was rushing around sorting Arthur out. “So… what is this matter you wish to discuss, (Y/n).”

“Yes, my sister is wedding her beloved and would like to inquire if I could spend some time with her and the rest of my family during this occasion.” You ask hopefully.

“Of course, give them my congratulations, how long are you thinking?” Arthur conceals his horror of the fact he may not see you for a few days.

“Three weeks.” You smile, excited at the opportunity to see your family for this long.

“Long time for a wedding.” Arthur blurts out.

“Well if you need me to not be…” You knew that for three weeks you were pushing it  mentally kicking yourself.

“No no that’s not the problem, it’ll just be odd since I have seen you everyday for a long time.” Arthur back tracks.

“Four years.” You smile fondly.

“Already?” 

“Yes, quite remarkable isn’t it, anyway I’ll be leaving tomorrow afternoon so I’ll be here tonight and I have found a temporary guard.”

“Okay, goodnight I’ll see you in three weeks.” Arthur nodded.

“Good Night.”

You leave the room to stand guard. While Arthur just stares at the door before Merlin nudges him and smiles knowingly. “Shut up Merlin.”

Merlin laughs putting out the candles as Arthur goes to bed.

True to your word you are gone by the afternoon, Arthur knows because he watches you leave from his window, he can’t deny that you look very appealing in civilian clothing. Enhanced by the fact it was a rare sight, unfortunately for Arthur, you were walking away from the citadel and he already misses you.

~~~

It had been a week since (Y/n) had left and everything seems to have gone into shambles. There had been a rise in assassination attempts, Arthur hasn’t slept or eaten properly and Merlin is so close to passing out in exhaustion its frightening.  Arthur could not walk around the castle with one of the knights escorting him which was frustrating him further. He honestly didn’t know how they could last another two weeks without (Y/n), if anyone had known how much he did around the castle and how important he was to the functioning of the kingdom he would have never been able to leave.

~~~~

You are walking back to Camelot after a horrible feeling washed over you a couple of days after the wedding, you couldn’t get the thought out of your head so here you were walking back a week early. Many horrible thoughts rolled around your head. You’d never forgive yourself if something happened to Arthur, the very idea made you feel sick inside. It would be your fault for leaving for so long despite your better judgement. After years of stopping assassins up to fifteen times a month unnoticed by the higher ups. You walked up a hill in order to glance at Camelot from afar, and to your horror he saw the castle with charcoal smoke raging above it. Then you started to run.

~~~

Well this has been a great two weeks Arthur thought to himself while magically bound on the floor with the knights, Merlin and Guinevere. While they were struggling to escape their bounds the sorcerer sits lazily on the throne with a smug smile on their face. They were droning on about Uther and his genocide of the magical population, Arthur sitting there thinking that its getting harder to convince the council to lift the ban on magic when this happens all the time. (Y/n) would urge for diplomacy at a time like this but Arthur had never been great with words. But he figures it's worth a shot anyway. “What’s your name?”

Well that was definitely a start Arthur thought bitterly. The sorcerer narrows his eyes at him but answers anyway, “Romulus.”

“Okay, Romulus, why do you think it aids your cause by attacking us,” Arthur asks, a little too bluntly for his liking.

This angers Romulus greatly as he continues his rant about all Pendragons being tyrannical rulers.

~~~~

It only takes you half an hour to get to the citadel, but there are enemy soldiers everywhere. Getting into the castle would be the easy part but finding Arthur significantly harder. You cut off your thought process, knowing you had to actually get into the castle first. Raising any alarms could hurt anyone trapped inside. So you sneak round to the servant entrance. 

Once you get into the castle the first you notice is that the people he brought with them are trained fighters and decent mercenaries by the look of it. This is not going to be easy you thought to yourself. Quietly dispatching as many as possible before anybody notices.

You take all of the servant shortcuts to avoid slipping into the great hall unnoticed and you see everyone in chains, you hear the sorcerer rant about freeing the magical people of Albion you roll your eyes. Not because he is wrong, nope you agree wholeheartedly just his methods of course you don’t blame the man though so you decide to interrupt. “Hey man.”

His head snaps to your direction. “Who are you?”

“The weirdo who stands outside the King’s door every night.”

“Oh you're the guard everyone tells me to worry about.”

“Yep.”

“You had the perfect opportunity to kill me?”

“Yeah, but talking to you seems to be a better option.”

“How would you know?”

Shit you didn’t think this through. “Well…”

“He doesn’t, let him leave.” Arthur growls.

You groan internally as a devilish smirk lights up the sorcerer’s face, “oh this is just too good to be true.” He laughs.

You gasp as you were flung into the wall and the sorcerer continued to torment Arthur swirling a sword looking ready to kill him urging you to get up and unsheath your sword to engage with him. Shocking him enough to make him stumble back a little, “Hey never got your name.”

“Why?” He snarls.

“I like to know the name of the person I’m fighting.” You swing at him.

“Romulus.” He blocks.

You both exchange furious blows, but you are the superior swordsman. You slash his arm and disarm him making him hiss and vanish. Smiling you turn to face Arthur seeing his tired smile in return sheathing your sword. “Are you ok-” you breath hitches.

You felt as though you got punched in the back so spin around to see Romulus with a bloodied dagger, you grab his wrist but it's weak so he easily breaks free and plunges the knife into your stomach . He smirks as he pulls it out and you collapse on the ground. The world around you goes fuzzy, screaming muffles, a face appears above you but you can’t make out who it is. The world turns black. 

~~~

Arthur picks up (Y/n)’s body, bridal style, while ordering the other’s to sweep the castle for anyone more intruders and to aid anyone who needs it. “Merlin, Gwaine come with me, we need to get (Y/n) to Gaius.”

They got to Gaius’ chambers with very few hassles and put  (Y/n) on the cot. “Please tell me he’s going to be okay.”

“Sire I’m going to need you to leave the room.” 

“But-”

“Please sire.”

Gwaine pulls him out of the room to leave Gaius and Merlin to do whatever they need to do.

~~~

The first time you open your eyes you are in a dark room and there are angry whispers at the foot of the soft bed you’re resting on. You lose consciousness again.

The second time you wake up you see Arthur sitting next to you asleep. Observing him you notice tears stained cheeks and dark circles around his eyes. He looks worse than he did when you came to save him. You decide against waking him up and close your eyes again drifting off.

The third time you woke up you were alone and felt disgusting, dry throat, gunky eyes, oily hair and sweaty. Thankfully there is a cup of water beside you, so you shakily grab it and take a few sips. It was dawn from what you could tell, you groan as you try to sit up, your back feels like it has been stretched and your stomach stings. Pulling away the shirt you had on you see stitches that don’t look all that appealing, definitely going to leave a scar, you wince as you twist in an attempt to see the one on your back. Then Merlin stumbles in and gawks a moment and you open your mouth to say something but he runs out. You hear shouting and next minute Arthur is in the doorway. He strides over to you but halts suddenly like he doesn’t know what to do. You look up at him and part of yourself say go for it, then he moves eloping you in a gentle hug as if he thinks you’ll break. You couldn’t think of anything to say other than, “I’m okay, Arthur.”

“You nearly weren’t.” He whispers back.

That’s when the gravity of what happened hit you, you nearly died, the idea made your head feel fuzzy and your insides sick. You shake this off to comfort Arthur. “I know but your safe, I’m alive so all's good.”

Arthur breaks away and smiles. “(Y/n) I have a confession to make.”  

You don’t dare hope. “And what would that be.”

“I might quite possibly be a little bit in love with you.” He looks so scared at this moment.

“Good cause I’m head over heels in love with you.” 

Arthur laughs and kisses you gently, smiling into the kiss you lift hand up to caress his cheek. Arthur pulls away and sighs “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

#bbc merlin #bbc merlin fanfiction #arthur pendragon #arthur pendragon x reader #merlin #gwaine #guinevere #knights of the round table #sir gwaine #x reader #x male reader #male reader

[randomly-a-fan]

Malon's First Time At The Hospital Pt. 3

Pt. 1

Pt. 2

At the hospital in Haddonfield, Malon was having her light breakfast before she has her temperature and blood pressure checked. Jason was looking out the window far out from the horizon, thinking about his home; he senses that something is wrong. He wanted to go out there and check, but he has no way to get there, and he didn’t want to leave Malon behind while she’s still recovering.

Malon’s coughs were getting less painful, so the medicine that the doctors gave her are working great. Just then, MJ came in with a ‘Get Well Soon’ balloon. “Hi, sweetie... How are you feeling?” MJ asked in a gentle tone while approaching her. “Hi mom... I’m starting to get less coughs, and my chest is starting to hurt less,” Malon answered. “But I still have to stay in the hospital for another night.” Malon said sadly. “I know you missed being home, but you’ll be going home soon; the doctor told me that you’re making a speedy recovery, and that we might go home tomorrow night if you get your appetite back.” MJ explained. Malon smiled to hear the good news.

*** 

Back at Camp Crystal Lake, Aquarius took her kids to check the Voorhees’ cabin, to see if there are any plants that needed to be watered. But as Aquarius entered in, she was shocked to see the blood on the walls and the couch. “What the Hel-- hel... hel--li--coptors...” Aquarius didn’t want to cuss in front of her kids, even though Archie has heard worse cusses than Hell, but she didn’t want Kandy to know the word since she’s only a baby. “Archie... Take your sister home... There’s something I got to do.” Aquarius ordered. Archie was shocked by his mom’s reaction, however, he was more surprised by the mess and how loud the music was. “Come on, Kandy, lets go home to daddy.” Archie said to his baby sister.

After Archie took Kandy home, Aquarius decided to clean the place up while observing the cause for this disruption. She was going to clean the couch until her cellphone rang. 

“Hello?” Aquarius answered.

It was MJ that was on the phone from the hospital. “Hi Star, I’m just calling to ask you a favor, would you or Pennywise mind checking on Camp Crystal Lake, Jason was having the senses that something is wrong.” MJ explained.

Aquarius didn’t want MJ or Jason to know about the mess in the cabin, since she knew it might infuriate the family, especially Jason. “Of course I will, well heck, I’ll even clean up the place if you liked me to.” Aquarius offered.

While being unaware, Michael approaches the cabin and saw what he thought to be a ‘trespasser’, so he took out his knife and approach to her slowly with his knife raised. Aquarius senses someone’s presence so she had to cut the conversation short. “I love chatting with you, but I must go now, bye.” Aquarius hung up the phone and quickly did the spin attack on her still-on roller-skates; she may have dodged the knife, but the ‘stalker’ did not get knocked out. So she pounced on him. Michael tried to choke Aquarius to death, but she was quick thinking and grabbed a knife that he dropped and stabbed his arm. However, Michael was not affected by the knife stab; which worried her since she’s in a deadly position. 

Aquarius tried to remove his hand, but his grip is too strong. As she was slowly perishing, his grip loosened as he was being grabbed. Pennywise came at a nick of time; the truth is that Jason called Pennywise’s place earlier back at the hospital and answered it. MJ called from Aquarius’s cell, so it was strangely ironic. Pennywise lifted Michael in the air with a mad glare. “No one strangles my wife... except me!” Pennywise scolded. Michael did not show any reaction as usual, but whatever Michael is saying in his mind made Pennywise put him down. “You’re an acquaintance of Jason Voorhees?” Pennywise asked while still holding him by the shoulder. Aquarius finished coughing out blood before she spoke up severely. “Ask him why he trashed the place! There better be a promising explanation for his behavior, or else I’ll eat off his face...” Aquarius threatened. “You’re going to want to answer that question, because she’s a sin-muncher, and I’m sensing that you’re responsible for a full amount of sins.” Pennywise said. Michael was surprised that he can read his mind, so if he can read his mind, he can explain his reasons for this mess.

***

At the hospital, Malon was eating her lunch, a lot more than usual; which is a good sign that she’s hungry because it means that she’s starting to get better. “My goodness, Malon, you ate up all of your food like a vacuum.” MJ joked. “Well I was hungry... I’m starting to feel a little bit better each time.” Malon explained. Just then, nurse Linda came in. “Hello Malon, I just thought I come up to see how you are doing; I see you’ve eaten all of your lunch.” Linda assumes. Malon nodded with a smile. “Since you’re getting better, I thought I take you over to the play area; we have a special guest coming today.” Linda explained. “Can I mom?” Malon asked her mom. “Of course you can, and I’m sure daddy will let you as well.” MJ said while smiling at her husband. Jason nodded as he accepts the idea of Malon playing with the other kids, so she wouldn’t have to be cooped up on her bed.

Back at Camp Crystal Lake, Aquarius frustratedly scrubbed the floors while Michael watches. “Michael, will you please stop staring at me? it’s annoying because I can sense you!” Aquarius said in a grumble. “Don’t be a corpse in the weeds Pretty-Blue, at least what Michael told me about him getting rid of the trespassers that broke-in was pretty noble.” Pennywise said. “You know what, that’s great, maybe we can give him a treat; or even better, let’s keep him; Archie has been asking for a pet this morning, Michael would be perfect, we just have to take him to the vet and have him neutered!” Aquarius said in a sarcastic and sassy tone. Pennywise just chuckles and crawled towards her to comfort her. “Don’t be so dramatic, I know what’s best for everyone; no subconscious mind tells a lie.” Pennywise reassures before he kissed Aquarius passionately. 

Without realizing, they noticed Michael actually wiping the couch, almost as if there’s something within him that is so toxic and disgusting to his character. “Let’s keep cleaning the place up for the Voorhees, then we shall do something together as a family with our kids.” Pennywise suggested. Aquarius nodded and agreed, even though Pennywise is not the kind of being that likes to do chores, but he does get a lot of TLC afterwards.

***

When Malon was being taken to the Play Area, Jason wrote a note to MJ about what he wanted to do. “I’m thinking of going back home to check on the place, is that alright with you?” Jason wrote. MJ frowned, she thought that her calling Aquarius would calm Jason’s nerves, she even heard from Malon that her dad also called the Gray’s place. However, she can’t really tell him what he can or can not do, but she did gave him a reasonable response. “I can’t really stop you, since it’s my turn to spend the night with Malon anyway, but you should ask Malon and see what she thinks.” MJ suggested. Jason nodded and decided to take her advice.

Jason walked over to the play area to see Malon with the question that he have wrote for her. He was watching Malon drawing and coloring, he tried to get her attention until he saw what she was drawing. “What’s that you coloring?” The little sick girl asked. “That’s me and daddy; he was always there for me whenever I needed him...” Then Malon noticed her daddy and waved at him happily. Jason waved back at his daughter with a tearful smile; he looked at the note and then back at Malon, he decided to not worry about his cabin, his family comes first, especially Malon’s, so he tared up the paper and threw it into the recycling bin. Jason was going to go back to her room, until he spotted a Shetland Pony heading towards the play area, he assumes that the pony was the ‘special guest’ that Linda was talking about.

Malon and the rest of the young patients went out to meet the little pony, Malon has never seen a little pony so tiny that Malon teared up over cuteness. She was going to pet it until the man grabbed her by the wrist to stop her. “Don’t touch him, the sign said to not touch.” The man said, he didn’t mean any harm, but Malon is still tearing up, so she decided to go back to her room. Only to realize that she doesn’t remember where she came from or how to get back to her room; the nurse was preoccupied that she wasn’t paying attention to Malon.

Luckily, her dad was close by, so he caught up to her and gently lay a hand on her. Malon turned around and hugged her daddy while tearing up. “I want to go back to my room!” Malon mumbled into his shirt. Jason rubbed her back to comfort her, he saw the whole situation with the man and his Shetland Pony; if he weren’t in a public place, he’d kill him in a instant for making his daughter cry, but he has to hold himself back and not make a scene. Eventually, Jason guided her to her room and put her up to her bed. “You’re back quickly, everything okay?” MJ asked. Malon shook her head and decided to sleep it through from her depression. Jason wrote a note to his wife and explained to her about what happened. “Aww... That’s not fair... Service animals were supposed to be used for little kids to cuddle, like dogs and puppies... Did she cry?” MJ asked. Jason nodded sadly as he almost cried himself. 

MJ got up and walked towards Malon and gave her a lingering kiss by the cheek, which gave Malon a half smile with a dimple; just like when she was a baby. Even though Jason is sad over Malon’s disappointing opportunity, he’s glad he didn’t decide on leaving for home, or else Malon would have gotten herself lost from wandering through the hospital. He’s grateful for listening to his own family instincts and not think too much about his home.

To Be Continued

#IT #IT Chapter 2 #fandom #Fanfiction #Pennywise #pennywise the dancing clown #Aquarius #Aquarius the Singing Clown #Archie #Kandy #Halloween #Michael Myers #Friday the 13th #Jason Voorhees #MJ #Malon

[i-stan-nct-and-satan]

Not Broken Part 12 (Jaehyun Mafia AU)

Not Broken Masterlist

Jaehyun X Reader

Trigger warning: mentions of abuse

I stayed in my room for several hours, just staring at the minimalistic digital clock Taeyong had set onto the vanity. It was 2:58, past the time Taeyong said lunch would be delivered to my room. In any other circumstance, I would have just gone to the kitchen and made something myself, but I really didn’t want to run into anybody from 127, especially not the pink-haired mobster himself. I hadn’t eaten at all that day, nor had I had anything to drink other than the tap from the bathroom. There were no cups to be found so I scooped the water into my mouth with my hands.  

I wondered if they had forgotten about me or if there was a delay. Either way, the hunger was becoming too uncomfortable to ignore.  

I glanced at the door, wondering who on earth could be on the other side. I was almost too afraid to find out. On one hand, it was very possible that they would turn out to be a staff member rather than an actual member of Nct given that Taeyong explained that they had a few staff members on hand that doubled as bodyguards. I couldn’t imagine that Nct 127 would waste any of their members’ time just to stand guard at my door, yet on the other hand, I couldn’t get rid of the sinking feeling that if I chose to find out I’d be confronted with someone like Doyoung whom I’m sure wouldn’t be so pleased with having to escort me around.  

I decided to come up with an excuse to open the door, that way if it turned out to be someone I didn’t feel comfortable with, I could just ask them to clarify a rule for me or something. I supposed I could also tell them that I was hungry, but I didn’t think that Doyoung would want to be sent on an errand either.  

After I made the decision to open the door, I suddenly became excited at the prospect of being able to leave the room I had just spent three hours in unable to do anything but stare at my bruises in the bathroom mirror, take nearly an hour-long shower, and look through the clothes in the closet. There definitely wasn’t anything I felt comfortable wearing in there and although I knew I shouldn’t feel any guilt asking for clothing more suited to my style, I didn’t have the guts the make the request.  

I took a few deep breaths to calm my nerves before I knocked on the door.  

Nothing.  

Was there no one on the other side?

Knock knock.

I instantly became confused by the sudden knocking that came from the other side of the door. I knocked again only for them to knock again.  

Wanting to know what was going on, I opened the door to see the blonde-haired boy I’ve come to know as Mark, fist still raised in the air.  

“What are you doing?” I asked him, too puzzled by his actions to feel any relief that it was him and not Doyoung.  

“Knocking,” He answered, matter of factly.

“Why?” I asked.

“Shouldn’t I be the one asking that? It makes a lot more sense for someone outside of the room to knock on the door than someone inside of the room.”

“What? I mean, you’re not wrong but I just...”

Mark began to laugh softly at my perplexed state. Despite feeling even more confused by his reaction, I did feel less nervous than before.  

“I’m just messing with you,” He revealed with a warm smile.

“What do you need?”

“Oh, um... I was just wondering if I could have something to eat.”

“Sure, no problem, let me just call the cook and have him bring something up,” He agreed, taking out his phone.

“W-wait.”

Mark paused.

“I was hoping I’d be able to leave my room at some point since there isn’t much to do.”

Mark stared at me as he processed my words and I worried that he would deny my request.

“Oh, I get it. Okay, sure,” He agreed.

“Yeah, I forgot that they didn’t really give you anything to do.”

“Yeah...” I confirmed, not wanting to sound like I was complaining.  

“Well, did you want to go now?”

“Yes, if that is okay.”

Instead of responding, Mark just started laughing. I couldn’t understand why because I hadn’t said anything particularly funny, so I just started awkwardly laughing with him.  

“Yeah, no problem. Let’s go.”  

We walked down a long hallway, and down a long flight of stairs that looked like something the Queen of England would step down to treat her guests.  

When we finally got to the kitchen, there were already several people inside, none of which I had ever seen before.  

“Come on, Chenle. You need to eat.”

A man with blonde hair and a faded blue fringe whose out-of-the-blue hairstyle made it look like he had literally ran out of blue hair dye and made Doyoung’s blue highlights look normal in comparison, was sitting at small kitchen table with two boys who looked to be in their mid-teens. In another part of the kitchen was an athletic looking man who seemed too busy cooking to notice that we had come in. He had light sandy brown hair that looked like it had been shadow permed and was wearing a short-sleeved shirt under a salmon colored apron. He was peeling potatoes and I couldn’t help but stare at his developed arm muscles that were more defined than any of the 127 members I had seen thus far, with the exception of Jaehyun, himself. The apron did nothing to take away from his masculine features and anyone who thought it did would have to be extremely antagonistic towards the color salmon.

The older male at the table looked up at us. Apparently, my fascination with the other gentleman must have been obvious since my attention was immediately brought back to him as he cleared his throat.  

“You must be Y/N,” He commented, getting up from the table.  

“Hello,” I greeted.

“Ah, uh, yes. Hello. My name is Jaemin. I’m the nanny,” He wavered in his response.

The man offered his hand and I shook it.

“And these are Chenle and Jisung,” He gestured to the two boys still sitting at the table.

I glanced at them, not fully understanding who they were. One of them, I didn’t know which was which, had blonde hair that had a bit more yellow in it than most people would have preferred. It was strange but he almost looked scared of me. His features made it seem as though he were experiencing great discomfort. He avoided my gaze choosing instead to stare at the full plate of food that sat in front of him.  

The other boy, whose plate was almost empty, had dark brown hair and an extremely small face. His expression reminded me of those mean girls in the movies when they were weirded out by someone less popular than them. He didn’t look mean though, just confused as to why I was there. The two of them didn’t resemble each other in the slightest so I assumed that they were unrelated.

“What happened to your face?” The second boy blurted out.

“Jisung!” Jaemin snapped before turning back to me.  

“I’m so sorry about that,” He apologized.  

“It’s alright, but who are they?” I whispered the last part.  

“Oh, those are Jaehyun’s younger brothers,” Mark answered for him.  

“Brothers?”  

Guess I was wrong about them not being related.

“Yes, and don’t worry. They’ve been caught up on everything, including your lack of involvement in the... issue at hand.”

I hadn’t even thought of the possibility that they had even known about my existence let alone about the suspicion that I was involved in their sister’s death.  

They really know everything that’s going on? At such a young age? No, it made sense. In this type of family, I’m sure that they are fully aware of their brother’s business and probably have been for quite some time. Maybe they’re even being trained to eventually become members.

“Have you put anything on... to... umm... treat that?” Jaemin asked as I continued to stare off into space.

“Oh, umm, no.”

“Hang on a second. I might have some vitamin K cream somewhere. Would you all keep an eye on the boys for a quick second?”

“Ah, I, umm,” I hesitated.

“I’ll handle it, Jaemin.”

I turned around to see the aproned man who had been busy cooking up to this point smile over at us.

“Awesome! Be right back,” Jaemin confirmed before hurrying out of the kitchen.  

The man who had volunteered to watch the boys rinsed his hands and dried them on a spare cloth before making his way over.  

“Hi, what can I do for you?” He asked in a pleasant tone.

“Hey Jeno, this is Y/N. We came to get her something to eat,” Mark took the lead in answering for you.

“Ah, yes. Miss Y/N. I was informed of your new status as a guest here just recently. I apologize for the delay. You can sit down at the table with Jisung and Chenle while I finish preparing your lunch.”

“Oh, so you’re the chef?” I asked, wanting to know more about the strangely attractive man, totally oblivious to my appearance.

“Hm? Oh, kind of. I’m actually-”

“The butler,” Mark interrupted.  

I turned to Mark and gave him an expression I can only describe as “Dude, what the fuck?”

“Well yes, butler, director of the household. It’s all the same. Stand-in-chef while the other staff is away. I pretty much do whatever is required of me in order to keep the house from burning down.”

“Oh wow. That’s impressive, especially with a house as big as this,” I beamed. 

I was surprised since someone of his stature seemed as though they would fit in perfectly as a gang member, but his kind eyes gave away his lack of involvement with the group’s more criminal activities.

“Not really, I have lots of great staff to help me. Anyways, have a seat and I’ll bring a plate over once everything’s prepared.”

Mark and I sat down at the table and it was... awkward.

Jisung and Chenle just stared at me as if I had three eyes... or maybe just two black ones.

“Did someone from 127 really do that to you?” Chenle asked looking noticeably sick.

Someone?  

What I wanted to say was that their brother did this to me, but I couldn’t bring myself to tell two teenaged boys how much of a monster their brother really was. Even if he deserved it, they didn’t.

“Uh, umm...”

“I’m back!”  

Jaemin’s timing couldn’t have been any more perfect.

“Did you miss me?” Jaemin cooed at the two boys, making an effort to pinch Jisung’s cheeks.

“Nana, stop!” He whined.

Jaemin frowned.  

“This is why they said there’s no use in raising kids.”

His attention turned to me.  

“Let’s get you taken care of, shall we?”  

Jaemin asked me to sit on the counter in the kitchen so that we could “talk” without having to worry about the kids and asked Mark to watch them in the dining room. Apparently Jeno and Jaemin were also included in the list of staff who could watch over me.

“So how are things going for you?” He asked.

Jaemin’s face seemed to hold genuine concern so I had no reason to give him a snarky answer, but I wasn’t certain whether I could be honest with the two of them or not. They might not have been members of NCT, but they still worked for them.

“Everything is just so hard,” I broke down.  

“Oh, honey,” Jaemin cooed sympathetically.

Jaemin took me into his arms as I started to quietly weep.

Jeno who had been busy cutting vegetables pushed them aside and joined us, patting my back as Jaemin continued to hug me.  

After a few moments passed, I somehow managed to cease my crying.

Once Jaemin pulled away, Jeno gave me a cloth to wipe my tears. I winced when the fabric came in contact with my bruised eyes causing Jaemin and Jeno to give each other a concerned look.

“Let’s put some of this on,” Jaemin suggested.

“I just feel so angry at how little control I have here. I feel so weak and for some reason, I feel like I have no reason to complain either, like I somehow deserve this,” I ranted as Jaemin applied the vitamin k cream with a q-tip.

“You know you don’t though, right? I mean yeah, this whole this is fucked but you just have to get through it. Do whatever you need to do to survive, even if it means taking advantage of their accommodations.”

“What do you mean?”  

“They told you that you could make requests, didn’t they? If I were you, I would take them for all they’re worth. I’d ask for expensive jewelry, clothes. You know, the works,” Jaemin continued.

“I just feel like if I ask for anything then I’ll be proving that pink-haired jackass right.”

“Hm?” Jaemin quirked.

I sighed.  

“Jaehyun made me an offer and when I didn’t accept it, he told me that he didn’t expect a dancer like me to refuse that much money. Then he told me we could renegotiate later. He thought I was some floozy trying to get her next payday. I don’t even want the money. I refused because what he did can’t be fixed with money.”

“Wow,” The two men uttered in unison.

“What?”

“Y/ N, you’re kind of a badass,” Jeno complimented.

“What? No, that’s the thing. I couldn’t even stand up for myself and tell him that. This whole time, I’ve felt so powerless and weak and I just wish that I could fight back just one time and have an impact.”

We all went silent as Jaemin finished applying the cream to my bruises.

“How do you like the clothes the maids picked out? This dress is nice, right?”  

“Honestly? I hate them. Everything is too fancy. I don’t feel like it’s exactly normal to wear Swarovski crystals when living in your kidnapper’s estate, not that there’s exactly a dress code for that.”

“Okay, no Swarovski crystals. What else?”

“Huh? Oh no, I didn’t mean. I’m fine, really.”

“Y/N.”

Jaemin grabbed my face as gently as he could to avoid causing any further harm to my already bruised face.

“It’s the least I can do given your situation, especially when I can’t do much else for you.”

His face was suddenly filled with noticeable anguish. He was trying so hard to relieve my sorrow, it made me want to relieve some of his.

“Okay then, I guess I do have a request or two.”

“Thatta girl!” He beamed, not a trace of sadness left in his features.  

“What can I do for you?”

“Would it be possible to get my own clothes from my apartment?”

“I’m sure I could find some clothes to better suit your tastes.”

“No, they have to be mine. Is that okay?”

Jaemin spent a few seconds to ponder the request.

“I don’t see why we couldn’t ask, right Jeno?”

Jeno nodded.

“What else?”

“Could I start eating meals with you guys? I don’t want to spend all day trapped in that room and I could really use the companionship.”

Jeno and Jaemin smiled at each other and then back at me.  

“Of course. Mealtimes are about the only time I ever get a break in this house. That’s when Jisung and Chenle get handed over to Momo, the other nanny. The only reason we were all in here earlier is because Chenle hasn’t been eating lately. The poor child. He’s only been like this once before when his sister died. I’m sure having everything come back up has been hard on both him and Jisung.”

I didn’t know whether I should have pried or if it was better to just change the subject, but Jaemin and Jeno seemed to be trustworthy so I decided to pry.  

“Are they really his brothers?”

“Adopted brothers. The previous head of the household adopted all of his children,” Jaemin explained.

“Including-” I started.

“Yes, including him.”

“He couldn’t have children otherwise, so adoption was his only option,” Jeno added.

“Jaehyun and IU were blood related though. Sooman, the former head of NCT, had been searching for quite some time to find a son to eventually take his place as leader. He and his wife went to countless orphanages but apparently he was looking for something in particular which is why they never brought anyone home with them. He would ask each of the young boys a question, but none of their answers satisfied him.”

“What was the question?” I asked, enamored by the almost folksy tale.

“No one knows for sure, but I did hear from one of the older staff, who used to work as Sooman’s personal servant, that he’d ask them why they thought he should adopt them. Simple right?”

I nodded.

“Well supposedly, when he and his wife visited the orphanage the current young master was living at, one of the workers told Sooman that the boy hadn’t spoken a word to anybody other than his sister since they arrived. Instead of skipping the young boy, Sooman asked to speak with him anyway. He probably wasn’t expecting much of a response, yet he went through the motions anyway, telling him that he was a wealthy man who was capable of changing his life and things like that. When he asked the boy why he should adopt him. The young master actually responded.”

“What did he say? How did he convince him to adopt him?”

“That’s the thing. He didn’t. He told him that he shouldn’t adopt him, but that he should adopt his sister instead. Then, after having not spoken for such a long time, he went on to explain how much of a good person his sister was and how she would make a wonderful daughter. Sooman decided to adopt them both, that very day.”

I was speechless. That kind and caring young boy who was willing to give up on everything he could have wanted to help his sister seemed worlds apart from the horrible violent man I had the displeasure of meeting. The only similarities between them was how far they were willing to go for their sister.  

“I guess Sooman wanted a son who valued loyalty,” Jaemin finished.

“What about the other two?”

“Oh, Jisung and Chenle? Their biological fathers both worked for Sooman, but died when they were a lot younger, so he adopted them as a service to them.”

“Umm, Jaemin?”  

We all turned to look at the sudden voice.

Mark was covered in bits and pieces of food and a string of laughter escaped my lungs.  

“Oh my god. Boys!” Jaemin ran out of the kitchen and into the dining room.

“Well, that was eventful. Anyways, food’s ready,” Jeno chuckled.

Jaemin had to go take care of the boys but he promised that he would be there tomorrow for breakfast.  

Mark, Jeno and I sat down at the kitchen table. At first it felt a little awkward having Mark there since he was a member of 127, but I was relieved to see that he didn’t think so.  

He told us how excited he was for another one of 127’s members to return after having been undercover for the last few months. He didn’t give me any specific details about the mission itself, but he did say the member’s name a lot. Apparently since he was so deep undercover, he was rarely able to interact with any of the members without the risk of blowing his cover.  

Yuta came in at one point after hearing our laugher from a nearby room.  

“Y/N, you look as beautiful as ever.”

“I have two black eyes.”

“And I can honestly say that not every girl can pull it off as well as you do.”

We continued talking hours after I had already finished eating. It was weird but nice. I pondered Jaemin’s words about how I should do whatever it takes to survive. I guess it felt like isolating myself wasn’t really my best option and that maybe opening up a little bit would make this whole thing more tolerable.  

I went to bed that night, annoyed by the small red camera lights that flashed every so often. The next morning, I decided to just wear the green dress again since it was the only thing I really felt comfortable in, but instead of leggings, I put jeans on underneath. It looked kind of strange, but I didn’t care.  

Jaemin told me that he was going to ask Jaehyun about my clothes at some point today. Jeno, Jaemin, and I met for breakfast. Mark tagged along since he happened to be guarding my door again. He quickly discovered that we made a promise to start eating meals together, so he also came to lunch despite not being on guard duty.

“Everyone else just eats in their rooms. We never have mealtimes together. I wish we would though,” He explained.

Not just him, but Yuta started to eat with us too. When it was time for us to meet for lunch, Yuta happened to be the one guarding my door, so he when he escorted me down to the kitchen only to see that Jaemin, Jeno and Mark were waiting for me, he demanded he stay to keep an eye on me despite there being three other men there to watch me.

It was strange at first, but it was nice to freely speak with each other without worry. Yuta continued to hit on me only to get scolded by Jaemin. Mark would laugh and Yuta would punch him in the arm, all while Jeno quietly smiled as though it were the most normal thing in the world for two mafia members, two staff members hired by said mafia members, and a former hostage kidnapped, also by said mafia members, to sit around a kitchen table laughing and having a ball.  

I noticed how whenever he smiled, his eyes would form crescent moon slits, that made it hard to believe that he could see anything beyond them.  

Nothing about the situation was normal, but I found myself feeling almost grateful for the scene unraveling in front of me. If this was going to be my new normal for the time being, maybe it wouldn’t be that bad.

<><><><><><><>

“The Itaewon lead was a bust. They found no trace of Wayv at any of their usual hangouts. Should I instruct S. Coups to have his men start canvasing the surrounding areas?” Taeyong updated his boss as they wandered the estate.  

“No need. Have them return to Neozone to await further instructions. Wayv’s aware we’re looking for them, so they know to cover their tracks.”

Jaehyun was visibly frustrated at the lack of breakthroughs in the search for Wayv. His face was noticeably thinner than it was just a few days ago.  

“We’ll just have to wait until they come for the girl.”

“Jae?” Taeyong quirked.

“Yes? What is it?”

“What’s that noise?”

The two men halted their conversation to focus on the sounds of laughter coming from the kitchen.  

“Should we go see what they’re doing? Taking your mind off everything for a bit might make you feel better,” Taeyong suggested.

“It’s probably just Jaemin and Jeno flirting with each other. I can’t for the life of me understand how they still insist on keeping their relationship a secret from me. I’ve never once said anything to give them the impression that I’d hold any disdain for their choices as long as they continued to fulfill their duties and besides, only an idiot would think those two were straight.”

Jaehyun noticed the disappointed look on his friend/colleague’s usually impassive face.

Jaehyun relaxed slightly, becoming conscious of how much stress the two have them had been under, discussing further plans of action while holed up in his office since the break of dawn.

“Perhaps I should go in to check with in Jeno, see if there are any issues with... well, anything there might be issues with,” He suggested, abandoning his strict facade.

Taeyong’s face lit up. His excitement was most evident in his already anime-like eyes which now looked to have doubled in size.

<><><><><>

My eyes continued to linger on the sandy brown-haired man who sat almost directly across from me. I knew that it was crazy to crush on someone who worked for the leader of NCT even if he wasn’t a member of the gang itself, but it had been a crazy past few days and who could blame me for being drawn to such a gentle yet strong and protective looking hottie?

“Y/N?” He asked.

Watching the pair of lips, I had been hungerly gawking at, suddenly mouth the syllables of my name immediately allowed me to snap out of whatever entranced state I had been in for the last several moments and enter into one filled with embarrassment. My eyes quickly retreated down to look at my half empty plate, hoping he hadn’t noticed my staring.

“Yes?”

“You have a piece of rice stuck to your face,” Jeno said matter-of-factly.

My cheeks started to burn from the awkwardness. I moved my hand to brush the food from my face only for Yuta to beat me to it.

I jolted away, withdrawing from the man’s touch. Ready to berate him for the abrupt intrusion, I turned in time to see Yuta bring the speck of rice to his lips with a mischievous grin. I scoffed, unamused by his playful antics, as he merely continued to smirk. I glared at him briefly while taking notice of his purple locks.  

His hair was always a dark purple similar to that of a plum, but under the bright kitchen lights it took on an especially violaceous hue. The intensity of the color and how it was almost hypnotic in a way led me to wonder if the devil might more accurately be depicted wearing violet than he would in his usual scarlet tones.  

Yuta’s sly smile grew into a Chesire grin as he saw my anger morph into mesmerism. My gaze retreated from his and my cheeks were noticeably redder than before.

“Dude, that was gross,” Mark commented, bringing my attention back to the three other men at the table.  

Yuta started laughing and I glanced at Jaemin and Jeno who glanced at each other and then back at me like two schoolgirls ready to hear all the hot gossip after seeing the school’s bad boy flirting with their friend.

Great, now they think something’s going on with Mr. Hits-on-anything-with-a-pulse over here.  

I did everything to stop from groaning, but it must not have been enough to hide my annoyance as for the first time, everyone at the table was laughing except for Mark who had a perplexed look on his face.

“Oh, how nice!”

We all turned in our chairs to find the source of the sudden voice.  

By now, I was easily able to recognize that the voice as belonged to Taeyong so when tufts of scarlet hair entered my vision, I thought nothing of it, but then a second man with oddly colored hair followed soon after. My lungs were empty of air, yet I couldn’t find the courage to breathe.  

He was dressed in the most casual outfit I had seen him in. A black shirt tucked into black jeans held up by a black belt with a silver colored buckle. A clashing gold colored watch with red and green detailing drew attention to his right wrist and consequentially, the veins that traveled up his forearms. His hair lacked any product as far as I could tell, and his bangs swept past his browbone and into his eyes. I noticed that the man’s rose gold locks were slightly translucent, probably from the bleaching process, and must not have done much to impair his ability to see past them.  

Unable to turn away, I silently prayed that he would overlook my presence, but that hope revealed itself to be a pipedream as our eyes immediately made contact with each other.

“What’s going on here?” Jaehyun demanded.

“They’re all eating together! How fun!” Taeyong observed, seemingly unaware of his boss’s hostile tone.

Taeyong wandered over to the table and took a seat in the last empty seat, leaving his boss to remain standing by the door.  

“You know, I always thought that we should start eating meals together, but it didn’t seem like the other members were up for it.”

Jaehyun stomped towards us, irritation written across his face. My instincts were telling me to flee, to run out of there and never look back, but instead my body braced itself, knowing that it didn’t have to courage to move even the slightest bit.  

“Jeno? Don’t you two have work to do?” He questioned the sandy-haired man.

Jeno and Jaemin looked at each other then back at their boss.

“Everything is running ahead of schedule, sir. I already have the ingredients prepared for tonight’s dinner.”  

Jaehyun paused, processing the response before turning to Jaemin.

“And what about you? Where are Chenle and Jisung?”

“Umm... sir? This is my scheduled lunch break. The boys are with Momo,” He responded with perturbed intonation.

Jaehyun brought his right hand to his face and pinched the upper bridge of his nose in frustration, sending a quick glance at Yuta and Mark.

“Don’t look at us, you only told us to be on standby in case we needed to have a meeting,” Yuta reminded in a disinterested tone.  

Before Jaehyun could chastise Yuta for such a cheeky response, Taeyong began to speak.

“Awesome. Since nobody is going to be busy for the time being, should we pull up another chair?” He asked staring up at Jaehyun’s intimidating figure.

I started begging the universe to save me from having to sit at the same table as the man who was possibly the only person I was more afraid of than Lucas.

“Actually, there was something I was hoping I could talk with you about, boss,” Jaemin announced, getting up from his chair.

“Shall we?” He asked.

Jaehyun looked down at the five of us who remained seated at the table before returning his gaze to Jaemin. Without saying anything, he merely made his way out the kitchen door, Jaemin waving goodbye as he followed.  

I took a deep breath and let it out, not intending for it to be as loud as it was. Everyone at the table looked at me with concern.  

“Y/N?” Taeyong quirked.

“I’d like to go back to my room please,” I mumbled, not wanting to hear whatever Taeyong had to say.  

Yuta volunteered to escort me back to my room. Not a word was exchanged between us on the way.

Once I was alone, I settled into my bed and began to softly sob into one of the pillows.

I was so scared of him that I couldn’t even move. I’m so sick and tired of being so weak and defenseless.  

I continued to cry until the tears began to sting my bruised eyes.

I can’t be afraid of him anymore. I need to get stronger. No matter what it takes, I need to survive.

<><><>

“Take a seat,” Jaehyun offered, already seated back at his desk.

“Oh, this won’t take long,” Jaemin replied, choosing to remain standing.

Jaehyun quirked an eyebrow at the staff member before leaning back in his chair.

“Very well. What is it you needed to discuss with me?”

Jaemin got straight to the point, not wasting any time to ease his boss into the issue at hand.

“Y/N doesn’t feel comfortable wearing any of the clothes that were picked out for her.”

The curiosity that had occupied Jaehyun’s features dissipated, replaced with the slightest hint of aggravation.  

“And so, the requests start to flood in,” Jaehyun muttered under his breath.

“I’m sorry, sir. What was that?” Jaemin asked, unsure if he was meant to hear his boss’s words.

“So, let me guess, the clothes aren’t good enough for her despite the fact that each article is probably worth more than what she’d make in a year?” Jaehyun sneered, not making any attempt to hide the disgust in his voice.

Jaemin furrowed his brows at the unexpected response.  

“No, sir. That’s the opposite of what I’m saying.”

Now it was Jaehyun’s turn to furrow his brows.

“Hm?”

“Y/N doesn’t feel comfortable wearing clothes of such a high quality, especially when they were paid for by her...” Jaemin paused, hoping that his boss would understand and that he wouldn’t have to finish the less than favorable account of why exactly Y/N didn’t want to wear the clothes Jaehyun had instructed to be prepared for her.  

Jaehyun glared at Jaemin, daring him to finish his sentence, not showing any hint of mercy towards the staff member.

“-captor,” The man finished, doing his best to maintain a professional demeanor while still presenting a strong front.

Jaehyun’s anger unexpectedly dispersed. He sat up in his chair, tapping the desk as he deliberated Jaemin’s words.  

“I’ll send a maid out on another run for her,” He decided.  

“Is that all?”

“Well, boss, that isn’t-” Jaemin began.

“Actually, why don’t you do it since you probably know more about her... tastes. I’ll have Jeno instruct Momo of your absence and let her know that she’ll have the boys for the time being.”  

Jaehyun’s voice was laced with an emotion Jaemin couldn’t quite make out. Was it bitterness or perhaps just irritation?  

“She doesn’t want new clothes, sir.”

Jaehyun’s dusted pink bangs, fell to the side of his forehead as his head tilted the slightest bit.

“Then why are you here taking up my time, Jaemin?”

“She wants the clothes to be removed from her closet and for someone to retrieve her own clothes from her apartment complex.”

“What?”

“Can that be done?” Jaemin pressed on.

“Hold on a minute. Why does she want her own clothes? We could have any article of clothing she wants prepared for her by the end of the day. Hell, we could create an exact replica of her closet if she wanted. Just have her tell us-”

“Excuse me for speaking so boldly and without tact, sir, but it seems as though Y/N doesn’t want any handouts you have to offer her,” Jaemin interjected.

A strange tension filled the air as Jaemin explained his understanding of the situation. Jaehyun seemed as though he were debating amongst himself as he processed this new and unanticipated information. His eyes stared past Jaemin instead of at him and all the younger man could do was wait for his boss’s reply.

Jaehyun took his office phone off its receiver and lifted it to his ear before pressing the 1 on the keypad. A moment passed before Jaehyun spoke up.

“B.I.? Yes, have S.Coups and his men stop by Y/N’s apartment in Hongdae before they return to NEOzone. I want all her things brought back with them. Someone will come by this evening to pick them up.”

After giving his instructions, Jaehyun hung up the phone and looked up at Jaemin.  

“Why don’t you take the rest of the afternoon off and head to NEOzone headquarters later tonight to grab her things?” He proposed, his face and voice having returned to their usual unreadable states.  

“Yes, sir. Thank you, sir.”

<><><>  

After Jaemin exited through his office door, Jaehyun was left to contemplate Jaemin’s words.  

Had he really misjudged Y/N this much? All this time, he assumed that if she wasn’t working with Wayv, that she’d probably cause problems for them by threatening to expose them unless she got whatever amount of money she needed to keep her mouth shut. Yet here she was, not only choosing to forgo making any requests for newer and better things but actively refusing them as well.  

It was enough to baffle Jaehyun to the point of complete frustration.  

What was it that she wanted? Was it possible she didn’t want anything except to go home? To be safe from Wayv’s grasp?

Jaehyun felt a strong urge to leave his office, the walls of which seemed to be closing in on him. He wondered if perhaps a walk would clear his head and allow him to organize his thoughts, but as he wandered through the halls, the weight of his actions finally hit him.

What have I done?  

Images of Y/N’s first night at the estate crept into the front of his mind, but before he could really weigh the impact of his actions, he remembered seeing his sister, naked and shoved into a box that was left on their doorstep.  

He shook the image from his mind and buried it along with any feelings of guilt that threatened to arise.

He couldn’t let his emotions get the best of him. After all, there was still a chance that Y/N was working with Wayv.

“Hey, boss.”

Too distracted by his thoughts, Jaehyun had unknowingly walked past the security room where Taeil had set up. Having been woken up from his thoughts, Jaehyun entered the room through the open doorway. Monitors showing live footage of Y/N’s room seemed to make up most of the room’s light with the exception of Taeil’s empty laptop screen. Taeil was holding a mug filled with either coffee or tea, Jaehyun didn’t bother to ask which.  

“What’s she doing?” He inquired, taken aback by the images displayed on the monitors.

“Working out, I assume,” Taeil answered not sounding so sure himself.  

“Why is she so... bad at it?”

They both watched in silence, suffering from secondhand embarrassment as footage of my first attempt at doing a push up since middle school gym played across multiple screens.

“Why is she- What is she-” Jaehyun couldn’t even figure out what to ask, giving up halfway through each unfinished inquiry.

“I don’t know but this has been going on for the last half hour. I was getting some work done since I didn’t really wanna watch her cry, but when she started doing jumping jacks all of a sudden, I couldn’t really look away,” Taeil reported, looking visibly uncomfortable.  

Jaehyun tore his eyes from the screen and returned his gaze to Taeil.

“Crying?”  

Taeil returned to his laptop, quickly reopening a dark colored window with past recordings of Y/N’s room. After muting the current footage, Taeil brought up footage timestamped 1:34, roughly ten minutes after Jaehyun left the kitchen with Jaemin.

Several cameras were installed to ensure there were no blind spots in the room, but the camera that produced this specific footage only provided coverage of the bed and some of the floor surrounding it. For the first few seconds, the room seemed to be empty of any life, until the sound of a door opening was projected from a nearby speaker and Y/N entered the screen’s image. She climbed onto the mattress, wrinkling the neatly made bedspread and sat there silently staring off God knows where. Jaehyun and Taeil watched as Y/N grabbed a pillow and held it tightly against her. She began to cry, occasionally reaching up to wipe away the tears that streamed down her bruised cheeks.  

Taeil paused the video roughly sixty seconds after the sobbing had started and turned to his boss.  

“This went on for like ten minutes, but then look at this,” He said, relaying the contents of the video.

Taeil pressed the fast forward key, stopping the video after a few seconds and then pressed the spacebar to resume.

The screen continued to show footage of Y/N crying, before she abruptly stopped altogether. She rubbed her blackened eyes visibly wincing from the contact. After several moments of just staring at nothing, she then preceded to get up from the bed and disappeared out of view. Taeil took a few seconds switching to another camera, this one showing a complete view of Y/N as she began to start doing jumping jack, like Taeil described earlier.  

Taeil paused the video.

“The next twenty minutes are just of her doing various exercises. She’s alright with cardio, but anytime she attempts any strength training, it ends up looking like, well... that,” He gestured towards the monitors that showed that the current Y/N was still struggling to lift herself back into the air after falling back down.

“She is persistent, I’ll give her that,” Jaehyun observed.

“Makes you wonder how we ever thought she was a part of Wayv,” Taeil laughed.

Jaehyun’s gaze shot back to Taeil.

He was right.

If Y/N was working with Wayv, she would have at least been trained in basic hand to hand combat, right? Yet here he was, watching her get visibly more and more frustrated with herself as she failed to do what even people who aren’t particularly athletic should be able to do.  

The possibility that she was faking it crossed his mind only for it to disappear without a trace when he watched Y/N fall onto her already bruised face, yelping in pain.  

“I think she’s trying to get stronger,” Taeil speculated.

Stronger?  

Jaehyun started to contemplate whatever possible motives Y/N could have for wanting to become stronger, when he felt a heaviness in his chest. A heaviness he hoped to ignore for just a little longer but couldn’t.  

“Hmm,” He hummed.

<><><>  

I woke up to the sound of knocking. A groan escaped my mouth as I turned to look at the clock. My eyes had still not adjusted to being open this early in the morning, so I struggled to make out the numbers that shined in blue light.

5:00.  

Five a.m.? Really?

It was still dark in my room as the sun had yet to rise. I rolled over in my bed and pulled the covers over my head, hoping the person knocking would get the hint and fuck off.  

They didn’t.

Eventually, the door opened, and I could hear footsteps approaching. Instead of feeling aggravated since my slumber was being cut short, I felt an unignorable sense of fear.  

Wayv.

I moved the covers just enough to look at the vanity table. There wasn’t much on it, but I could see the outline of a lamp.  

If I move fast enough, I could grab it and use it as a weap-

“Goodmorning Y/N!”

I screamed as the duvet was ripped from my body.

I stared up at the shadowy figure that stood at the foot of the bed.

“Oh, come on, I don’t look that bad in the mornings, do I?”

The lights turned on and suddenly I could see.

Jaemin continued to stare down at me in amusement as I alternated between looking at him, and Jeno who was standing by the light switch near the door.

“Guess who brought gifts!” Jaemin prompted, pulling a bag of clothes off the ground and spilling them onto the bed.  

“What?”  

“I brought you your clothes!” Jaemin replied as though it were the most normal thing in the world to wake someone up at five a.m. just to give them their clothes.

I looked down at the clothes on the bed and noticed a bag filled with clothes I didn’t recognize.  

I opened it and took out a bright orange hoodie, the tag still attached.  

“I told you I didn’t want any new clothes. Jaehyun will think-”

“Jaehyun doesn’t have to know. He gave me the afternoon off to pick up your stuff, but I noticed that you really didn’t have many clothes to begin with, so I thought I’d supplement your closet a bit. Don’t worry. These are gifts from me and Jeno, paid for with our money, not Jaehyun’s.”

“But-”

“No buts. It’s the least we could do and besides, it’s just a few hoodies. No big deal. Jeno and I wear this brand of hoodie all the time. They’re cheap, but comfier than anything you’ll find in any of the members’ closets.”

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” Jaemin said with a smile.  

“But that wasn’t why I was saying but,” I began.

“Hm?” Jaemin hummed curiously.

“I really appreciate you bringing my clothes here, and the hoodies are lovely, but why did you have to wake me up at five a.m. to give them to me?”

Jaemin chuckled and looked to Jeno.  

“I’ll let him explain that and while you two are gone, I’ll get started on getting rid of the clothes in the closet and hanging these up instead.”

“While we’re gone?”  

I looked to Jeno for some help understanding what the other man was trying to say. Instead, Jeno walked over to us and smiled.

“Are you ready for your first day of training?

<><><><><>

After leaving me to get dressed in my workout clothes, a simple t shirt and yoga pants, plus a royal blue hoodie that I found in the bag along with the others, Jeno guided me out into the hall way, taking the time to answer my questions along the way.  

“What do you mean you’re gonna train me?”

“I’m in charge of training all the insider staff so that they can double as bodyguards if need be. Don’t worry, I know what I’m doing.”

“I didn’t mean why you were going to train me, I meant why are you going to train me?”

Jeno hesitated before answering.

“Don’t you want to get stronger so you can feel safer?” He asked.  

“I mean yeah, but will it be okay?”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, I still have a cracked rib for starters and what if Jaehyun finds out?”

“I’ve trained people with worse injuries,” Jeno reassured.

“And you don’t need to worry about Jaehyun. He was the one who suggested it in the first place.”

“What? Why?”

I stopped in my tracks. Jeno stopped shortly after turning around to meet my gaze.

“Y/N, I know you’re probably more than a bit confused right now, but maybe don’t look a gift horse in the mouth? I mean, nothing good can come out of questioning Jaehyun’s motives. For now, just be happy that you’ll have something to focus on for the next few days.

Jeno resumed his steps and so did I. For some reason, Jeno’s words didn’t lend me any comfort.  

<><><><>

“Harder! Hit it harder!” Jeno yelled from behind the punching bag.  

It had been three days since Jeno started training me and somehow each day seemed to get harder and harder. My muscles were sore, and my bones felt like they would turn to dust. This was the routine, wake up at 5:00, warm up for thirty minutes, cardio for twenty, weight training also for twenty, and then the next two hours would be dedicated to basic self-defense and hand-to-hand combat. Despite my body feeling like it was one day away from falling apart completely, it looked better than it had in days. My bruises were almost completely healed, and my face had basically returned to normal. Breathing was still hard due to my slowly healing rib, but Jeno refused to let it hold me back as he constantly ordered me to hit harder, run faster, and lift heavier.  

The kind and gentle Jeno I knew was long gone by the time training began, replaced by a mountain of pent up rage and aggression. It was no wonder he was able to stay so unbothered despite working such a stressful job. As soon as he entered the gym, it was like he was releasing every ounce of anger he had built up over the course of his life, and damn there was a ton of it. If that wasn’t enough to get over my crush on him, learning that he and Jaemin were dating threw the whole thing away.  

I once asked Jaemin how he could stand to work out with Jeno when he was like this. His answer was surprising to say the least.

“I don’t know. I kind of like it. He just looks so sexy when he’s mad. Makes me think of all the dirty things I want him to do to me after we hit the showers.”

The rest of my days continued like normal. At mealtime, I would head to the kitchen and eat with everyone at the dining room table. We couldn’t sit at the kitchen table anymore since Taeyong, Taeil, and even Doyoung started to join us, but only because Yuta forced him to come along. The only members who didn’t join us were Johnny, Winwin and Jaehyun. I found myself wanting to ask what was going on with Winwin and Johnny since I hadn’t crossed paths with them since Jaehyun ordered them to stay glued to each other, but I couldn’t muster up the courage. I found myself missing Winwin. Even though he wasn’t the friendliest guy, there was something about him that felt comforting. For some reason I was beginning to find most of the members comforting to some extent even Doyoung’s threats seemed humorous when paired with Yuta’s sarcastic responses. I knew I should feel on guard with them, but after everything that had happened, it was nice to feel like I had friends.

Friends? Oh god. I better not be developing some weird form of Stockholme Syndrome.  

“Hey! Stay focused!” Jeno commanded as he pushed the punching bag into me, knocking me down on the floor.  

<><><><><>

Jaehyun chuckled softly as Y/N fell to the floor mat. He continued to watch through the two-way mirror as Jeno offered his hand to Y/N.  

On the first day of their training, Jaehyun felt a strange urge to go see how things were going so he decided to take a break from his work to check in on their progress. At first, he only stayed for a few minutes, but today, he found himself losing track of time.

“She’s lovely, isn’t she?” An unexpected voice entered the room.

Jaehyun’s subtle grin abandoned his face, replaced with an irritated scowl.

“I thought I told you I was too busy for any meetings today,” He mouthed, refusing to turn towards the new presence.

“Oh, I can see that, alright,” The voice taunted.

“How did you find me here?” Jaehyun coldly huffed.

“I just rang the bell and that younger member of yours let me in. Mark, was it? After that, I made my way to your office only to find that you weren’t there. Luckily, I ran into one of your staff members, one with a particularly strange hair style I might add, and he suggested I look for you here.”  

After a moment of silence passed and it was clear that Jaehyun wasn’t going to speak, the voice continued.  

“I’m curious as to why you’re allowing Jeno to train her in the first place,” The voice sighed as if it were suggesting something.  

Jaehyun could hear the smirk in the other man’s voice and it pissed him off to no end.  

“Having her know basic defense might serve useful if Wayv decided to break their way in here or if we decided to use her for bait or something,” He explained dismissively.

“Are you sure about that? Or are you perhaps feeling guil-”

Jaehyun finally looked at his unwanted guest.

“What do you want, Suho?”

Suho’s playful smirk morphed into a frown that almost perfectly matched that of the younger man.  

“We have things we need to discuss.”

<><><><><><><>

After training ended, I returned to my room to shower. Jeno decided to finish a little earlier today since he said that breaks were key to gaining progress. I don’t know how finishing thirty minutes early counts as a break in his mind especially with how long our sessions were to begin with, but I was thankful for the extra time I had to relax before heading down to lunch.  

Being able to wear my own clothes was something I was grateful for. It gave me a small amount of power knowing that I didn’t owe anybody anything. It also did a lot to make me feel more comfortable in such an uncomfortable setting. I chose to wear a simple pair of black skinny jeans, a white V-neck T-shirt that hugged at my curves, and my red converse.

I had lunch with everyone being their usual happy selves before returning to my room to rest. Mark was my escort to and from lunch, so once we got back, he and I played several rounds of cards before Yuta barged in.

“Ever heard of knocking?” I playfully teased.

Yuta winked at me.

“You know what they say, you can’t hide anything from your lover.”

Mark and I looked at each other before proceeding to make all sorts of fake vomiting noises.  

Yuta was unamused.

“Anyway, Mark, come on let’s go. Impromptu meeting in the billiards room,” He said suddenly in a rush.

“What about Y/N? Who’s gonna guard her?”  

“Nobody.”

Yuta turned to me.

“Congrats! The boss says you’re officially too old for a babysitter, now let’s go Mark,” Yuta announced before disappearing into the hallway.

Mark promised he’d be back soon to finish the game, but hours past and there was still no sign of them.  

When it was time for dinner, I decided to take advantage of my newfound freedom by making my way to the dining room unescorted. When I arrived, only Jeno and Jaemin were seated at the table. Dinner was mostly quiet. Jaemin explained that the meeting was probably still going on and that’s why we were the only three here. It made sense until Taeyong entered the dining room with a sullen look on his face.  

“Y/N? Are you finished eating?”

I nodded, unsure of what else I could say or ask.

“Jaehyun wants to see you in his office.”

Scared and not knowing what to expect, I asked Taeyong what was going on, but he refused to answer. I got up and followed him. Halfway to his office, we ran into Yuta. He smiled when he saw me and opened his mouth to speak. I was expecting him to say some cheesy pick up line, but what I didn’t expect was for him to just pause before looking down at the floor, moving to the side to let us by. I looked back at him as we walked past, utterly shocked that he had actually decided not to tease me for once. It made me uneasy.

When we got to Jaehyun’s office, Taeyong knocked on the door. Instead of a voice on the other side telling us to enter, the door opened and through it walked out two members of 127 whom I had not seen in a very long time.  

Johnny and Winwin.  

I smiled at them silently. Winwin said nothing and only stared at me. It wasn’t comforting in any sense, but it was better than the pat me on the shoulder Johnny gave me before whispering the words, “I’m sorry.” I watched the two of them disappear down the hallway before a voice I wish I could have forgotten called for us to enter.  

Taeyong led me to Jaehyun’s desk and pulled out the chair for me to sit in. Jaehyun kept his eyes glued to me, only looking away to dismiss Taeyong.  

Once we were alone, Jaehyun silently stared at me as though he were carefully deciding what to say next.

“Y/N.”

I did my best to meet his gaze, careful not to let him notice my uneven breaths which grew shakier the longer he delayed the next few words that would fall past his lips.

“It has been decided that you and I will get married this month.”

What?

#jaehyun #jaehyun au #nct jaehyun #jaehyun smut #jaehyun mafia #jaehyun mob boss #nct #nct 127 #wayv #nct smut #nct 127 smut #wayv smut #nct au #nct mafia au #mafia au #jaehyun mafia au #nct 127 au #nct 127 mafia #nct mafia #nct 127 mafia au #nct 127 jaehyun #wayv au #wayv mafia #wayv mafia au #nct dream #nct dream smut #nct dream mafia #nct dream mafia au #nct dream au #smut

[lonestarbabe]

Holding Out For  a Hero

Chapter 9: Wish I Could Forget

[AO3]

T.K. makes a confession, Carlos deals with his manipulative dad.

---

You were something else I will admit

I remember what you told me

I only wish I could forget

I only wish I could forget

Carlos

They’d been on the bus all day, and as much as he tried to keep track, Carlos couldn’t remember what the next location was. He’d find out when he got there. T.K. had warned him that it would happen like that; the days would stretch together, and so would the locations. Carlos hadn’t believed him. He figured there was no way that he could forget something as simple as where he was going, but when you were almost constantly on the road bouncing from location to location, the places blurred, and the highway went on without end. I never guessed the tour would feel so long or that riding across the country could be so exhausting.

Carlos wasn’t alone in that sentiment. Everyone he’d spoken to had agreed that tour was exhausting for everyone involved once the high of the excitement started to fade into a loose routine but a routine nonetheless. Their days were closely planned, leaving few moments for excursions and sightseeing. Energy shots and coffee kept them going through the long days and irregular hours. Carlos missed home, especially when sleep was elusive. He hadn’t been the best at keeping up with his friends, but tour could be lonely, so he’d call Michelle, who was equally bad at keeping in touch, or some of his buddies, or even his sister. Everyone was friendly, and it wasn’t like he had any issues with his coworkers, but they were busy. And Carlos had shrugged off invites with the crew to hang out with T.K. instead, partially because he knew that when T.K. got lonely, he spiraled. And I want to do my part to prevent that from happening.

But his commitment to spending time with T.K. wasn’t just about T.K. Mostly, Carlos spent so much time with T.K. because T.K. was a good friend. Carlos could spend hours listening to T.K. tell tales of his storied life. Carlos liked to tell stories of his own, too, and one of his favorite things was eliciting that easy, full-chested laugh from T.K., who usually employed a practiced laugh that was polished but shallow. Carlos loved the way T.K.’s face lit up when he brought T.K. colorful doughnuts. The doughnuts from the morning’s bakery stop were half-eaten, the most sprinkled ones already gone. The half-empty box made Carlos smile.

The bus was eerily quiet. No one considered bus rides passive time. As the bus plodded down the highway, everyone kept busy ordinarily, making calls and double-checking that all the arrangements were in order, but Carlos and T.K. were alone. T.K. had barely moved, let alone do any work. Carlos’ favorite bus activity was when T.K. would strum his guitar and write songs, and Carlos would pretend not to listen closely, while T.K. would hide in his bunk. T.K.’s private songwriting was more personal than the stuff he put on his albums, and T.K. trusted Carlos enough to play those intimate pieces near him.

There was no music playing in that music, not even over the expensive speakers that T.K. loved to use when the silence made him antsy. T.K. was mute, bouncing his leg and staring out at the stretch of gray sky. T.K. looked cozy in his pink cotton hoodie, but he kept tugging at it as if it were too tight or itchy.

“You look anxious,” Carlos pointed out, sitting next to T.K. on the couch. His eyebrows scrunched together as he searched T.K.’s face for signs of sickness, sadness, or homesickness, but he couldn’t recognize the meaning of that particular facial expression. His eyes were too sad to be angry, and his jaw was too clenched for him just to be sad. T.K.’s face was a combination of things that Carlos couldn’t quite decode. Someday, I’ll be able to look at his face and immediately know what he’s thinking. I’ll memorize the shapes his face makes. I’ll learn what he’s trying to express, even if he doesn’t know how to express it.

T.K. startled, eyes flitting to Carlos’. “Just thinking,” T.K. avoided Carlos’ eyes and turned his head back to the sky, which was unusual for someone who intensely made eye contact to the point that it made some people uncomfortable. Carlos never looked away. Carlos’s phone buzzed in his pocket, but he ignored it— barely felt it— his focus on intently on T.K.

“Care to share?” Carlos prodded gently. He knew better than to pressure T.K. to talk. If T.K. spoke about his feelings, it was on his own time, but it usually took some prodding before T.K. would open up.

“I don’t know.” T.K. shifted a few inches away from Carlos, pulling his arms closer to his body and looking like a figurine of the larger-than-life presence the world knew.

“What’s wrong?” Carlos tried once more, and if T.K. didn’t give him anything after that, he wouldn’t push anymore.

“You,” T.K. admitted, biting his lip.

“Me?” Carlos’ eyes widened. “Did I do something?” He searched his mind for something he might’ve done that would’ve offended T.K., but things had been easy between them lately. T.K. had been going out less, and he seemed to be doing better, which took some of the stress away that filled Carlos’ voice with tension.

“You’re perfect.” T.K. shook his head. “No, you haven’t done anything bad.” Then, what did I do? “It’s what I did.”

“What did you do? T.K., I’m a little lost here.”

“You’re going to be mad.” Carlos wanted to shake T.K. and tell T.K. to spit it out already, but he chose to be patient.

“I’m not mad at you.”

“Not yet,” T.K. hedged.

Carlos leaned closer to T.K., palms getting sweaty. “Whatever it is, you can tell me. We’re friends.”

T.K scratched his neck. “Yeah, friends.” Why did he say it like that?

“Well, we are, aren’t we?” Carlos didn’t even want to imagine how he would feel if the answer was no.

“I hope so, but there are things about me that you don’t know.” T.K. took a breath. “And you might rethink things when you know.” T.K. was an expert at prolonging conversations to avoid giving answers.

“You don’t know everything about me either, and that’s fine.” Carlos had a whole history that he’d barely mentioned to T.K., and he didn’t plan on bringing it up because what was the point of bringing up the past when it was long gone. But if he asked, I’d tell him. “It’s okay if there are things you don’t want to tell me.” But I want to know everything.

“Carlos, there’s something I need to tell you,” he heard T.K. say, voice too soft. I know, T.K., so tell me.

Carlos’ heart stiffened. “T.K., you’re stalling.” Carlos nervously chuckled when T.K. didn’t respond right away. “The anticipation will probably be worse than the confession,” Carlos assured, and he was trying to convince himself as much as he was T.K.

T.K.

T.K.’s heart pounded in his chest, and he was more nervous telling Carlos the truth than he had ever been before a show. It was easy to perform in front of thousands of people he didn’t know. It was harder to come clean to someone he didn’t want to disappoint. The tone of Carlos’ voice made it even harder. He sounded so concerned, even though T.K. had never given him a reason to care that deeply.

“I messed up,” T.K. admitted, and the words reminded him of all the times he’d had to say that. He remembered times he had drank too much or taken too many pills and called Marjan thinking that he was dying. Every time he called, those events were impressed into her voice as she asked, “Are you okay?” right away instead of saying hello. Or when he’d walked two miles to Judd’s house, disoriented and shivering because he’d dramatically jumped into a pool after a fight with Alex. He’d been too mad to wait for a ride and too high to drive himself. Judd had made a threat against Alex before ushering T.K. inside and warming him up. He constantly let people down, and it wasn’t like Carlos didn’t know he was an addict, but it wasn’t something he liked to bring up, and he certainly wasn’t going to use the words for what he was.

“Are you okay?” Not, “What did you do this time?” or “Here we go again.” Carlos’ brown eyes were soft and caring. The words were those of a friend, not just someone paid to make sure T.K. didn’t fuck up any more than expected. He looked everyone with those cow eyes, but T.K. liked to think there was extra softness when Carlos looked at him. Maybe it was because T.K. was pathetic more than because Carlos actually liked him as a person.

“Don’t be so nice,” T.K. pleaded. He couldn’t stand Carlos being so friendly to him when he deserved misery that Carlos would never give him.

Carlos’ face fell. “What’s wrong?”

“I’m not okay as I’ve been making out,” which wasn’t much of a mystery for the people around T.K.

“Yeah, I noticed,” Carlos said dryly. “But recovery takes time. It’s okay to struggle sometimes.”

T.K. wanted to cry at the hope in Carlos’ eyes. He really thinks I’m getting better. He’s convinced that I want to change, but I don’t want to participate in my change. I want to sleep through getting better and wake up feeling sane. “You know how I talked a lot about my therapist?” He’d gone out of his way more times than he’d admit to mentioning his therapist so that Carlos would think it was for real. I can’t be trusted.

Carlos nodded. “Yeah, she seems nice.”

“I was just saying all that stuff to make you feel better. It’s not true.” There, he’d said it. He waited for the screaming that would follow, the “Why are you ruining your life?” in that same voice his mom always used when she realized having a kid was more than an eighteen-year commitment.

Confusion spread on Carlos’ face. “She isn’t nice?”

“No, she is nice. Well, I don’t know. I ditched my appointments.” He was quick to add. “I’m seeing another one now, but that’s a new thing..”

“Why did you make up all those stories? You could have told me the truth,” Carlos sounded devastated.

“You can yell at me,” T.K. told him. Yelling would have made T.K. feel better. He would have deserved it, a suitable penance for the sins he had committed, but Carlos wasn’t going to give him absolution in the way he wanted it.

“I’m not going to do that.”

“You should. I won’t listen if you don’t make me feel like the scum of the earth.” I might not even listen then, but I might feel better.

“Don’t be stupid,” Carlos snapped. He immediately looked apologetic “Sorry.” T.K. wanted him to go back to snappish comments. He didn’t want the normal, constrained Carlos who could keep his temper in check. He wanted a verbal lashing to get the anger out of the way and start working towards forgiveness. “Yelling won’t change the situation,” Carlos explained. “I’m not going to yell at you.”

“I’d feel better if you yelled at me than whatever approach you’re taking now.”

“I’d feel worse if I yelled, so just drop it.”

“I’m telling you that you can. It wouldn’t be immoral or anything if I’m asking you to do it.”

“No,” Carlos said, sounding disgusted at the idea. “I don’t want to be a part of your self-destructive spiral!”

“I’m not on a self-destructive spiral.” I’m not, T.K. tried to convince himself, but there was something about destroying himself that felt so right. The feeling of getting wasted wasn’t just about the high. He liked the fall too, the deterioration of self. Because destruction eases the bitterness, but I don’t want to hurt anyone other than me. The only problem was that his self-destruction didn’t just impact him. The people in his life, the ones he hadn’t pushed away or kept at a distance, hurt as he shoved himself closer to oblivion. Sometimes, he wanted to feel alive, while other times, he wanted to feel dead. The jury’s out on which I want to be. Who didn’t fantasize about the demise of the person they hated the most? It’s nice to let go, shirk responsibility, and leave my future up to fate.

“You might recognize it if you went to see a therapist,” Carlos said as a plea more than a scolding. The hurt T.K. caused had already spread to Carlos, and the thought made him hate himself more.

“I’m seeing one now.” T.K. quipped, We haven’t gotten to a self-destructive spiral yet.” It had only been one virtual session, but he’d scheduled another.

“I’m glad to hear that, T.K., but you still lied to me.”

“You seemed so happy when I told you I’d go to therapy. I didn’t want to ruin that.” The illusion of a functional T.K. Strand has always been the side of him that T.K. wanted Carlos to see because the real T.K. Strand is embarrassing, messy, and pathetic.

“I’d rather you be honest with me. You don’t need to spare my feelings. It’s hard for me to protect you when I don’t even know what’s going on with you.” T.K. didn’t even know what was going on with himself. And maybe that was why everyone was so insistent that he go to a professional. Professionals were supposed to help you sort all that out. But what if I’m beyond help?

Carlos

Carlos wanted to yell; he wouldn’t deny that anger was brimming in his chest, making him crazy with fear and anxiety. That’s all the anger was—the fear and anxiety that T.K. wasn’t okay— that I can’t protect him. Carlos had caught T.K. falling back into old habits occasionally— drugs, drinking, sex with dangerous-looking guys— but he’d thought T.K. had been doing better. They’d been spending a lot of time together, and T.K. had seemed, for the most part, okay. Carlos painfully wondered what other lies T.K. had told. Had the past few weeks been worse than he knew?

“I’m sorry, Carlos,” T.K. said. “I shouldn’t have lied to you.” No shit, Carlos thought. I’m scared, and I don’t know what to do about it. I can’t watch him fall apart and do nothing. He’s not doing well, but there’s nothing I can do to make him alright again. He has to do that himself.

Carlos took a breath, resisting the urge to snap again, but he was embarrassed at his earlier outburst. He hated that he lost control like that. “I shouldn’t have gotten so upset before. It’s your business how you handle your mental health,” Carlos said, fabricating the cool composure he needed for his own sanity. His voice was a cold front plowing through the tour bus. He wasn’t going to blow up and make a scene, but he wanted to. He wanted to respond with red hot fire. He wanted to ask T.K. why he had been so foolish and to tell him to get his shit together, but those words were his fear, and such words would only make T.K. defensive. “You don’t have to tell me anything.”

“I know, but you’re my friend.” Is this how friends treat each other? Carlos had never been the best at having balanced friendships, so he wasn’t sure.

“Why didn’t you go to see the therapist?” Why didn’t he at least give it a real try?

“I thought I didn’t need it. I don’t know. I guess I didn’t want to need it. Or I didn’t want to commit.” T.K. sighed. “I have a lot of shit I need to confront, and I feel like I’m trying to find a few prized possessions in a crumbing house that I’ve filled with trash. And to get anywhere, I’ve got to clear the trash away piece by piece.”

“But you’re ready to try?” He wondered if T.K. had decided to go on his own or if Judd, Marjan, or one of his other friends had pushed him into it. “You chose to get help?”

“I did, but I’m not making any promises.”

Defeat tugged in Carlos’ chest. “You’re already leaving room to back out the minute things get too hard.” T.K. was already laying the groundwork for future excuses of why therapy didn’t work out, which made Carlos curious about how committed T.K. was to get better.

“It’s not like that. But I know myself. I can’t change. I’ll always ruin everything. I screwed up because that’s what I do, and the sooner you get used to that, the better because if you have expectations of me, you’re only going to be disappointed.”

“Don’t say shit like that,” Carlos said, excess irritation creeping into his voice. There went his resolve to act detached. No matter how hard he tried to keep a level head, he was a passionate person. He cared about things, and apathy didn’t suit him. His passion got him in trouble. It got him ousted from the police force when he’d cared more about helping Michelle find her sister than his job, but it was part of him. He fell too fast, and he put too much of himself into anything he did. No matter how much passion carried him away, Carlos wasn’t going to yell. His voice would be impassioned, but he wouldn’t let his rage fully control him. I don’t want to be like my father.

“Like what? All of it is true. I’m always making a mess of my life.”

“Don’t act like you’re bound to screw up and try to push me away because you’re scared of letting anyone get too close. You don’t have to be a self-fulfilling prophecy. You get to make choices, and you can choose to put the work in to get better.”

“I’m trying to warn you.”

“I’m not expecting you to be perfect. I know you might have ups and downs, so don’t find a way out of this before you’ve even started.” I just want you to try. I can deal with anything as long as you try.

“You’re not listening,” T.K. sounded frustrated. “I’m trying to protect. I like you, and you don’t deserve this shitstorm.”

“Bullshit. You’re scared. This isn’t about keeping me safe. I’m a grown man, T.K., and I’ve had people disappoint me before. Many hurt me more than you ever could. Don’t turn this on me because I’m right here standing by your side. If you don’t want to be my friend, walk away, but don’t keep baiting me into doing.”

“That’s not what I want.” Then, why do you keep doing it?

“What do you want?”

“I want to be a person you can like, but the truth is I’m not even a person I can like.” Carlos’ stomach knotted. He wanted to pull T.K. into a hug and confess how much T.K. meant to him, but he resisted the selfish urge. He didn’t want to send the wrong signals (but he also knew if T.K. asked him for a hug, he wouldn’t be able to say no).

Before he could dispute T.K.’s words, Carlos’ phone started buzzing again, the noise sending fresh anger through him. His annoyance only increased when he saw that it was the same unknown number that had been calling him for a week. “Damn it, leave me alone,” he spat to the unanswered phone and tossed it to the couch. It bounced, and Carlos held his breath, but he was relieved when it didn’t fall to the floor.

T.K.

Well, that was weird. Seeing Carlos’ outburst had in some respects been a relief to T.K., but it also sent a shiver down T.K.’s spine because when Carlos gave such a reaction, you knew the situation had to be dreadful. “We’re a pair of perfectly okay people,” T.K. deadpanned.

“They’ve been calling me all day,” Carlos said apologetically. “I’m just frustrated.” He was back to being the constrained Carlos who acted as if problems rolled right off of him. “I’m not mad at you.” He’s always so quick to reassure me.

“I know, man. Telemarketers suck.” T.K. laughed. “They’re more persistent than my stans.”

The comment broke Carlos’ stoic expression, and a slight grin snuck onto his face. “I know that’s not true.”

“That one girl snuck into a trash can.” She was sweet, a little crazy, but hell, so am I!

“I think it was empty.”

“Still, a trashcan,” Carlos razzed. “Those kinds of things are a nightmare for security professionals.”

“She got her autograph, at least.”

“And I got gray hairs and an ulcer. When she popped out, I nearly lost it on her. She’s lucky you stepped in. I would have escorted her swiftly away without ever seeing you, and then I would have put her on the blacklist.”

“You’re overprotective. She wasn’t going to hurt me.” T.K. knew his fans didn’t want to hurt him, so he didn’t worry too much about his safety. Surely, there were people he didn’t like who he should worry about, but he had better things to do than fret over what other people might do. Carlos fretted enough for both of them.

“I’m as protective as I should be.” And I find “protective as I should be” very endearing.

“You know, Carlos. It’s okay to show how you feel sometimes. You don’t always have to act like things don’t bother you. It’s okay to be un-levelheaded. Ignoring emotions doesn’t make them go away. I should know.”

“It’s my job to be levelheaded.”

“You’re very good at it, but that’s not your job, Carlos. It’s your job to protect my body. You focus on saving that.” And I’d keep you around even if you didn’t do that. “As long as you don’t have to put your own in danger.”

“I would without thinking twice,” and T.K. felt his chest tighten at the thought. It’s not right to put him in danger for my safety. Crowd control is one thing, but any actual danger is off the table.

“Stay safe. I can’t lose you.”

“It’s unlikely it will come to that,” and the words that are implied but go unsaid are, “But if it comes to that, I know what I’ll choose.” The thought made T.K. sick.

“I can save myself,” T.K. asserted.

“Start by saving your mind.”

“We’ll see about that,” T.K. said before leaving to find his guitar. He needed some music therapy after that chat. I hope my stupid songs won’t drive Carlos crazy.

Carlos

It was late when Carlos’ phone rang again, the same unknown number on the screen. T.K. had gone to bed; he must’ve been tired to go so early. The number was an Austin area code, so on the off chance that it was someone he knew, he answered.

“What do you want?” expecting to hear a scam caller.

“Hey, Carlito,” a familiar voice crooned, sounding smooth and smug. Carlos nearly hung up. “Nice to talk to you too.”

“Dad? How did you get this number?” Son of a bitch has probably gotten himself arrested again and needs bail, or he’s gambled away his grocery money. Maybe he has a friend whose been accused of some terrible deed he didn’t do. Maybe a con went wrong, and he’s trying not to get beat up.

“Your sister.” Damn it, Carlos thought. This is the last thing I need.

“I told her that I didn’t want to talk to you.”

“Don’t be like that. I’m your old man.”

“Why did you call?” Carlos persisted. The sooner he knew what his dad wanted, the sooner he could tell him no and hang up. I’m too curious to hang up just yet, and it’s been so long since I’ve heard his voice. It sounds just like it did half a decade ago.

“How’s Taylor?” He hasn’t gotten better at small talk, has he?

“Didn’t you hear we broke up?” Carlos said acerbically.

“How’d that happen?” Carlos could practically hear his dad smiling at the news, probably happy that Carlos’ life had taken a turn towards the awful. Still, while the breakup had been complicated and heartbreaking, Carlos was more satisfied without Taylor in his life. Taylor leaving him had been a relief, even if there were some feelings of sadness and loss.

“Long story short, I got fired, he dumped me, and he blew up the police chief’s car after a bender. So, things didn’t work out, which you would know if you didn’t think the whole world revolved around you.” Carlos waited for a beat. “Now you know the whole sordid saga. What about you? Have you been arrested lately?”

“You’re awfully bitter for being so young.” No shit. You made my childhood a shitshow, and I always had to be there to help you out of your messes while you wouldn’t lift a finger to help me out of mine.

“Cut the, ‘How are you, son?’ talk. Why’d you call?”

“You always expect the worst in me, but I’m not the bad guy.”

Carlos wasn’t afraid of his father anymore, not more than the shadow of fear that sometimes crept up on him with memory. There was part of him that still wanted to cower and try to please his dad so he could get his father’s love, but he had to stay strong and remember that Gabriel Reyes was never going to give him what he wanted. He wasn't going to go back down that spiral. “Who is the villain, Dad. You’re the one who belittled me for years and manipulated me into doing what you wanted.” He kept his voice hushed to avoid disturbing T.K., but he knew that his dad could hear the venom in his voice.

“You haven’t heard what I wanted, but you’re dredging up all the ways I ruined your life.” His dad used his conman voice, the one he always used when he was desperately striving for Carlos’ loyalty. “You forget all the things that I did for you, like making sure food was on the table, and a roof was over your head.” The classic guilt trip had once made Carlos feel guilt and shame, but he knew what manipulation looked like, and he’d worked through all that in his therapy sessions.

“You know what? I’m not listening to this. You’re not going to mess with my head and convince me that I’m somehow in the wrong. Goodbye, Dad. Don’t call again,” Carlos said before hanging up the phone. He didn’t need to listen to his father’s manipulative response to know what he would’ve said. He’d heard it a million times.

Carlos laid back on the couch, staring at the bus ceiling, defeated. He wiped his eyes before the tears could fall, and he remembered how his dad always used to say he was too sensitive to make it in the real world and that he needed to toughen up. Maybe he was sensitive, but at least he wasn’t an insensitive asshole who no one genuinely loved.

He put a hand over his head and tried to tune out the overwhelming feelings. Why does he keep making me feel this way? There’s a reason I kept him out of my life, and it needs to stay that way. I need to talk to Lola and talk to her about giving him my number. That shouldn’t have happened. If he keeps bothering me, I might have to change my number. Before he could contemplate further, a weight settled at the end of the couch by Carlos’ feet. “Are you okay?” T.K. asked.

“Sorry I woke you,” Carlos said, not lifting his head to look at T.K. I’m such a loser.

“I can’t sleep, anyway.”

“How much did you hear?” No matter how quiet Carlos had tried to be, they were still on a bus, and the sound carried through the curtains splitting the sections.

Carlos lifted his head enough to see T.K. shrug. “Not much. I had my noise-canceling headphones on, but you sounded upset, so I thought you might want company.” I love this man, the thought flashed through Carlos’ mind before he could be consciously aware of it.

“They aren’t very good at noise-canceling, are they?” Carlos tried to joke, but his voice was flat, and T.K.’s eyes darkened. I can’t even pretend that I’m halfway okay.

“I guess not,” T.K. said evenly. “Do you want to talk about it?”

The conversation felt oddly reminiscent of the one he’d had earlier with T.K. “My dad called.”

“You don’t get along, right?” T.K.’s words were cautious.

“That’s an understatement. We don’t talk. I wouldn’t have answered if I knew it was him.”Carlos knew dad-talk was hard for T.K., so he proceeded carefully. “Not all dads are heroes. Mine is the opposite of a hero.”

“What is yours?”

“A nasty bastard, a cheat, and a con artist.” And that’s to put it nicely. “He’s a slimy coward who will use anyone he meets for his own selfish purposes.”

“I hate him already.” T.K.’s face grew dark. “Did he hurt you?” T.K. rolled his lip inward. “You don’t have to answer.”

“It’s okay. He never hit me or anything.” But he messed with my head, and he made me think that I could never be good enough. He made my relationship with my sister tense because she can’t understand why I can’t talk to him. She’s still falling for his dastardly tricks. Those tricks are probably how he got my number.

“I didn’t ask if he hit you.”

“He hurts everyone who gets close, so I don’t take it personally.”

“Hurt is always personal,” T.K. said, the pain on Carlos’ face all he needed to know. “I’m sorry.”

“My dad said never apologize for bastards. It’s the only thing he got right.”

“What did he want?”

“Nothing good. I hung up before he could say too much.”

“That’s probably for the best.”

“I think so.” Carlos shrugged. “I don’t think knowing what he wanted would have made me feel better.”

“You mentioned once that you missed him sometimes. Are you missing him now?”

“You remember that?” Carlos looked surprised. “No, I’m not missing him. I’m missing a version of him that only ever existed in my wishes.”

“I get it. The things I miss most about my dad are the things we’ll never get to have—imagined wedding days and playing with my kids. Things like that.”

“Yeah, I used to want him to change so badly. I wanted a normal dad. I thought that if I could be everything he wanted in a son, that somehow that would be enough. But it never was. He only cared about how much  I could do for him. He still only calls me when he needs a favor.”

“Did he say what he needed?”

“I don’t know. We didn’t get that far. Probably money. Or he wants me to call in a favor.”

“That sucks.”

“I’m used to it. It’s been years since we’ve talked, so I don’t have to deal with him normally.”

“He’s probably dying,” T.K. said with a sympathetic voice. Carlos hadn’t thought of that. Perhaps, he was dying. He probably wants me to give him an organ. But what if he really was dying? Would Carlos have wanted to talk to him then?

The thought sent a traitorous blast of sadness through Carlos. “I don’t think so. He would have started with that and would have gone straight into the guilt trip.”

“Why else would he call after so long? I’m not saying to make amends with that asshole or anything, but it’s something to consider.”

“I don’t care if he’s dying.”

“Maybe you don’t want to care,” T.K. pointed out. “But you wouldn’t have that look on your face if you really didn’t.”

Carlos had been caught, and he didn’t have the energy to keep denying the truth. “Good bullshit meter.” Carlos yawned. The call left him confused and depleted.

T.K.

T.K.’s bullshit meter was finicky at best, but Carlos was easy to read. “Not really. I just know you, Carlos. You’ve got the world’s biggest heart.” I should know. He’s found a way to like me.

“I don’t know about that.”

T.K. imagined kissing Carlos’ chest to impress the answer right where it mattered, but he settled for mere words because anything more could only live in frivolous daydreams.“I do.” Carlos looked so forlorn that T.K. couldn’t resist something more physical. Kisses were out, but friends could comfort each other without it being weird. “Let me help.”

“Help?” T.K. nodded and pulled his body up the couch so that he could squeeze himself closer to Carlos. “What are you doing?” Carlos asked with a bemused expression, but he scooted his body over to make more room for T.K. to fit in the sliver of space next to Carlos.

“Reminding that you aren’t alone.” An insecure pang struck T.K.  Maybe he was going about this wrong. “This isn’t weird, is it?”

Carlos inhaled. He thought for a few beats and then shook his head. “It’s nice.”

“Sometimes, you just need to be close to someone, you know?” T.K. reassured. “It doesn’t have to be anything more than a friend giving another friend comfort.”

“You’re practically on top of me,” Carlos laughed.

“I can move,” T.K. said, voice sinking. Am I making a fool of himself? Can he tell that I think about him in ways I shouldn’t? Does he see that I more than like him? T.K. felt like a little boy with a schoolyard crush. It would never amount to anything, but the mere thought delighted him. Maybe I just like that he’s good to me. Is someone nice to me all it takes for me to fall in love? Am I that pathetic? But he knew it was more than that. Something about Carlos made him feel more secure than he ever had, and it wasn’t related to Carlos being his bodyguard.

As he shifted to get up, Carlos grabbed his arm and turned onto his side, pulling T.K.’s back against his chest. T.K. memorized the exuberant feeling of being so close to Carlos because he didn’t know when it would end. “Don’t. It’s been a while since I’ve had anyone to hold.”

“You can’t tell me that the whole crew isn’t all over you.” T.K. said with a grin. “That cute smile and those cow eyes.”

“Cow eyes?” Carlos asked, indignant, and T.K.’s chest bloomed with warmth.

“They’re adorable.” T.K. was weak to those eyes, as anyone would rightfully be.

Carlos rolled his eyes. “Don’t ruin the moment, my little teddy bear,” Carlos teased.

“Carlos!” T.K. blushed.

“Now you know how it feels.”

“I was complimenting you.” Carlos made T.K. feel safe, and T.K. wanted to make Carlos feel safe too.

A moment passed, a snug, easy moment. “Thank you, T.K.,” Carlos said so sincerely that T.K. thought he might melt. He turned over so that he was facing Carlos; their bodies were pressed close, and together they were warm and strong. He held eye contact, testing if he could make Carlos look away with his intensity, but Carlos didn’t look away.

“Thanks for what? Comparing you to a cow?”

Carlos laughed, shaking his head. “For being here.”

“We’re on a bus. There aren’t many places I can go. Besides, you’re literally here for me all the time.”

“It’s my job,” Carlos brushed the comment off, as he often did when T.K. became too praising of Carlos’ efforts.

“You made a list of the best bakeries in the country and make the bus driver when we pass one so you can get me doughnuts.”

“He doesn’t mind. I feed him doughnuts for his troubles.” Carlos shrugged. “I like doughnuts too.” Carlos yawned again.

“But you get them for me.”

“Friends give friends doughnuts.”

“Yeah,” Carlos said drowsily. T.K. said nothing until he felt Carlos’ breaths evening.

“I love doughnuts,” T.K. whispered to check if Carlos was sleeping. “I love you,” T.K. said, his heart fluttering with the admission. He laughed to himself. Even as Carlos let out soft snores, chest rising and falling evenly with the rhythm of sleep, the words were hard to say, but he meant each one of them.

#holding out for a hero #911 lone star #911 lone star fic #my fics #elise writes #wip

[obeymeshallwedate-latinplayer]

Latin MC.

My MC.

I know; “if I wanted to be reading about a MC I would rather read mine.”  Well I want to talk about her, because I want you all to meet her!

It's a tragedy that I can't draw her, because I suck at drawing!

Her name is Yukari, all my OCs will be named Yukari If you find my profile in Obey Me! We can be friends!!! Anyways. 

Her full name is Verónica Yukari Perez Aguilar, she was born the 22 of June, in Mexico (She´s from the center of the Republic) As a good Mexican and Latin American she has a BIG family, the 25% of her blood is indigenous. (Her grandfather is 100% indigenous) and she will always brag about it. 

Characteristics. 

Small really small. Her height is 1.45 (4.76 feet... enserio ¿Por qué no se conformaron con los centímetros?)  brown wavy hair, even thought she bleached and coloured it in red. She always use dresses and shirts with a whole in her back, she has a lot of tatoos and she olny has one in her spine, the pact with Beel. Of course when she made a pact with every demon her back became black because of the ink and pacts, she use a lot of black, dark lipstick and tons of eyeliner, but just for speciall events, Yukari is way to lazy to make her make up every single day.

Her first interaction with the devils was not even natural, they imagine the new exchange student was pure, but nope. Her whole family is good with magic and more than that, when she was young accidentaly call upon Belzebuub, they made a pact in exchange of food and horchata water, after that they kinda became good friends. She was (10 years old and she was bored). 

The “Kidnap” by the other hand... Her whole family went straight to the Devildom, they knew, if her daughter was missing she was in hell, and yes, there she was half naked, from the waist up, her tattoo artist way to afraid of saying something, her mama was about to murder Diavolo (He loved it because he already knew Yukari´s mother) cousins and her older brother protected her with an encantation that she broke when things became espesas. And she used the pact with Beel to show everyone how she was gonna be fine. After that she bought lunch for Beel and her family started to shout at her. “Pendeja, los demonios no son juguetes.” “DEJA EN PAZ A ESE DEMONIO YUKARI VERÓNICA PEREZ AGUILAR O YO TE PUTEO AQUÍ Y AHORA” 

Yukari: AMAAA DEJA LA CHANCLA NO, NOOOOOOOO EN LA ESPALDA NOOOOOOOOOOOOO AMAAAA MIS TATUAJESSS. 

Yukari´s mom: ¿¿Quien te manda pendeja?? 

After the putazos. The demons understood, they better don´t mess up with her family. 

Her relationship with the brothers. 

Lucifer.

He was surprised that Beel didn´t told him about his pact with a human, and he knew everything. After the show that Yukari put through, he decided that Mammon needed to stick around with her. 

He even went to her house for photos, books and action figures for her room. After that he saw Yukari in the big garden, planting cempasúchil, she even put in her door Papel picado she made an encantation with them so nobody could cross her door. He tried once when she wasn´t answering her D.D.D, he couldn´t.   He was amazed about her magic and power to talk, also she eats a lot for her small being, he has a Beel 2.0 but smaller. 

Mammon. 

He tried to sell the flowers in the garden, but Yukari nearly kill him, not on pourpose though, she put a protection for her flowers, and he crossed the protection, tha result was burns level two, that she cured. 

He is the only demon that like the saying says. “Entra como perro por su casa” it seems that after he burned up her encantations didn´t worked on him, so she needed to make better encantations and even protect her books. Once in a while she likes to cast a spell of truth in him so she can analyse his ways. The first time she spoke Spanish he knew he needed to create a bussiness with her. And her tattos are sick, he takes photos for her, he´s so in love with the art in her back. 

Levi. 

LOOOOOOOL She´s like that character from that anime, plus her hair is sick. He got another otaku by his side, for Yukari it was easy to make a pact with Levi, they became friends in a anime group so they kinda knew each other.

When Levi saw her magic he started to tell her how amazing she was, and how he can summon Lotan, and they totaly need to make a pact, she´s Henry, like in real live. For first time in his life he feels better with himself. 

He actually has a secret pasword with her door, so he can enter whenever he wants too, and laughs when his other brothers can´t even open the door. 

Satan. 

He was the opposite of his three older brothers, he needed to draw a line between that woman and himself, but when he saw how she could read difficult books and even summon other demons and even angels. 

Yukari: Ay Güerito I´m creating this potion so Asmo can´t flirt with me, I just want to see his face. 

She was evil, and he loved it, once he understood that she wasn´t a threat they became quite close.The cherry that was on top of the whole cake, was, Yukari was studying literature back in the human Realm, so yes, Satan made a pact with her, not as fast as Mammon or Levi, but if he was going to have a master, it needed to be her.

Asmo. 

For him, Yukari was cute, and the first impression was way to good for him. If anyone dares to see her body and thinks that she is not sensual, they are wrong, she just doesn´t like to show her atributtes, but damn, those Latin Americans were pure sensuality.  Omg, that type of clothes does match with her personality, she was evil and he loved it, needed more that a look. 

Bloking your door my dear? No problem I always have the key. (He doesn´t have it though)  His human is the best of all, even Solom can cry before her and she wouldn´t mind, his humans are great. 

Beel. 

Most protect my master, Beelzebub actually know her really good, he stayed in her life since she was 10 years old and they agree to make a pact. That means every familiar dinner he went, every birthday there he was, and after a break of each other, when he saw Yukari again he needed to hug and kiss her, she became a proper lady no longer a small child that summon him for cookies or for bullies. 

He got a crush in the 18 years old woman, and even if she doesn´t like him or she see him like a really old uncle that was okey for him. He knows that the flowers and potions that she makes can´t be eaten, so he always waits for her to give him a bite of her lunch or snacks. 

Beelphegor. 

When he tried to kill her in the other line of timpe she threw a flip flop in his head, and actually used her pacts, so Yukari 2.0 could have enough time to cast a spell, she summon an Archangel. It was impressive and the brothers were terrified, one human could summon anything was a danger. 

When she returned to her line she hugged Belphie and told him; If you try to kill me here, I will take your teared your head off, with one spell. After that they became such good friends, and she kept her secrete for eternity. 

With the undateables

Luke. 

Try to bully him and she will bite. She´s small so she hates with all her heart when the brothers are mean to him. Luke loves her, she´s like a big sister, and finally someone can face those devils. She even knows Michael, and when he speaks with him, Michael always tell him how impressed he was. Luke stook with Yukari every time he can, they also make sleepovers, and the curse in her door always give him a candy. He is the happiest Angel alive. 

Solomon. 

Worried, her magic is way to powerfull, he knows her type of magic, but, he can´t make it, that magic is from way far away in the humanity time line, and if she could summon one of the seven brothers when she was young, he didn´t knew how powerfull she was know. Ancient magic might stayed as a secret. He faced Yukari when she was angry, and damn, not even his magic helped him when he recived a Chanclazo.  

Simeon. 

He liked her, her apperiance was angelical, and her height was the cutest of them all, but he knew that even the Archangels had respect for that human, he saw her once in the  Realm, and he was shocked, she was nearly 14 years old, and was talking with Uriel like nothing. 

Diavolo. 

As powerful as a human might be, they have a time limit, he´s not that affraid of Yukari, he knows that she can handdle herself, and won´t start a rebelion Right? Even if she does that, he can always marry her and that would be all. 

Barbatos. 

He got atonished when she returned from the temporal line time, that wasn´t part of his plan, and she managed to break it. They became close, not only to know Yukari better but he needed to keep an eye on her, she wasn´t normal, she was playing with fire, but she didn´t get any burn of it.

LET´S LEARN SPANISH!

Chanclazo.  When a flip flop hit you

Güerito, This one is how should I say it? Kinda racist, means when a person has a white skin color and when he or she has a lighter hair. BUT in Mexico in the market, all people are güeritos, so dont worry. 

“Entra como perro por su casa”  He enters like a dog in his house

cempasúchil  A flower that means 1000 petals. And we use them for day of the deaths.

Papel picado Type of paper, that is use for our day of the deaths, in the ofrendas

“Pendeja, los demonios no son juguetes.” “DEJA EN PAZ A ESE DEMONIO YUKARI VERÓNICA PEREZ AGUILAR O YO TE PUTEO AQUÍ Y AHORA”: IDIOT, THE DEMONS AREN´T TOYS. LEAVE ALONE THAT DEMON YUKARI VERÓNICA PEREZ AGUILAR, OR I WILL KICK YOU HERE AND NOW. 

It´s very common that Latins owns 2 names and put the two last names of the two families, the whole name from a mother, means danger. 

 AMAAA DEJA LA CHANCLA NO, NOOOOOOOO EN LA ESPALDA NOOOOOOOOOOOOO AMAAAA MIS TATUAJESSS.

MOOOOOM LEAVE THE FLIP FLOP NO, NOOOOOOO, NO IN THE BACK, NOOOOOOOOOO MOOOOMMM MY TATOOS. 

¿¿Quien te manda pendeja??

Who leads you asshole?

horchata

Type of drink,without alcohol. It is usually made of rice, and it´s sweet. 

espesas : Thick. 

#obey me shall we date #obey me headcanons #obey me latin #obey me mammon #obey me undateables #obey me lucifer #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #Obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me luke #obey me simeon #obey me solomon #obey me diavolo #obey me barbatos #obey me let´s learn Spanish

[baobaojng]

secrets of the hill (jung jaehyun) - second

secrets of the hill (jung jaehyun) - first, second, third, fourth, fifth

jung yoonoh (jaehyun) x reader - 1800’s jaehyun!au , arranged marriage! au , supernatural-ish?!au , victorian? i think? !au

themes: angst, fluff, (just some implied smut along the way, i’m far too soft)

reminders: i’m half lazy, so i might not be able to drown myself in as much 1800’s facts as i’m supposed to as a responsible author — SO, yes, this will purely rely on fiction

note: oh hello did i forget to mention the SLOW BURN nature of this story? no? well.. there, i said it.

summary: in the present day you are confused; you do not know who you are and you find yourself on an impossible quest to find out— until you wake up in the 1800’s, engaged to a hauntingly beautiful and uptight man who tries to figure out why the girl he’s been betrothed to has drastically changed.

wordcount: 5,320

>

If a man loses his fiancée for four months, whether or not he liked her during the time that he got to know her and she him, the most obvious course of action when he sees her again after her return is to want to immediately find out why she ever went missing.

So you expect just that: for this man before you to speak to you. Based on the look on his face you could tell that it held a million questions, but as his jaw clenched even rougher at your general direction he only stared for a little while longer until he walked past the both of you. Just when you were about to speak to him too.

You thought Yuta said he was one of the kindest men to ever walk on this Earth? (Or well at least he spoke about ‘his lord’ in a way that the man could feed the land’s armies with only his kindness.)

Straightening the skirt of your dress, up to where your arms can reach, you are embarrassed. Never have you felt so flustered. Knowing you were no real reliable judge of character at the moment, you could only hope that this was a rough encounter. Perhaps his mind is too tired to create a reaction, but that was still unreasonable - you had to admit.

A younger boy who entered with that man was charging toward you in pure glee, and you did not even notice his presence until you were enveloped in a tight hug. This corset was cursed. “Lady Y/N!” He exclaims in enthusiasm, and Yuta immediately notices your need for air.

“That is enough, young lord Donghyuck. I believe the lady cannot breathe.” The butler commands and the young boy stops. His name was Donghyuck, and you heard that he was the lord’s little brother. He lets go quickly when he hears that you let out a squeak.

“Hello my lord.” You greet him, out of breath.

He only looks at you quizzically. Was there something in your teeth? You mirror his expression.

“Oh are you not joking?” The young lord seems worried. “Have we not agreed that you not call me that, lady Y/N?” Your eyes are wide.

“I apologize, it was just a little slip of the tongue.” You try and pretend like you are at fault instead, and you look over at Yuta for some clue - to which he mouths ‘his name,’ repeatedly. This man was a human survival kit. “Donghyuckie.” You add a little magical touch, and at first the young lord cringes but he smiles brightly.

“My brother has walked far enough not to hear that, right?” He looks over and asks Yuta who violently nods his head. “Good. I’m going to get in trouble if he hears that I’m comfortable with you. The last time we were kidding around I had to accompany him to a boring meeting with the barons of the family, it was ridiculous!”

You are about to react, but you feel a pang go through your head— and when you close your eyes you are caught in a daze of light. A scene you cannot control plays in your mind.

~

“Now, now. You must get back to reading your books before your brother catches you.” You warn Donghyuck, who is pouting like the true child that he was. His governess was sick for the day and you took it upon yourself to look over his studies.

“I am not a child, lady Y/N. I think my brother very much knows how capable I am, I need not read another phrase from any of these.” He folds his arms together.

In a sing-song voice you respond. “Oh well, that’s not any fair either. You know very well how much he worries about you. I think he only wants what’s best for you.” He looks at you with glassy eyes, but you know what those eyes mean. It stems deeper than how much his brother cared; reasons why his brother cared too much for it to be normal. You did not mean to indirectly bring anything up, and Donghyuck knows this too - but this was an unspoken truth that everyone always avoided speaking of.

“Well if he did care for me enough he would not treat me like this, I know he’s only trying to keep me as far away from the truth as he can.”

“Don’t say that!” You protest. “Has he not proven himself enough? Donghyuckie, you’re just falling in over your head that’s all. I will allow you to take a break, but I won’t hear of this anymore.”

The younger boy is silent now, but he resorts to a slightly angry whisper. “Must you always defend him because you are going to be wed?”

“That is enough.” His older brother stands by the doorway of the library and he looks over toward the direction of his younger brother who is stricken with guilt, “I will allow this break, brother.” And then he turns to you, “lady Y/N, I hate to demand things of you as I have one too many times - but I will talk to you outside.”

The funniest part of walking outside, following this man, is that you fear him. Not only in that moment, but in every single careful time you try to tiptoe along the ridges of his command. For the most part, you think, he is a respectable man. He has always been generous to people, never turning his curtilage away from anyone who needed it— and sometimes anyone who just wanted it. He always managed his work very well: following scholarly procedures but never afraid of taking risks in the name of success. He has always been gentle, never showing a streak of violence despite sometimes you knew your actions were far too much for him to handle. To add perfectly on top of that, he is best at self-presentation. Both metaphorically and literally. Although regardless of how you think he is, you think that you are always cautious with the words you speak - for you are afraid to offend him, the actions you apply - for you are afraid to embarrass him, the way you are - for you are afraid of seeming inferior to him, and even worse: making him seem inferior to anyone else who knew that the two of you were meant to be wed.

Now he avoids your gaze, looking to his own sides. He lets out a large breath, and you can smell the tobacco he has been smoking. You hated when he did that. “I know I have been very lenient about your interactions with my own brother, but there are some things that I cannot tolerate in my own home. I think that I do not find comfort in you telling him your interpretations of my intentions.”

He has not spoken enough, yet you find that you feel you are shrinking. The man is mot even looking at you.

You wince. “Are your intentions not kind? Am I wrong to believe you want what is best for him?”

“I do want that for him, but he does not need my compassion— and definitely not your’s. You should stop allowing him to act upon his emotions, people like you can only make excuses for him for such a long time until he grows up.” His gaze is stern, and his words hurt.

People like you? “He is a child. You want to take that away from him too? You know very well that he is starting to think for himself now, you cannot take his own freedom to decide away from him. Allow him to dilly-dally, stop making him feel like you are trying to remind him who he is.” The words are being eaten by your inability to even mask confidence, but you say it with a smile even if you are stung in places you never knew you could feel that sensation. As you always do.

“That is not what I was saying, I was asking something else of you when I called you out to talk—“

“But am I not correct? Your actions translate that way, lord Jaehyun.” Never have you tried to talk back to him like this.

“If you cannot have this conversation with me properly, we will not have this conversation at all. Know your place and we will not have to deal with each other this way.”

And like he always does, he walks away to leave you behind, making you feel as though you are wrong.

~

As you recover from practically experiencing the memory that had just flashed through your mind— you learn that there are visitors who frequent the Jeong manor, but Yuta likes to call them residents as they never seem to leave once they visit.

“You never liked the Yang sisters; lady Eleanor and lady Catherine have always been despicable toward you.”

As you delicately place yourself on the velvet sofa, you try to conceptualize whatever ‘despicable’ would mean in the eighteenth century. Did they call you a wench once before, or did they throw stones at you? “I need to know how terrible they are, that is if you agree that they really are terrible.”

Yuta nods his head too quickly, “terrible is an understatement.” He takes his thumb to rest on the tip of his chin to think of any good instance to prove his point. “When the count Taeyong got engaged a few years ago - even before you were promised to lord Jaehyun - they threw you into the pond and pretended it was an accident.” Considering that he had mentioned you apparently grew up around and knew all of these elitist fools was believable, you would not believe that his father would arrange for his son to marry somebody subpar to him. You hated to groom your ego in this life, but it seemed that the conditions you found yourself in were in favorable grounds (so far.) “I remember lord Jaehyun telling me this story when we were on our way home that night and he had a little too much to drink, he told me the only reason why a fight ensued between you and those sisters was because you were defending one of the uglier girls of the Sui family from them. He thought it was heroic.” Just as you thought the story would have some good resolve, you roll your eyes at the mention of this Jaehyun thinking of you kindly.

The very questionable memory you obtained lay some film of bittersweet in your mouth, the idea of him just filling you with challenge. An attractive man with a dangerously sharp tongue. There was no way in hell that memory could be unreal too; it felt like he was breathing his degradation down into your neck.

“Yes, but what about those girls?” Before you could get off topic, you remind Yuta what you were talking about.

“Nasty leeching ladies who think they are royals and want to get on every single one of your nerves is all I can say.” He says in one go and you laugh. “We expect their arrival by tomorrow; they always come by a day after the lord comes home from business. They wait for the gossip before they ever come visit, but the best part this time around is that they still think you are not here.”

After he teaches you some names of prominent people you were to inevitably meet, this was also after the many hours of other things he mentions, you bid the butler a good night as you were far too tired now to function.

You are brushing your hair as you sit sideways, facing the mirror. The only light guiding your task comes from the candles you have lit. Soft knocking sounds come from your door, and you think that maybe it is Yuta - maybe in the 1800’s there were proper sleeping instructions for ladies.

“Come in.” You call, and the door creaks as it opens.

Shock or surprise are common emotions you have felt over the past few days, and to suddenly discover that you are meant to marry this man in this life - or maybe higher powers require you to marry to be able to figure out why you are here - is something all too heavy in itself. When you were looking for some sense of purpose for the entire year you were chasing some worn out mystery, the last thing on your mind was to look for love or to find that in somebody. Except now that you are presented with this convenient option to love or any semblance of, you decide that you automatically associate him with the disgust of your own annoyance. You find that you almost already dislike like this Jeong Jaehyun.

“Give me a few moments to speak with you,” he looks like he does not want to be here, “my own butler won’t mention a thing of your return. And this is the most appropriate thing to do.” The view of him you could see is a reflection from your mirror, despite the poor lighting you could tell he was a very ravishing man. Damn his good looks.

“Most appropriate thing to do?” You allow a sarcastic laugh to leave your lips. “If you do not like the idea of having a conversation with me out of the kindness of your heart ‘my lord,’” the name drips with sarcasm, “then I advise for you to not have one with me at all. I’m sure you are a very busy man, and I do mot see how this does justice to your time.”

“Have I no right to find out what happened to you?” He does not like your answer.

You turn now to face him. “We can cut to the chase.” The man is not familiar with the figure of speech, and when you notice the look on his face you proceed to speak to avoid any suspicion. “You do not have to act like you care. See I know my place now, and just because we’re socially obligated to marry does not mean you’re morally obligated to care.”

His beautiful face falters; he is a little surprised to hear you talk back to him like this - you always acted so kind despite the awkward air shared between the two of you. “What gives you the right to control what I can’t and can care for?”

“My lord, should we not forget who we are?”

He clicks his tongue onto the roof of his mouth to make a sound, “I suppose not.” He turns away, and before he can leave your room he says a little more. “Good night, lady Y/N.”

-

Clinking sounds filled the long and empty dining table as you sat there, still stirring the tea that was served to you about twenty minutes ago. Your posture was straight and stiff, and you very much looked like you did not want to be here. This was your second morning to wake up here in this place, and no matter how much you ached to believe that this still was unreal - you wondered how long you were to be here. Did the universe prepare some sort of puzzle game for you to figure out who Yuno was, or what the page on the (missing) sketchbook meant? It was all still unclear, especially since you had no plan to start with.

Jeong Jaehyun entered the dining room, dressed impeccably, looking at you like you were some sort of intruder— and you thought that in some way you kind of were. You looked at him with the same level of dislike, if not more. He sat down at the other end of the table, and it seemed that this staring competition was going to be imminent.

“So I told the ugly little thing, ‘if you intend to show your face around here, you should at least learn how to wear lace properly.’” The door from which Jaehyun entered was still very much open, so you could clearly hear the echoing voices coming from the hallway. Upon their entry, you could feel your nerves tingle in annoyance with no known particular reason. But maybe because they are exactly what you expect based on Yuta’s descriptions.

Two girls entered, already nearing Jeong Jaehyun as they walked. They were dressed in obviously finer clothing, and you had to admit that they were gorgeous, although there was a stench in character about them already.

So far in the past forty eight hours you have found yourself in this time warp, you were acting upon a lot of your own instincts.

One of them, the blonde (who you know is Eleanor), notices your presence first - and gasps as if she’s seen a ghost. The brunette notices the other’s expression, and stares right at you.

“She’s here?” It comes out as a whisper from the brunette (who you know is Catherine), but the room is so large that even the presence of four people and the furniture could not mask the echoing the sounds made.

“She is.” You say in your normal speaking voice, wrapping your index finger around the ear of your teacup as you lift it up to your mouth to take a sip. Your sat there in pure confidence, their shock was exciting although you did not understand why it made you feel that way. It was really questionable how their immediate response is to throw a light tantrum at your presence, to which you simply smirk to in your cup.

In Jeong Jaehyun’s mind, he finds the sight quite amusing. Despite your rough encounter the night before, he doesn’t ever remember you ever challenging the Yang sisters like this. When he walked into the dining hall he was surprised to see how you looked like you were ready for any challenge. Although you had always dressed in your preferred color of clothing, the way you walked around and carried yourself had an air of confidence to it. In all the years he has known you, you’ve always been a little more awkward and too far too kind for your own good. But now it seems you are like a feline: confidently striding through your actions and waiting to take a scratch at anything that seemed a threat. Maybe the months have thought you something, and that your disappearance was to blame.

“I thought you disappeared into thin air.” Catherine accuses.

You scoff into your tea, which they obviously both take as an insult because their eyes flare into their own lids as you do so. “And I thought that within the four months I was gone, you probably would have decided to do something much much better with your lives than to intrude somewhere you are not of any help.” Slowly looking directly to them you add, “so I think that leaves the two of us wrong, lady Catherine.”

They both gasp, not coming up with anything better to say. Jaehyun snickers very audibly in his seat, and you are surprised that he sides with you on this.

~

The metal feels rough when it comes into contact with your palms, even your callouses are worn out at this point but you do not seem to be taking much rest. Your work station has become a messy array of tools and the many mismatched papers filled with notes and diagrams.

You were currently creating an alarm system for the kitchen: a timer for when anything was already boiling - just so the maids could multitask when they prepared the meals. It was a little side project you took to making, much like the many other things you just came up with on a whim. There was a big unfinished machine in the middle of the room which felt like it staring at you, but at the moment (and honestly, many many other moments) you could not deal with the monstrosity - so you would do easier projects that cleared your mind off of it.

Creating objects that made life convenient was a thing of interest for you. Remembering how it always captured your attention from very early stages in your life, you made sure you learned about it— mastered it. You were lucky that money could override the implications of your gender. The times were not too kind as to accept a woman into this specific education, but you bought your way right through those odds and it proved to be effective.

With just one last bolt secured in place, you were finally finished.

You would have felt the pure joy of relief after tiring your arms and hands, but Jaehyun walked through your doors without permission. Once again you were reminded that he was not the kindest man when it came to you, and you remembered why you sought out refuge in the room designated for you to practice your profession.

Because both his guests were getting on your nerves, and you did not have half the balls to tell him - so instead you excused yourself without a word and courteously waked out of dinner. You ran to the west wing of the mansion, stopping at nothing to find your place of solace. Your one mistake was leaving the door open.

“I know we are never truly comfortable in each other’s company, but I do want to say that if there is a problem that needs to be addressed then I want you to tell me so we can sort those differences out.” He quickly declares, but you do not understand where this all comes from.

“I’m sorry, I don’t think I understand.” You say as you take a cloth and start wiping at the contraption you just finished, but you look at him with curiosity.

“Well I think if you would excuse yourself out of dinner because you cannot handle sharing a meal with me, I would much rather you sit through and pretend as if there is nothing bothering you.” Jaehyun begins to press at your buttons, and inside you cannot breathe.

“That isn’t true.” You eat at your words, but you cannot even look at him.

“If it wasn’t true then my guests would not be speaking of it.” He accuses, and now you can better understand where his anger is coming from. Always has he been so defensive of the Yang sisters. There wasn’t any use in arguing with him now; you knew that he would be set on believing them. “If there’s anything I ask of you, it’s for you to stop embarrassing this household.”

It is painful when you bite your tongue, but you nod your head in return because you know that you do not want to deal with this - and you do not know how. Tears could come out of your eyes any second now, but you keep them from falling. You were going to endure these misunderstandings, as you always did anyway. It was easy to say that you could go on and get out of there, but looking at all of the projects you’ve conducted and the research you’ve put into paper because this place allows you to do as you please with your work— you know you cannot find any other safe place other than the manor.

Donghyuck walks into his brother’s study, and sighs dramatically. Too dramatically.

Jaehyun knows this means that his little brother has something to say, particularly something that bothers him.

“What is it, Donghyuck?” Jaehyun asks so that this would be over with, he had some documents to review and he did not want to prolong his brother’s presence. The last time his little brother burst into the room and sighed as loud as he did, it was because he broke his third wooden flute. Little things that did not really matter to Jaehyun and could be easily fixed with money.

“Lady Y/N has locked herself inside her quarters again.” His little brother pouts and Jaehyun already knows that he is to blame for this— except he knows that he will not

tell the younger lord, “she won’t tell me why. I do know that she tends to be very kind and she prefers not to argue with everybody else, but I think the orphan comment lady Catherine made during dinner was too much. Maybe we need to convince lady Y/N not to be upset about it?” His brother speedily explained, and Jaehyun was left to interpret this. Orphan comment?

“I do not remember hearing anything during dinner.” He tells his brother, but the younger one shakes his head to disagree.

“Just before you joined us right when the lady excused herself, lady Catherine shamed her and called her an orphan.”

From what Jaehyun was told by Catherine, the reason why you walked away so abruptly the moment he entered the dining hall was because you mentioned that you could not stomach his presence. Leading him to confront you in the designated workspace. This was the version of the truth that he knew, and it was the version of truth he was too prideful to even question. Both of the Yang sisters have always outwardly declared their distaste of you, so he did not think twice about the certainty of any orchestration against you. Although he also knew you were closer to his younger brother compared to any of the Yang sisters, he also knew for a fact that his brother would never like to him about anything. He trusted Donghyuck and Yuta this way, that they would never deny him the truth.

Everybody knew of the ill fate of your immediate family, leaving you to be an orphan. But in all the years he knew you, and all the months you lived under his roof - you never mentioned a word of this to him. Probably because he never truly accepted the idea of being betrothed, and you were always just too kind and allowed him to be cold toward you no matter how abrasive his words and his actions became. So to be surprised by this truth was to also be surprised by the guilt: that he assumed and acted upon anger all too quickly.

Jeong Jaehyun never mentioned this again, his pride too high to apologize, but he promised himself that he would be more attentive of you and more so the interactions you had with the Yang sisters.

~

“Yuta, did I have a place to work in the manor before. To maybe practice my engineering?” You ask the butler as pours you some medicinal tea, your head hurts from the vision you just incurred after breakfast and you were now in your bed trying to get rid of the pain through rest. If these visions were real, then you could guess that everything in them were real too.

He looks surprised when you ask this, never getting around to showing you all the nooks and crannies of the house during the first time he showed you around. You asking such a specific question about the house (and the question being right) was not at all expected.

“Yes miss Y/N, one of the rooms at the end of the west wing where there are stairs leading down to the basement floor of the manor,” but then he wonders, “unless you have gone around the manor on your own already?”

But you turn to him hurriedly, gripping at his wrist. “I think I’m going mad, Yuta.” You tell him softly, not to catch him too off guard but he only looks like he is willing to listen. “Memories are coming to me, and I don’t want to believe that they are mine but they feel like they are.”

“Memories?”

“Of this manor, of the people here. It’s all very unclear, and I am not sure how they come to me. That is why I remember my workspace.” You explain, finishing the tea he served. Yuta only quietly cleans up. “Why are you not calling me mad?” You ask him and he pauses.

“I grew up in this mansion with the lords, and they would like to say that they treat me like a brother. It is really a beautiful place, away from the bustle of the centre.” He describes with a smile. “But do not let the countryside fool you; it is much scarier where we are. These walls tell speak many stories, and I am in the point of my life where nothing here truly surprises me anymore.”

Everything used is arranged on his tray, and before he can walk out he finally says, “I think it should have left an impression when I found you looking around in the antiquities, miss Y/N. Good night.”

Slumber is not a friend you make that night, as you are filled with too much thought - pondering upon what Yuta had told you. The overthinking causing you to magnify all of the troublesome details in the dark of your room: the dust, the smell, the thick sheets. You scramble in the darkness, looking for a candle and something to light the fire.

To your surprise, you allow your feet to take you where they can remember. The halls seem long and winding in the dark, the only light you see comes from the warm hues of your candle. Wax dripping around the metal that holds it.

There is a metal door, with a heavy latch that blocks the entrance. You think that this it is impossible to enter, but your mind goes back to the memory that went through your mind earlier and you allow your eyes to close. Feeling each curve and groove of the door, you press upon some of them - and it works. They are like buttons that sink inside the frame of the door, and although the illusion of the latch is the most eye-catching thing about this door it is pure genius how it all actually works.

Once you enter, all the lamps in the room light up and you follow the template of vein like structures that lead to the lamps on the wall— a mechanism that sparks up the gas lamps whenever the door is opened. A primitive wiring system in itself.

Although it all should be alien to you, your eyes flicker across the room and it looks like how it was in your head. Messy but at the same time neat, the big contraption sitting in the middle of the room - dust collecting at the top of all of the objects in the room. They were right when you were told that you were gone for four months, because the molds growing in the corners perfectly said so too. It feels like wonderland as you observe all the tools and the way they were designed— it seemed that they were not created in this century, looking like that from the future.

You stumble upon the large table in the room, covered in all random objects. Then you turn to the papers scattered, and you see that the penmanship in most of the notes are unmistakably your own. Thinking that you own self, if this was truly you, would probably not leave any clues in notes about machines - you turn your attention elsewhere.

Reaching out in a pile of envelopes all stacked upon each other, you read the labels to find out who addressed them out to you.

Lord Taeyong was inquiring about how he can improve his makeshift security system.

Some duke about the rejection of his proposal from years ago.

And the last two letters— probably the most controversial ones of the evening: the Count Moon Taeil in an unopened envelope, and one from Yuno with only his name and yours written on the front.

end of second part

next: third part

#jaehyun scenarios #jaehyun scenario #jaehyun fanfic #jaehyun x reader #jung jaehyun x reader #nct imagines #jaehyun #jung yoonoh #jaehyun angst #jaehyun fluff #jaehyun imagine #jaehyun fic #jaehyun imagines #nct imagine #nct scenarios #nct scenario #nct fluff #nct angst #jung jaehyun scenarios #jung jaehyun fan fic #jung jaehyun fic #nct 127

[cyberaxolotl]

Tricks Over Treats

two versions woo hee

and then the writing piece to go along with it

“An Alternate Desire”

For an all popular DJ, he had a lot more to know about him than what was known to the public, some of which stayed shrouded in mystery to even his boyfriend and closest friends. One of the things he did make very clear to anyone who saw him around that time of year was that he was a HUGE fan of Halloween. Spooky jack-o-lanterns, sweets, costumes, he still thoroughly enjoyed it, even as an adult. He loved remixing classic Halloween tunes to add a more techno vibe to them, and that wasn’t going to change any time soon. And finally, he loved the scares; he was willing to be a bit sick around that time of year with his jokes, as anything scary was widely accepted and usually expected.

Especially not now, when there’s a Halloween party for all the musicians in Rhythm Heaven to attend, as well as any plus 1’s they might wish to have with them. Hosted by the rap men (obviously) and having as many different types of music as you could think of playing one after the other in the main hall, it was going to be a great party to have a good laugh. And for everyone to see any friends they had made since the Battle Of The Bands.

DJ Yellow, of course, had Blue with him. While his boyfriend wasn’t the biggest fan of that scary time of year, he still enjoyed talking to some of the others and seeing them all happy.

“I need to put my costume on in the car, but I’ll be inside in just a moment!” DJ Yellow said, nudging his partner while they were in the entrance hall.

“…Why didn’t you just put it on while we were at the apartment?” Blue asked, turning around. His costume itself was rather plain, he was just dressed as a vampire with a little bit of fake blood on his chin, but he was perfectly happy with that. It was one of the few times of year when he’d go out with his dreadlocks down, too.

“Cause! I wanted it to be a surprise for you too!” Deej gave a quick finger gun, before slipping out the door. His boyfriend sighed, feeling only mildly inconvenienced that he’d need to be alone at a party for a few minutes, and moreover very anxious. He never was one for direct social interaction.

As he walked into the main hall, he was immediately addressed. “Heeey, Blue!” A happy sounding, higher pitched voice called out to him, and he immediately knew who it was. “Where’s Yellow?” B.B. Rocker asked him, standing shorter than him and only around his chest height.

“Yellow’s in the car putting his costume on. Chances are, he just forgot to put it on at home.” He replied, looking down at his friend. They wore a costume that was… on the stranger side, but not out of character for them. It was an orange-white tabby cat suit with a denim dress put on over it, a pair of matching cat ears sitting in their ginger hair. They looked rather cute, if Blue’s bisexual ass could say so himself.

“Ah, so did J.J. He’s getting changed in the bathroom.” They turned away, looking down another hallway in the back of that room.

Blue sighed. “Oh boy…”

“What?”

“J.J.’s here, Yellow’s gonna be here soon. Chances are sometime in the night that is not going to end well.” He folded his arms, glancing away. There were certainly a lot of people there, like MC Adore and her love posse all in matching costumes, the Pop Singer Yui in a cutesy zombie outfit, and apparently even the rap women had managed to slip in, as Rosebud and Sapphie were happily talking to a trio of ghosts. What stood out to him, though, was the fact that the rap men were nowhere to be seen. If they were hosting that gig, they should’ve either been in the entrance hall greeting people, or in the main hall talking.

“Oh, you’re right. Guess we’ll just have to hope they don’t directly cross paths and say something shitty to each other, huh?” B.B. sighed as well, holding the back of their neck.

“You know it’s more likely for J.J. to say something shitty than for Yellow to. Yellow’s not an asshole, he’s just a…” Blue went quiet as he lost his words.

“…A snarky asshole?”

“That.” He motioned in confirmation to them. He looked back over at the rap women, noticing that the Big Rock Finish ghosts were leaving. “I’m gonna go ask the rap women where their brothers are, if Yellow comes in, tell him I’ll be right back.”

“Alrighty!” With that, he walked away, leaving B.B. by the entrance.

As he got closer to the snack table, he was able to tell what Rosebud and Sapphie were wearing as costumes. They were matching, as expected from the two of them, and had gone for a western theme. Rosebud was dressed as a saloon dancer, a crimson skirt falling to the back of her ankles and a corset tied around her waist. It also seemed that she had taken the opportunity to wear something only a bit more revealing than her usual outfits. Sapphie was dressed as a cowgirl, hiding her eyes in the shadow of a ten gallon hat, and wearing open bottom pants. The two certainly matched, but had their own ways of doing it, the mutual color palette between their costumes tying it together.

“Excuse me, girls?” He asked, and the two turned over to face him.

“Oh, hi Blue.” Sapphie humbly waved at him, smiling. “Do you need something?”

“I don’t, but I want to ask- where are your brothers?” The two ladies' expressions tensed.

“Jasper and Goldie? Uh…” Rosebud’s eyebrows furrowed. “…I don’t know, actually. Sapphire?” She looked up at her girlfriend.

The taller woman shrugged. “I haven’t seen either of them since they left the recording studio, but they’re probably somewhere around here. Sorry, Blue.”

“Hm.” Blue looked skeptical, glancing behind him. “Alright then. I need to go back to B.B., you two have fun.” He turned around, his dreadlocks nearly whipping him in the face.

“Bye-bye!” Rosebud said as he walked away.

When he got back over to his rock student friend, they looked confused. “Is something wrong, B.B?” He asked, and they turned to him.

“No, no, nothing. Just… JJ is taking an awful long while to put his costume on. He went in just before you arrived.” They put a hand behind their head, “We’re supposed to be a cat and a dog, so he might be struggling with the suit or something.”

“Now that you mention it, if Yellow is taking this long to put it on, then he really should’ve put it on at the apartment-“

As if on cue, the door opened, and DJ Yellow slid in overdramatically. Since nobody noticed him except BB and Blue, he got up in one quick motion, turning over to them. “Hey guys!” He said happily, walking over. His costume was made of… really dark colors, something completely out of character for him. It was all black with a dark red cape that made his neck completely covered, looking completely out of place while paired with his unaltered hair and headphones. For reasons neither of them could decipher, he also carried a lit jack-o-lantern.

“Hey Yellow..?” BB raised an eyebrow, giving a short wave.

“…” Blue spent several seconds trying to decipher what his lover was wearing, before sighing. “Yellow, what are you supposed to be?”

The DJ walked over and leaned against his taller counterpart’s arm as though he was trying to lean against his shoulder but was just too short to do so. “A surprise.”

“That’s what you said when you were putting ON the costume.” The sarcastic remark made Yellow chuckle.

“Yes, but what I’m gonna do in this costume is also a surprise.”

“Just tell us what the costume is, Deej!” The rockstar leaned in, and mysterious refusal after cryptic refusal soon descended into laughter and casual conversation. It was rare for Yellow to oblige to interact with BB, but Blue was glad that they could get along on a night like that.

But… he still couldn’t downplay it.

Something was wrong.

Or off.

Yellow didn’t sound like himself, nor did his mouth follow his words. His mouth had a delay compared to his words, as though his head and his voice box were working as two separate parts rather than as the same body. His voice sounded less like his smug and casual self was talking and more like some kind of modulation, as though a robot with his voice was reading from a script and trying to sound like a person.

Blue chalked it up to one of two things. One idea was that the tragedy striking Heaven World had hailed itself down to Earth World and struck the man right before him- they were called Alternates, and they took the places of people, making themselves look completely like them- except they had the ability to do things that were biologically impossible, like rip their head off and live, or be engulfed in flames and come out without a scar. Both of those things were examples that Heaven World had given out across the entire land, as they were things they had tried to do to kill Alternates. So far, though, the only way discovered to kill an Alternate was to stab it in the third eye, which appeared somewhere on the body and was usually a spot like the arm, neck, or leg.

What Alternates did with people was unknown, but all that was figured out was the disappearances of many, many real people, and the replacement and spreading of fake versions.

DJ Yellow was either an alternate… or pulling a sick joke and pretending to be one. It wasn’t far fetched to expect him to pull a downright awful joke like that at a Halloween party, so Blue shrugged it off like nothing, knowing that he was probably the only one at that party who paid attention to news from Heaven World. Considering that the DJ hadn’t started acting weird like that until they HAD reached the party, it seemed more logical than just immediately assuming the person before him was fake.

A few hours passed. Music played, fatty and sweet food was eaten, and musicians and their plus 1’s spoke to one another. Only a few minutes after their conversation had happened, the rap men entered the main hall from the back, dressed in matching costumes that looked like zombies. It depended on the person whether or not watching them question how the fuck their sisters had gotten in was entertaining or not, but the girls weren’t kicked out either way.

Everything seemed to be pulling together finely, until…

JJ and Yellow hadn’t seen each other at all that night, until at one point, the DJ was asked to get an alcoholic drink from the kitchen. The alcohol wasn’t out freely at the snack tables, just to make sure nobody accidentally drank liquor or beer over dyed punch, so people would usually ask their partner to get a drink for them from the back.

JJ was returning from the back hall just as Yellow was descending down it, and it seemed the rockstar couldn’t resist a small remark. “And what are you supposed to be?” He said as the two were about to cross paths.

DJ Yellow stopped in his place, a cocky smirk on his face. “The headless horseman, obviously.” He held up the jack-o-lantern, holding it in front of his head.

“You have a head, DJ.” The other musician glared, raising an eyebrow.

There was a sudden tension in the air as the two realized they were alone in that hallway, and the door to the main hall was completely shut. “You think so?” Yellow turned his head and raised an eyebrow. Before JJ could even say anything-

He thrust the jack-o-lantern backwards.

It slammed into his head and he fell backwards, the lit candle squishing against his face and setting his hair on fire, hot wax falling onto his skin. JJ was stunned silent as he watched DJ Yellow’s body stand up without his head, leaving the smoldering wax and flesh on the floor. “Isn’t this a funny costume, JJ?” All of the remnants of his original voice were replaced by the whispering, fake voice of an alternate person.

“Wh- wha- what the fuck-?!” The rockstar couldn’t scream, he could only let out hushed curses. What he saw didn’t feel real in the slightest. As the other man stood up, he could see that the place where his head and his neck had separated held no arteries or bones, but only one bloodshot yellow eye. Blood leaked down his neck as his head smoldered in flames, melting as though it in itself was made of wax.

DJ Yellow stood back up. He turned around and picked up the pile of wax, human flesh, and pumpkin flesh, shaping it back together with his hands. “The look on your face- I don’t think I’ve ever been more entertained!” He laughed, “You’d never believe how long I’ve been waiting to pull that trick. I love being in the body of someone who finds jokes funny!” With that, he put his head back on his neck, tying his cape carefully so that the blood of his neck was veiled.

He walked right up to the rockstar’s face, leaning close.

“Be lucky this isn’t Heaven World.”

so yeah there’s your “yellow becomes a fucking cryptid” writing piece lmao

#rhythm heaven #dj school #rhythm tengoku #dj yellow #rap men #rap women #the rockers #horror writing #gore tw #tw gore #tw dark content #edners 2021 month of macabre art #chances are this is stuffed with typos i don’t proofread lmao