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extremelyblackandwhite · 3 years

Text

ascendance - 01

PAIRING: mob!bucky barnes x reader

WARNINGS: violence, dark themes, age gap (reader is 23, bucky is 37)

SUMMARY: she was at the wrong place at the wrong time and a misunderstanding dooms her to a life as an ascendance card under the watch of the executer.

A/N: i’m so excited to go back to my mob writing roots with this one. there’s a bit of a few twists and changes to the traditional mob writing i’ve done before and i am really excited to be sharing chapter one with you. hope you enjoy it xx

> NEXT CHAPTER

The ambience was dark, badly lit by the yellow flickering lights in the halls with echoes of the buzzing of the hot old light bulbs. There was no sound but that buzz and the heavy sound of his boots hitting the rotting wood floor boards. The scent in the air was putrid, a mix of what seemed like life meeting its end stage, cheap cider and weed. It was definitely different and he didn’t trust it.

At the end of the corridor there it was. 107. The 107th flat in purgatory with the door slightly opened. He pushed the door open, the smell getting more intense and his boots sticky with the liquor spilled on the floor.

- What did you do? - each word was punctuated with intense disbelief, as if this was all a nightmare.

- Bucky, help me!

PRESENT

The wind brushed and pulled her hair into different directions as she stepped off the train’s step. She rushed through the streets of New York, hair pin stuck in the middle of her teeth as she fought the winds to try and set her hair into an appropriate hair do while running down the street at the same time. The chattering people and the sun peaking through the clouds was hopeful as she grabbed her coffee from the same vendor off the side street as her eyes gazed upon the Metropolitan Opera House which had been gracing the New York landscape for longer than she had been on this earth and now she was part of it, she was a small speck in an almost 60 year long history.

Her smiled widened as her sneakers hit the pavement, eyes gazing over the fountain and the flags of the production coming down from the opera house’s arches. The same production she was part off. Sure, she was a chorus girl but the mere thought of singing on that stage, of watching that public in those red velvet seats under the chandelier just made it all more exciting. She walked inside the theatre through the stage door, meeting the manager at the door.

- Hi. - she leaned her hands against the desk where the manager was surrounded by attendance and cast sheets as well as a big laptop shining a blue light onto her face. The woman didn’t even look up, instead putting up a board with the names of all people in the production in front of her. - Do you need to see my ID?

- Just sign in front of your name.

Y/N giddily looked at the list of names, hers closer to the bottom but there, written in bold Arial font. She signed her name in front of her printed one with the barely working pen, before pinning it over the board and handing it over to the manager who pointed inside the opera theatre. She held onto her gym bag harshly, padding the sublime floors and looking around with such wonder one would believe she’d never been here. She’d been here before, she was here every month to watch a performance but now she was not guest, she was not just another person walking in with a ticket, she was part of it, she was part of the show. After years of doing community plays, workshops and failed auditions, she had gotten here and suddenly all those days spent in bed feeling miserable in bed after getting rejected yet again didn’t matter anymore she was here.

Her eyes glanced at every tiny little ornament in the opera house until she entered the theatre room. Her heart filled with joy and happy nostalgia as the red and golden tones of the room involved her. There wasn’t anyone in the theatre yet except for a few musicians from the instrumental pit and some cleaners so she was free to roam around. Her fingers traced the suede velvet of the red seats, finding a few missing binoculars on the grounds but not really caring.

- You! - she whipped her head towards the voice which came from a woman, probably in her mid 40s all dressed in black with a gold name tag slightly above her left breast.

- Hi. - Y/N smiled, extending her hand towards the woman. - I’m Y/N, I’m the new ...

- I don’t care, we need silk ribbons, now.

- Oh, I ... I’m new, I don’t know where I’d get silk ribbons, m’am.

- The costume room? Go, stop looking at me as if you were Bambi and go.

- Oh, okay.

She made her way hastily out of the theatre room wondering how she was going to find silk ribbons, where she was going to find them and why she had to find them. Maybe it was a hazing ritual for new people, after all, she had been into various hazings during her career, including downing a whole bottle of honey which she couldn’t even finish, only eating one fourth of it before becoming nauseous.

She stopped in the middle of the hall, wondering where the costume room could be. It couldn’t be on the top floor, that was usually where the bars and common rooms were so if the building followed regular construction protocols for opera houses, it was probably on the underground section of the house where the dressing rooms used to be. Y/N ventured into the lift, pressing the lowest number on the number chart of the panel until she reached the underground floor. Y/N looked around, people running in and out yet no one stopped whenever she tried to question where the costume room was. She had managed to find the costume shop but no luck finding the costume room until she was pretty much pressed against a dark door with those exact words by the passing crowd.

She twisted the knob of the costume room door, tumbling onto the dark room as a result. The room was filled to the brim with costumes on each side of the room, a plexiglass divider between the two sides which stopped every meter or so and also appeared to be divided onto female and male costumes with the ensemble costumes at the back. She padded across the concrete floors, looking through dresses and accessories for ribbons but no successful attempt. The ruffling from the other side of the room had her turning around, forehead furrowed as she walked towards the plexiglass divider.

- Hello? - she questioned, wondering if there was someone in this room who could help her find silk ribbons. Great, she had barely joined the company and was already screwing up. Great, Y/N. Way to go, Y/N.

She saw someone all dressed in black just like the women before, yet there seemed to be something which didn’t match up; black jeans, black shirt and black leathe jacket as well as a pair of also black boots, scruffed and probably entirely too old to still be holding up together. Her eyes caught his which despite the low almost non existent light of the costume room, were light, a sort of greyish blue like the calm sea before of storm. His gaze pulled hers in, like gravity and she couldn’t help but clutch the jacket next to her as a bad feeling along with something she’d never felt before settled in her stomach.

His hair was mostly pushed back yet the ones which framed his face fell like dominos. She moved along the side where she was to one of the plexiglass gaps and he did the same still maintaining eye contact with her, until the two reached the gap. She didn’t notice she was holding her breathe in until she breathed out.

- Hi. - her own hand gripped her wrist, shoe grinding against the floors. - Uhm, I’m new here and this lady sent me down to find some silk ribbons but I can’t find any. Do you ...

- I... uh ... I don’t know where they are. - he faltered for a few seconds before regaining his posture.

- Oh, I thought since you were here, you might be one of the stage managers.

- I’m not. - his tone was monotonous, almost as if he had the answer to her question before she even made it.

- Oh ... - she rubbed her neck. - Are you also looking for silk ribbons?

- I’m looking for the dressing rooms, actually.

- They’re down the hall. - she pointed at the door as if it was the “down the hall”. - Hum ... Are you new here too?

- Yeah. Thanks. - he walked towards the door, opening it and stepping out before catching her gaze once again.

Y/N remained in the middle of the room as if she were in a transe and maybe she was. It felt like she was falling yet she was firm on her feet and she did not like that feeling. She did not like that feeling of falling, it wasn’t feeling, it was hopeless falling and she wondered why looking at a man who looked like an 80′s glam rock reject made her feel like that, so lost. Maybe it was the respect he appeared to command by merely looking at her or maybe it was the nerves about being new and not being able to find some goddamn silk ribbons. Damn it.

- Call for 30 minutes before dress rehearsal. - the voice came from the intercom and immediately her mind dropped the idea of finding silk ribbons and moved to finding the ensemble dressing room and get dressed and ready. Damn it, this was going well.

She rushed down the hall, bag almost slipping off her shoulder until she saw the door with the ensemble plaque on it. The young woman peaked inside the room where pretty much everyone with a role on the ensemble were already sat down. She shyly walked in the middle row until she found her own little corner, her name written on a sticker on the mirror along with photos of how the makeup should be done as well as how to get the costume in correctly. The same goofy smile returned as she sat down and saw her name above her. It was fine, she was here, she was part of a company.

- Hey you’re new. - the girl next to her twirled her chair to face her. She already had her makeup on and hair pinned curled up and ready to put a wig cap on. - I’m Elliot but people call me Elle.

- Y/N, I’m the new chorus girl. First day.

- Aw, welcome. - she had a bright smile, inviting and almost as exciting as the whole experience of being there. - Do you want help pincurling your hair? I can get it done while you do your makeup.

- Yes, please. - she pulled out a big box from her bag which had all her makeup and pins.

Elle started pin curling her hair up while she put an inappropriate amount of blush on which was just appropriate to get on stage under the bright yellow lights. Turns out half the practice for opera is learning to do your makeup under bright yellow lights and then learning to sing. 10 minutes to rehearsal start, she was along with Elle going down and up to the main stage where most dancers were warming up. Elle left her to do so, leaving Y/N once again to just stand there, looking around like a little sheep in the middle of wolves.

- I’ve never seen you around. - her shoulders almost went up as he turned to see one of the principal sopranos, if not the principal soprano. She had seen all of her shows ever since she was a teenager and she had even wrote an essay for university on her for a module. Catherine Vargas, the best New York could offer, if not the best the world could offer. - I didn’t know they were still casting dancers.

- Oh, I’m a chorus girl, Mrs Vargas.

- A chorus girl? - she furrowed her brows at her, looking her up and down. - What type?

- The type who ... is in the back with the ensemble. - her voice lowered at least a few volumes down, back curved as if she were bowing.

- I know what chorus girls do. I asked what vocal type.

- Lyric soprano, m’am.

- A lyric soprano in the chorus. Interesting. Where did you train?

- Julliard, m’am.

- Julliard? - she looked her up and down again. - That is a great school. What is a Julliard graduate doing in the chorus line?

- Everyone starts somewhere. - she laughed nervously, scratching her arm as she did so.

- Not a lyric soprano from Julliard. Composers sure do love an ingenue, don’t they? Don’t worry, a few months with me and you’ll be supporting.

- That’s ... that’s really kind, Mrs. Vargas. Thank you.

- Don’t thank me. Could you get me some honey from my dressing room? I’m feeling a bit strained.

- It’s 5 minutes until rehearsal starts.

- It’s okay, chorus normally doesn’t do much during rehearsal. Can you get it?

- Yeah, I think so.

She straightened her crinkled skirt, looking behind her back before going down the stairs which led down to the dressing rooms. This was good, right? Getting into one of the main star’s good graces besides she was right, the chorus didn’t really get much attention during rehearsals, at least not as much as the main characters. It’s easier to get away with screwing up in the back than in the front, her teacher would tell her which would always earn a few laughs from her colleagues. Yet, Y/N hated to make any mistakes. She would stay up all night in front of a cheap piano she had bought from a charity shop, playing and singing the same 5 note progression until her flatmate yelled at her to shut up. For her, if it wasn’t perfect and if she didn’t get any criticism while performing it, she hadn’t done it right. It didn’t matter at the end of the day but what did matter was to climb up the ladder. She didn’t want to be a star, all she wanted was to be able to be on that stage forever with the spotlight shining on her and she knew there was only one way to climb up. Actually there were two, extreme luck and connections. Now, she didn’t have the best of luck so her major choice was to make connections and reach that status.

She made her way into the principal dressing room. It was probably one of the biggest she had ever seen, with expensive decor and various flowers covering it. She wondered how many flowers she received on opening nights if that was the number she had on regular days. Y/N made her way to the desk, opening drawers and more drawers to find honey until she found it on the lowest drawn. She went down on her knees to grab it, mindless and careless to everything that was happening until she felt a sharp pain on the side of her her.

Then everything went dark.

TAGLIST: @lookiamtrying @buckyswillows @blossomslibrary @juliesland @iloveshawnieboi @unmagically

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sugar-petals · 3 years

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When I look at yuzuru he strikes me as a really soft cutesy charming etheral individual not really homme fatal kind of guy that's why I think he's pure romantic rather than TR what do u think? ( love you btw)

i’ve been thinking about it as well, but it’s not a crystal clear case. he’s a sportsman, skating morphs the body in the most uncommon ways which makes it harder to narrow down the type.

basics first so we get the foundations right: pinpointing the kibbe category he is + isn’t and why, the subtype after.

1. which one of the big 5?

- safe to say, yes: he’s somewhere in the romantic category. nobody does these outfits quite like yuzu. light fabrics, intricate embellishments, he is famous for all that gorgeous princely tailoring. the sport is all about the sequins, he definitely shines in them. every professional figure skating photographer out there will tell you that he hits different and you can see why.

WOW.

i’ve witnessed people complaining that the glitz and glam no longer suits his age, he gets scorn for not dressing traditionally masculine, but i don’t know how it wouldn’t look appropriate. the only valid criticism is that it’s often a hit or miss, but we’d be damned if this isn’t what an ice prince looks like.

he’s the best in the world and his main goal is to put on a show. rolling up in a polo shirt would contradict the objective, being an allround artist first and only then a jump technician. he’s exactly how you’d expect a yuzuru hanyu to look like. if you appear ‘like yourself’, it’s the right kibbe category.

R clothing typically has a sexy edge as well, you can’t put a kid into that. cut out cleavage, transparent, figure-hugging, no way. if anything, most R styles seemed all over the place when yuzu was younger (this is from 2010). yin is meant to be tailored for adults to begin with, you can’t make it teenage gamine.

eleven years later at 26, yuzuru hanyu in 2021, adult man, wearing the hell out of a skating gala outfit. this would be tacky on someone any younger. R is not just light and sweet but also dignified and mature. long story short. he’s grown into a yin-dominant type. fits to a T, a feast for the eye.

- meanwhile: you can easily exclude dramatic. very thick, stable fabrics with large lines are gigantic on him. D clothing is a yuzu charm killer, figures because it’s the type opposite to romantic (pure yang). it washes out the face and is twice as wide as his frame is, bulks out around the shoulders.

- not a natural type either, it feels a bit too simple, underchallenging. ruffled hair appears dishevelled where it’d be just right on a natural. it doesn’t fully highlight him: natural looks aren’t the most memorable on yuzuru even if they tend to be rather neutral and don’t look too off per se, it has a bit of draping after all.

he looks really good in the below outfit, but his frame doesn’t fill it out. he’s all elegant underneath and radiates ballet while N is a rough, easy-going, and leisurely concept for very bulky frames. the waist gets missing in translation, the mid-section of shirts like these is too wide.

- not a gamine either. he might appear like one and i deliberated back and forth whether he is Pure G or FG, but the material mix, line breaks, and fashion experiments are creating chaos rather than something put-together. it just isn’t as flattering as when he does drapes and florals. the hair being cropped (typical gamine cut) often obfuscates the face. G styles are confusing on yuzu.

his skating is from outer space but this is probably a bit too galactical 😅

- not a classic. something’s not right, suits like these contrast a lot with how round his face is and sit on his body very randomly. missing waist again (yin). the same people who want him to dress more conservatively/masculine have been roasting yuzu for looking like a salary man in that style 🤔 i sense hypocrisy. in any case, classic underwhelms, he’s made to dress up. more points to yin, he he’s too petite to wear C.

now, we got the main category down, time for subtyping. romantic has two options.

2. which romantic?

arguments in favor of Theatrical Romantic:

this type is what he often portrays in the rink (e.g. the phantom of the opera programme) and has become his secret weapon. whether that speaks of his true type is the question. what i mean is, he can pull it off, the seductive homme fatale. compare jimin, people lose their minds over theatrical romantic men. yuzu is in that lane as well.

as in, balance of main yin with a yang undercurrent — the very gentle, princely young man with the soft face who gathers everyone’s hearts, and he is a damn flirt on ice, but who can give a very visceral, dark performance. that shows a tremendous fervor and an edge, with an athletic and taut body.

he does have some yang elements to his physicality. streamlined silhouette, some narrowness, extreme flat muscle, long triangular upper body, some vertical line. also — his color palette (aka skin undertone, cool v warm, hue, chroma, deepness etc) might match TR. on the other hand, it might simply be the black hair giving him the contrast for it.

the reason why we might get the TR impression is that he often wears all black which suggests dramatic, and the athleticism in his profession has trained away the chubbiness he might naturally have. the face as the only part that won’t be somehow affected by his routine is all yin.

arguments in favor of pure Romantic:

... as you pointed out. in private life and backstage, he is quite effortlessly sweet- and small-looking. with the delicacy and doe-eyedness you’d expect from pure romantic, very unlike his performance persona.

if you didn’t know he’s copyrighted BDE on the ice, yuzu seems like he can’t harm a fly, round rosy bean he is. he makes a very innocent and soft 1st impression in candids which no other type except soft gamine does.

facial features, all opposite of yang. not long, not sharp, not planar, not angular, not bony, not narrow. the button nose, full lips, and puffy cheeks is all you see. you’d not think of him as striking (=D, FN).

that’s also why he’s always pitted as nathan chen’s opposite in whatever he does. nate is on the other end of the kibbe spectrum, people probably don’t even realize that their physical lines are contrasting archetypes. it’s subconsciously part of why people can construct such a rivalry.

study nathan’s face and it becomes apparent. very oblong shape, flat-laying flesh and an asymmetric jaw that couldn’t be any more prominent (=yang). the brows and eyes create a powerful horizontal unlike yuzu’s more wide-set puppy eyes. the nose is longer, the ears, too. nathan looks sharp, piercing, and intimidating rather than soft. you see the exact outline of the bone.

with him, you assume the reverse of what people think of yuzu at first glance. if you didn’t know that nathan couldn’t be any nerdier, you’d believe he’s 1000% jock-off-the-charts. how he has a lot of yang contributed to his on-ice image, too. one’s kibbe type can shape life choices since people see you in a certain way simply based on your lines.

how yuzu is such a visual difference to nathan further points to how he’s closer to pure yin: rather than a subtype that picks up elements from dramatic. otherwise, you’d see some of that angularity. but no: roundness over structure, you see the flesh, not frame. you couldn’t call him a jock by all means 😆

you won’t see that chiseled geometry and crazy jawline/browline. as you say he’s more cutesy, and a charmer, the whole fandom will agree. pure romantics have everyone wrapped around their fingers (and their booty lmao!) because you want to pepper them with kisses, yin types all look so non-threatening and beautiful. ethereal is the right word.

and they’re the sexiest ofc, since they’re curvy. R got hips.

sigh... this type is a showstopper. what to do with him. he can beam at ya or he can sway his hips at ya, another unsuspecting hanyu interessee falls for the guy. he does the prince concept and the sexy cutie alike.

he tries to convince us otherwise 😂

sexy aside, he looks great in the respective clothing recs, with waist emphasis and rounded edges. kimonos are often soft dramatic or natural-inspired, but it works out well this way. and again: romantic is not childish/playful clothing of some kind, it can be very official and deliberate.

rather than in edge tailoring which is very loose around his arms and does yuzu no justice. that’s actually the kind of clothing that makes him appear either younger or older depending on if it’s D or C.

TLDR - he might not seem completely yin in his appearance, but that’s because of his excessive sports regimen. since yuzu has been training since he was a kid, we never saw how he’d normally be. he rocks the pure romantic regardless and it’s likely it’s his kibbe type. him wearing R is always a spectacle.

bonus kibbe meme: yuzu, photoshopped to the moon and back, wearing soft dramatic for a toothpaste ad. amazing.

#kibbe #kibbe body types #yuzuru hanyu #kibbe types #figure skating #cub mail 🐆#anon #ask #long post #yuzuru hayu thread

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escapewithbts · 3 years

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The Best Surprise - All members (Yoongi focus)

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The hot sun of early June beat down on your cap covered head making beads of sweat form at your hairline. You lifted your hair from around the back of your neck, which had made you feel like you were wearing a scarf, to fan it with the program you were holding. It wasn’t even officially summer and already the heat was almost unbearable. However, you figured you also felt this way because you were nervous. It was your graduation from graduate school; after your 3 last years of school ever you were finally going to officially receive your master’s degree. And although that was a big deal, it wasn’t the only thing making you anxious.

“We aren’t just the class of 2021…” the valedictorian of your school spoke into the microphone at the podium on the stage in front of you and your fellow peers, “…we are the future.”

A classic speech, if not just a tad cheesy.

During the round of applause, you couldn’t help but turn around to get a better view of all the family members sitting behind the students. Through all the heads you couldn’t find your parents, or the one person you hoped would be sitting next to them. You stood up just a little bit, so not to garner too much attention to yourself, but quickly losing your balance and stumbling slightly onto the girl sitting next to you.

“Sorry, I’m sorry,” you mumbled.

Finally, you spotted your parents in the sea of people, glad to see their faces. But your happiness faded immediately when you noticed the chair next to them was indeed empty. Slumping back down in your seat, a feeling of sadness and disappointment washed over you.

“I’ll really, really try to make it, jagiya, okay? I want to be there. So badly. It’s just awful timing with the release of Butter and everything else, you know?”

You heard your boyfriend’s voice on the other end of the phone call.

“I know it is. It’s okay if you can’t be there, I promise.”

You heard him sigh.

“Still get me a ticket though, alright? To the ceremony.”

You couldn’t help but smile, a tinge of hope searing back into your heart.

“Okay, I will.”

That hope finally completely vanished when your eyes fell upon that seat meant for him. You maybe felt a little foolish for thinking he could make it. After all, he was halfway across the world, in the biggest (and busiest) band in the world right now. You wished so much he could be here. But you also understood why he couldn’t be.

“So, without further ado let us recognize each student from this year’s graduating class from the university’s School of Business!”

You and your fellow classmates began standing up row by row to walk across the stage and accept your diplomas from the dean who was calling out each name individually in alphabetical order.

Sooner or later it was almost your turn. You were standing at the base of the steps to the stage when your full name was called.

“(y/f/n (y/m/n) (y/l/n).”

As you ascended the stairs and shook hands with the professors in a line congratulating all the graduates you suddenly heard a loud yell from the crowd.

“YEAH, (y/n)!!! WOOO!!! YEAH!!”

You turned to find the source of the screaming, and when you saw it, your heart felt like it would burst out of your chest.

For there he was, standing at his seat that had been empty just moments ago, jumping up and down and pumping his fist. A few people stared at how loud he had been, but you were way too happy to feel embarrassed. When you made eye contact, he gave you a double thumbs up and a huge gummy smile. You gave him a little wave and grinned back, ear to ear.

After the ceremony was over you rushed to your feet and scrambled through the crowds of people. Your eyes scanned the grounds, your heart beating fast, your diploma gripped tightly in your hand, your other one holding down your graduation cap so it wouldn’t fall off your head.

Eventually you spotted him leaning against a large sycamore tree, one foot resting on its trunk. He was wearing a classic white button-down shirt, a black skinny tie, his hands in the pockets of his trousers and a black jacket that matched under his arm. You felt your heart skip a beat and you caught your breath in your throat.

He looked even more handsome than you remembered if that were possible. His black hair was tousled messily on his head, his milky white skin glowed in the sun, his eyes narrowed searching for you, too. You practically ran to him.

When he finally noticed you just a few feet away a huge smile appeared on his face, and he outstretched his arms. Without a hint of hesitation, you fell into his embrace, breathing in his familiar scent, feeling his familiar body against yours, running your hand through his soft locks. You felt like crying.

“Yoongi-ah-,” you breathed out, clutching the back of his shirt as if to make sure he was truly in front of you, and it wasn’t just your imagination.

He held you tightly against him.

“My (y/n) … I’m here…”

You let go slightly and took him in close up. You forgot how beautiful he was; how kind his eyes were, how cute his rounded nose was, how soft his thin pink lips looked. You pressed them to yours in a long overdue kiss.

“I’m so glad you made it,” you murmured to him when you broke apart.

He cupped your face in his large vein-y hand and rubbed your cheek with the pad of his thumb.

“I would never miss my jagiya’s graduation. Just look at you!” he stepped back to take you in as you giggled and twirled in your graduation outfit for him, “My babygirl has her master’s degree!”

He pulled you back to him and wrapped his arm around your lower back.

“I’m so proud of you, jagi.”

He smiled and kissed the tip of your nose.

“Thank you, Yoongi-ah.”

Then he held up his finger.

“Oh wait, one more thing.”

You cocked your head as he took the tassel that was coming out of your cap and moved it to the left side.

“There. Now it’s really official,” he looked at the ground shyly, “At least, I think that’s what you’re supposed to do? I’ve seen it in movies…”

You chuckled and wrapped your arms around the back of his neck.

“Yes, you’re so smart! And I am now officially official.”

You giggled and kissed him once more.

The two of you met back up with your parents (they had figured you wanted the time alone first) and they hugged you and said their congratulations. To your surprise, Yoongi had already asked if it were okay if just the two of you spent the afternoon together since he had something special planned. You promised your parents you both would meet back up with them for dinner. They kindly took your gown and cap for you, told you how proud they were of you and reassured you it was not a problem spending all the time you wanted with Yoongi.

“I hope you don’t mind if we have lunch at this Korean restaurant I found online,” Yoongi asked you as you hopped into the back seat of an uber.

You shook your head.

“Of course not, you know I love Korean food. It’s, like, 80% of the reason I decided to date you, I knew I would have it all the time,” you joked.

He rolled his eyes and poked your side gently making you squeal.

“Oh yeah? And what’s the other 20%?”

You made a look like you were thinking hard.

“Hmm well… I guess you’re kind of cute.”

Then you smiled and quickly pecked his lips before he could respond.

At last, the car pulled up outside the entrance of the restaurant and you and Yoongi walked inside hand and hand.

“Hello,” the host greeted with a smile, “table for two?”

“Um, actually, I have a reser-reservation I think it is called?” Yoongi hesitated with the English word briefly, “yes a reservation. Under ‘Min’, please.”

The host looked over the seating chart before finding his name.

“Ah yes, here we are, Mr. Min. I see you reserved the entire back room, yes?”

You glanced at Yoongi thinking it must be a mistake but he nodded his head.

“That’s right.”

The host smiled and beckoned you with her arm.

“Great! Follow me this way please!”

As you followed closely behind her towards the back of the restaurant you tugged Yoongi’s sleeve.

“Yoongs,” you whispered, “you didn’t have to reserve a whole room for us! I would have been fine at a regular table.”

He grinned back at you and wiggled his eyebrows up and down as you reached two closed sliding doors. He shrugged.

“There weren’t any tables big enough.”

You furrowed your eyebrows.

“Big enough for who exact- “

But with that the doors slid open, and six people jumped up from around the large table in the center of the room and yelled,

“SURPRISE!”

A gasp escaped from your lips and your hand went over your mouth in shock.

There before you were Yoongi’s bandmates, your six best friends: Jin, Namjoon, J-Hope, Jimin, Taehyung and Jungkook, all smiling at you.

Jimin was the first to come towards you.

“Congratulations, our (y/n)-ah!” He wrapped his arms around you in a huge hug, Taehyung soon joining on the other side.

“Congratulations, (y/n)!” Namjoon was next, kissing the top of your head.

Then J-Hope gave you a congratulations dance that made you giggle before embracing you in a hug.

Jungkook wrapped his arms around you and squeezed, making you lose your breath momentarily. Gosh, he was bigger and stronger than you remembered.

“Congratulations, (y/n)-ah.”

You smiled at the youngest.

“Thank you, Kookie.”

Last was the oldest. He strolled up to you and ruffled your hair. You tried to bat his hand away.

“We’re the only ones with two degrees now, (y/n)-ah,” he stated, smoothing down your hair he had messed up and giving it a pat, “Pretty sure that means we’re the smartest of the group.”

You heard Yoongi chuckled and Namjoon snort behind you.

You winked at Jin.

“You’ve always been the smartest of the group, Jinnie.”

It was his turn to snort. Then he smiled and pulled you into a warm hug.

With that, the doors reopened, and multiple waiters brought in plates and plates of food and set them on the table in front of you. Your mouth watered at the sight.

“Aish, what did you guys do, order the whole menu?” Yoongi asked as everyone took a seat.

“We had to, hyung, it’s a special occasion!” Jimin replied, already taking a large bite of the pork ribs.

Before you sat down you took Yoongi’s hand in yours and looked around the table at the seven most important people in your life, feeling happier than you had in while to have them all here together.

“Thank you, guys, so much for coming. I can’t believe you’re actually here. For me, nonetheless,” you chuckled bashfully, “It means the world to me. Thank you.”

They smiled adoringly up at you.

“Of course,” Namjoon spoke up, “We’d do anything for you, (y/n). And we’re really proud of you.”

Yoongi squeezed your hand gently as happy tears threatened to spill from your eyes.

“Yah, don’t cry, don’t cry!” Jin protested, making a silly face at you.

You giggled and sniffled, wiping under your eyes.

“Yeah, come on (y/n)-ah, you’re going to make everyone cry!” J-hope agreed.

You chuckled softly and muttered a quiet apology.

Jimin stood up and walked over to you. Then he pulled your chair out for you and placed his arm around your shoulders, gently pushing you to sit down.

“Eat,” he commanded with a smile, pointing to the heaps of food in front of you.

Yoongi handed you a bowl of rice and chopsticks before kissing your temple lightly. You quickly started to dig in.

“Now, then,” Namjoon said with a bite of half chewed noodles in his mouth, “let’s here all about the ceremony.”

Masterlist

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mastrmiscellaneous · 3 years

Text

Capture the Flag

Summary: Clara, Justin, and Lucille play Capture the Flag, and a secret is revealed.

Word Count: 7898

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The Peters siblings had only been in Camp for a week. Well, five days, but their friend Clara Ostá, an unclaimed girl the same age as Justin, kept saying a week so they eventually just went with it. They had learnt a lot in that time, about themselves, about their new friend, and about the world they lived in.

Justin had picked up Archery extremely quickly, shooting a full twelve arrow round and earning a full mark of 120, all bullseye hits. He had tried to learn how to use a sword, and though he was light on his feet, and was strong and accurate, it just felt unnatural. Especially when he watched Clara. She was basically a master already, easily taking on the best of the best in camp, even when they were much older than her. He had also started training one on one with Chiron, learning how to control his Plague Bearer powers. At first, he thought his powers were awesome, and he felt they made him feel incredibly powerful. However, he had quickly learnt that the exact opposite was true. His cabinmates were openly fearful of him, acting obviously careful around him and hesitating before asking him to participate in anything with them. That was certainly not the best feeling for the boy, but at least he had Clara and Lucille, they did not fear him. Although, his powers were getting stronger, and he was quick in learning how to control and direct them. Justin just kept to himself and practiced his favourite activities in camp.

Lucille was having an amazing time in camp now she had settled in with her new siblings. Her first night in the Hephaestus cabin was rough, being without a familiar face, and the noises of all the machines in the room scared her, but she was comforted by her eldest sibling, Beckendorf, who explained the intricacies of their cabin, and stayed awake by her side until she fell asleep. Lucille liked Beckendorf, he was kind and smart, he helped her in the forge, teaching her how to create machines and weapons, as well as assisting her with organising materials specifically for her. Since most of the tools and drawers were colour coded, and Lucille is unfortunately red-green colour-blind, the special organisation was greatly needed. She loved making things, and she was incredible at it.

Clara was enjoying having some closer friends at camp. She had to admit, she struggled making friends. Over the year she had stayed in camp, she had greatly struggled to get close to people, struggling with adapting to the English language when talking to other demigods, and just generally being awkward around people. She had never been good with people, being home schooled by her uncle back in Greece until she was seven, when her and her mother moved to the USA, where once again she struggled to make friends. She was not used to other kids, and she could not speak English at the time. Once she got to camp, it was much easier to talk to people, Chiron and Mr D being a great platform to have a proper conversation. They had some good alone time together, as she had private lessons with Chiron, Just like Justin.

English was a confusing concept for Clara. She struggled with understanding certain idioms, like the difference between a work week and full week. Her mother had never used those idioms, and her dyslexia made learning English quite the struggle for her, so certain things are much harder for her to wrap her head around than others.

One thing Clara could get her head around though was the concept of her favourite activity in Camp Half Blood: Capture the Flag!

Friday finally came, and Clara bounded out of the Hermes cabin and right over to Justin, who was tiredly emerging from the Apollo cabin, rubbing his eyes to get used to the bright summer morning.

“Kaliméra, Justin!” She half shouted as she jumped to a stop in front of her friend, smiling wide. Evidently, Justin was not used to this level of excitement, somehow, as he fell back in surprise, a very unmanly squeak escaping from his throat as he tripped over the bottom step.

“I’m gonna assume that means good morning.” Justin chuckled as he quickly got back up to his feet, with the help of an apologetic Clara. “What’s got you so happy?”

“You are really going to need to learn Greek at some point.” Clara elbowed Justin in his side, making him squirm. “But not right now! It’s capture the flag night!”

“It’s what now?”

“Michael hasn’t told you?!” Clara was utterly disgusted. How dare he not tell Justin about something so extremely important! Justin shook his head, and she went into a tirade of explaining the game to Justin as they walked to the mess hall for breakfast. Justin seemed quite confused at the whole thing, silently deciding he would ask his cabin mates (he’s still uncomfortable calling them his siblings) at breakfast. He was struggling to follow along with Clara’s explanation, as she kept going on unrelated tangents, and he was pretty sure she was speaking an odd mix of Greek and English, so definitely hard to follow. Eventually they got to the mess hall and parted ways, sitting at their own tables, Justin first heading over to the Hephaestus table to greet Lucille good morning.

-----------------

After Breakfast, Lucille came bounding over to Justin and Clara, who were standing at the base of the stairs leading up to the mess hall. Justin was asking more clear questions about the game tonight, now he fully understood what was happening. Lucille half tackled his brother into a strong hug. Despite the fact that the pair had only been at camp for a week, and that she was only 8 years old, she had grown much stronger from her lessons in the forge. The girl excitedly expressed her interest in the game tonight. The concept was fascinating to her, a mix of the classic game she plays in Phys Ed at school and the battles she heard of in history class. The excitement was overwhelming.

However, Justin’s excitement was depleting at the thought of his baby sister participating in a game as brutal as this, as it was described to him. He promised his mother he would protect her, but apparently he was way in over his head about that. Clara was not help, she just shrugged, explaining everyone took part, it was no big deal. Justin respectfully disagreed on that point.

The boy wanted clarity, so he marched along to the forge with the girls at his heals, with the clear aim of talking to the head of the Hephaestus cabin. He barged into the dark room, cluttered room, bumping into a girl around his age and quickly apologising. Lucille ran off to the end of the room to an oddly neat workbench, the tools organised by type, size, and fit, labelled with symbols that match a chart on the wall. The symbols and chart were clearly not written by Lucille, her handwriting was incredibly messy, and this person’s was quite neat and easy to read. As her companions marched over to her bench, she started fiddling with a device she had been working on, a matt bronze mess of metal and wires, vaguely shaped like the body of a bull, the size of a game controller.

“Lucille, where’s Beckendorf?” Justin asked his sister, but she was already deep in concentration.

“I’m right here.” Sounded the cheerful yet deep voice of the large, eldest child of Hephaestus. Justin turned to face him, relaxing at the comforting smile the cabin leader wore. “You got one hell of a sister here, Peters. She’s an amazing inventor, wonderful with tools! And her ability with magic, wow! Impressive for someone so young!”

The young man’s smile was so sincere, he was certainly incredibly proud of his little sister. He ruffled the girl’s hair, snapping her out of her trance, and she beamed up at him. Justin straightened up and puffed his chest out, making Clara chuckle. She muttered something about him being defensive over his sister. Justin just stood on her foot in retaliation. To be fair to her, his confidence tactic was useless in this case, as he was barely eyeline with the blacksmith’s shoulders.

“I know, Lucy has always been great with tools. You should see her in the shop back home! She’s better at the repairs than mom!” Justin bragged about his sister, making her beam and wiggle happily in her seat.

“I don’t doubt that.” Beckendorf said, glancing between the three with a warm, calculating smile. “What can I do for you?”

Justin suddenly remembered why he was in the forge in the first place.

“Yes! Right...” Justin gathered his thoughts and straightened back up. “I wanted to talk about Capture the Flag...”

“Worried she’ll be caught up in too much action?” Beckendorf crossed his arms and leant back on a cluttered workbench, shifting some miscellaneous tools. Justin nodded, pulling on the hem of his camp shirt. Beckendorf continued, “Understandable. The game can get pretty... intense... however! The Hephaestus cabin tends not to do too much face to face fighting. We make the tools for our team, make traps, that sort of thing.”

“She’ll be out of danger?”

“I’ll make sure of that. She’ll stay by my side. Not just because you’re asking, but because it’s her first game and she’s pretty young, I would also prefer she stays out of the action. For now, at least.”

He said that last part with a wink at Lucille and a smirk. He ruffled her hair once again, and wordlessly passed her a tool, a long and thin thing that looked like a screwdriver that buzzed like it flowed with electricity, which Lucille apparently needed because she immediately continued with her work.

“Well... that seems good then.” Justin immediately felt awkward. It was clear the Hephaestus cabin was very different to the Apollo cabin. These people clearly cared for each other, and protected each other. The Apollo kids, however? Ever since Justin had been told about his status as the Plague Bearer, his cabin mates seemed uncomfortable around him. Like they didn’t want to get close to him. “I can live with that.”

“Great! I’m glad you and Lucy are ok with that. I wouldn’t want to make either of you uncomfortable. You’re her brother too, I respect your opinion.” Gods, how is he this great?

The two talked for another couple minutes, as Clara moved to Lucille’s workbench and talked to her about what she was making. Lucille explained that Beckendorf was teaching her the basics of metalwork and electrics, so she can develop her pre-existing skills with tools and apply it to things like making weapons and armour, devices, anything her gigantic mind could think of. The young inventor clearly had no qualms about bragging, as she presented her draw of already finished products, some magical, some not.

“Beckendorf said I’m special! I can do magic stuff good, and really quick! Even he can’t do what I can!”

This kid has a lot going for her, as long as this level of support and ego was retained.

After a while, Justin and Clara left the two creators to their devices, Beckendorf saying he wanted Lucille to help him with some cool traps for the game tonight. That, and Clara was insisting on taking Justin around and helping him prepare for the game, insisting he was not ready enough. Justin was a little offended by that at first, but as soon as she pointed out he had only been there a few days, and even though he has a good power set, and a near perfect aim with a bow, his practice was minimal and head definitely not prepared for a battle, even a fake one.

Therefore, Clara took him to the arena, which was mostly empty. According to Clara, classes here would not be starting for another two hours, so they had time to tune Justin’s instincts. Now, since Justin did not have ADHD, he did not have the upper hand on a fast-paced battlefield like she did. It was clear Clara had spent years in camp, away from a proper school, because she did not see her Dyslexia and ADHD as something that was annoying or difficult, but as her greatest strength. Well, that, and her intellect. When on the battle field, Clara had the ego of Narcissus, and honestly? She deserved it. She had brought Justin to the arena to train with other weapons, explaining variety was always a strength. It will always improve something, be it your strength, agility, accuracy, or just improve your ability to take in your surroundings. Clara said that was the most important one. If you can take in your surroundings quickly, a plan can be formed just as quick, which is always important when your life is in danger of monsters.

First, Clara sowed Justin how to use a sword. She pulled her camp necklace from under her shirt. It was the same as everyone else’s necklaces, a simple leather chord with a single white clay bead with a golden fleece hanging from a pine tree daintily painted on, a smaller clay bead, more crudely made and only possessed by a couple people at camp, painted a dark blue with a silver bow. There were two other things on her necklace, personal belongings Clara was yet to explain to anyone. One object Justin recognised as a rune, a dark stone oval with chipped, rounded edges, and carved and painted silver in the centre was a symbol; a deep curved line at the top, with a circle in the curve, and a straight line in the middle under the circle, with two lines horizontal under the circle and curve in the middle of the rune, and finally a diagonal line at the end of the vertical line on the left side of the rune. The final object on the necklace was a celestial bronze bar, about an inch long. This is what Clara reached for, pulling it from it’s connector to the chord and spinning in through her fingers. A celestial bronze sword grew with a slash of orange light. It was a simple weapon, about 50cm long, one solid peace of metal, with a leaf shaped blade and a simple trapezoid shaped guard, and a rounded pommel. On the guard was a familiar shaped carving, the same owl design that was painted atop the door of the Athena cabin. It was truly a beautiful weapon.

Clara twirled the sword around as she wandered over to a wrack of weapons, carefully picking out another sword; a simple celestial bronze sword with a black leather grip, about a metre in length. She gestured for Justin to follow her to the centre of the arena and she handed him the second sword.

“So, I know you’ve been focusing on archery and controlling your powers, but having a variety of skills really helps. It means you can at least defend yourself when in a pinch.” She got into a ready position and gestured for him to copy. “Now, I just want you to defend yourself, don’t think about attacking me.”

“Wait, wha-”

Justin could not finish his sentence because Clara had already slashed out with her sword, which he parried clumsily. She may have the shorter weapon, but she sure knew how to use it. She moved with ease, flowing like a dance, but as quick as tornado’s wind. Justin tried to defend himself and get away from her. He jumped over abandoned chariots, stood behind weapon stores, climbed up and down the steps and seats of the arena, and rolled on the floor to avoid her expert attacks. His breath was quick, and heart racing. Justin felt hyper aware about his surroundings, taking in all obstacles and the slightest movements made by Clara, be it her eyes moving or a shift in footing. He felt aware, and felt alive.

Clara tripped Justin and he rolled over, landing on one knee. She slashed her sword down in a diagonal line, and Justin let his instincts take over. He slashed his sword in the opposite direction with all the force he could muster. The swords collided, bronze on bronze, sparks flying and forcing Clara’s hand backwards, making her stumble back a step. Justin leapt to his feet and held the point of his sword under her chin.

Both of them were breathing long, tired breaths. Clara smiled at Justin, proud of her student. Justin chuckled and dropped his sword away from her chin, pointing it at the floor.

“So,” Clara spun the sword and it shrank back to the one inch bar that she reattached to her necklace charm. “How do you feel?”

Justin thought for a second, still smiling. “Alive... Energised. That’s the most aware I’ve ever been in my life.”

“Good. Now, in a real battle, you should try and fight back, but this exercise develops consciousness. Being aware of your surroundings. What a true warrior needs to survive.”

“I can tell! That was,” Justin made a vague, excited gesture. “wow! How di you know all this stuff?”

Justin regretted asking that question as soon as the last word left his lips. Her proud, excited expression shifted quickly. She looked down at her feet, letting her long, dark hair fall in front of her face, and she fiddled with the rune on her necklace.

“My mama taught me...” Clara took Justin’s sword and wandered off to put it back on the wrack. Then, she walked over to the stands and sat down, slumped over and leaning her elbows on her thighs. Justin sat beside her and checked to see if she was ok. She instead explained what was wrong.

“I haven’t seen my mamá for a year know. We had some problems… Mamá is very similar to a demigod. Attracts monsters, has fought a lot. She has a duty to Olympus she will not rest on. She has a pretty rough past, too, so living with her is… hard. She has her issues. that, along with moving across the world to a place I didn’t speak the language, and my powers and increasingly growing monster attacks, it just got tense at home. One day, I got a letter from my father, telling me to come here. I felt bad at home, so I left.”

Clara sighed, her shoulders sagged, and she took in a long, shaky breath. She sat up straight, brushed her hair out of her face, and attempted to be subtle as she wiped tears away from her eyes and released her breath.

“She used to train with me. She’s the one who taught me how to fight, how to use a sword. Everything I know about the ancient world, the gods, monsters, I learnt from her. I just miss her is all…”

Justin could only sit there and listen. This was something he had never anticipated. Sure, he knew a good deal of the demigods here in camp either had no mortal parent or family, or just simply did not have a good relationship with their family. He expected Clara to be the same. Just, he did not expect this exact situation.

“She knows I’m safe. I’ve called her a couple times since coming here. Not often though.”

She sniffed and shifted in her seat, hugging her legs and resting her head on her knees. Justin had no idea of what to do. Emotions were not something he was good with. He could write them into a song, but comforting someone who wasn’t Lucille? It’s a stretch. He needed to learn how to do that. So he asked a question instead.

“You said she’s similar to a demigod. What’s that mean?”

Clara inhaled sharply, as if she had forgotten she said that and revealed something she shouldn’t have. She laughed awkwardly and looked at Justin, panicking to think of an excuse.

“Well, you know- you know how your mom can see through the mist? it’s basically like that!” Clara laughed awkwardly, voice higher pitched, and her accent flaring up strong.

“My mom is far from a demigod.” Justin said monotonously. “Impressive, sure. She also fought Mormo, but I would not compare her to a demigod. What’s really going on?”

Clara gulped deep, and sighed, once again fiddling with her necklace. She mumbled to herself in Greek. Justin caught the odd word, it sounded like she was cursing herself out because of her slip up. Finally, she looks at him again and explained.

“It’s complicated. you know I come from Athens, moved here when I was seven. My family is an ancient one, dating back in the record for a little under three thousand years. When the Romans started invading Greece, the gods feared for the safety of their secrets, and Lady Athena proposed a plan. Grant a family of mortals clear sight, give them her blessing, and a job to protect the secrets of Olympus, items of importance to the gods, titans, heroes, and monsters. Kinda like a librarian with access to weapons. That is what my mamá is. A Guardian of Athens, Kidemonás, champion of Athena. The job brought a lot of… issues for mamá. I am one too.”

All Justin could do was hum a sound that vaguely sounded like ‘woah’. That was certainly not something he expected. Clara panicked and continued.

“It’s supposed to be a secret. No one, not even demigods, know about the Guardians, or the Chambers we guard. it is too dangerous. you can not tell anyone about this! I should not even told you!”

“Ok!” Justin blurted out. “Ok, I won’t tell anyone. I promise. I swear on the Styx I won’t share this secret.”

Clara’s blue eyes went wide. she was shocked he would go to that length, as to swear on the Styx for her. It’s extreme, he could get hurt if her told. Suddenly, she launched at him and engulfed her in a tight hug, hiding her face in the crook of his neck.

“Thank you…”

“No problem. anything to make you feel safe.”

----------------

Soon enough, after Clara and Justin had continued their training for another two hours, fine tuning Justin’s instincts and physical abilities, practicing his war archery and quick shooting, lunch was going to be served and classes start up in the arena soon. So, the two friends excited the arena and went to their cabins to change their shirts and have a clean to rid themselves of sweat before eating. They finished up a little early and went to the forge to watch Lucille work.

They reached the forge and got a few non-serious glares from the children of Hephaestus. Justin was incredibly confused by this, but Clara explained it was because this week the Hephaestus Cabin was on the Red team for Capture the Flag, whilst the Hermes and Apollo Cabins were on the Blue team. They’re just playing around with a friendly rivalry.

Lucille was very eager to show off her work of the day. She and Beckendorf had made a crude wind-up bronze bull. The metal was awkward and scuffed, and the movements were very robotic, but it was incredible work for an eight-year-old. The four demigods got to talking, telling Justin and Lucille about the team system, each cabin’s general rolls in the game, and Beckendorf giving a purposefully vague description of what they were planning for the night. All Justin and Clara knew was they had some interesting toys to play with this evening.

It was not long before the horn announcing lunch sounded throughout the camp. They made their way to the mess hall, and Justin spent his lunch watching his friend and sister. Clara seemed pretty comfortable at the Hermes table. She knew a lot of people, she talked and laughed with them, though the sadness in her eyes left behind from the conversation about her mother never truly left. Lucille was incredibly happy with her table. She laughed and bounced in her seat, eagerly talking about whatever was on her mind with her siblings, and they all engaged well with her. He loved that she was happy.

Although Justin was happy for the girls in his life, he was also incredibly jealous. His cabin mates were not the most fun to be with. At least, they were with him. His power, his curse, scared them. As it should, Justin had been learning to control his power with Chiron, and the centaur had said he was incredibly powerful, more powerful than any Plague Bearer he had seen through the centuries. Justin did not mind his power, he thought it was pretty cool, as long as he can control it. The only thing he didn’t like was the fear and stigma from most people it brought.

After a long, quiet lunch, Justin met back up with Clara and Lucille for a quick chat before Lucille was swept away back to the forge to make devices for the game. Justin explained to Clara he would love to continue training, but he has a private lesson with Chiron now, but he offered to let her watch so she wasn’t alone. She accepted, and tagged along, Chiron in his full centaur glory leading the pair to a large opening in the woods, far from anyone else, the sounds of the camp distant and quiet.

Chiron was particularly sharp today, warning Justin that even though he has learnt quickly the past few days, he needed to make sure to control himself else he could seriously hurt someone. Chiron was pleased Clara had tagged along, asking if she would be ok with sparing with Justin so he could learn to keep his cool under attack. Clara agreed, removing her sword from its hidden form on her necklace, and Chiron handed Justin the bow he had been using and a quiver filled with celestial bronze arrows. They spared for a while, Chiron giving orders, telling Justin how to relax his muscles and mind whilst also keeping his guard up when being attacked. After an hour, Chiron stopped the fight and beckoned Clara to come close, and he bent down to whisper in her ear. Clara looked shocked at first, but smirked when she made eye contact with her friend.

“If you insist.” She said. The tone of her voice mixed with her accent made him shudder.

“Justin, we will be turning up the heat now. Clare will be using a… special power of hers to make the fight more intense.” Chiron nodded at the pair to get into sparing position. “Remember, stay relaxed, think clearly, keep your breath steady. Now, go.”

Justin nocked an arrow, and started to freak out when he looked up at Clara. Her normally icy blue eyes were now a silvery storm grey, a faint silvery blue glow encased her body, a little brighter around her right shoulder. she had a stormy, terrifying look to her. The contrast between her dark skin, the pale aura surrounding her, and the grey eyes was startling. Her playful smirk had disappeared, replaced by a tight straight lip, her eyebrows furrowed tight and her eyes in a fixed steel glare. It looked unnatural, her eyes usually darted about, taking in her surroundings, but the fixed eye contact she held now was unmoving. Her grip on her sword was so tight her knuckles paled, her muscles tensed. She charged.

Her speed was unmatched, and ferocity insane, and it was nothing like how she fought that morning. She was incredible then, but this? This was outstanding, terrifying, pure ability and skill. Justin struggled to keep up with her, his need to take an arrow from his quiver, nock it, pull back, aim, and loose was just too much to do when she was so quick and strong. His emotions and stress were flaring up, and Chiron could see it. He yelled to the boy to remain calm, keep steady, he can fight it, but Justin struggled to believe that. He was so new to this, and Clara was just too good. His stress was getting stronger and strong until finally…

He ran out of arrows.

Justin panicked, and instinct took over. He turned to Clara and caught her charging. He reached out and flexed his fingers. Clara stopped. Choked.

Justin had put her into a major coughing fit. A minor affliction, but enough to stop her surge. The glow of her power flickered and dimmed, eventually disappearing altogether, her eyes turning back to their normal ice blue. She dropped her sword, keeling over coughing, barely able to catch her breath between fits. Justin panicked, relaxing his hand and repeatedly muttering a sentence Chiron told him to repeat in times like this.

“Don’t hurt them, let them go.”

Clara finally stopped coughing, gasping for breath and dropping to her knees, panting heavily. Chiron trotted over to her and knelt down, placing a hand on her back and giving her a water bottle Justin could not figure out where he was keeping. She attempted to catch her breath, and sipped the water bottle for a couple minutes, and Justin just stood there, panicking. He really did not mean to hurt his friend, and he really hoped she would not hate him after this.

He almost jumped to the ground in front of her once he regained his composure. He worriedly checked on her and asked questions, making sure she was ok and knew he did not mean it. After a couple minutes, Clara regained her composure and smiled at Justin.

“Dude, that was awesome.”

“What?” Justin said, shocked.

“I knew Plague Bearers were powerful, but wow! That was rough! you can do better? So cool.”

Justin stared at her blankly for a moment and burst out laughing. “You are so weird.”

Clara shrugged and giggled to herself, “Yeah, but you like it!”

The pair laughed for a moment, ignoring the strange, confused stares Chiron was shooting them. Clara lightly coughed between laughs, but overall was recovering pretty well. Chiron dismissed the pair and told them to relax and regain themselves before Capture the Flag.

-------------------

Justin and Clara sat at a table in the middle of the horseshoe of cabins, a bit of a distance from the basketball court. They talked lightly as they regained their strength, Justin consistently apologising and making sure she was ok, which was met with a lot of eye rolling and insistence that she is ok. She’s a fighter, she’ll be fine. They remained like this until finally Justin gave in to his urge and finally asked what that power was.

Clara chuckled and reminded Justin of the conversation they had that morning about the Guardians of Athens, then went on to remind him Athena offered to bless the mortals set to protect the Chambers. That power was part of the blessing. It enhances her senses and abilities. Clara explained that it felt like time slowed down, so she could take in details of the battle field and react quicker. She explained that the blessing resided in a mark on her skin, a pale birth mark on the back of her right shoulder in the shape of an Athenian coin. A pale circle, with the same owl shape that was carved into her sword, above the owl to the right was an olive branch, and beside it on the edge of the circle the letters AOE on the left side. When she activated her blessing, it would glow a blueish silver, the blessing changed her eye colour to that of Athena herself, and the aura encased her body. She had learnt how to control it vaguely when she was with her mother, but Chiron and Mr D had given her private lessons on her family’s position and the powers she held. Well, her Guardianship was the main focus of her lessons, she was also taught how to control her other powers, the ones she inherited from her unknown father. She refused to tell Justin about them. He let it go.

-------------------

The games were finally beginning. Dinner was shorter than usual, the excited demigods eager to fight each other in the woods at night whilst also attempting to locate, steal, and escape with a long piece of red or blue cloth.

On the blue team, they had the Athena, Apollo, Hermes, and Demeter cabins. Justin was pleased her was on Clara’s team, she could explain things to him better than anyone in his cabin, at least. On the red team was the Ares, Hephaestus, Aphrodite, and Dionysus cabins.

Before the two teams separated and marched off to the woods, shouting war cries and praying for glory, everyone was given armour and weapons. Justin realised he would never get used to metal armour. He struggled with the straps on the shoulders, Clara having to fix it for him, so it did not hang off his body. She also adjusted the straps on his sides, muttering to herself that he had a lot to learn. Her armour was perfect, tight yet moveable, no hanging straps and just enough space between her body and armour to fit two fingers in. Absolutely perfect. Justin could not help but admire Clara’s perfection in this. She had clearly been doing this for a long time, everything came so easy to her. Though Justin could chalk this up to her connection with Athena (as he understood it, her whole thing was cleverness and being good in battle, so Justin guessed it would pass down to her kids, and by extension a Guardian like Clara), Justin chose to believe that she was just that good. She looked amazing too, her armour fit her perfectly, and not just because she knew how to wear it. In her usual clothes, like her camp shirts or the sweaters she wore, he could not really notice anything about her, except perhaps her toned bronze arms, that he definitely didn’t stare at, no way! However, in the armour, he could see her figure, as her armour fit perfectly around her. Her armour was clearly made for her, as she had a fortified shoulder guard on her left, and it was flexible around her body, partially leather, partially metal. Obviously, she still had a lot of developing to do, but she was already beautiful. Anyone could tell that she was going to be an absolute looker, mistakable for a daughter of Aphrodite, when she was older. It fit around her toned body nicely. She quickly tightened her armguards and pulled out her camp necklace before looking at Justin properly.

In short, the boy was a mess. Clara had to hold in a bit of laughter looking at him. his skinny, untrained form struggled to fit into any armour properly. This size fit the best, but still not great, as Justin was rather tall for his age, so the armour made for his height also provided room for some muscle, and the size down didn’t reach low enough to cover his whole torso, so there was no hope in finding anything perfect until he toned up a bit. Luckily, since he is an archer, he was allowed to wear mostly leather armour, so it didn’t look as bad as it would if it were metal. Especially when he put his quiver over his shoulder, that fit much better and tightened his leather vest. As she stepped back to look at her work, She did notice his awkward smile, and his drumming fingers on the riser of his bow, and acknowledged that behind the cluelessness and idiocy was a skilled and intelligent and cute guy. Not cute as in she liked him! cute like he’s a lost puppy. yes, that.

Lucille, on the other hand, was a hilarious sight to behold. They clear did not have armour small enough for her, so she remained helmetless, and her too-big chest plate hung off her body, Justin wondered how she would be quiet and sneaky with the amount it shifted when she moved, and she was moving a lot. Her excitement was showing incredibly, she bounced on her feet and had her gloved hands balled into fists, shaking them in front of her chest, her toothy smile beaming in the evening light. She stood beside Beckendorf, who had a sack slung over his shoulder, his other hand on her shoulder and talking to Clarisse, the Red Team’s leader as the head councillor of the Ares Cabin.

Finally, the two teams set off, dividing and heading off to their chosen base. The blue team headed to the North Woods, finally stopping about 50 yards away from the beech. The cabin leaders split off and gave out tasks. The Athena cabin was to split in half, team A moving along the forest line across the beech, and team B loop around the other end, towards Zeus’ Fist. That was apparently the most likely place for the Ares cabin to put their flag. The Apollo and Hermes Cabins were to combine and work together, splitting into groups of two, one from each cabin, and those groups would be split in half, team 1 being defence, and team 2 being sent straight ahead as a diversion attack. Finally, the Demeter cabin were to stay with the flag, using their plant manipulation to protect the prize.

Justin and Clara teamed up, and were sent away to the middle of the forest, adjacent to Zeus’ Fist and across the river. The two plant themselves hidden in a relatively thick section of the woods, sitting back-to-back, looking into two different clearings. They sat in silence for a while, listening and watching for movement, ready to battle despite the fact the game hadn’t officially been called to start yet. They still had a couple minutes for that. but they could never be careful, especially if someone else decided this was a good spot to hide. Finally, they heard the horn sound in the distance. The game begins.

Clara and Justin listened out for any sound coming close, Justin had an arrow knocked in preparation, a knife strapped to his side in case he needed a close combat weapon. Clara had drawn her heirloom sword, holding it close to her chest in hopes of hiding it in the bushes. Not soon after the horn blasted, the pair heard footsteps nearby their hiding spot. Well, Clara heard them and infirmed Justin. Her battle senses where a lot stronger than his. Whether that was a Guardian thing or something she inherited from her father, she wouldn’t know. Clara glared into the near distance, waiting for any sign of movement, Justin followed her gaze and readied his bow. He had a pretty good shot from where he was.

A positive: Clara was right, someone was indeed coming towards them.

A negative: ‘someone’ actually meant seven people. a small group compared to the entirety of the Red team, and Justin had never been too good at math, but he was pretty sure seven was more than two.

the team consisted of three Ares kids and two Hephaestus kids. Five strong and skilled demigods against one amazing swordsman and a novice archer. Sounds like a fair fight.

Clara quietly pulled out an arrow from Justin’s quiver, and pulled out a ball of strong from the gods only know where. she tied the end to underneath the flights of the arrow and looked at the path the Red Team demigods were walking on. She muttered to Justin,

“Shoot that log there.”

Justin complied, silently shooting at the log with the arrow she had modified. The team of five jumped a little at the sudden sound.

“What was that?”

“Who’s there?!”

“Come on guys, it was probably just a squirrel or something. it’s gone now, and do you see anyone? let’s just get this flag.”

And at that, the five walked in the direction of Justin’s arrow. Just when the five were two feet away, Clara pulled tight on the string, and the front two kids tripped, faceplanting the dirt. the other three readied their weapons and the tripped two attempted to get up, but Justin acted fast, quickly knocking and arrow and shooting at them, the arrow digging into the sleave of the first guy’s tshirt, pinning him to the ground. The other one got to his feet, but was only in a crouched position by the time Justin had knocked another arrow and loosed, catching his baggy shorts, and knocking him down. The other three locked onto the bush Justin and Clara were hiding in, and Clara took her chance. She charged, brandishing her sword, and attacked the three. Now, for any normal fighter, this would be a terrible decision. A suicide mission, in fact. But Clara is no normal fighter. once the three had realised what happened, Clara had tripped one, who rolled back onto their front and jumped back to their feet, but she had moved on to the next, quickly disarming him, then onto the third, who put up a good fight. The second guy, an Ares kid, picked his sword back up and charged, but Justin leapt out of the bush with an arrow knocked and quickly loosed, the arrow reaching its mark in the blade of the sword, pushing his arm to the side so he didn’t hit Clara. He charged to the guy Clara tripped, a Hephaestus kid, and kicked his back, pulling an arrow out of his quiver and stabbing it into the ground through his loose tshirt. The last Ares kid fighting Clara was putting up one hell of a fight, the two experienced warriors matching each other’s energy perfectly. That was, until the Ares kid tripped Clara. She rolled to the side, avoiding the blad that was stabbed into the ground, and when she landed on her feet, she smirked. Her ice blue eyes glowed a stormy grey, and her shoulder lit up under her fortified armour, the light quickly encasing her whole body.

Her Blessing of Athena.

The Ares kid looked panicked; he had clearly seen this before. Though his unearned confidence quickly returned, and he attacked, slashing his sword down on Clara, who parried with so much force, the kid was knocked backwards. Clara leapt to her feet, swinging her sword around to build momentum and beating down at the guy, who could only stumble backwards and block as many attacks as he could. Clara was far too fast and far stronger than this guy, and it showed. Far sooner than the Ares kid wanted, Clara disarmed him. Shooting his word into the trunk of a tree, she tripped him, slashed at his chest plate, knocking him with more force into the floor, and winding him horribly. Soon, the whole team was pinned to the ground, winded, or just given up. Clara laughed a little, looking down at her work, and acknowledging the arrows pinning people.

“We make a good team!” Clara said cockily, her eyes returning to normal, and her glow fading.

“Yeah. yeah, we do.” Justin said, a light blush filling his cheeks.

“Come on, let’s go find more groups.”

At that, the two ran away in the same direction, back towards their team’s flag, in a quest to find more people to fight. Justin was starting to see why Clara loved this so much. It was incredibly invigorating.

--------------

Clara and Justin truly were an amazing team. The managed to take down two more groups soon after their initial fight, using Clara’s blessing, her strange, mysterious powers inherited from her unknown father, and Justin’s insane accuracy and a limited version of his new powers. Somehow, Justin managed to control himself enough to just give his opponents a bit of vertigo, enough to make it easy to knock them down with a slight push, and they would not be getting up for a little while. The two were energised, ready for anything, and perfectly in sync. The two dashed off after their second battle and stopped in a small clearing to catch their breath.

“You’re doing good, Peters!” Clara panted smiling wide, her eyes now permanently grey her energy rises. “Improved a lot, you’re gonna be an amazing warrior after more training!”

“Thanks.” Justin said through deep breath and a wide smile. “You’re pretty awesome yourself.”

The two smiled softly at each other, but that smile dropped immediately when they both felt a metal clamp around their legs. The initial contact hit Justin’s left leg, and a split second after wrapping around his right. The opposite happened for Clara. The two saw a celestial bronze wire shoot up from the ankle clamps and attach to a branch on a tree, then shooting the two upwards and stopping quickly, leaving them hanging from the branch.

“What the-”

The two heard a familiar little giggle, and a more booming chuckle they recognised.

“You two walked right into our trap!” Beckendorf walked out of the shadows with a bouncing Lucille at his side.

“Lucy??” Justin exclaimed, slightly laughing along with his sister, impressed at her work.

“Caught you!” She exclaimed, pulling her tongue out at her big brother.

“Yeah, you did.” Justin Smiled at Lucille, then looked to Beckendorf, who had his arms crossed and looking between the girl and their captives, clearly proud. “Did you make these?”

“I helped! It was super cool!”

“She did really well.” Beckendorf said. “She’s an amazing worker.”

“Yeah, she is.”

“Hey!” Clara exclaimed, a little annoyed but mostly joking around with them. “Can you let us down?”

“Go on Lucy, what do we do if we let them down?” Beckendorf patted her shoulder and she looked up at him, reminding herself of the script she had been given. She stopped fighting and puffed her little chest out, trying to put on a serious face, but she was still so happy for succeeding, her serious face breaking into a smile.

“Only if you…” she paused for a moment, to think. “Surrender! and be our prisoner!”

“Oh, that’s the deal, huh?” Clara smiled. “Are you up for a compromise?”

“Depends on what it is.” Beckendorf shrugged.

“Let us go, you run off, we wait a minute before also making a move.”

“No deal. Looks like you’re gonna be swinging there for a while!” He said in a sing-song manner.

“Then what do you propose?”

“We let you go, but you betray your team and join us.”

“Yeah, I’m not gonna do that.”

Justin attempted to gulp; Clara was really screwing with their chance to escape. But just before Beckendorf could respond, three Red Team soldiers ran past holding the Blue flag.

“Looks like you’re going to be hanging there for a bit.” Beckendorf smiled cockily and chuckled. He turned to Lucille, “Hey Lucille, guard these two for me?”

Lucille nodded enthusiastically, and Beckendorf ran off shouting back to Lucille to remember how to release them.

“You do know how to release us, right?” Justin said, unsure.

Lucille just sat down, staring at her brother and friend, and needed, taking out a small remote and waving it in the air. “Just have to press one button… umm… I think this one?”

“Lucille!!”

#percy jackson oc #justin peters #clara osta #lucille peters #charles beckendorf #the abandoned trio

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yellowocaballero · 4 years

Text

Small Joke Story Bc I’m Not A Coward

“Everybody shut up, we only have three hours to detail the greatest conspiracy theory of our time,” Melanie said severely, uncapping her marker. Jon perked up. “You don’t get a fucking vote, Jon.”

“Why not?!”

“Because this is the greatest trick the devil ever pulled,” Tim said seriously, moving to stand on the other side of the whiteboard from Melanie and uncapping his own dry erase marker. “Convincing the world that he was from California.”

Everybody stared at Tim and Melanie, who were both wearing matching expressions of grave seriousness. Martin began kneading his forehead.

Under her breath, Sasha muttered, “Not this bullshit again.” At Basira’s flat look, she explained, “Every single solitary time Tim has a few margaritas too many at our favorite Tex-Mex place he goes on about this stupid theory he has. He’s been convinced since, like, our first month of working here.”

“I’ve been building evidence for years,” Tim said furiously.

“My Buzzfeed background has made me perfectly suited towards collecting evidence and making neatly formed lists,” Melanie said. She drew a T-chart on the whiteboard and wrote on either side ‘PROBABLY CALIFORNIAN’ and ‘DEFINITELY A BODY STEALING PURITAN GHOST FROM THE SALEM WITCH TRIALS’. “I reached the inevitable conclusion independently of Tim, and we worked together to put together this rhetorical argument. I know by the end of it all you’ll agree with us that Elias Bouchard is an evil ghost.”

Hm.

Martin slowly fed Jon another piece of fudge, knowing that this conversation was going to upset him.

TMA American AU, made as a result of four hours of increasingly inane text messages between myself and @lazuliquetzal. Every time we bring this show further from Britain it is brought further into the light.

Read the rest of it under the cut!

The timing had to be exact.

They had agreed to wait for the 55th Annual Historical Salem Convention to roll around. It was the closest thing they had to security while working at the Usher Foundation. After a while you really did get used to eyes constantly watching you, all the time, never feeling quite safe in your own skin, but it never really hurt to be careful. Especially when it came to Elias Bouchard.

Personally, Martin really didn’t see what the big deal was. Of course there was a mysterious, malevolent entity always watching you, judging you, finding you wanting, and finally condemning you to eternal suffering. God existed.

Still, it seemed to bug the others, so Martin bribed Rosie with a loaf of his trademark sausage and cheese loaf to let him know when Elias excitedly left for his favorite event of the year. When he got the text from Rosie, Martin stood up from his chair, cupped his hands around his mouth, and yelled at the top of his lungs, “Bouchard has flown the coop!”

On the turn of a dime, everyone stopped pretending to work. Tim threw down his pen, Melanie jumped up and ran to go wheel out the whiteboard, Basira tossed her book over her shoulder and pulled out her secret legal pad, Daisy logged off her favorite website GunShoppersUSA.com, Sasha spat out her chewing tobacco into the tin on her desk and put her boots back on the ground, and even Jon emerged from his office with a grim expression.

“It’s time,” Tim said grimly. “It’s time that we all find out the fuckin’ truth.”

“I keep on telling you, you’re over-reacting,” Jon insisted. He dug his hands in the pockets of his Harvard hoodie, scowling. Martin fastidiously arranged the plaque on his desk (“Your Life Is A Gift From God: What You Do With That Life Is Your Gift To Him”) as he imagined ripping it off him. Best not to be inappropriate during work hours. “Why put forth all the effort for such a stupid lie?”

“It’s hardly his first lie to us,” Basira said, seemingly bored and watching Jersey Shore on her phone. “He also lied about not being an omniscient serial killer.”

“This is different!” Tim said, slamming his fist on his desk and Melanie rolled the whiteboard in. “That’s a matter of common sense. Who wouldn’t lie about being a serial killer?”

“If I was a serial killer I wouldn’t lie about it,” Sasha said with a straight face. “I’m not a pussy.”

“I am a serial killer,” Daisy said, bored.

“You guys are fucking freaks,” Tim said.

“Jesus christ, just say y’all,” Sasha said, yet again. Martin nodded fastidiously.

“All’a youse be quiet,” Jon muttered. He walked forward and sat down in the chair next to Martin’s desk, which made him flush. Martin quietly pushed over his big candy bowl full of fudge, which Jon absently took and stuffed in his mouth seemingly without realizing it. “What’s alla this ‘bout, then?”

“Wow, he really must be tired,” Basira muttered to Daisy, who looked strongly as if she was pretending not to mark down whenever Jon’s hilarious accent jumped out.

“Why not?!”

Everybody stared at Tim and Melanie, who were both wearing matching expressions of grave seriousness. Martin began kneading his forehead.

“I’ve been building evidence for years,” Tim said furiously.

Hm.

Martin slowly fed Jon another piece of fudge, knowing that this conversation was going to upset him.

Sasha, from where she was sitting across from him, noticed the action. She smiled reassuringly at Martin. “Don’t worry. I kinda...I kinda get Tim about the Elias secretly being British thing, but there’s no way there’s any witchcraft going on here.”

“I just heavily disapprove of witchcraft,” Martin said haltingly. “And I really don’t think it’s something we should joke about -”

“We know,” everyone said.

“You tried to exorcise Jane Prentiss,” Tim pointed out.

“She was of the Devil! So sue me!”

“She was definitely of the Devil,” Sasha agreed. “I’ve seen hordes of insects that big plenty’a times, and they’re definitely Devil work. One time, I saw this spider the size of a dinner place eat a bird -”

“Shut up about the bird spider,” Jon screamed, “I am sick to death of the bird spider -”

“She was of Portland,” Basira said flatly.

“What’s the difference?” Daisy asked.

Basira fixed Daisy with a cold, beady stare. “Unless you want everyone in this room to know exactly what place you got in the Miss Kentucky County Fair Pageant -”

“Second,” Jon said, “it was humiliating.”

Daisy took out her hunting knife the size of her forearm, which Basira quickly wrestled from her, and it took another twenty seconds for Sasha to call the room to order. Martin stared longingly at the gun cabinet they kept in a corner of the room underneath a big pile of boxes, which everybody had a key to but Jon.

“Okay,” Tim said loudly, after the room had returned to relative order. Mostly through Martin feeding Jon the toffee fudge that kept his mouth glued shut for at least the next few hours. “To recap. Our evil boss, Elias Bouchard, is a well known douchebag asshole cuntface. He is gnarly as fuck. He is uncool.”

“Mfmf,” Jon said.

“No, it was pretty fresh how he framed you for murder. Let’s cover what we know of his background.” Tim rapped the whiteboard. “Pothead rich kid from San Diego. Now, everybody knows certain things about people from San Diego. Rich! White! Hipster! Dope on the waves. But not as dope as me. Really rockin’ zoos. San Diegoans are cool dudes who are great to hit a vape with.” He rapped the whiteboard again, much more empathetically. “Elias Bouchard is none of these things but rich and white!”

“That’s all you need,” Basira said flatly.

“Vaping is really bad for you, you know,” Martin said reproachfully.

Melanie took out her vape threateningly, making Sasha throw the stuffed alligator she kept on her desk at her to knock it out of her hands. “No sources of ignition in the archives, Mels!”

“Now, let’s go over my evidence,” Tim said loudly. “In the interest of fairness, I will list reasons that Elias may actually be from California.”

“Are we going to go over his means, motive, opportunity, anything?” Jon asked, seemingly bored, having finally swallowed his fudge.

Tim’s eyes locked in on Jon’s. Jon quailed. “I’m sorry,” Tim said pleasantly, “are we going to actually stop and wonder about why someone would, hypothetically, want to do something stupid before accusing them of it and, perhaps, stalking them to their homes?”

“Massachusetts isn’t a stand your ground state,” Daisy whispered to Jon. “We’re in coward territory, you can take him.”

“If you call the North coward territory one more time, Daisy -” Basira said threateningly.

“Anyway!” Melanie said loudly, as she wrote on the whiteboard. “It’s possible that he is from California because he’s rich and white.” She wrote down ‘privilege’ in big letters on the board. “However, as we know, there is rich ethnic diversity in California. Do you know where else rich and white people live? 17th century Puritan England.”

“I have a reason why Elias could be from California,” Sasha said seriously.

“You have the floor, hun,” Tim said.

“He’s an asshole.”

Melanie silently wrote down ‘ASSHOLE’.

“Pretentious,” Jon called.

“Big talk from the Brooklyn Boy,” Sasha called back. “Gentrified Gentleman! Colombia Copycat! Big Apple Asshole!”

“I oughta kill youse,” Jon hissed. “Disrespect the boroughs in my house again and I’ll show you how 84th street boys do it -”

“You and what square mileage?!”

Melanie, who was the most emotionally honest out of all of them, wrote down ‘PRETENTIOUS’ anyway.

“Now, let’s move onto the real arguments,” Tim said, clapping his hands to restore order. “Let’s review. Mels, make sure you get this down. One time, I saw him parking in December, and he drove well in the snow. He’s a natural at it.”

Silence bore down over the assembly. That was, by far and away, extremely incriminating. Californians couldn’t drive well in the snow if you held a gun to their head - Daisy had checked.

“Moreover,” Tim continued. “I tried sharing my korean-ecuadorian-french-thai fusion food truck take-out with him and he refused. Can a Californian refuse the siren call of food truck fusion cuisine?”

“That is suspicious,” Jon said grudgingly.

“Tim and I experimented,” Melanie volunteered, as she wrote down ‘EATS LIKE AN OLD PERSON’ on the whiteboard. “We tried cranking down the temperature in his office to - get this - sixty degrees. He didn’t even notice.”

“I haven’t heard him complain about winter once,” Tim pointed out.

“Winters in this infernal land fucking suck,” Sasha groused. “If it’s below 100 degrees it’s too fuckin cold.”

“Bood,” Daisy said.

“Agreed,” Martin said. “I had to figure out what snow chains are.”

“I can’t drive,” Jon said proudly. Martin patted his hand.

“Moreover!” Tim said. “I asked him his opinion on reality TV and he said that he didn’t watch it. I asked him what his favorite outdoors activity was and he said ice fishing. Every summer he goes to Maine with his shitty husband to go ice fishing. It’s bullshit.”

“Elias is gay?” Jon, Known Worst Gaydar In The Fucking World, said in surprise.

“Put that down in the pro-California column,” Daisy said. Melanie wrote down ‘GAY RIGHTS’ on the board.

“I hope you don’t let the fact that Elias is gay influence why you righteously hate him,” Melanie said to Martin seriously. “Gay rights are important, Martin. I believe this very strongly.”

“Aw, bless your heart,” said the guy who had been thrown out of his small Oklahoma town and excommunicated when he was eighteen. Not that anybody knew that. Martin didn’t believe in oversharing. Everyone took one look at the bolo tie and Precious Moments desktop calendar and assumed heterosexuality. What if he just liked bolo ties? What if Precious Moments was cute and sweet?

“Okay, back on topic,” Tim said, as if they had ever actually been on topic. “I have a finishing blow for all of you. This’ll blow your socks off. It’s really the coup d’tat. That’s a little something we say in California to show that we really got this sucker on lockdown. One time, Melanie saw him eating Taco Bell in the cafeteria -”

“ - and enjoying it,” Melanie said viciously. “Then I walked up to him and went, hey boss, what’s that you eating? And he said -”

“Just having some Mexican food,” Tim spat.

Everybody sat in silent observance of this crime.

Finally, Jon rubbed his chin and said, “I just don’t get it. Why would you pretend to be from California? It’s a mediocre state.”

“Say that to my SoCal beach bum face -”

“It’s to hide the fact that he’s the ghost of a 17th century Puritan witchfinder bodyhopping in order to feed his infernal god of paranoia and suspicion,” Melanie said, with a straight face.

Cautiously, Basira said, “And you got to that conclusion...how?”

“By using the investigative skills I learned at Buzzfeed,” Melanie scoffed. “Duh.”

But now Basira was actually looking thoughtful. “I mean, there is the fact that the Usher Foundation is built on a sacred Native burial ground and is precisely located on the ancient site where witches were sentenced to death, constructed using the wood from their holy pyres?”

Everybody thought hard about this.

“If he pretended to be from Florida I would have caught him out in a second,” Sasha said finally. “Man looks like he’s never seen a spider bigger than a saucer.”

“Shut up about the fuckin spiders -”

“I’ve seen the rats in NYC, they look like they could do my taxes -”

“That’s their prerogative, James!”

“I’d be able to call him out in a second if he pretended to be from Jersey City,” Basira said thoughtfully. “And, come to think of it, I have heard him call a trunk a ‘boot’ before.”

“I heard him call an elevator a lift once,” Daisy volunteered.

Everybody chewed over this new piece of information.

“God,” Sasha whispered, looking sick. “I can’t believe an English scum has been among us this entire time. It’s terrible. I never thought I’d be forced to interact with those fuckers.” She muttered something else under her breath in Spanish, which made Jon roll his eyes.

“You’re scared of Englishmen, of all things?”

“It’s their legs,” Sasha shivered. “Too many legs.”

Finally, Jon turned to Martin. “What do you think, Martin? You’ve been pretty quiet.”

Martin sighed. Martin carefully drank some of his world famous peach sweet tea. Martin took out his handkerchief and wiped his brow.

“Of course he’s a heckin’ seventh century puritan body hopping ghost,” Martin said finally. “I’ve known that for, say, since I was hired.”

Everybody stared at him.

“Why the fuck haven’t you mentioned that,” Daisy said flatly.

Martin shrugged. “Y’all done never asked.”

Jon took a second to gather himself, clearly two seconds away from flying into sheer Brooklyn Rage.

Thankfully, Melanie was squinting furiously at him. “What makes you say that?”

Martin just shrugged again. “So I was interviewin’ wit’ him, right? And I wanted ta make a good impression, so I just said, oh, the Lord provides for our meetin’ and all that. Then he said some Bible quote at me. Then I was like, oh, I can totally work this angle. Then I quoted the New Testament back at him, and I guess we got into a sorta competition? This happens in the South. But I ain’t never met someone who can out Bible quote me. So I figured, oh, he must be a body hopping evil Puritan ghost from the 17th century.”

Everybody stared at him.

“He called me a nice young God fearin’ boy,” Martin said. “Only Puritans and Southern Baptists do that, and he ain’t no member of my church. Plus, you know, when were fightin’ over him framing Jon for murder and how dangerous that was, he’s the only person I ever met who could use cherry picked Bible quotes as effectively as me in order to win an argument. So...really, it’s just logical.”

Slowly, Basira said, “You figured he was evil because he was an expert in your tactics?”

“Let he who is without sin cast the first stone,” Martin said wisely.

“Fuck this shit,” Jon said, standing up abruptly. He threw on his coat over his hoodie, frowning down at everyone from his unfair height. “I’m going down to the deli and getting me a pastrami on rye. Martin, c’mon, I’ll spot ya a Pabst.”

He had never been more in love. Martin shot upwards, throwing on his own coat and hat. “Alcohol is of the devil -”

“Just drink the beer, Martin.”

Well, there were some benefits in being excommunicated. Martin saluted everyone, eagerly linking his arm around Jon’s. “Saints keep all y’all! See you after lunch!”

“Honestly, Martin, just say youse.”

“I would really rather die.”

#the reason why sasha is alive is because she is from florida #in case it's not obvious in the story martin is from oklahoma tim is from socal melanie is from LA basira is from jersey #daisy is from kentucky and jon is a brooklyn boy #DONT @ ME WE ARE SOUTHERN AND CALIFORNIAN #the magnus archives #the magnus archives au #tma au #tw gun mention #TMA but if everyone knew how to shoot a gun #my writing #this is the fault of so many people

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naveenscrackwhore · 4 years

Text

Crumbling Down

Summary: All around the hospital rumors are being spread of how an Attending and Resident are in a relationship. Those rumors happen to be about Ethan Ramsey and Cecily Aldaine. What does this mean for the two of them? What will happen to them?

word count: 2014

A/N: hi! im sorta new to writing but ive been inspired by so many amazing writers to write this. i hope you all enjoy this! it took me a bit to get the confidence to post but should i make this a series? tell me in the comments below :)

Cecily blankly stared at her trembling hands, attempting to concentrate on Ethan’s voice. She could barely hear him though, no matter how hard she tried to focus. Soon, all she could hear was her own blood chaotically rushing all throughout her body and the sharp throbbing pain of her head. Her eyes became cloudy and her vision foggy. She felt her lips tremble along with her short legs. She became weaker and weaker by the moment, any moment now her legs will give up and she’d collapse to the floor with a thud. Cecily continued to breathe in and out. Shutting her eyes close, she counted with the beating of her heart. She sucked in a deep breath and exhaled out. One. She repeated it, her hands slowly started to shake less. Two. Again, she sucked in another breath and held it for a few moments before forcing it all out and quickly opened her eyes. Three. Cecily was finally back in reality.

She snapped her gaze back at Ethan, his tan, veiny hands grasped onto his brunette and faint grey streaked hair, his grip hard enough to rip out chunks of it. A nervous and frustrated habit of his. She observed the way his brows furrowed and two straight lines formed on top of it. His sky blue eyes shut tightly as he spoke frantically. Cecily could also notice the slight wrinkles forming at the corners. Her eyes followed his long leg when he continued to pace around the room, another nervous habit of his. Words were rushing out of his mouth and his voice was growing louder and louder,- a part of her was pretty sure, the whole hospital heard them. He opened his light blue eyes and their eyes met. His eyes boring into her deep green ones. It felt as if he was staring right through her skull, invading her privacy and seeing all of her secrets. Sometimes, she thought of him as a parasite or a disease manifesting through her. But that's not very romantic.

She felt something boil and rise in her. Cecily was always a friendly, nice person and she rarely was confrontational. Sure, she might be outgoing and ‘outrageously,’ enthusiastic and energetic most of the time. The woman always tried her best to never confront anyone unless she was extremely angry at them for a valid reason. She always hated arguments but she’s recently found herself to be in a lot more since she started her career at Edenbrook. Breaking out of her thoughts and her murderous glares, she stomped towards him and halted right in front of Ethan.

“Ethan, I don’t care about my career as much as I care about you!” Cecily passionately argued back at him, her fight or flight mode switching on. She was now close to him, her fingers aggressively poked at his chest as she looked up at him. “You never ask me what I want! This is exactly what happened last year in Miami! You always tell me how I should feel and ignore my feelings! You’re literally impossible!”

She huffed at her swooped bangs and stared him down. Raking her hand through her long blonde locks, she gave in. With a long sigh, Cecily's body lightly pressed against his as she cupped one side of his face with her hand while the other tucked the loose curl behind his ear. “I- I care about you Ethan more than you can ever imagine. I don’t care where I am at in five years if you’re not there with me.”

Ethan’s hands settled on the curve of her small back, supporting her from falling. They stared into each other's eye longingly as Ethan took a few moments to process what she said. He hesitantly leaned down as she stepped on her tippy toes, her freckled nose bumping with his.. Neither broke eye contact as their lips ever-so slightly brushed against each other. But before Cecily could even press her lips harder against his, Ethan pulled away and turned so she couldn’t see him drag his hand up his face.

“Ethan?” Cecily stepped closer to him, her hand gently touching his shoulder.” Are you oka-.”

The moment didn’t last long as Ethan whipped himself to face her, lightly smacking her hand away from him. She stared at him, her mouth slightly open and her eyes slightly more big. He drew in a breath as he growled, “Dr. Aldaine, I care about my career much more than I’ll ever care about you.”

Cecily paled, she didn’t move, she almost was frozen. She felt her mouth become and her hands became unsteady again. Her sea green eyes moved away from him as she glanced at his desk. Her heart dropped low to her stomach and it felt like she couldn’t breathe, again. She rested her hands on her neck as she anxiously rubbed it. Tears were threatening to spill but she resisted the sensation that eventually would take over. After what felt like an eternity, she tumbled through her words, “Oh, um.. Sick. Right, okay.”

“I’ll be on my way, I have to get some scans for my patient. Goodbye, Doctor. Ramsey.” She cleared her throat and made finger guns towards the door. She quickly darted out of his office and away from his sight. Her throat soon closed again andher walls crumbled down.

Cecily quickly turned the knob of the supply closet and collapsed. Her hands gripped onto the cracked walls and her nails scraped some of the paint off of it as she glanced up at the ceiling. Trying to keep the tears a float, she refused to cry,- at least not over him. She was breathing ragged, her arms moved to her chest and she clutched tightly on herself, attempting to hug herself.

‘It hurts so much.’ she thought, ‘why does it hurt so-.’

The door swung open and Bryce stood in front of it concerned. His brown eyes scanned her, trying to comprehend why she was on the edge of a mental breakdown. He stood still for a while, not completely sure of what to do with Cecily. Bryce couldn’t recall if he ever saw her cry this much. The moment, they made eye contact. She rubbed her nose with the sleeve of her lab coat and sniffled.

“Bryce, don’t just stand there! Get in or get out!” she cried, throwing an ivy bag at him.

Bryce gave her a sad smile, remembering their first day at Edenbrook. She said that exact same thing to him as she did a year ago. He silently closed the door with a click as he slowly walked towards her, sliding down the wall. His long, toned arm wrapped around her shoulder, pulling her closer to him. He rested his chin on Cecily’s head, keeping her close and tight. He rubbed soothing, circular motions around her back, whispering reassuring words in her ear.

After a few minutes of her hyperventilating, she was finally stable and not crying. All he could hear was small sniffles and breathing steading. His arms still had her in a cocoon, protecting her with all he had. Bryce hated to see Cecily cry. They’ve been best friends since last year and were completely inseparable. They relied on one another, a lot. And when one was upset or in pain the other was there for them. He always joked that the best should always stick together but he really meant it, in some egotistical, cocky way. Bryce swears on his looks that he’d always be there for her, no matter what.

Bryce’s fingers nimbly turned her head to face him, his thumb pressed softly against her chin. His eyes softened even more as he could see her nose was pinker than Azaleas. He comfortingly asked what happened to make her cry so much.

Almost immediately, her chin started to wobble and her eyes began to water again. Cecily bit her lip, hard, trying to stop her cries but it failed, miserably. A metallic taste lingered on her tongue as she shoved her head into his chest. Through incoherent sobs, she cried, “I- I don’t wanna talk about it.”

He massaged her shoulders and he pressed a tender kiss to her forehead, “Okay, we don’t have to, if you don’t want to.”

They stayed like that for a long time before Bryce finally stood up and offered her a hand. Cecily hesitantly took it, letting him pull her off her feet. A small giggle left her lips as she crashed into him. He laughed along with her, too. They quietly walked out of the supply closet, not bothered by the stares of their coworkers. At least, Bryce wasn’t. Cecily was though. She felt a burning sensation through her head, she knew whose eyes were on her and she felt dirty and ashamed. Cecily felt her cheeks flush a bright red as she attempted to concentrate on Bryce.

“Hey, at least, you don’t have make up on today.” he gave her a grin, “Right?”

Cecily snorted dryly, “Yeah, I guess so.” She bit her lip, lightly before hugging him again. Resting, her head on his chest, her small arms wrapped around his torso.

“You’re welcome, Barbie.” Bryce cockily mocked before winking at her, before strutting off to the surgical floor.

“Whatever Ken!” she called out after him, walking towards the nurses station, picking up one of her patient’s charts and continuing the rest of her long shift.

After the long hours of skillfully diagnosing and discharging patients,- and maybe avoiding a certain attending,- her day was finally over. Cecily could go home and sulk whilst eating a tub of strawberry ice cream or she can get drunk at Donahues. The ideas both seemed to fit well with her if she was being honest but she already made plans with the others for Donahues. She slipped on a pair of light blue sweats and a white crop. Staring at the mirror, she pulled her matching bandana and swiftly pulled her out of her face and poked at strands to frame her features. Cecily gnawed at her bottom lips as she remembered the occurring events with Ethan with a shake of her head and a sigh, she stumbled out of the changing room, shoving her professional clothes and heels in her locker. Frankly, she didn’t feel like bringing them home, she was just lazy.

Sienna awaited near the entrance along with Jackie, Bryce and Elijah. All talking amongst themselves excitedly and were full of banter. Bryce and Jackie continued making witty comments at each other as Sienna and Elijah spoke of their interns, Sothy and Mitch. Cecily finally met up with them. She shared a bright, teasing smile and placed her small, pale hand on her hip. “Ready to start drinking lightweights or are you not up for it?”

“That’s some big talk coming from a moppy drunk who can barely handle two shots of tequila,” Jackie quipped back at Cecily, her leathered arm swung over Cecily’s shoulder. Her big brown eyes sparked with a flare, the usual teasing flare, Jackie always had. She smirked, pridefully at her as Cecily shooed her away and elbows her side.

“Leave her alone, Jackie,” Elijah grinned, “Cecily’s only 24, there’s a lot of time for her to become and train for drinking.”

“I-,” Cecily groaned, she stared at the high ceiling, covering her face with her arms, “ Ugh! It was one time! And,- and I already had half a bottle of scotch! You can’t blame me!”

The pair of residents strolled out of Edenbrook with lopsided grins. Screams of boisterous laughter and just yelling,- in general came from their direction. All of them butting heads and sizing the other one up. They staggered into each other, resulting in Bryce to fall flat on his behind which made Jackie make a remark and the others snickering. The five of them finally were there and were ready to venture into Donahues and forget anything that happened today with burning, refreshing liquid.

hope you enjoyed! would anyone want me to make a taglist?

#ethan ramsey #open heart #bryce lahela #choices stories we play #pixelberry #choices #ethan x mc #ethan ramsey x mc #angst #doctor romance #dr. ethan ramsey #dr. ethan ramsey x mc

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bgn846 · 4 years

Text

Satum Novum Chapter 3: The Hunt FFXV Gladnis

<Previous Chapter 2

Prompto stared out into the vastness of the sea. They’d left Altissia hours ago, and had plotted a course for a random no named island. The blond was piloting the boat since Gladio was otherwise engaged. He could also feel the beginnings of a headache threatening to overtake him. Their current course of action had taken quite a bit of discussion and planning to craft.

They’d all sat in the common room for almost two hours, trying to decipher the coded message from the radio. Prompto had never been involved in such a deep conversation in his life. The history of the Eos was raked back and forth and then some. Ancient battles and prophesies about salvation were dissected for hidden meanings.

They were looking for the exact location of where the savior of Eos had come, some five hundred years ago. Scholars had been debating that for centuries, and here they’d been trying to crack it in a few hours. How the bad guys had figured it out was a mystery, or perhaps they too had it wrong. The whole idea was like trying to find a needle in a haystack.

Surprisingly between the lot of them, they’d been able to create a list of possible locations. Four areas had been flagged and they were enroute to the first one. Taking a glance behind him Prompto checked on Ignis, he was bundled up in a blanket and passed out on the bench seat. Gladio was sitting next to him with his nose buried in a book, and his free arm slung over Ignis’ shoulder. Prompto tried to crane his neck better to double check, but it also looked like Ignis’ head was actually resting in Gladio’s lap.

Interesting, the blond was going to have to ask his friend about that move later.

Earlier Ignis had gotten very excited about their plan, and had rushed to stand when they’d finished plotting a course. However, his body had reached its limits and he’d literally passed out mid step. Gladio had been close enough to catch him but it was still hard to see. The poor guy was pushing himself to try and save his friend. Prompto still didn’t quite understand why Gladio hadn’t taken Ignis back to a cabin. The beds were comfy and the man needed rest. His friend had merely stated that if Ignis woke up, he’d be desperate to know where they were. This way he’d get an answer right away and perhaps rest easier.

The blond could never figure out why Gladio viewed things in a different light sometimes. He knew he’d been through special training as a teenager, and he was scarily smart when it mattered. Though the big guy wasn’t great with complicated technology, he still appreciated it.

They were about thirty minutes from their destination. Prompto hoped they were on the right track, if they didn’t find the prince in time he might die. A sudden noise caused the blond to turn again quickly. Ignis had woken up and was sitting up blinking owlishly at him.

He was still shirtless, and the blanket that had been wrapped around his lean shoulders had fallen off slightly. “What’s happened?” He rasped.

“We are close to the first stop Ignis.” Prompto offered.

Ignis simply sighed and went to swing his legs onto the floor. “We must get ready.”

Gladio reached out and stopped Ignis from standing. “Take it slowly, you still haven’t recovered from earlier.”

The advisor seemed to listen this time and stayed seated. Instead he gathered the blanket up over his shoulders again and leaned back into the bench. “What is the plan of attack?”

“We need to find a place to dock the boat, and then we can go up on shore and check things out.” Gladio announced as he put his book away.

Prompto turned back around and kept the boat on course. After ten minutes he could see an island ahead. “I think I see it.” He exclaimed.

“Good let’s see if there is place to drop anchor.” Gladio added.

Twenty five minutes later, and it appeared that the horrible little patch of rock in the middle of the sea had no harbor. They would have no choice but to drop the small dingy on board and approach that way. However, when Gladio started reviewing the navigation map he realized there was one other way.

“There is one spot that is pretty close to the shore, Prompto if you can navigate the boat there.” He pointed on the chart. “I can jump over and swim ashore. That way I could scout the place quickly to see if the prince is there. We are under a deadline and I want to make sure we don’t waste time.” He replied.

“What if you get attacked, we can’t help you.” Ignis added.

“We’ve circled this island twice already, and I’ve not seen a single footprint or sign of life on the beach. I don’t think this is the place. Let me swim ashore and check, it’ll save time, trust me.” Gladio urged.

Prompto could tell Ignis was struggling with the decision. “Fine, but how will we know if you are in trouble or not?”

“That’s easy, I don’t come back.” The taller man added dryly. “I’m taking my hunting knife and I’ll take a flare as well. I’ll set it off if I run into trouble. Is that acceptable?”

The advisor sat and pondered for a minute. “Yes, I suppose that will do. I can come with --.”

“NO.” Gladio spit out. “You need to take it easy, your body isn’t fully healed yet. Stay here with Prom and I’ll go scout the place.”

The discussion ended, and Prompto worked to maneuver the boat close to the shore without hitting the reef and rocks nearby. He dropped anchor and they all went out on the stern of the boat. Surprisingly Ignis allowed Gladio to gently push him down by the shoulders, so he was sitting cross legged on the deck.

“Seriously, don’t get up until I get back, I’m not sure Prompto’s strong enough to fish you outta the water if you fall in.” Gladio chided.

Prompto watched as Gladio took off his shirt and shoes and climbed over the railing. He left a rope out hanging over the side, so he could climb back up when he returned. With a nod he jumped in and surfaced a moment later. The blond sat down next to Ignis and watched his friend swim towards shore.

“Do you think he’ll be alright?” Ignis asked worriedly.

Turning to face the other man Prompto smiled. “Yeah, he’ll be okay. He knows how to stay out of trouble.” Ignis didn’t respond but nodded, as he continued to watch Gladio’s form swim towards the beach. The blond could see the bags under Ignis’ eyes, he really needed rest. The fact that he didn’t put up a fight, when Gladio forced him to sit, was telling.

Within a few minutes Prompto could see Gladio wading up the beach. He had his knife out and was walking cautiously. They watched him comb the beach, and then disappear on the other side of the island.

“How far is the next island?” Ignis asked quietly. “I’m loath to admit it, but I do agree that this place seems rather uninhabited.”

“It should be another forty minutes to an hour depending on the current.” He offered. “Don’t worry we’ll find your friend. I’m sure of it.”

Ignis stayed quiet and focused his gaze on the island, waiting for Gladio to reappear. Soon enough his hulking from could be seen through the vegetation. Once he was on the beach, he put his knife away and walked into the sea again. That must have meant he didn’t find anything.

It took another few minutes for Gladio to swim back to the boat. Once he’d grabbed hold of the rope dangling in the water he yelled instructions. “Prompto, haul up the anchor and let’s get out of here.”

He nodded and ran off to go get things prepped. Guess there was nothing on the island. What if the next stop didn’t have anyone or any clues either? Things were looking a little grim.

Gladio gripped the rope and pulled himself up. Ignis was sitting and waiting for him at the top with a discouraged look. Before he could say anything the advisor spoke up. “What if he’s dead? What if I’m too late?”

“You can’t live life based off ‘what ifs’ and I know you’re already aware of that. You’re a smart guy.” Gladio huffed in between breaths as he coiled the rope up.

“I wish I could help more.”

“We aren’t sure what we will encounter when we find him, so resting again would be helpful.”

Ignis cracked a wry smile. “Fine, but is there any chance I could get a shirt to wear?”

“Don’t like going around shirtless?” Gladio asked with a quirked eyebrow. “It’s really comfy.”

“That, it is, but I don’t like being cold.”

Gladio went to respond, but he took a minute to really look at Ignis. The man was still clutching the blanket around his shoulders and looked worn out. “I’ll have Prompto find you something; my selection is mostly t-shirts and tank tops. I don’t think you normally wear that type of clothing do you?”

Ignis shook his head and made to stand up. Gladio helped him up, and hovered behind while they walked back to the bridge. Prompto was almost done navigating the boat away from the rocks and reef. The blond looked over for confirmation that they were good to go, and Gladio nodded his approval.

“Hey kiddo, do you think you might have a dress shirt that would fit Ignis?”

“Huh?” Prompto furrowed his brows turning to look at the pair. “I mean it might fit, Ignis has broader shoulders than me but it’s better than your nonexistent wardrobe.”

“This is what I put up with on a regular basis Ignis.” Gladio deadpanned.

“Come on lets go check out my stash of stuff.” Prompto enthused as he escorted Ignis towards his cabin.

“Take a freaking nap while your down there, I’m good up here.” He shouted, hoping the man would take his advice.

Gladio wasn’t sure what had transpired when neither of them came back upstairs after ten minutes. Good, maybe Ignis had laid down to rest. Hoping the next destination would have more clues than the last, Gladio steered the ship towards location number two.

After about thirty minutes he could see two arch shaped spires sticking up out of the Eos. The coordinates matched his map, this must be the place. Using the intercom Gladio called down to the other men.

It only took a few minutes for Prompto and Ignis to return. The advisor looked slightly better; maybe he’d taken a nap. He was wearing a nice clean white dress shirt. It fit him fairly well, considering that Prompto was shorter and not as broad shouldered. The sleeves were rolled up, either for comfort or because they were too short. Gladio didn’t ask but pointed to the island instead.

“Do you think there will be a place to harbor the boat?” Ignis asked quickly.

“Not sure yet, but we can hope.”

“Look! Look --.” Prompto yelped as he bolted out of the bridge. “There’s oil in the water over there. Do you think a ships been here recently?” he shouted from outside.

“That’s not an exact science.” Gladio yelled back.

As they approached, Prompto quickly started gesturing towards a place to dock the boat. It was a rock outcropping that featured a carved pair of steps. This place had been inhabited at some point.

“I’m coming with you this time.” Ignis announced. “Before you cast an opinion, I did take a short nap. Prompto stayed with me so you can ask him, if you don’t believe me.”

“Hey now, it’s not that I wouldn’t believe you, I just know you’re pushing yourself to hard. If there is trouble when we land, please try and let me help.”

“I’ll keep it in mind.” Ignis replied calmly.

However, Gladio could tell the advisor was struggling to keep his emotions in check. They needed to find the prince, time was running out. “Prompto, have you found a way to secure the boat?” He ventured as he watched the young man peer over the railing.

Prompto came running back inside a moment later. “There is a cleat but I can’t reach it. You might be able to, otherwise we can drop anchor and row over.”

“I’ll have a look, hold on.” Thankfully Gladio’s longer arms enabled him to reach the cleat. It was a weathered and beaten thing. He was surprised it was still holding fast to the rock, it looked to be centuries old. Grabbing the rope Prompto had left in position he secured the boat. The blond had already thrown over the rubber buoys, so the boat wouldn’t scrape the ancient dock. Next he lowered the walkway, Prompto and Ignis were already there waiting to cross. “Prompto did you do that thing we do sometimes?” He asked.

“Yeah, I did, we are good.” He chirped.

Ignis looked at the two of them oddly, but didn’t say anything. He merely motioned for Gladio to go first. He could feel his heart hammering away as they crossed to the stone dock. If someone had been there recently, they’d not left any signs.

There was a narrow path that led from the harbor to the beach. They were forced to go single file as they moved forward.

“Should we call his name?” Prompto whispered from the back. “Are we the only ones here?”

“I would advise against it at this time.” Ignis answered.

They continued on in silence until the path split. The right stayed on the beach; the left continued up more stone carved steps, and turned a corner. Gladio went first and had his knife out just in case. Manmade features began appearing as they ascended. Symbols representing the six were everywhere. This place was definitely sacred.

After climbing for another few minutes they finally reached the top of the path. The view changed drastically. It was like a giant had come and moved stones about. Prompto was the first to lose his composure.

“Holy shit!” He squealed and then promptly clamped his hands over his mouth. “Sorry.” He mumbled a second later.

Gladio couldn’t blame him. The sight that had greeted them was giant gold staves thrust into the ground. These were surrounding a rock outcropping in the center.

“I see an entrance with more stairs.” Ignis uttered quickly. “We must check in there.”

The three ran across the grass field towards the opening in the rock face. Looking in revealed a steep pair of stairs going up. Gladio didn’t wait and bounded up the stairs, that’s when he heard a voice yelling for help. The shouting was getting more frantic as he neared the top. However, his view was obstructed until he’d cleared the stairwell completely.

A dark haired youth appeared before him a second later, chained up by his wrists and standing on a wooden crate. “I gotcha highness.” Gladio exclaimed as he ran forward. However, due to the excitement of it all, the prince moved too quickly and toppled the box under his feet. It went sideways and the youth’s full weight was suddenly on his wrists. Throwing his head back he cried out in pain.

Thinking quickly Gladio lifted the prince up; grabbing the youth’s thighs and resting the weight on his broad shoulder. The younger man gasped in relief and started to list backwards. Grabbing a fist full of his shirt, Gladio managed to keep him in place. He could feel the poor kid shaking from the adrenaline rush.

“Help me!” The prince begged. “Please – I --.” He stopped midsentence when he finally saw Ignis and immediately went hysterical. “I – I thought – you -- you were dead!” He sputtered in between sobs.

Ignis and Prompto worked as fast as they could to release the restraints around the prince’s wrists. “Noct it’s alright, you’re safe.” Ignis breathed out in a rush. “I’m okay, try and calm down, everything will be alright.”

“But they said –they said -- you fell overboard!” He managed through his tears.

“It doesn’t matter right now, we need to get you looked after.” Ignis replied worriedly.

It didn’t take long before the prince was free of the chains. Gladio chose to carefully resituate the youth in his arms so he could carry him. This move elicited a reaction.

“I – I can walk.” He whimpered, though with tears still streaming down his pale face, Gladio didn’t think it was a very believable statement.

“I know you can, but I figured you might want a change of scenery first.” He ventured. The prince sucked back a sob and relaxed slightly in his hold. The youth nodded and looked over at Ignis who had come to stand next to Gladio.

The advisor’s eyes were watery, as he checked on his prince. Gladio could see his green eyes roving around looking for injuries. Ignis paused on the odd contraption around the prince’s neck but didn’t directly ask about it. “We have some potions available if you’re in pain.” He offered instead.

“Yes, please.” He pleaded.

Gladio interrupted before Ignis could respond. “There is a small knoll outside the entrance, we can rest there for now.”

The sunlight was warm and reassuring as they exited the sacred place. Gladio walked over to the grass covered spot and placed the prince on the ground. He winced as soon as Gladio moved his arms away. “Sorry, did I hurt you?!” Gladio exclaimed.

The prince shook his head and curled up on his side. “My back hurts from standing for so long.” He groaned. “Iggy?” The youth questioned. “Help.”

Ignis was there a second later tugging the dark haired man into his arms. “Gladio, may I have a potion please.”

Gladio looked to Prompto, and motioned for the kid to hand over the messenger bag he’d been carrying. The blond complied and scooted closer to them. “Here ya go.”

This simple transaction caught the prince’s attention. “My magic is sealed right now. So where did you get a potion?” He asked looking up at Ignis.

“Sealed? How?” Ignis asked with worry.

“This thing.” The youth lamented, pointing to the collar around his neck.

Prompto spoke up first. “Oh, I might be able to remove it, if you let me take a look.”

The prince looked right at the blond and blinked a few times. “Drautos said it could shock me, so be careful okay.”

“Promise, I won’t hurt you.” Prompto swore eagerly as he crawled over.

Ignis maintained his death grip on the prince as Prompto examined the collar.

Gladio took the opportunity to fish out a potion and handed it to Ignis. The advisor helped the prince to break it, and the youth sighed heavily once the magic had taken effect.

“Um – highness.” Prompto cautiously interrupted. “I need you to turn to the left for me.”

“Mmm – you both can call me Noct.” He responded weakly.

Prompto looked to Ignis for approval before he spoke again. “Ok Noct, I’m gonna pop the little panel open on the side and take a look. Let me know if you need me to stop.” Noct nodded and closed his eyes.

The blond worked in silence as he carefully examined the collar. After about ten minutes he looked up with a smile. “I can remove it, but you have to help me Gladdy.”

“Whoa! Wait.” Noct exclaimed hoarsely after forcing his eyes open. “As in Iris’ big brother?”

“Yep that’s me.” Gladio admitted.

“Guess that explains the tattoo.” Noct breathed, as he reached out a trembling hand to touch Gladio’s arm. “I remember the few times Iris visited Clarus at the citadel. She’d always be talking about her big brother Gladdy.”

“Sorry we never had a chance to meet until now, and feel free to call me Gladio.”

“I like Gladio.” Noct hummed as he rested his head against Ignis’ chest. “I think that’s what your dad calls you.”

Gladio nodded at the thought. He missed his father but life had gone a different direction for him. He wasn’t the prince’s shield, but looking at the scene before him Gladio questioned that choice heavily. Noct could have easily died if they hadn’t arrived in time.

“Big guy?” Prompto questioned softly. “I still need your help, I don’t want the bad guys to set this off remotely, now that we rescued the prince.”

“Shit, that’s a good point.” Gladio exclaimed as he moved next to the blond. Prompto showed him what to hold, and when he produced a pair of small wire cutters from his pocket Gladio rolled his eyes. “Do I want to know why you carry those around with you?”

“I need small tools sometimes, they help. Now focus, and hold that green wire out of the way.”

Prompto furrowed his brow and bit his tongue slightly as he worked. The younger man began cutting wires and tugging on things inside the device. When a harsh clicking noise broke the silence they all flinched. The collar was finally loose. Gladio gently pushed Prompto’s hands aside and unlatched the offending item. Noct looked like he might start to cry again when Gladio removed it entirely.

“Thank the six.” Ignis sighed. “Do you have access to the armiger again?”

Noct lifted his hand and summoned a potion. He banished it in a shimmer of blue light a second later. “What’s next?” The prince asked quietly.

“We go back to the boat and get outta here. Where do you want to go next Ignis?” Gladio asked.

“I – I.” Ignis tried to start a sentence but faltered and blinked slowly. “Uh – I’m not feeling well.” He managed. “Gladio, I may need some assistance.”

“Prompto, help Noct sit up for a second.” Gladio ordered as he stood quickly to resituate nearer to the advisor. “I told you to take it easy. Do you need a potion or a fucking nap?” He asked urgently.

“It’s the blood loss that’s done this. A potion won’t help.”

Gladio gently gripped Ignis’ upper arm in case he fell over. However, all this did was cause the man to lean into him for support.

“Blood loss!” Noct yelped. “Wha --.”

“Not right now.” Gladio begged. The prince shut his mouth thankfully, and was free of Ignis’ arms and resting against Prompto. “Come on, do you think you can make it back to the boat?”

“No.” Ignis whispered as he began tilting more heavily.

“Shit! Uh – well here, lie down.” Gladio responded worriedly, as he maneuvered Ignis down on the grass. “Noct do you have anything in the, ah – armiger we can use to cushion Ignis’ head with?”

The prince nodded and in another blue flash a coat appeared in his hands. Gladio assumed it was probably Ignis’ as it had the same styling as the shirt he’d been found in. Rolling it up, Gladio was able to gingerly lift Ignis’ head up and shove the coat in place.

“Are you comfortable?” Gladio asked.

“Can I rest for a bit? If we need to go I can --.”

“No! “ Gladio exclaimed and then he shook his head wincing. “I mean yes, you can rest and no, we don’t need to leave right away.” He watched as Ignis nodded slightly and closed his eyes. “Please rest, everything is fine.”

“Does he need a potion?” Noct asked nervously from where he was still leaning against the blond.

“No, he had a run in with a dirty glaive earlier and suffered the consequences. I used a potion already to close the wound but he lost blood. He’s refused to take a fucking break until he found you.”

“Yeah, that’s Iggy for ya.” Noct offered. “Um can I lie down too?”

“Yeah sure! Do you need anything more? A blanket or anything?”

“No, I figured Ignis would have told you already, I’m the prince of naps. I can fall asleep anywhere, anytime.” He replied yawning. “Thanks for saving me. I don’t want to go through that ever again.”

Gladio had enough sense to give the prince a bottle of water before he lay down in the grass next to Ignis. It didn’t take long and the dark haired youth was asleep.

“Feel free to join them blondie. I have a feeling we will be spending the afternoon here until they wake up.”

“Do you mind if I go take some pictures, this place is amazing looking.”

Smiling Gladio nodded his approval. His friend loved to take pictures and this place was picturesque. “Be careful and run the hell away if you see something bad.”

“Got it.”

Leaning against the knoll Gladio got comfortable and kept watch. He could only hope the bad guys weren’t planning on coming back. Prompto had been tooling around for at least two hours, but he finally seemed tired when he got back.

“Should I go get some food to snack on?” He asked hopeful.

“Sure, wouldn’t hurt to check on the boat. I’m surprised you didn’t go there already.”

“I got distracted.” Prompto admitted sheepishly. “There was a lot to take pictures of but I’ll be back soon.” He smiled.

Prompto took the messenger bag, and walked back towards the stairs and path that led to the stone harbor. His tuft of blond hair soon disappeared and Gladio sighed. He was hungry; he hoped Prompto would bring back good stuff.

Suddenly a shout broke his train of thought. He looked to the top of the stairs, as Prompto came bounding back up them with a panicked look. He was yelling and pointing behind him. “It’s the traitors!” He hollered.

This got Gladio’s blood pumping. He stood drawing his knife as the blond ran closer. Then he saw it, a flash of blue light, the same as the asshole from the alley in Altissia. Shit. Prompto wasn’t going to make it in time; the glaive was going to get him first.

>Next Chapter 4

#ffxv #fanfic #gladnis #gladio #ignis

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unfortunate-stranger-losers · 4 years

Photo

All Those Things They Couldn’t Say - A Runaway Baudelaires AU

{ao3} {tumblr} {masterlist}

Chapter Two - Beatrice and Bertrand make a Grave Error

The Baudelaire children usually didn’t go out on their own. It wasn’t that their parents didn’t trust them, but there had been several instances where they had to drop everything and immediately leave town, and Beatrice and Bertrand were absolutely terrified that one day their children would be too far away for them to pick up, and they’d end up separated, and then somehow the world would explode. But sometimes, if the kids were reasonably cautious, they could take a day to themselves.

Violet was sitting at the edge of the beach, tying back her hair. “Klaus, at what angle are the prevailing currents?”

Klaus pulled a book from the basket, reading aloud from the chart inside. Beside them, Sunny gnawed on a rock, gave it a glare, and then tossed it aside, reaching for one that wasn’t sandstone.

“Of course, we’ll need the right projectile.” Klaus said.

“That’s where Sunny comes in.” Violet said. “How you doing, sweetie?”

Sunny smiled and held up the stone, now perfectly flat. “Asill!” she called, meaning something akin to, “Ready!”

Violet pushed back the picnic basket, and stood, waving the rock in her hand.

“Excuse me, Violet,” Klaus said, “Why are you using your left hand?”

“I’m curious to see if I can throw as far with my left as I can with my right.”

“I thought this was to gather data, though.”

“My invention may need to differentiate between dominant and non-dominant hands.”

“I guess that’s true. Mark the rock.”

“Shit, I almost forgot.” Violet said. She knelt down, opening up the basket, and pulling out some chalk from underneath the canned food. “Here it is.” She drew a large X, and then stood up again and skipped. The three siblings watched as the rock tossed itself across the water and then, after Klaus called out nine skips, Violet handed him her ribbon and dove in.

Sunny cheered as the siblings were splashed. She loved getting wet and messy, though she knew it was a bad thing, as they only had a few clothes at a time. “Luto!” she cheered, meaning, “Get mud on us next!”

“Sunny, no.” Klaus sighed, pulling a dry shirt from the basket to wipe his glasses.

“Ye!” Sunny said, which meant something like, “Sunny, yes!”

Klaus replaced his glasses and looked back to the water, to see Violet emerging several feet away, her hair pressed against her face. She held up the rock, and called, “How far?”

“What?”

“How far?”

“What?”

Violet sighed and swam closer, eventually making her way back onto the sand, now dripping wet. “I said, ‘how far?’” She repeated, handing Klaus the rock.

“Oh.” Klaus considered, absent-mindedly pocketing the stone, and then told her his best guess.

“We’ll need exacts, of course,” Violet said, squeezing her hair, and then shaking like a dog. “We’ll need some kind of measuring device.” She took her ribbon from Klaus, tying her hair back again. “I need a measuring device. Portable and waterproof. Sunny-”

“Gack!” Sunny shouted, pointing ahead. “Look at that mysterious figure emerging from the fog!”

The children looked up; the beach was, indeed, quite foggy, and up ahead, was some sort of figure moving towards them.

Violet immediately tensed up, and grabbed the basket, slamming it shut and flipping the lock. Klaus lifted Sunny, who leaned into his shoulder and squinted her small eyes.

“It only seems scary because of all the mist.” Klaus said.

Violet looked very carefully, and then instantly relaxed. She dropped the basket to the ground, and ran forwards.

“Mother! Father!”

Klaus’s face brightened, and he also ran with his big sister, lifting Sunny higher as she cheered. Out of the mist, Beatrice ran forwards, enveloping her daughter in a tight hug.

“Do we- Father!” Klaus squealed as Bertrand also hugged him, then decided to go the extra mile and spin him and Sunny around. Sunny laughed and threw up her arms as if they were on a ride, while Klaus just said, “Dad! Come on!”

“I assume this isn’t urgent, then?” Violet laughed, as Beatrice let her go and looked her over.

“No. Why are you all wet?”

“I jumped in the water to get a rock.”

“Well, okay. So long as your clothes dry-”

“These will be fine, they’re the right material.”

“Is it time to go already?” Klaus asked. “We only just stopped looking at fish and tide pools and just started skipping rocks.”

“Sorry, Klaus.” Bertrand said, putting him and Sunny down and straightening Sunny’s bonnet. “But the post office is closed for the weekend, which means we can get into the attic if we hurry before the custodians lock the doors.”

“Will Lemon Man send us a telegram?” Violet asked, in a sing-song voice; she’d come up with the half-rhyme when she was eight, to entertain Klaus.

“We hope so. His last message said he should be speaking soon.” Beatrice said, her face lighting up a little.

“And,” Bertrand smiled slightly, “When we get there, we have a surprise for you children.”

“Cake?” Sunny asked, excited.

“No, afraid not.” Bertrand laughed, and he took Klaus’s hand. “Come on, let’s hurry it up before we have to climb through the window.”

Beatrice creaked open the backdoor to the post office, peered inside, and then waved and went in. Violet followed cautiously, holding onto Sunny with one arm and Klaus’s hand with the other. Bertrand took up the rear, glancing behind them every now and again just to make sure they hadn’t been followed.

Violet remembered a few years ago- she’d had to have been ten or eleven- when they had been followed. Beatrice had quietly asked her if she recognized the man in the black hat behind them at the bookstore, and Violet realized he’d been a few tables away at the café, and Klaus muttered that he’d been at the same grocery store. Beatrice and Bertrand had taken them down several aisles of the shop they were in, zig-zagging best they could, before going out into the road, running wildly down several streets until they found a crowd, pushing through it, and then picking a well-populated spot to sleep- a homeless shelter, where thankfully nobody asked questions, and a nice lady taught Violet and Klaus how to play clapping games. But even then, Violet remembered a dread in the pit of her stomach, one that didn’t go away until they were three towns away, and the black-hat man made no further appearance, and Klaus had already forgotten the incident and almost ran away to chase a cat.

She hated that dread, and now she had two siblings to help her parents look after, one of whom had no sense of fear. But at least they weren’t completely helpless; Sunny was quite the biter, and though Klaus was a slower learner than her, he could hold his own in a fight at least long enough for backup to arrive. They could run, they could hide. And they were all on the lookout for followers, anyone they recognized too many times- or sometimes even specific people. Every now and again, Mother or Father would see something in the newspaper, and turn it around and point to someone and warn them that person was an enemy- either from VFD or against, it didn’t matter. They were an enemy to their parents, and therefore the children.

Beatrice directed them away from a room with some noise inside- probably a janitor, making sure everything was clean and locked up- and herded them towards a staircase. There, she signalled them several numbers with her hands- two, fifteen, twenty-seven. The stairs that creaked. Violet went up first, swiftly skipping the steps, while Klaus took a bit longer, watching to make sure Violet skipped the step before doing so himself. Even Sunny fell silent, which was very nice; it had taken them quite some time to convince her that, yes, she had to stop humming or crying or giggling when they needed to be quiet.

Beatrice finally pushed open the door to the attic, and peered in, lighting a candle that lay beside the door. The small room flickered with the dim light, and Violet’s eyes flickered, too, as she saw the old telegrams stored around them.

“These still work.” Beatrice nodded as Violet put Sunny down, reaching again for her ribbon. “Take one apart if you want, but leave at least one working, in case Lemony contacts us.”

“Loco?” Sunny asked, which meant something like, “He knows where we are?”

“He has a… general idea.” Bertrand explained, as Klaus put the basket by the wall and he closed the door. “We never tell anyone exactly where we are, Sunny.”

“But more importantly,” Beatrice knelt by the ground, and her children quickly sat around her, forming a circle with a space left for their father, “Our surprise. Are you ready?”

“Mother, of course we are.” Klaus tried to hide his smile.

“Enough with the theater kid reveal, just tell us.” Violet said.

Beatrice made a pouting face. “What? Too dramatic for you?”

“We’re not babies, Mom.”

“Dis,” Sunny said, which meant, “That’s offensive.”

“Shut up, Sunny, you wanna see, too.”

Bertrand sat inbetween his two youngest children, looking more excited than they were, and said, “Bea, dear, show them what we got.”

Beatrice smiled so, so brightly, and then she reached into her jacket pocket, and whipped out a deck of cards.

The Baudelaires immediately lost their minds.

“Holy shit!” Klaus shouted, forgetting that they should still be quiet and also that he probably shouldn’t swear in front of his parents.

“Oh my God!” Violet started bouncing up and down, a dazzling glee spread across her face. “Oh my God! You got some? We can have some? For a while?”

“Pok!” Sunny screamed, which meant something like, “You’ll teach me to play, right? You said you would!”

Beatrice also bounced slightly, dropping the pack onto the floor in front of Sunny, who immediately grabbed it and bit into the plastic wrap to open it. “Yes! There was some in the convenience store, and since it’s finally warm enough we could ditch one pack of matches, so we have room for these now!”

“I’ll deal!” Klaus took the cards from Sunny, while she continued to bite into the plastic. “What are we playing first?”

“Pesca!” Sunny said. “Go fish!”

“Or,” Beatrice took a card from Klaus, “I could show you some tricks!”

“Yes! Yes!” Violet cheered. She quickly turned to Sunny and said, “Mother’s card tricks are the best. She can make them disappear!”

Sunny gave her a look of disbelief. “Jan,” she said, which meant, “Yeah, right.”

“Well, Sunny,” Beatrice said, showing her the ace of hearts, “If you think so…” Then, with a swish of her hand, the card was gone.

Violet and Klaus clapped, while Bertrand laughed. Sunny, however, widened her eyes in shock, and then she let out a wail.

Beatrice’s face fell. “Oh, no, Sunny, look, I can bring it back!” She waved her hand, and the ace of hearts was in her hand again.

Sunny stopped crying, a look of amazement on her face. “Wow!” she clapped.

“Now,” Bertrand said, “I was thinking about Patience. Klaus, do you want to show Sunny how to play?”

Klaus nodded, spreading out the cards. “See, Sunny, here the symbols don’t matter, but the numbers and colors. You know what numbers to look for, right?”

“Dec!” Sunny said, which meant, “One through Ten!”

“Good. Then after Ten comes the Jack, the Queen, and the King. Now, can you remember them in descending order?”

“Toidi.” “Yes, Klaus, I’m not an idiot.”

Klaus spread out the cards, and they all spread out, calling out cards they thought they could play. This continued for quite some time, to the point where Beatrice had to light a second candle so they could keep playing, and Sunny had to make sure nobody saw her yawn and would make her go to bed.

“Who taught you how to play cards?” Violet asked, after a while.

“My foster mother.” Bertrand said. “Beatrice learned from…”

He trailed off, but Beatrice finished. “From my chaperone.”

They fell silent. Then, Klaus said, “Well, I bet they didn’t think that part of the game would be trying to keep an infant from eating the- Sunny, stop it!”

Sunny put down the queen of spades, huffing. That was enough to brighten the mood again, and Beatrice let out a loud laugh, almost doubling over. “S-Sunny, please- please, they’re not food.”

“Doo,” Sunny said, which meant, “Everything’s food if you eat it.”

“Sunny.” Bertrand laughed.

“God, you’re going to be a disaster when you get older.” Violet giggled, placing a card down.

“Xis,” Sunny huffed, which meant something like, “No, I’m going to be the Queen, so bow to me, peasants.”

“Now, Sunny,” Bertrand chided, “That’s no way to talk to your loyal subjects.”

“Loyal my ass,” Violet snorted. “We’re throwing her down the garbage chute first chance we get. Too much dead weight.”

“Bapa!” “I’ll show you who’s dead weight!”

Sunny launched herself at Violet, barely shaking her balance. Violet, though, flopped on the ground, crying, “Oh no! The Queen has gone mad with power!”

“The Queen is attacking the Royal Scientist!” Klaus shouted, before picking Sunny up and waving her in the air. “Off with her head!”

“Viva la Revolución!” Violet cheered from the floor.

“Now, now,” Beatrice laughed, “Does the Empress have to step in?”

“No, the Empress can go make out with the Emperor.” Klaus said, as he tossed Sunny into the air and caught her again.

“Well, if you insist-” Bertrand said.

“Dad, no! Not in front of the baby!”

“I’m baby!” Sunny cheered, as Klaus tossed her again.

But before they could say any more, they heard a telegram machine start up.

Beatrice immediately leapt to her feet, rushing to the machine that was printing out a small paper for them. Bertrand froze, eyes wide.

“Lemon Man has sent us a telegram!” Klaus said.

Violet didn’t join in his laughter, though, instead inspecting her parents’ faces. Whenever she was present for the receiving of a telegram, her parents always had the same look, a mixture that took her several experiences to decipher. First, in their jumble of instant emotions, was an excitement- whether positive or negative depended on how much of a jam they were in, though her parents made sure that they were never in too much danger to begin with. Second was relief, because it meant Snicket knew where they were and could send them news, though it was always in code. Third was a fear, fear that this would be horrible news, or someone else’s message, telling them that Snicket had been captured and someone was coming for them. Last, and hardest to figure out- in fact, Violet only placed it now, as Beatrice returned with the paper, showing it to Bertrand, who took out a pen to help decode- was a longing. She wondered what the longing was for- for the life they’d left behind, or just for their friend. They’d always seemed very fond of Lemony, whenever they discussed him; they must have been incredibly close.

“He hasn’t used this code in a while.” Beatrice snorted. “Finally remembered it existed.”

“Yeah, he’s gotta stop using Sebald. Too wordy.” Bertrand said.

“First of all, that’s just how Lemony is.” Beatrice said. “Second, bold words coming from ‘attempting a botanical hybrid through the tuberous canopy, which should bring safety to fruition despite its dangers to our associates in utero.’”

“Hell, Bea, you still have that memorized?”

“I’m an actress, dear, memorization is my job.”

“Get a room!” Klaus said, rolling his eyes and bouncing Sunny on his lap, where she had started to eat her bonnet.

“You need any help with that, Mother?” Violet asked, peering over at her parents circling letters and scribbling them at the paper’s edge.

“Thank you, Vi, but I think we’ve got it.” Beatrice said. She got to the last sentence, and said, “Alright, let’s see what our silence knot has for us today.”

Her and Bertrand’s eyes widened, however, as they read the message, and Violet could see a flash of fear. Shit. That wasn’t good news.

“Mother? What does it say?” Klaus asked, his face falling. Slowly, Violet started to pick up the playing cards.

Beatrice scanned the note, as if hoping that it would say something different. Then, quietly, she read.

HURRY. YOU ARE IN DANGER. I CAN KEEP YOU SAFE BUT YOU MUST RETURN TO THE CITY. MAY BE ABLE TO CLEAR YOUR NAMES. BRING ALL ASSOCIATES. O IS NEARBY. -YSK

Violet knew “YSK” was Lemony’s way of signing off- Your Silence Knot, some kind of inside joke they shared- and she knew that O was one of the people they were running from- what was his name again? Omar? But it didn’t matter what she knew; the message chilled her.

“The city?” Klaus’s voice grew quiet. “You said that’s where we were running from.”

“We shouldn’t be there.” Violet said.

Beatrice shut her eyes, taking a few deep breaths. Bertrand was the first one to respond. “Children, we trust Lemony more than anyone else on this planet- except you, of course. If he says…” he trailed off. “God, this is risky.”

“He wouldn’t ask us to do it if it wasn’t important.” Beatrice whimpered- the children had never known their mother to whimper.

“Are we sure it’s him?”

“Nobody else would sign off with YSK, or know our location.”

“How can Olaf be nearby?” Olaf, that was it!

“Which one is Olaf again?” Klaus asked.

Bertrand drew in a sharp breath. Beatrice shook slightly, and said, “He’s… he’s the one we wronged.”

Violet and Klaus went pale, while Sunny just looked up in confusion. “Whazzit?” she asked, but nobody responded.

“Are you… gonna tell us what happened?” Klaus prodded, and Violet elbowed him.

“We… we can discuss that when we’re safe.” Beatrice said. “We’ll have to move quickly. If we catch a train tonight, we should be there by morning.”

“Do you have money?”

“I have enough. We can put Sunny in the basket if someone wears an extra jacket, so we don’t have to pay for her ticket.”

“Sure.” Sunny nodded, excited to do some sneaking.

“Should we really bring the children?” Beatrice asked, glancing towards them.

“Lemony said to bring all associates. Who else could he mean? He must have some kind of plan, right?”

“Maybe he wants us to invite the designated safe people.”

“It would take a while for all your safehouse peeps to show up.” Violet mentioned. Their parents had them all memorize the addresses of places to go if they got separated, but she doubted Lemony would know which houses they were- or, indeed, if the people living there knew they were a safehouse.

Beatrice glanced back down at the telegram, running her hand over the message. Then, quietly, she said, “Do you think he could really clear our names?”

Bertrand met her gaze, and they were clearly asking the same question- do we want him to?

“So,” Violet interrupted, knowing her parents were thinking terrible things and not wanting that to continue for much longer, “Does this mean we get to meet our mysterious Lemony man?”

Beatrice and Bertrand each took a deep breath, and then Bertrand said, “Yes.”

Klaus smiled brightly, and he picked up Sunny. “What are we waiting for, then?”

Beatrice grabbed her husband’s hand, and as the children ran to get all their bags and make sure they had everything, she whispered, “We’re seeing him again.”

“We’re seeing him again.” Bertrand repeated, his voice just as full of hope as hers.

#asoue #asoue netflix #a series of unfortunate events #asoue au #runaway baudelaires au #asoue fanfiction #mine #my fanfic #the bad beginning #all those things they couldn't say

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floofsta-x · 6 years

Text

Funny I Met You [M]

genre;; Realistic, College!AU

pairing;; Chae Hyungwon x Lee Jooheon [Hyungheon]. There’s mentions of Changki (Im Changkyun x Yoo Kihyun) too.

plot ;;

A curious story of love between a saxophonist and a tall, beautiful boy he meets at a gig.

⚠️ warnings;; fluff, smut

words;; 10011 (10k)

author’s notes;; I NEEDED SOME HYUNGHEON IN MY LIFE OK. kdjsf;adsj; As always, real life is the inspiration for this. I am a music major and saxophonist, like Jooheon is in this fic. Thank the Universe for finally letting me write some legit Sax!Jooheon.

Lee Jooheon never liked big social and public events. Often, things were far too cramped, and he held his ability to breathe in high esteem. Fairs, conventions, parties, anything, really, made him anxious. So, the first moment he could, he tended to escape, get some fresh air and reassure himself that the outside world existed. Nobody would catch him dead in a crowd, much less one with a bunch of sweaty, drunk people, but alas, that was where he was. The college Junior scrunched up his nose at the smell of alcohol, lingering in the air and on people’s breaths.

Beer festival. Normally, Jooheon wouldn't dare even think those two things in the same sentence. Yet, he was here, wandering among the crowd, because of the one thing in life he loved most--music. No wonder he had chosen to be a music major, though it required sacrifice. He was willing to go the distance to achieve his dream, though. That seemed to mean, he’d put himself in uncomfortable situations for it, like right now. See, Jooheon’s Jazz/pop combo would perform soon, and they’d get paid in cash for their efforts. So, the saxophonist had jumped at going. There was no way he was missing a gig with some of his closest friends. He could deal with the venue when the band--his band--surrounded him. Hip charts, too, made everything better.

Earlier in the day, they had loaded all the gear they'd need, and around two pm, departed from their small college town. It took three hours to arrive at a slightly bigger, but still small dot on the map. The trip was uneventful, for the most part. However, a buzz went through those in Jooheon's car as they pulled up to their destination. The platinum blond couldn't help but gaze in brief awe. Everyone was expecting this to be like any other indoor gig, but now it was clear they were wrong. The line of cars was heading straight for a tent. It wasn't a big top, like a circus would have, but still a good-sized one, intended for events. Loud music emanated from within; people swarmed in, out, and around the fluttering canvas structure. The butterflies in Jooheon's belly picked up energy.

Their professor and director, Dr. Ahn, seemed to know who to talk to. It was clear that he'd done this before. All it took was a couple conversations. Strings got pulled, and the vans they had brought were able to go right to the back entrance, by the stage. That was nice, for when they'd have to set up. Jooheon checked his watch; it was currently fifteen after five, and their slot was at six, leaving them plenty of time. All he wanted to do was tickle the keys on his alto. There was still another group performing, though, so unfortunately, it would have to wait.

Dr. Ahn approached the huddle of talking college kids, where they were hovering by the edge of the tent. 'Kill a few minutes,' were his exact words. About half the band was gone in a second after that announcement.

That was why Jooheon was wandering around, "exploring" with his two best friends, Kihyun and Changkyun. They had insisted the saxophonist go with them; why, he didn't quite get. They had made it sound important, though, and so Jooheon had relented. Not that he wouldn't have been fine with it, anyway, but there were two things irking him. First of all, there were already more people here than what he had expected. He didn't want to be alone, and worried about losing Kihyun-hyung and Changkyunie in in the crowd. Second, the trumpet player and electric bassist (respectively) had recently become a couple. Of course, after that happened, they had become touchy and--y’know--more inclined to do things boyfriends do. Kiss, for example. When they acted affectionate, it made Jooheon sad. He had been feeling lonely lately with Changkyun so involved in the new relationship. To deal with the absence, Jooheon retreated into the college's practice rooms. It was only his natural reaction. He loved spending time on his alto saxophone, anyway. Fifteen extra minutes buried in sheet music and Jazz theory never hurt anyone.

Jooheon trailed behind the pair, trying his hardest not to look at anyone and yet avoid his best friends, too. They were already holding hands and sharing shy smiles. Kihyun leaned into Changkyun’s shoulder every once in a while. Then they’d talk a bit, only to go back to looking at the displays and menus of the different vendors and brewers.

For the most part, the place was what Jooheon had expected--a bunch of party people. They hung out in groups, and everyone had a glass of beer in their hand, or a bottle. Nothing much to look at. Yeah, occasionally, something would draw his eye. Like, once, he spotted Hoseok, their drummer, whom everyone called Wonho. The handsome older boy was holding his own mug and chatting it up with some other college-age guys. Jooheon also thought he saw Hyunwoo-hyung wandering through the crowd. He could have been wrong, though. The baritone saxophonist had seemed determined to hang out by the stage earlier.

Soon his disinterested gaze was firmly fixed on the ground, which was why he ran into anyone in the first place. All at once, there was something in his path. Jooheon had to throw his weight backwards to avoid a collision. The object was moving, too, however, and was in all actuality, quite clumsy. That was what made the saxophonist realize that it was not something, but someone. He watched in horror as a warm body almost collapsed on top of him, but somehow managed to keep upright. Perhaps it was the last-minute hand on Jooheon's shoulder.

Jooheon glanced up and opened his mouth to apologize, but the tall, brown-haired man beat him to it. “Oh no, I’m so sorry. Did I get anything on you?” He seemed shocked, but there was a slight, shy smile on his face. It was only then that the saxophonist saw the bottle of beer and a paper boat of nachos in his hands. A matching wet stain and dots of yellow dotted the front of his tee shirt. Apparently, that was a result of the collision.

Glancing down, Jooheon checked his concert black out, and found he had been lucky. Nothing foreign or food related was visible there. "No, no, I don’t think so."

"Good." For the first time, the two boys locked gazes. The younger couldn’t help but gasp and blink. In a brief moment, he found that it took everything he had not to stare into the other’s big, brown eyes. Jooheon's brain was telling him that this guy was very handsome; almost sinfully so, it seemed. First of all, he was tall. Medium-long, perfectly-styled black hair fell in a sweep across his forehead. The stonewashed, ripped-knee jeans he wore with a loose tee accented his lean, slim body type. The dude could be a model for tuxedo or designer catalogs. Majorly overpriced clothing gurus would go for a face and body like his.

Guilt had plagued Jooheon before, but now it was even worse. He scrambled for an answer, inadvertently starting a conversation in an attempt to fight the rising blush in his cheeks. “Aish, I’m sorry, too, now you’re going to smell like beer for the rest of the night.”

“I don’t care about that…I mean my clothes are the least of my worries, and I would never mind running into a cutie like you." Wait--what? Jooheon turned redder, and finally managed to break eye contact. “Anyways, I’m Chae Hyungwon. I’m mortified I almost got nacho cheese on your nice clothes--I’d hate to ruin them. Not sure if I’d be wearing something like that to a beer fest, but to each man his own, I suppose.”

The platinum blond would have laughed if he wasn’t so stunned at the stranger's flirty comment. It had taken a moment, but once it had hit, Jooheon could have melted into the ground. So, he tried to concentrate on the second half of what Hyungwon said. “I didn’t just choose to wear this. My Jazz combo is performing pretty soon.”

“Oh! That makes sense. Sorry again, I spoke too quickly.”

“It’s ok. You didn’t know. I’m Jooheon. Lee Jooheon.”

“Pleasure to meet you, Jooheon.” Somehow, the saxophonist loved his own name rolling off the tall boy’s tongue. His baritone voice was warm and lush, and the way it made his perfect, plump lips tip and tuck was irresistible. Jooheon couldn’t help but stare again. A bright, white smile erupted on Hyungwon’s face, and he tossed a chip covered in nacho cheese into his mouth. “What do you play in the combo, if you don’t mind me asking?”

“Alto sax.” Honestly, Jooheon could talk about his most prized possession all day. He had a lot to say about the beautiful golden instrument, but decided to spare Hyungwon all the details. “That’s the smaller one.”

“I know. I played piano in my college Jazz band. I’m graduated now, but I miss it, I have to say.”

“So wait--how old are you?” Jooheon couldn’t help but think that the guy was his age, or slightly younger. So to hear he had a degree was surprising.

“Twenty-three. I’m only half a year out from graduation, but I got an early jump too.”

That made sense. “Alright. I just turned twenty-three, like last week, and I’m a semester and a half away from walking so…”

“Oh?” Hyungwon’s eyebrows perked as he stuck another chip in and chewed thoughtfully. “Gosh, I honestly thought you were younger…at least two years younger than that.”

“Huh. Funny. I was thinking the same thing about you.” Jooheon switched his focus so he wouldn’t have to be constantly looking into the boy’s eyes or to his lips. Unfortunately, he only found that he was in awe at those long, slender, beautiful fingers, too.

Hyungwon noticed, of course, and mistook the intention. “Eyeing my nachos, huh?”

“No, I’m okay--“

“You sure? I’ll gladly get you some. It’s only a few bucks. Besides, adorable, dimpled saxophonists need to be well-fed.”

The way the tall boy crunched his eyebrows together was irresistible. Plus, he was flirting again. Jooheon didn’t want to give in, but Hyungwon was making it hard not to. He sighed. “Alright, alright. But I have some cash on me, you don’t need to--“

Hyungwon brushed that away with a hand. “Nonsense. I’d be glad. I was the one who ran into you after all, I shouldn’t have tried to shoot the gap between you and those boys in front of you.”

“Well, I was staring at the ground. So I guess that makes us even?”

Hyungwon laughed, a beautiful, melodic sound that somehow made Jooheon a little dizzy. “Alright, come on.” Together, they made their way back over to the stand the nachos had come from. There was a line, but it went quickly, and Hyungwon ordered and paid for more food. “Hey, you want some beer, too?” The older boy asked as a side thought.

“No thanks. Not right now.” Jooheon shook his head. “Thanks for offering though.”

“You’re welcome. Anytime.”

Conversation between them was lively and comfortable as they found a table near the stage and ate. Soon, they were flying through topics. Seemingly everything came up, from their friends, to their pets and jobs. Jooheon worked desk at one of the hotels in his college town, which could be fun and not fun. Hyungwon listened with interest, chuckling at the stories. When it went back to him, though, his demeanor changed. He fiddled with his hands and admitted he was currently unemployed. It wasn't like he was doing nothing, though. Job-hunting was a big priority for him. He'd applied to several different businesses over the last few weeks. Hopefully, it was only a matter of time now before he got his first real job.

Jooheon grinned, and gushed that he was proud; anyone would be, considering how great of a guy Hyungwon was. Hell, Jooheon knew, even though they had only met minutes before. The older boy took the compliment, though he seemed shy and embarrassed. “Well, we’ll have to see.”

As time passed, their nacho boats became emptier and emptier. Jooheon found himself living for Hyungwon’s laugh; he could listen to it all day. The face he made along with it was great too. In a way it was hysterical and so meme-worthy, but endearing. He threw his head back, first of all, arms crossed over his shaking stomach. His smile took over his entire visage, and every pearly white tooth in his mouth was visible. Then, there was that his cheeks pushed up into his eyes.

Suddenly, in the middle of a funny story about his days in the Jazz band, Hyungwon shifted slightly. A question popped from his mouth, out of the blue: “Jooheon, do you have a girlfriend? Or boyfriend?”

Taken off-guard, and still in the dark about why it had come up, Jooheon managed to stutter, “No. I haven’t dated since high school. Unless you mean my sax. In that case, I’m married.” Licking his lips to get rid of a sudden dryness, Jooheon shot the query back. “You?”

“Oh, no, me neither.” Hyungwon chuckled, probably at the joke, but then his tone dropped. “My boyfriend broke up with me last week.”

“I’m sorry, Hyungwon-ah.” For some reason, the younger already felt comfortable with the honorific. He felt like he knew the tall boy well already, from the few minutes since they had literally run into each other. “I know how that is. I’ve had ex-boyfriends break my heart, too.”

At 'ex-boyfriends', a spark of hope ignited in Hyungwon’s eyes. The older lit up palpably, though he tried to conceal it. Shakily, he began, “Ah--I’m sorry if this is too forward, but…could I…hold your hand? I don’t know why, I just…want to.”

Jooheon hesitated only a second, if that. “Sure.”

Hyungwon reached out across the table, and Jooheon met him halfway. Their fingers laced together, long, dark digits against shorter, chubbier, slightly lighter ones. Hyungwon’s hand was so, so warm, and the saxophonist decided he liked it. The feeling filled him with butterflies. When he glanced back up, he couldn't help but blush again as he discovered the other staring at him fondly.

Right around that time, though, the act on stage said their goodnights and made their way off, pulling their gear with them. Simultaneously, the other members of Jooheon's combo rose. Almost like ants, they started to unload the waiting cars, opting to keep everything out on the floor for now, untouched until setup. Jooheon knew he had to go, and squeezed the tall boy’s hand gently. “It's about time for me to perform. You’re staying to watch the set, right?”

“Of course. I have to, since you’ve talked yourself up like you have.” Hyungwon laughed, and the sparkle in his eyes was bright and clear. “Go make some noise, Jooheon-ah.”

“I will.” The saxophonist shot him one last, wide smile before he was off to where the others were. He came up just in time to have his instrument handed to him, and catch several others coming out, too.

Jooheon turned around again to the sight of Lee Minhyuk’s smirk, and instantly knew he was in trouble. “I am shocked and astounded,” the tenor saxophonist proclaimed, as someone passed him his horn. “Lee Jooheon, the king of salty, single men, holding hands with a boy.”

Coolly, the blond tried to think of a good comeback to his sharp-tongued friend. Hardly an easy task. “You have anything against my holding hands with a boy?” Not ideal, but it would have to do.

“No, but I didn't think I'd live to see the day you finally showed interest in someone.”

“Lee Minhyuk, my romantic and sexual drives are perfectly fine. Besides, he’s nice, and cute. Why wouldn’t I want to show interest in him?”

“You got me there. Seriously though, he is pretty hot.” Both their gazes wandered over to the table where Hyungwon was sitting, tapping away on his phone and jiggling his leg to an imaginary beat. The older guy whistled. “Damn, look at those lips. Get his number, yeah?”

“Hyung--"

“If he doesn’t work out for you, send him my way.” Minhyuk wiggled his eyebrows, and Jooheon couldn’t help but groan.

Soon everything was set up on the stage platform. The wind players popped open their cases and got ready to go. Music was on stands, everyone was in line; all they needed now was the title of their first chart. Also, a cue from Dr. Ahn would be nice. Both of those were promptly given, and the band roared to life.

The energy they were putting out instantly won over the crowd. People whooped and cheered, clapping their hands. Dr. Ahn had decided to play Gloria Gaynor’s I Will Survive, which was definitely a favorite. Maybe Jooheon had a slight bias, but in his humble opinion, the band did an exceptional rendition. (Never mind that he was at the helm of the instrumental solo part.) Everything seemed especially tight tonight, especially in the horns.

After their fifth tune, Piece of My Heart by Janis Joplin, Hyunwoo leaned over to Jooheon, psst-ing at him. He had to get around Kim Yugyeom, their kid trombone player, so this was probably important.

“Yeah?” Jooheon took a step back and ducked closer so he could hear.

“You have an admirer.” A smirk grew on the bari saxophonist’s face. “Two o’clock.”

Of course, that was Hyungwon. Jooheon couldn't help but sneak a peek. The tall boy was grinning and waiting with baited breath for what the next tune would be. “Yah, I know.” He has an admirer, too.

From the moment Hyungwon had met Jooheon, he had known the younger was someone special. Something in the back of the tall boy's brain told him that this was a once in a lifetime thing. Don't let the opportunity pass by. That notion had only intensified as they had sat and eaten together. Even now, it was growing, building in his chest. How could someone look so beautiful, standing on stage with a saxophone in hand? Maybe it was how the white-haired boy was so animated in playing. Hyungwon's heart fluttered wildly when Jooheon glanced up to cheer on the band or make an approving noise at a particularly nice solo lick.

He didn't realize how bad it was, though, until once, when the two of them made eye contact. Hyungwon swore his heart almost stopped beating altogether. Jooheon held the older boy's gaze unwaveringly for a few moments before breaking into a huge, blinding grin. Then he dipped his head to meet his mouthpiece again.

The feeling came back, spreading through him like wildfire. It was the exact same as earlier, when Hyungwon had realized the depth of Jooheon's eyes. The glint in them was playful, but slowly changed until it took on a challenging, eager tint. Instantly, the older had forgotten what he was going to say about his goofy college friends. One question burned on his lips.

"Jooheon, do you have a girlfriend? Or boyfriend?"

He hadn't known what answer to expect. It seemed like a futile hope to want to hear no. How could such an attractive young man not be in a relationship? But something was aligning in the cosmos tonight. Incredulity crept through Hyungwon when Jooheon admitted to not having dated since high school.

Of course, right afterwards came the reciprocated question, which made Hyungwon grimace. The memory of how his stupid ex had left him just four days before was still an open wound. Knowing the other’s answer, though, dulled the sting. Perhaps the messy breakup was in the stars. Hyungwon didn't want to imagine having to hold back in this moment with Jooheon. Immediately, those thoughts got shoved aside, though, with the younger's next words.

I've had ex-boyfriends break my heart, too.

Hearing from his lips that he had dated men in the past gave Hyungwon so much courage. The tall boy's eagerness bubbled up out of him. He stared at Jooheon's pretty hand for a brief minute before asking if he could hold it. Words couldn't describe how happy he had been when the Jooheon had agreed. Their fingers and palms had fit together so, so perfectly. Now, in the same way, Hyungwon was staring at the beautiful pout wrapped around the black mouthpiece of the saxophone. How long could he resist before he would finally relent to his heart and ask to kiss it? Would Jooheon agree to that as well, and would the sparks fly, as they did before?

Concentrating on the music wasn't hard when Jooheon was the one leaning into the mic. His perfect fingers skimmed expertly over the golden keys of his instrument. His jaw, too, was working hard, pushing and relaxing on the reed to lend that perfect Jazz nuance. Every note that fell from the horn was heaven, a powerful wave of sound that threatened to tip Hyungwon's chair backwards. Perhaps it was only his fascination with the other, but he'd revel in it as much as he could.

It hurt that this might be the first and last time he'd get to see the handsome, dimpled young man. A sudden wave of determination flooded him to not let it be. If only he could once again work up the courage...

The whole thing was over faster than what Jooheon would have liked, and yet he was also glad. He couldn’t stop thinking about Hyungwon, and it got worse when he’d look at the tall boy. There were also extra-loud cheers after Jooheon’s solos, and the saxophonist knew almost immediately who was behind them. He still felt so warm, like the older’s hand was hot in his own. Jooheon didn’t know how he managed to keep it all together, considering his heart rate was off the charts.

The moment final words and thanks were complete, everyone was grabbing something of theirs and pulling it offstage. Jooheon needed to help this time, so he couldn’t immediately go back to Hyungwon. He signaled this to the older, who nodded in understanding and held up his thumb. There was that wide smile again, and the other mouthed from afar, Okay. I'll be here when you’re done.

Once everything was back in the vans, Dr. Ahn surprised everyone again. He handed each person a ten dollar bill and declared, ‘go eat before we have to leave’. Already having nachos sitting comfortably in his belly, Jooheon pocketed the money. He didn’t need anything else; well, except for Hyungwon. The first moment he could, he went back to the table, taking his seat and smiling at the taller boy.

In response, he got a grin right back and an outstretched hand. Jooheon didn’t think twice in taking it, and hummed a bit as some lost warmth crept back into his bones again. "You were wonderful up there," Hyungwon said. It wouldn't be obvious to just anyone, but his lips were trembling slightly. The boy's eyes seemed hooded and blinked more rapidly than normal, too. Jooheon figured it was because he was trying to hold back the flow of compliments wanting to pour out. It scared the saxophonist that he knew his new friend so well already. Yet, there was something comforting about it, too.

The next act was on in no time, and they had pre-recorded music blasting through the speakers. If things weren't loud before, they were now. Though Jooheon and Hyungwon didn't speak, it was obvious they were both uncomfortable. The latter was the first to do something about it. He leaned across to pretty much yell-ask in Jooheon’s ear if he wanted to go outside. Nodding, the younger picked himself up and tugged on his new friend's arm. Their hands didn’t come unclasped even the slightest bit. Together, they ducked through a flap in the tent and wandered out into the coolness of the night. It had fallen while Jooheon's band was performing, sun slinking lower on the horizon, stealing away like a thief.

It took some time, but they managed to find a nice spot to themselves. So, now, other than the noise going on behind them from the crowd of rowdies, things were peaceful and quiet. The two simply enjoyed it for a long moment before Hyungwon's gentle baritone started up. “Hey, Jooheon, I—I’m really glad I ran into you. Even if it meant getting nacho cheese on myself.”

“I’m glad, too,” the younger chuckled. “Even if I still feel bad that you got nacho cheese on yourself.”

Hyungwon’s eyes filled with something indescribable, and his gaze dropped, weighted, to the ground. He seemed to be thinking something over, a heavy matter perhaps. The younger just waited for him to say something. He spent a long moment in thought, but eventually, his entire body relaxed. Jooheon smirked, thinking about what might be going on in that handsome head. Hyungwon was back to the eager young man who had first asked to hold hands. His last shreds of caution were evidently abandoned to the wind. “Come home with me tonight,” he blurted, hopeful; immediately, his cheeks began to heat up.

Jooheon paused. Not like he didn’t want to accept on the spot, but the caution part of his brain kicked in automatically. Shit, they were still practically strangers, having known each other for barely over an hour. What if Hyungwon was a serial killer, planned on taking advantage of him, or had some strange kink? Jooheon doubted any of those, greatly, though. More concerning was the fact that he was three hours away from a warm bed. “I’m sorry, Hyungwon-ah, I can’t--We’re headed back to the college right after this--“

“I don’t mind driving you as far as you need,” The tall boy piped up. “Stay overnight at my apartment, and I’ll get you there, tomorrow, or the next day--whenever you want." Despite his hope, he quickly tacked onto the end, "But if you really don’t want to, I’m not going to pressure you into it.”

“I—I have to be back in the morning. I work at one pm.” Jooheon averted his eyes, on the edge of giving in. Though his mental alarms were still going off, the siren was fading. There was no way this gentle young man would hurt him or use force.

“Please, I don’t mind.” Hyungwon was almost begging at this point. His eyes were full of hope. “I want to be with you. I haven’t met anyone who even compares to you in a long time--maybe ever. If you never want to think about me again after this, I’ll be fine with that. All I ask is that you give me a chance.”

Jooheon squeezed Hyungwon’s hand a little tighter. “Alright.”

“You’re--what?” Kihyun and Changkyun blurted in tandem when Jooheon told them he wasn’t leaving with the band.

“I’m going with Hyungwon over there.” The saxophonist motioned to where his new friend was standing, waiting for Jooheon to come back. “I’ll crash at his place. He’s already promised to drive me back for my shift at the hotel tomorrow.”

“Lee Jooheon!” Kihyun, always the motherly friend, exclaimed, exasperated. “Are you sure that’s such a good idea? You only met him tonight--he could be dangerous, what if he murders you--“

“My gut tells me that he’s not, and it’ll be fine,” Jooheon replied, calmly. “Hyungwon-ah is a good guy, and usually my instincts are dead on--right, Kkungie?”

“They are.” Changkyun sighed and glanced over at Kihyun, who was about to open his mouth to protest again. The older boy shut up. “Is your phone charged?”

“Well--It’s almost dead, but I have my charger and cord in my bag.”

Kyun relaxed and nodded at the reaffirmation. “Alright. If you are ever unsure, please, please get yourself away as fast as you can. Call us, or the police--someone will come get you.”

No wonder the bassist was his best friend. Times like this always reminded Jooheon of that. “I will. Now I just have to go tell Dr. Ahn.”

Jooheon was admittedly nervous about getting official permission to go home with Hyungwon. He did his best to explain clearly and gently to the older, graying man. Something must have convinced him, because the doctor nodded. “Alright, I'll allow it if you’re sure, Jooheon.”

“I am. I trust him. Do you want me to call when I get home tomorrow?”

“No, that's not necessary. Just be safe, alright?”

“Yes, sir.”

Minutes later, the saxophonist had his instrument and music in hand and was walking back over to the tall boy. “It’s all cleared,” he quipped brightly and smiled, reaching out his free hand to tangle in Hyungwon’s.

The smile that spread across the other's face was priceless.

A sense of newness still lingered between them. Perhaps that was the reason why Jooheon and Hyungwon had everything to talk about in the car. They thought they had gotten to know each other pretty well at the festival, but now it was clear they had only scratched the surface. Tidbits of information flowed back and forth, and one question always brought up another. Neither could stop smiling as they chatted amiably. Moment by moment, and word by word, fondness and affection was growing between them.

Hyungwon felt comfortable driving, since his first and only beer had been about an hour ago. Despite a burning need to look at the beautiful boy who was somehow, impossibly, sitting next to him, he made his eyes stay on the road. The few minutes it took to get from the festival to their destination flew by. Before long, they were pulling up to the small, cozy apartment Hyungwon called home.

He led the younger inside, flipping on the lights to reveal a place that was clearly a bachelor pad. It wasn’t trashed, but wrappers and things lay here and there. Hyungwon picked up what his eyes caught at first glance, and disappeared into the kitchen. In the meantime, Jooheon set his saxophone down by the door and kicked off his shoes. The walls were bare (not surprising in the least, honestly), but there wasn’t too much empty floor space. A faux leather sofa and a couple armchairs that matched it took up a good chunk of room. In front of those was an entertainment center and widescreen TV. Various game consoles sat on the shelves. Nearby was a plastic tote filled with games, and a cabinet full of movies.

Jooheon, impressed, plopped down on the couch and glanced curiously around, trying to memorize every corner of the place. He wouldn’t have taken Hyungwon as someone who liked that sort of thing, but now the image of him as a gamer fit. Doubtless, he had friends who came over frequently to chill. Or perhaps the tall boy immersed himself in fantasy worlds when life got too stressful.

In no time, Hyungwon’s distinctive footsteps came back into earshot. He turned at the end of the couch, smiling widely at his guest. “So, how is everything?”

“It’s very homey in here. I like it. All the games are pretty sweet, too.”

“Thanks. And ah, yeah, they’re good time killers, for when you’re waiting for a call from a potential employer.” Jooheon puckered his lips in thought and nodded. It’s probably what he’d be doing, as well, if he was in Hyungwon’s situation. The taller followed up with, “You like playing, too?”

“Yeah, but I don’t get a chance to very often.” That was mostly reserved for when Jooheon went home. He didn’t have a TV in his dorm room, and being a music major kept him very, very busy anyway.

“If you want to try something out, go for it. I’ve got a lot of things, Call of Duty, Grand Theft Auto, Dragon Age, Gears of War, Super Smash Brothers, some of the Final Fantasies, Danganronpa, even, if you want.”

The saxophonist lit up. “I’ve got a better idea. Do you have Mario Kart?”

“Huh? Of course! No game collection would be complete without at least one of the Mario Karts.” Hyungwon broke out into a full-bellied laugh and went over to the tote, rummaging around until he found what he was looking for. He waved the game in the air. “This okay?”

“Perfect.” Jooheon nodded, and dropping down onto the carpeted floor, crawled forward to grab two controllers. “Play a few rounds with me, pleeease?”

The younger boy didn’t even have to beg. Hyungwon was all in. “Bring it on. Just warning you, I’m super good.”

“Ah, we’re going to have to see about that.”

The taller man loaded the disc in, and turned to settle down on the couch. Jooheon, however, seemed to have different ideas. He pouted and patted the floor next to him. Giving a grin, Hyungwon obeyed, and their knees touched. At the sudden warmth (Hyungwon, too, had noticed the temperature difference between them), Jooheon shivered.

“Yah, I can’t bear to see you with goosebumps,” Hyungwon cooed, and reached behind him to pull a blanket from the sofa. Slowly, cautiously, he edged closer to the saxophonist and draped it over them both. As Jooheon hummed in contentment, the older chanced a peek, and his breath hitched. There was a soft appeal to Jooheon’s features, and the fuzzy blanket made him look so cute, happy, and loveable. Almost as if he knew he was being admired, his eyes fluttered shut and he leaned against Hyungwon’s shoulder. With the saxophonist close like this, it was harder to breathe, and Hyungwon felt his heart beat fast, too.

The main game screen kicked up, though, and the momentary feeling of love dissipated. Excitement took over, and soon enough the two of them could have been five years old again. Laughing and yelling, they play-fought, trying to sabotage each other as they raced. Hyungwon won first, Jooheon won second, and thus they traded victory and defeat for a good two hours.

Eventually, their competitive natures settled down as they tired themselves out. A few easy races passed in relative peace. That was, until one particularly close round. They battled and clashed, bumpers colliding on the little animated carts. It seemed futile on Hyungwon's part, though, as Jooheon managed to gain and keep the upper hand. An idea started to form in the taller's head. Gradually, so the saxophonist wouldn't suspect anything, he began to hang back. Suddenly, Hyungwon was happy letting Jooheonie believe he was about to win. That wasn't quite the case, though, and there was a hidden ace up his sleeve. At the final turn, finish line in sight, he made his move. Gaze quickly flicking to the other boy, the taller lifted his elbow and nudged Jooheon hard in the ribs.

“Oww!--Fucking--!”

That split second lapse of concentration was all Hyungwon needed to zoom past and across the finish line first. He couldn’t help but let a sly smile slide onto his face. Once Jooheon had finished rubbing his side, he was silent for a moment. Then, slowly, realization dawned. The offending party automatically leaned as far away as he could, hoping to avoid wrath. Indeed, it seemed that his instincts were dead on, as Hell hath no fury like Lee Jooheon scorned at Mario Kart.

"H--Hyungwon, you cheater! That really hurt, too!" The blond's screech had Hyungwon howling with laughter. It was just so uncharacteristic, and the sudden flip in mood would be enough to hit anyone’s funny bone. Jooheon chased the tall boy partway across the carpet; somehow, the other managed to stay out of reach. In moments their energy ran out, though, and it was over. It was late, nearing the end of a long day, after all. Both guys were heaving for air, chests rising and falling in time. No hard feelings remained, either. Wide smiles spread on their faces; the inevitable chuckle slipped from Jooheon's throat.

Suddenly, they made eye contact, and something clicked.

Hyungwon had managed to forget for a while about his feelings of lust, but now they returned in full force. He had wanted to taste Jooheon all night, and he wasn’t going to get a better moment to do it than here, now. The saxophonist’s cheeks had a red flush, and his eyes were bright and sparkling. There was a fondness in those dark irises, too. Was it possible for anyone to look more enticing? Probably not. Cautiously, he scooted back over and reached out a hand, cupping the beautiful boy’s cheek in his palm. The other blinked, eyes widening, but he didn’t pull away. Hyungwon drug a thumb across those plump lips and pulled closer. “I--is it okay if I--?” he asked, voice weak, only a whisper. The sentence wouldn't finish, though kiss you was definitely in his vocabulary. Hyungwon was too far gone, stolen, at his wit's end; however one wanted to put it. Jooheon was just so handsome and soft and adorable.

The younger seemed to understand the implied question, thankfully. He searched Hyungwon’s eyes for a long moment, before nodding slowly.

Leaning down slightly, Chae Hyungwon met Lee Jooheon’s lips with his own. They were so soft, and as heavenly as he had imagined. If the saxophonist was an ocean, he'd gladly drown. Almost like he would, his arms snaked around Jooheon’s torso, holding onto him for dear life. Something warm and wet touched his mouth; automatically, lips parted to let in the other’s tongue. His own returned the greeting with shy caresses. Everything was so warm and peaceful and passionate. Hyungwon hoped that the younger was like him, wishing it’d never end. Almost before he realized what he was doing, Hyungwon’s hand was at the hem of Jooheon’s dress shirt. Slipping underneath, it found the soft, bare skin just above his ass, and the ridge of his spine.

At the touch, Jooheon gasped and broke their kiss, his grip tightening on Hyungwon’s thigh. Startled by what he thought was a rejection, the tall boy’s eyes widened, and briefly, panic mode took over. Truly, he hadn't meant to go that far, at least yet. He had been too lost in the moment, though, and in the feeling of holding the younger. No doubt, he'd broken whatever spell they had between them, if there even was one in the first place. “Oh--I’m sorry, Jooheonie.” He murmured and flushed red. Hyungwon turned away toward the TV screen, where the game was waiting, asking if they were still there.

Then, a hand cupped his jaw, applying gentle pressure and pulling him back. All at once, lips crashed into his again. It was Jooheon now who wanted the affection, kissing the tall boy like there was no tomorrow. His eyebrows knit together, and he was breathing deeply but unsteadily. Hyungwon could have melted into the floor.

They could have stayed there forever that time, but eventually they broke for air. Panting, they eyed each other hungrily. When the feeling of Jooheon’s lips and tongue on his own was a ghost, Hyungwon finally realized that the hand that wasn’t lingering on his cheek was on his hip. The saxophonist's thumb rubbed slow circles on the waistband of his jeans.

“Look, Hyungwon…” Jooheon sighed. “I like when you touch me. You don’t have to apologize. Ah...actually…” the younger narrowed his eyes seductively and bit his lip. Smaller hands slid into Hyungwon’s. “I wouldn't mind if you did it again.”

Hyungwon was a goner. He dived in for another kiss, gripping the blond’s waist harder this time. In moments, Jooheon was climbing into his lap, straddling him, pushing his tongue deeper. A soft whine slipped out as Hyungwon reached up to undo the top button of his concert black. “Don’t worry, baby, I’m just making this easier,” the tall boy whispered through their liplock, and pulled Jooheon’s shirt up and over his head. Everywhere Hyungwon's slender hands wandered, a trail of gooseflesh seemed to follow. A burning desire consumed him to explore every inch of that sexy, well-knit body.

Soon, the older dared to go lower; his hands settled open on Jooheon's waist and teased at his belt buckle. In response, the saxophonist's breathing picked up. How was it that he was already so sensitive and beautiful? What had Hyungwon done in past lives to have him at his fingertips? His touch wandered back up to play with a perky nipple. Jooheon gasped at this, and his teeth sank into Hyungwon's lower lip. The pain made him flinch, but unexpectedly, his cock stirred, too. Now they were both voicing exactly how the other made them feel. If someone heard through the walls, neither could care less.

A shaky, more uncertain, desperate, even, pair of hands slipped up the hem of the older boy's tee. He loved it, reveling in the fact that Jooheon wanted him this much. "W--Wonnie, I wanna--touch, too." Hyungwon couldn't resist a plea like that and consented, even helping to get the cotton off. Once they threw the shirt to the wayside, Jooheon's arms were back around Hyungwon's middle.

When they next broke, the fog of lust clouded their eyes. By now, both their mouths were swollen and red, too. Jooheon slowly scanned Hyungwon's face, and frowned, tenderly swiping a finger across his injured bottom lip. "I got you pretty good..."

"Yeah, you did. But I'd let you do it all the time if you kissed me afterwards." The salty taste of blood trickled onto Hyungwon's tongue from the wounds inside his mouth. That didn't matter now, though. He found himself wanting, needing Jooheon more and more as the seconds passed.

Doubtless, the platinum blond must have been thinking the same thing. All at once, there was a palm pressing against Hyungwon's growing bulge, stroking it up and down. The friction was delicious, and the tall boy threw his head back, mouth opening in euphoria. Lips softly suckled spots onto his neck. He couldn't do anything but pull Jooheon closer. The younger instinctively pushed himself down farther onto Hyungwon, his erection obvious through his dress slacks.

Then, fingers skimmed the plane of Hyungwon's abs. Down, down they wandered, clearing the waistbands of his jeans and underwear. Shivers of pleasure coursed through him as they proceeded to wrap around his hardening length. Jooheon's slow tugs were so good. What was better, though, was the sound of the younger's heaving pants. Clearly, his own actions were affecting him, too.

"Wait," Hyungwon barely managed to murmur, keeping his head on for a last minute.

"What is it, Wonnie?"

"Bed--would be more comfy."

Jooheon seemed to agree, and nodded. He glanced behind him and backed up. The taller boy missed him immediately, and not just because he no longer had a hand on his needy cock. Shakily, he got up from the floor and steadied himself. Lips parted, he blinked and spent a moment admiring the beautiful white haired boy.

Something burned in the younger's eyes, and it excited Hyungwon to no end. Jooheon approached, drawing close again to plant a chaste kiss on the taller boy's lips and hook an arm underneath his ass. “Jump.” The command floated softly out of his mouth, irresistible, and Hyungwon obeyed. For a moment the older thought he'd hit the floor, but didn’t. Jooheon managed to catch Hyungwon's weight and stabilize himself. With a determined effort, he headed in the direction of the back hallway.

“Second door on the left,” Hyungwon muttered, half-gone already. He laved his tongue down the side of Jooheon’s neck, under his ear, and this made them both shiver. The tall boy was getting painfully hard at this point. His thoughts drifted to everything he wanted to do to the sexy piece of man carrying him. Of course, that did not help his problem at all.

All Jooheon had to do was lean into the door, and it swung open. The tiny room that greeted them, with a queen-size bed, white sheets, and a checkered comforter, was cozy home, sweet home. Carefully, the blond set them down on the edge of the mattress. Hyungwon crawled backwards, pulling Jooheon along by the neck. Their kiss never broke as the latter crawled up onto the open, waiting lap again. Hyungwon thought he was about to go crazy, with their bulges rubbing together. Jooheon even had the audacity to start grinding into him.

Eventually, they parted, a trail of saliva stretching between them. Jooheon smiled, and wordlessly ducked down for Hyungwon's collarbone. At the same time, he set a hand on the older's chest and pushed him down flat on the bed. His pretty lips left a blooming red trail on the skin as he kissed down the long, lean body of the tall boy. When he was at Hyungwon’s navel, he grinned blindingly and lapped at it, rimming the hole like it was another, farther down.

“F--Fuck, Jooheonie,” Hyungwon whined impatiently. He craved something, anything, around his aching cock. "Haven't you teased me enough already?”

“Wow, hyung, so needy.” Somehow, the low chuckle that followed filled Hyungwon with fire. Jooheon turned them both more toward the center of the bed. The older reached behind him to grab a pillow for his head and neck. He swore he had never heard a more satisfying sound than the pop of his jeans button. The saxophonist pulled them clean off, along with Hyungwon's boxers, and the cloth slid off the end of the mattress, neglected. Cool air met hot flesh as the tall boy's hard length flopped against his belly. That sensation alone made him moan something fierce.

Jooheon stopped for a moment to admire the sight. Pink tongue darted out to lick his lips; almost eagerly, he bent over to plant kisses on Hyungwon’s dick. His rewards were deep moans and precome. “Look at you, Wonnie...so beautiful like this…would you like my mouth?”

Though the words were quiet, Hyungwon didn't lose a single one. He ran a hand through his hair and nodded desperately. The blond smiled, picking him up in his palm and giving the head a kitten lick. The tip of his tongue scooped some of the slick, clear precome off. Jooheon hummed in surprised contentment at his first salty taste of Hyungwon. Then he glanced up and locked gazes with the older. Somehow, he never broke eye contact as he wrapped his lips around the tip and slowly began to bob his head. With every pass, Jooheon took in more of the long length.

"F--fuck, Jooheon." Indescribable feelings rushed through Hyungwon, overwhelming him with pleasure. Every ounce of willpower that wasn't lost to the sinful wet, velvety feeling was struggling to keep his hips from bucking. His ex never paid attention to him like this, preferring to let Hyungwon do the dirty work. Now, the tall boy knew why. Jooheon's lips and tongue and throat all in combination had him ascending to a higher level of heaven. It was so wet and warm and better than anything else he had ever experienced. If his own mouth was half as good as this…

Jooheon’s ass wiggled in the air, and he gave a low whine. Instantly, the older boy understood. The saxophonist was searching for friction from his own thighs, but having little success. Guilt swept through Hyungwon. All of a sudden, the idea of getting sucked off wasn't appealing anymore. "Baby...come back up here, won't you?"

Hyungwon got a chance to taste himself when their lips crashed together again. It was a good flavor, and that it mixed well with Jooheon's sweet mouth somehow made it even better. They laid together for a while, making out. Hyungwon's bony hip provided some relief for the younger, but he clearly needed more.

“Jooheon-ah…let me take care of you.” Hyungwon rolled over on top of the blond, and tugged at his slacks. “Off.” The other didn’t hesitate to obey, fingers fumbling to undo his belt. While he worked on that, Hyungwon reached over and opened the drawer of his nightstand. Some lube and a box of condoms were inside, and he grabbed that and a silver foil packet. Then he turned his attention back to the sexy boy whose legs he was between. Jooheon was struggling to get the fabric off from his ankles, and so Hyungwon helped. Now all there was between them were Jooheon’s briefs, and Hyungwon’s breath hitched in his throat. A pink tinged the beautiful white-haired man’s cheeks, and his eyes batted in anticipation. The wet spot in the cotton fabric, where his tip was, grew ever so slightly bigger by the moment.

At the same time, their hands reached down for the last remaining waistband. Fingers tangled together, and in it; Jooheon’s skin was hot and smooth as they dragged it down. The younger went as far as his arm would reach before letting Hyungwon do the rest.

“So perfect,” Hyungwon murmured in awe, taking hold of Jooheon’s erection for the first time. Long, low moans slipped the younger’s mouth as he gave it a few good tugs. Hyungwon had never seen such a pretty cock, red and flushed and perfectly proportioned. Desire overtook him to see it twitch and release as he was balls-deep inside it’s owner’s ass.

Neither could breathe for a moment as the older boy popped open the lube and beaded some on his fingers. He made sure they were good and coated before rubbing around that pretty hole. Then he stuck a finger inside. “A--Ah,” Jooheon gasped, mouth falling open, eyes fluttering shut. When Hyungwon added a second digit, the blond squirmed, trying to fuck himself deeper. “So good, Wonnie.”

The taller didn’t say anything, just kept carefully prepping him. Soon, he felt comfortable enough to put in a third. When he crooked them within Jooheon's tight hole, he hit a nice spot. The younger’s back arched up off the bed, and he gasped loudly.

When Hyungwon pulled out, the saxophonist whimpered, impatient. “Hurry, Wonnie,” he begged, as the older boy tore open the condom, rolled it on himself, and rubbed on another coat of lube for good measure.

“And you said I was needy,” Hyungwon chuckled, pressing his cock to the waiting ring of muscle. Then he leaned forward, and was inside, Jooheon’s walls squeezing him in all the right places. “Shit,” Hyungwon hissed. “Still so perfect.” A small smile grew on Jooheon’s face, and he reached up for a lingering kiss.

Hyungwon started to move, treating the younger to long, firm strokes. Occasionally, he'd change angles, searching for that perfect spot. It didn’t take long at all, and he knew when Jooheon’s legs wrapped around his waist. Hands scrabbled for a hold on his back, too, and the younger became decidedly more vocal.

That beautiful cock called to him, begging him to touch again. Or perhaps it was his brain and hand that gave the order. In any case, he wrapped his hand around it and pumped, even as he kept rocking into Jooheon. The saxophonist was too far gone even to kiss by this point. Hyung, hyung, was one of the only discernible things falling from his lips. One couldn't pin it down as the beginning of the older’s name; yet, it wasn't totally based off the honorific, either.

Soon, Jooheon tensed, and giving a cry, came all over his own cute belly. “Good, good boy,” Hyungwon murmured, continuing to pepper wet kisses on the younger’s jaw. He stroked him through the high (and then extra, so Jooheon trembled, overstimulated). Then Hyungwon, too, let himself go, filling the condom.

They held their position briefly, both feeling spent and close to sleep. Hyungwon brushed at Jooheon’s forehead, cleaning away locks of hair and receiving a fond, dimpled smile in return. However, there was still a mess to clean, and his strength would give out soon. So, Hyungwon pulled out and reached for a nearby box of Kleenex. Grabbing two, he proceeded to clean up Jooheon’s tummy. Afterwards, he removed the latex sleeve on his own length. It only took a few seconds to tie it and toss toward a nearby trash can, along with the soiled tissues.

He gladly let the younger boy snuggle into his chest as they finally settled down together. Hyungwon felt happy and peaceful, and he hoped Jooheon did, too. “Sleep well, sweet dreams,” Hyungwon said, yawning and knowing he wouldn’t last much longer.

“You too, Hyungwon-ah.” Jooheon’s murmur was barely audible, but the vibrations stirred the older’s heart. “Goodnight.”

Hyungwon woke to the mattress dipping, and a warm body sliding back under the comforter, next to him. A gentle “Hyungwon-ah,” called him back from the borders of dreamland. The scent of coffee wafted through the air. As his senses came awake, a familiar hand mussed his hair. “Wake up, Hyungwon-ah.” At long last, his eyes fluttered open to the sight of a handsome dimpled face beside him in bed, deep brown eyes sparkling and grin radiant as the sun. Jooheonie. So that hadn’t all been a dream. The older boy’s heart fluttered in his chest, just like it had the first time he saw who he had run into at the festival.

“Morning, sleepyhead.” Jooheon gave Hyungwon a peck on the forehead. “I’ve got coffee brewing, and I’m making rice to go with the Kimchi in the fridge, too.”

“Aww, come on, can’t it wait a few more minutes?” The slender boy caught Jooheon’s lips and pulled him closer, hooking an arm around his waist. “I like having you here in bed with me--”

“Not that I don’t want to say yes, hyung.” Jooheon fidgeted with his hands. “But I don’t want to lose my job, and I already let us sleep in.”

There was a moment of silence, before Hyungwon sighed. “Oh. Right.” Shaking his head, he let the white haired boy go, and turned, sitting up on his side of the bed. The thought of having to take Jooheon back to college hurt, though he knew it shouldn’t. This was a one night thing all along. They had a single evening to get to know each other. They could let the relationship go where it may, pull their hearts and minds around like ragdolls. Unfortunately, though, the next morning, it was back to their separate lives.

The tall boy hurried through his shower, and soon joined Jooheon out in the kitchen. The rice wasn’t quite ready, so he stood at the stove with the saxophonist. Hyungwon’s long noodle arms wrapped around Jooheon’s waist, and his chin rested on his shoulder. Every now and then, Jooheon would go to the wall outlet to check his phone. Sheepishly, he explained that though his friends had insisted on it, he had completely forgotten to charge the stinkin' thing the night before. “I would have called them if you turned out to be a creep,” Jooheon admitted, a red blush spreading across his cheeks. “But you’re not, of course.”

“I’m glad.” Hyungwon chuckled and patted the younger’s bare belly.

Not too long afterwards, they were at the table, settling down for a small meal. Despite the shift in Hyungwon’s mood, a steady conversation still flowed between them. How they liked their coffee, whose mother’s Kimchi was better. They both ate their fill, and got up and around. Hyungwon did dishes while the younger man gathered his things. They had to leave pretty soon if they wanted to make it back to Jooheon’s college town by one o’clock. And indeed, soon they were off, side by side in the front seat of Hyungwon’s car. The only stop they needed was to at the gas station, to fill up quick.

Most of the three-hour ride passed in relative silence. Hyungwon kept his eyes firmly on the road and wondered what the hell he should do. He really liked Jooheon, and it made his heart hurt that their time together was almost over. Every moment with the blond had been perfection, not just the sex, even though it was mind-blowing, too. Did Jooheon feel the same way? Hyungwon was afraid that asking the saxophonist to be his boyfriend would be too forward. What if Jooheon said no? It wasn’t necessarily the end of the world, but Hyungwon knew that then, it was more likely he’d lose interest soon after. That was the absolute last thing he wanted, for Jooheon to exit his life as abruptly as he had arrived.

“Hyungwon-ah?” Jooheon asked, gently, from the passenger’s side.

“Yes, Jooheonie?”

“The landscape around here is beautiful, huh?” The younger boy glanced out the window, resting his chin on his palm. As they were getting closer to Jooheon’s college town, the geography was getting hillier. Strips of pine and deciduous trees grew on the slopes. It was fall, so the former stayed fresh while the latter changed. The difference speckled the world in dark greens, bright yellows, and firey oranges.

Hyungwon took it all in, and nodded. “Yeah, yeah, it is.” A soft smile grew on his face, As he was momentarily distracted from his train of thought.

(If he would have glanced over, he would have seen a certain, beautiful boy not paying so much attention to the colors anymore. Instead, his lingering gaze rested on the other’s face.)

Finally, they pulled up to the front of the dorms. There was even thirty minutes to spare before Jooheon had to rush off to work. The younger boy stretched and gave a slight, happy smile over to Hyungwon. “Thank you for everything.” He had planned on leaving it just like that, so his heart wouldn’t be so disappointed. It was inevitable, he'd have to leave the older alone. However, it wasn’t to be so. As he went to kick the door open and slide out, Hyungwon grabbed him by the arm. “Wait.”

“Mmhm?” Jooheon turned and smiled.

“Ah--I um, I was hoping…” The older boy rubbed the back of his head sheepishly. “If it wouldn’t be too much, could we...keep in touch?”

The saxophonist couldn’t help but let some joy slip out in his face and eyes. “Of course! Here, let me give you my number.” He grabbed Hyungwon’s phone from where it was sitting in the cupholder, and tapped into contacts, adding a new one. “There we go.”

Hyungwon seemed happy and relieved. “Awesome. Well--ah--” Suddenly, a soft palm caressed the younger’s cheek. Hyungwon leaned in and pulled him in for a kiss, one that Jooheon felt like melting into. “Take care, Jooheon.”

“Yeah, you too, Hyungwon.” They were both blushing like mad, and a spark of hope and excitement ignited within them. Soon, they’d be able to meet again, and they’d wait however long it took.

#Monsta X fanfiction #Monsta X scenario #Monsta X #Hyungheon #Jooheon #Hyungwon #Lee Jooheon #Chae Hyungwon #sorry for the tooth rotting fluff >////< but I am a sof

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toby-stephens · 7 years

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JANUARY 2017 : TOBY NEWS

‘Black Sails’ reaches its conclusion with Season 4 airing on Starz this month.

Filming in ongoing for ‘Lost in Space’ in Vancouver, Canada. ‘Lost in Space’ will air on Netflix sometime during 2018.

TOBY SIGHTINGS:

Toby was seen in Vancouver on January 21st when he joined the Women’s March expressing solidarity in protest of the inauguration of Trump (this Blog will remain apolitical - I say nothing, except Way to Go Toby!!!!).

IN TOBY’S OWN WORDS:

On ‘Black Sails’:

“Season 4 is the culmination of the whole story - it’s really how Flint’s grand plan of defeating England comes to an end and also how Silver of the series becomes Long John Silver of Treasure Island, and the death of the golden age of piracy. It’s huge. I think every season gets bigger and bigger and this is an incredibly satisfying season for the fans.”

“The whole thing has been a labour of love and Starz have really put everything behind this project. They wanted it to look as good as it could be and be as epic as it could be and the creators John Stein and Roger Devine wrote these incredible stories. It was painstaking and arduous but when you look at the season afterwards you see that it was really worthwhile. And I think this will be one of those series that people will come back to or they will discover in time and and it will always….the production values are of such a high standard and the writing is such a high standard; and what I love about it particularly is the fact that it breaks down the shackles of its own genre. I remember when I first started doing the show and first started publicising the show after the first season, almost every interview I did people are sort of seeing it as a pirate show and they were doing all the comic ‘aaarrrr’ and all that stuff and talking about parrots and stuff and you were going yeah I get what you’re doing but this isn’t really about that. This is not just about pirates it’s about characters, very sophisticated story telling and it also has parallels to now - all of this stuff talks to people now so it has political connotations and stuff that make it very very interesting.”

“What made it worthwhile for me, cos this was a tough job, it was unrelenting, and it was tough hours and you were in tough conditions, it wasn’t like doing a cop shop - you’re facing seas, you’re on sets, you’re in these costumes, you're doing very physical set pieces, but what made it worthwhile was the sophistication of the writing. Like for example in Season 3 - John Stein, I remember him saying basically I’m modelling Flint’s journey on the Odyssey on Osideum and it also had tones of Moby Dick in there. It’s using sophisticated literature and physiology to create this world and these characters and I can’t ask for more really to have somebody that’s giving me that complexity to act with and to work with. What would have been awful was if it had been some sort of sloppy pirate show that would have been torture to have been in that 4 seasons cos it wouldn’t have been about very much . But ‘Black Sails’ is so much more that just the pirate genre and peg legs - it’s got soul.”

“‘Black Sails’ is one of those jobs where I had to keep on going - you got to remember this because this is one of those unique experiences, you have to enjoy this, because it was tiring but the thing was so unique and you have to enjoy those experiences when they happen, cos they don’t happen that often.”

Source: This Week in America with Ric Bratton; podomatic.com; 12 Jan 2017

“The end season is really the culmination of the whole series. So it basically tells the story of the friendship and partnership between Captain Flint and Silver, and how Long John Silver became the Long John Silver of the series.”

“It’s been an enormous - 4 seasons - its been huge journey, it’s been fantastic working with such a complex character, a dark character, but complex. It’s fantastic. I didn’t actually know where the story was going to end so it’s been a voyage of discovery for me really about where this character goes, how this story ends.“ “I think they will. I think what’s great is…everybody knows the golden age of piracy came to an end but this tells how it came to an end and also you know how Silver becomes the character in Treasure Island so it connects it through to Treasure Island. After you watch this series you look at Treasure Island in a completely different way than you did before and that will be very satisfying.”

“I’m already missing being in South Africa, where we filmed it because I got to be in summer during winter so I’m missing that a lot. But also I’m also missing all the people I worked with. It was such a fantastic job it’s so unique that you get on with everybody, everybody loved one another and you also get to do such fantastic writing. I got to play such a great character that was complex, i got these great scenes to do as an actor, but at the same time I got to do all the action which was very gruelling but incredibly satisfying as an actor.”

“I will miss ‘Black Sails’ a lot and I will miss playing Captain Flint.”

Source: Good4Utah.com; 13 Jan 2017

“It’s a tragedy, basically. The whole thing is a tragedy, because it’s about the dream of this man to lead this kind of emancipation of the pirate world and the slaves, and all of this stuff.”

“So we know it doesn’t end well. His dreams don’t come to fruition, but most importantly, what happens to Flint at the end of that, and how does the Silver of that become the eponymous Long John Silver of Treasure Island? How does this person become that, and what happens to their partnership and their friendship?”

“But also you see with Silver, it’s a tragedy because what has he become?. He becomes this sad sort of guy who ends up in Treasure Island, kind of conniving his way back to this place. Everybody else has died, the golden age of piracy is over, and he fails to get the treasure. He fails to get what he wants. And also what this series sort of tries to create is why does he want the treasure? Is it purely for avarice, is it purely self-serving, or are there other motives for that?”

“The complexity of it is that it’s not really for altruistic reasons, or exclusively for altruistic reasons. It’s really his own psychodrama he’s playing out and his own kind of revenge, and you know that it’s not going to end well, but I hope that the fans will be happy with the way of seeing it come to its climax.”

“I don’t know if that would ever happen. There would have to be some separation of that, because Black Sails has been such an epic drama. Compared to what happens in Black Sails, not much happens in Treasure Island!”

“I think leaving it like that is much more interesting than going whole hog and doing another version of Treasure Island but through Black Sails. I actually think leaving it here is better in a way.”

“I think he’d go, ‘Well of course that’s what happened to them.’ They’ve become like fantasy monsters, they’re fantasized, but once you do that, you rob them of what they were. They become something that’s manageable. They’re in children’s books, they become something that’s cardboard.”

Source: denofgeek.com; 26 January 2017

“This season is inevitably the endgame of the relationship, primarily the relationship between Silver and Flint. You know, when Flint’s vision of the New World will be realized. This kind of revolution and emancipation of the pirates and slaves from the kind of evil empire of England. Whether that’s going to happen.”

“The thing is, we know that it doesn’t happen, so we are adding some tragedy, but it’s really about how Flint and Silver will operate together, and what will happen to their relationship, because you know that Silver is going to be compromised at some point because he has this care for the crew, which Flint is always willing to compromise. He’s always like “the end excuses the means,” you know, and Silver is like, “we can’t do that because it’s killing everybody.” So you know there is going to be some point where it’s going to break down. This season really charts that.”

“I really enjoy it, because what’s great is you take the audience with you. It’s that complicated relationship, the audience to Flint. It’s not an easy one. They want to like him and they do kind of admire him, but at the same time they are appalled by him and troubled by him. But the great thing about the way John Steinberg and Robert Levine shaped this character is that he is so human. I’m really interested to see how the audiences react to the end of this series because of where they are left and what they think of Flint. In the end, what is so great is that he is so human. He’s a human character.”

“He’s true to himself. There’s a kind of purity that he is so unrelenting, you know what I mean? In this last season, where the wheels come off and it ends up coming to pieces, it’s really hard, I hope for our audiences, to watch that, to watch this person that they’ve followed all this time, that it comes to an end game. In the course of his relationship with Silver he cedes power to Silver willingly. He needs an accomplice. I think that’s something he learns about himself. He needs somebody to be partnered with and Silver becomes the ultimate person. He’s had Thomas, he’s had Mrs. Barlow, and then finally it’s Silver. In the end, that the sort of love of his life really. Not in a romantic way, but he’s found his match. He sort of ceded power to him, but once you cede that power you can’t get it back. It’s about the ascent of Silver and the descent of Flint.”

“I have mixed feelings. Primarily, I was kind of relieved in a way. Four years is a long time to spend with a character, and especially in this kind of show, because it’s so exacting. It’s a very physical show and a very arduous show and it was tough shooting it. I’m incredibly proud of what we achieved, and also I’m really glad that it came to a coherent ending.

It wasn’t lopped off in some sort of “we’re going to pull the show.” The ending feels right. I don’t think there’s much more we could have done with this, you know? We’ve done everything. And also you’re caught in a spiral of every season needs to be bigger. You don’t want to get to the point where it’s so operatic and ridiculous that it’s lost its center. I think this last season is epic and satisfying, but it holds itself together.”

Source: pastemagazine.com; 26 January 2017

“I think it’s the fact that everybody put everything on the line. Starz really put themselves behind this, financially. The creators really wrote and created such an amazing show. The production standards were amazing. All of the actors turned up, every day, and gave it their all. It’s been such a great ride, in terms of the fact that we’ve made such a complex show that is very satisfying, in so many different ways. It’s a complicated story with complex characters, that takes place against this very complex backdrop of history. It’s been such a great ride.”

“I think I’ll miss the comraderie of it all, with the writers and creators, Jonathan [Steinberg], Robert [Levine] and Dan [Shotz]. I loved working with them and working with their material, and working with all of the actors on set. That really was the most enjoyable stuff, and that’s what makes Flint work. Flint lived within the context of the show. It’s been so brilliant, bringing him to life, in that context and with all of those people helping me to do it.”

“Well, we know that it’s tragedy because the revolution and the emancipation that Flint wants didn’t happen. And Silver ends up being this tragic figure in Treasure Island, who connives his way back to Treasure Island, and then ends up not even getting the treasure at the end of that. And the Golden Age of Piracy ended, so we know that it doesn’t end well. It’s just about, how does it end? This season really is the endgame for all of that. It’s also about the relationship between Silver and Flint, and how that plays out. What happens to Flint, and how does Silver become Long John Silver of Treasure Island?”

“The thing about Flint is that he’s playing out his own psycho-drama on a massive canvas. It’s motivated not by altruistic reasons of wanting to emancipate all these people. It’s really that he wants revenge on England for doing what it did to him. What started out as a loose ambition of, “Oh, we’ll just have skirmishes on the edge of it and slap them in the face, once in awhile,” has become something that could possibly actually rock the world. It’s become something that has scale and could be something that compromises England, in a serious way, but that doesn’t happen, for whatever reason. It’s gone from being a dream to something that could be reality, before that reality is smashed, for whatever reason.”

“Yeah, there is a character that ends up being truly loyal to Flint, and it’s wonderful. In the last few episodes, one of the characters comes into the fore that’s been in the background, and it’s interesting to see what happens there.”

“No, I didn’t, and I never wanted to. In a way, I carry Flint in my head, and I carry the experience in my head. I didn’t want to do that. I’ve done it on other jobs. I’ve taken little bits and pieces to remember them by, but they end up gathering dust on a shelf, and you end up throwing them away, after awhile. I didn’t want to do that with this. I just want to hold it in my head, really. It will be one of those memories that I’ll always come back to and go, “That was a wonderful experience.” It was one of those things where I had to constantly remind myself how lucky I was to be involved in the whole thing because there were times where I was incredibly tired and fed up with it all. It was just a really tough job, but then, you look at it and go, “Yeah, but I am incredibly lucky to be doing what I want to do, in this job, working with such great people and on such a wonderful character.”

“Yeah, there’s a load of that, and it was really grueling and tough for everybody. I have two legs. Poor Luke Arnold had to do it with crutches. It’s really tough. The costumes, the heat, and all of that stuff made it really brutal. And it was constantly shifting and changes, so the challenges were always shifting and changing. One season, it was doing a massive hurricane sequence, where you’re two weeks on a boat with people spraying water in your face. And then, the next time, you have a massive battle in the woods. And then, you have a massive battle on the sea and you have to grapple with getting on to other boats. It was constantly shifting and changing, and on top of that, you had loads of dialogue and acting to do, as well, which is incredibly satisfying, but also very taxing.”

“No, I was always really happy when they brought the stuntman in. I was like, “Thank god, I don’t have to do that!” By the end, it was like, “Get the stunt guy in! I can’t do that!” All of the fights that we did, they always put in the stunt guy to do certain shots, but you’d end up having to do like 99% of it yourself. There weren’t really that many things that I didn’t actually do. I wish there’d been more!”

Source: collider.com; 29 January 2017

Toby on Luke Arnold:

“This epitomised to me the series - it ,was when Zack McGowan broke Darryls’ one of the stunt guys, jaw. It was funny. It wasn’t Zack’s fault, cos this stunt guy Darryl, fantastic stunt man, but very enthusiastic, and we were in the middle of this fight and he said I want you to really hit me with the butt of that gun, don’t worry, because it’s rubber, it’s a rubber gun it’s not going to hurt me OK. And Zack was like, ‘Dude really, you want me to hit you with this thing.’ And he went yeah absolutely the rifle butt just smash it in here it’s going to look fantastic. So we do the next take and Zack who’s brilliant at this kind of thing, whacked him straight in the jaw, as the guy asked and totally broke his jaw. It looks fantastic and it looked brilliant and I remember at the end Darryl going, no. it’s fine it’s ok.”

Source: editorial.rottentomatoes.com; 26 Jan

Toby on ‘Lost in Space’:

“It’s gonna be a lot of fun and very different from Black Sails. What’s nice is that I’m playing a complex character, but somebody who’s, in a way, a lot more simplistic than Flint. He’s just in a very difficult situation.”

“It’s a very clever, modern reworking of a great story. ‘Lost in Space’ is Swiss Family Robinson in space, so it was a story that existed before ‘Lost in Space’. The fundamental story is that it’s a family that is lost in a difficult, life-threatening situation and how it challenges them and brings them closer together. That is essentially what the story of this is, it’s just the context is a lot more modern. It’s a more modern take on the ‘60s version. If you look at it now, it’s charming, but it seems so innocent. Whereas this is a version that is for our time. I’m hoping it will still have humor and humanity in it, but it has obviously gotta be for a modern audience.”

“I think it’s equally as big, just in a different way. It’s spaceships and planets that aren’t like ours and spacesuits. It’s going to be really fun like that.”

Source: collider.com; 17 January 2017

#Toby Stephens #Black Sails #Lost in Space

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donaldresslerfanfic · 7 years

Text

Vault.

Rating: M

Warnings: Strong Language (little bit)

Word Count: 3026

Donald Ressler X OC Maggie Waters.

Chapter: Four.

Chapter Index

Story on Wattpad

Ressler.

I was writing down the report of the findings on the house to deliver to my superiors.

Another week had passed, and so far we had the warrant and the walls were slowly coming down, we had to be careful not to take any possible evidence behind them, but the more walls came down, the more anxious I got. Reddington could be on the other side of the globe at this point.

The more of the house we uncovered the less we found, I was ready to start looking in another direction when Bobby called me.

“Please tell me you have something”

“Oh, it’s something alright, a big fucking something. I need you at the house now”

I hung up and got up from my desk, leaving the report unfinished.

When I arrived at the house I pulled out my badge in a mechanical move, and the armed men outside let me in.

When I walked, there were only the frames still up, the walls had been completely stripped, and I saw it.

A big metal box in the middle of the house, matching where the rooms had been narrowed down to fit it.

I walked around it to find the door of it look like the one out of a bank vault. What was Reddington hiding in there?

“I know, ‘what the hell’ right?”

“How did he got there on here?” The box appeared to be 7 feet squared, as tall as the ceiling. “What are the specs on this thing?”

“That’s what I’m onto now. Unfortunately the company that built the box are from Switzerland, and a representative can come in three days”

“The case is going to get cold in three days. I need to get in there”

“Unless you know a bank robber that can break into that vault I’m out of options Donnie.”

I placed my hands on my hips and paced the room, looking down at the floor.

Maggie.

“I need a warrant, blueprints, services charts of water, gas and electricity, a consultant pass, and I need you to set up someone to watch the security cameras from the time this house went up for sale onwards. I want to know the exact time for when this things could’ve been installed here. And I need it all within the hour”

I began to walk down the empty house to the front door

“Where are you going?” I heard Bobby speak from behind me

“To get us an expert”

On the way to Maggie’s house I called my man at the blacksite to get me her work address and a full background check. Her house phone wasn’t picking up, so I headed straight to her workplace.

I entered the neat and bright building and walked to the receptionist

“Welcome to Bronton Security how can I help you?” She said with a smile, I fished my badge from the inner pocket in my jacket and flipped it open to identify myself.

“I’m looking for Margaret Waters, tell her it’s an emergency”

She widened her eyes, looking for her phone and dialing.

“Tell her it’s Donald Ressler”

“Hey Maggie, I’m sorry to bother you but Donald is here? Ressler?” She paused then smiled “I’ll take him to you then”

She hung up and stood up to lead me.

We went through a set of doors, then through some cubicles of people working with computers to the left, a meeting room to the right. She stopped at one of the closed doors and knocked quietly.

Maggie opened the door and smiled at the receptionist, making a signal to make me enter the office

“Thank you Brenda, I’ll see him out” Brenda smiled and with a little bow she left the office.

Maggie closed the door and turned to me. Before she opened her mouth I took out my badge again.

“Maggie, listen. I’m with the FBI and” she gasped and took the ID from my hands

“I fucking knew it” she let out another gasp and looked at the ID “oh my God” she licked her lips “victory tastes so good” she let out a happy laugh and flipped the ID to me “Donald Ressler FBI.” She said imitating my voice tone "Are you an agent?“

“Special agent” I took the ID from her hands and put it away.

“You’re like… The coolest dude I know” she took a deep breath and motioned at the chair behind him “what can I help you with, special agent with the FBI Donald Ressler?”

I gave her a smile and rolled my eyes

“What was my tell?”

“The suit, public employee payroll can’t afford that.” she linked her hands in front of her

“I need you to come with me” I motioned at her to the door

“Are you working on a case?” She whispered at me. I nodded “and it’s like… Classified?” I nodded again and opened the door. She gave me a big smile and took a short step to her desk, taking her phone and a colorful summer scarf, dancing it around her neck.

We began to walk out when we were stopped midway.

“Maggie I need the prints for the new safe house, today please” I turned to find an older but still fit men walking to us.

“I’m afraid that’ll have to wait” I said pulling out my ID “I’m special agent Ressler. Miss Waters has just agree to be a consultant for an open case. She needs to come with me”

“Paul Bronton, her boss. What’s this all about? I have deadlines to meet and she’s my best worker”

“I’m afraid I cannot trust that information, it’s classified”

“Tell Gina to get it from my office it’s in the first classifier” she took me by the arm and pulled me away, Mr Bronton gave her a nod and me a suspicious look before turning around and letting us leave.

Once outside I opened the door of my car for her, when I sat at the driver’s side she clapped

“This is the most exciting thing I’ve done in my whole life. Am I really an consultant?”

“Yes” I replied and began driving down “I don’t think I need to tell you that you cannot say anything of what you will see today to anyone. It won’t even serve as a funny anecdote, Maggie. I mean it.”

“Roger that” she gave me a nod and took a deep breath “what’s this all about?”

“We’ll discuss it at the site, it’s better if I show you”

My phone rang, and I picked it up without looking at the number ID.

“Ressler”

“I’ve sent you the warrant to open the safe and background check on Miss Waters.”

I hung up and parked in thee street.

Maggie and I got out of the car, where another agent handed me the consultant pass that I gave to Maggie behind me

“Now you have your own ID to show”

She smiled and pinned it to the pocket of her loose jean dress shirt, underneath it she had a plain white shirt.

“This way” I lead her and we walked inside, I took the tablet with Maggie’s background check. All the info seemed to check out, parents deceased, sister in Rhode Island, recently moved to DC, address matched her current one. A series of red numbers made me frown, under thee credit car information it showed that she owned over 250k in medical bills still, and her paycheck had been seizured by the bank on a 40% to pay the debt.

I looked up to see Maggie in front of the vault, her hand was on her mouth, thoughtful, while the other was crossed on her chest and linked to her elbow.

“And?” I said walking to her, she glanced at me

“It’s a vault”

“That much I know”

“A vault that I would put in a bank, or the one I would put to secure chemical weapons, biological weapons.” She said with her eyebrows rose up. “Who is this guy Donald?”

“It’s a person who has secrets that could put in danger national security if he sold them, which he already has with some. I’ve been at him for years.” I walked to her to stand right next to her “Mags I need to get in there”

She looked at me with a frown, her green eyes searching in my blue ones.

“You want me to open it?”

“Can you?”

She looked at the vault and walked to it, pressing her hand against the metal

“The vault was made by a company in Switzerland am I right?” She looked at me, to which I nodded. “The inner mechanism is to be programmed with the representatives in the states and the owner of the vault, they make the mechanism accord to the level of security the client wants. For me to even attempt to open it I need the manual of the inner mechanism, the closest associate I know is this brand is in Bathesda. The associate goes by the name of Saul Kirkland. The office is called ‘Safe and sound’ or something lame like that. He won’t just give you the manual, you might need a warrant.”

She explained, Jonica had joined us and was listening attentively. When Maggie finished he extended his hand to her, to which she took with a smile.

“Robert Jonica, I’ve been working with Don to catch this son of a bitch for many years now. How do you know all this stuff?”

“It’s what I do for a living. Besides, I wouldn’t recommend this eye sore to my biggest enemy. The exterior can be good, and no matter the level of security a half decent safe intruder could break into this vault in a few minutes. I don’t work with this brand in specific” she crossed her arms at her chest and smiled

“With a look at the manual you can open it?” Jonica asked, she gave him a shrug and then a nod. “I’ll get you that manual”

Maggie smiled at him, and when Jonica left she moved her eyes to me.

“Let me take a look at those prints” she pointed at the desk we had set up in the far corner of the room. She eyed him and let out a hum “I’ll need you to cut out any gas supply there is.”

“Why?”

“If someone told me they want to conceal official, classified, dangerous documents on a safe this big, and told me that by any means it can’t be accessed by someone trying to break into it, what I would do is redirect one of the gas pipes to produce a leak on the inside of the vault, and as soon as the vault is tried to be accessed illegally, it would fire up a spark burning everything inside it. Granted you would loose that information, but it would be better lost than in the wrong hands”

“The person who put them there is the wrong hands, not us”

“That’s not the way he thinks, if he has them, he’s planning to do something you wouldn’t do, because of the moral choice and bureaucracy of the matter. Criminals do not believe in the beauty of 'innocent until proven wrong’. There’s a lot of criminals out there who hide it so well, you could be staring at one right now”

“You’re saying he could have info of things we know are wrong but we wouldn’t touch because there’s protocols and investigations to be done”

“I’m saying there’s a lot or corruption, politics, leaders of organizations, hidden organizations so big you could be under the orders of this kind of people, people who could take you to a different track in a case just to cover their footsteps. Criminals kill this kinds of people and you would put them to jail, access to a parole and have them out to continue their misdeeds in months time.”

“How do you know all this stuff?”

She smiled and shrugged

“I’m working on a tornado shelter of a men who’s a conspiranoic. He’s right about some things and batshit crazy about others. But they put your logic to the test and make you realize you’re naïve. Also, crime shows on Netflix.”

I nodded and looked away, she had leaned on the edge of the desk while I had moved to stand in front of her.

We put her theory to the test and found out that the pipelines had been redirected to the top of the vault. Maggie didn’t think of any other security measures, since she thought that would be enough.

Jonica arrived an hour later, in which we just sat down at the scene and talked, she talked about the new safe house she was designing for a very wealthy buyer.

She received the manual and flipped through it while nodding

“Yeah, it’s still garbage” she closed it “do you have a sharpie?”

I handed one to her from the desk and saw her crouch and draw a perfect straight line in the middle of it, she drew another ones to form a rectangle “This needs to be cut off with extreme caution, an inch of difference could touch the inner mechanism and it goes into lockdown. Someone will have to come and open it with a very specific movement of this spinny deal-io.” She motioned at one of the wheels near the edge of the vault door.

One of my men came with a powerful cutter and cut down the rectangle. Maggie took off her jacker and left in the floor.

“I’m going to need two more pairs of hands” she squeezed her arm in the rectangle and motioned at me to stand in front of a padlock. Jonica stood in front of the wheel. “OK, turn it to 30” she instructed.

I slowly began turning until I reached the 30 mark. She moved her arm and the door made a loud clicking noise.

“Now turn the handle, take the first handle as reference and turn it 20 degrees”

Jonica did as told, she frowned and moved her arm again, the door made another click.

She moved closer to me, I hadn’t noticed she smelled like lavander up until I was mere inches away

“Turn to 38” she instructed

I did, and the door made another clicking sound, this time followed by a second rustle of the metal.

She took her hand out from the hole, her fingers covered in grease. She took Jonica’s place at the wheel, turning it to the side until the door clicked again. She grabbed the handle that was in between us and twisted it upwards, the door clicked again. She then moved the wheel slowly. The room was dead quiet, we heard the faintest click, and then more rustling of the door.

She smiled at me and took the handle, twisting it to it’s original horizontal position and pulled.

The vault door began to open.

A team set up behind me and I drew my gun, aiming at the door, I gave Maggie a quick nod to ask her to continue opening it.

She pulled, taking a few steps back and ending up on the other side of the door, it blocked the view from the inside, to which I was grateful. It was not a pretty sight.

I put my gun away and sighed, aside from the body in an decomposition state, there was nothing else.

“I want to know who this guy is and why is he here.” I pointed and turned to look at Maggie, who was looking wide eyed at me

“Guy? There’s a person in there?!” She asked altered.

I took her gently by the arm and led her out through the back door. Her breathing was labored and she began to shook her head when we reached the front of the house

“Did he really trapped a person in there?!”

“Apparently he did Mags”

“Oh my god” she ran a hand on her hair, then left it on her forehead “what’s he gonna do when he finds out I opened his safe?”

“He will do nothing, not on my watch”

“He trapped a person in there!”

“He was probably a snitch, or someone who double crossed him. You have no connection to any kind of investigation agency and this job you’re doing, I’m leaving it off the records. And if he still thinks he can get to you he will have to come over me first”

Her eyes glued to mine, and a little smile appeared on her face as she let her shoulders down.

One of my men handed me the jacket she had left back at the house, and I held it up for her to put it on

“I’ll drop you home. If anyone asks you were with me the whole day” she fixied her jacket, and I led her back to my car.

The drive to her place was a silent one, maybe I could drop by her work tomorrow and say I need another day with her if she’s not feeling up to go to work.

I parked the car and hoped off to walk Maggie up to her apartment. Once in the door she turned to me and smiled.

“That was fun agent Ressler. How about we repeat it?”

I smiled and shook my head.

“You’ve been of great help today Maggie” I placed my hand on her shoulder “you have no idea what this case means to me.”

“But you didn’t catch him” she said with a disappointed twist on her lips.

“Not yet, but everyday we get one step closer. Someday he’ll have nowhere to run. Thank you Mags, I mean it”

She smiled and placed her hand on top on my forearm, squeezing it and ribbing her fingers over it

“Any time agent”

She unclasped the consultant ID I had given her, I didn’t receive it

“Let’s pretend I did take it back” I pushed her fingers to close them on the card. She smiled and opened the door to her apartment.

Back to the hunt.

#the architect #donald ressler #donald #ressler #the blacklist #the blacklist fanfic #fanfic #elizabeth keen #raymond reddington #diego klatenhoff

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terryblount · 5 years

Text

Devil May Cry 5 Review: So Stylish, Very Thrilling, & Too Dull

Devil May Cry: an epic, polarizing series that began in 2001, had a terrible sequel in 2003, fought back with 2005’s worthy third entry, and then went missing in action-gaming after 2007’s well-received DMC 4. Some 12 years later the series is back to deliver the authentic stylized madness fans have been waiting for. So is DMC 5 worthy? Is it brilliant? Is it a must play? Well, you must read on to find out!

Spectacle Fighters Anatomy & DMC 5

Before I give you my overall opinion, let me explain my perspective on DMC-style games. Games of this genre (often called spectacle fighters) have a basic three-part structure: cutscenes, combat, and levels. That’s basically it, and the quality of the game comes down to how expertly each part is crafted. Let’s break down how well DMC 5 fares in each regard.

DMC 5’s cutscenes are immaculate, with off-the-charts production value. The characters are awe-inspiring, both technologically and personality-wise. Just look at the picture below! The hair, the skin, the clothing. It’s all so perfect, both in still pictures and in motion. The story’s a big mess, but we’ll talk about that later.

Do you see these graphics!? They are crazy good!

The heart of any Devil May Cry is the combat, and DMC 5 does not disappoint. Combat is detailed, precise, nuanced, and oh so flashy. There’s countless diverse ways to kill with style and grace, and it’ll take a good 30 or 40 hours to truly master the vast arsenal of weapons, skills, and combos.

So what do you do when not watching mind-blowing cutscenes and engaging in adrenaline-filled death-matches? You stroll through the world, of course! Sadly, this is where DMC 5 nose-dives into surprisingly weak territory, get stuck in the mire of boring and uninspired level design. There’s also far too few unique environments, with a large recycling of level elements. Not good.

TLDR: My DMC 5 Conclusion

Rather than wait until the end, let me give you my personal conclusion. As the review subtitle says, DMC 5 is so stylish…in cutscenes, very thrilling…in combat, and too dull…in level design (and story). All in all, DMC 5 is a wild ride, but I got off the ride disappointed because it could have and should have been so much more.

This is a thrilling ride with chopping and slashing and much blood and style!

To put it another way, if all you care about is beloved characters and intense combat, DMC 5 delivers hardcore. If you want those beloved characters to actually take part in an epic and powerful story set in an imaginative and memorable world, then DMC 5 will likely ring a bit hollow for you.

Now that you know my ultimate opinion, let me back up all my claims with many more words and fun pictures!

Three-Fold Character Combat: Tri-Awesome

Let’s start with DMC 5’s best element: the delicious combat! There’s three unique characters you play as during your adventure, and each is enjoyable and well-crafted. You might come to favor one character, but I found that each character grew on me as I continued to play, which is is a testament to DMC 5’s superb combat design!

You begin with Nero, whose trick is his special right arm that can transform into many different attacks. Nero also excels at quickly grappling enemies, pulling either the enemy or himself closer. Many of his best attacks don’t come until late in the game (and the next playthrough), but Nero is worthy.

Here’s Nero fighting some scary demonic knights. No problem!

A few hours in you switch to the newcomer, V. V is highly unique, using his computer-controlled minions to attack. I really enjoy the semi-real-time-strategy aspect to V. You give you orders and watch as your minions play out their attacks, all while you personally avoid getting hit. It’s a refreshing change of pace from the “one-man-army” style of the other two characters. Speaking of which…

I call this picture ‘away from smoky reddish-vine in a pretty sky cane-man on black-blue-bird rides o’er beat-up railroad tracks.’ The title could use some work.

Toward the second half of the game you finally get to play the true hero of the series: Dante. It’s been a long time coming for DMC fans, but Dante is back and better than ever. He’s powerful, capable, versatile, and very enjoyable to play as.

Ah, the legendary Dante! And…he’s being given a hat-weapon for hat-attacks. For real!

Dante has a veritable arsenal of long-range and short-range weapons, all easily swappable at any time. He also features four unique modes you can switch between during combat. While all of this may sound like a lot, the controls are simple and quick to learn.

There’s a huge selection of skills to unlock, allowing for tons of combat options.

Despite the diversity of characters and attacks, the main takeaway is how extremely balanced and awesome DMC 5’s character combat system is. So slick. So polished. So good.

Enemies & Bosses: Worthy

There’s not much to say here because DMC 5 delivers exactly what you’d expect from a game of this caliber. There’s an excellent roster of enemies, from simple fodder, to smarter underlings, to flying creatures, to hybrids, and other very deadly assortments. Some might wish for more variety, but what’s here is very good.

This is Dante in one of his powerful forms. I have no idea what’s happening here.

On the boss front, there’s a decent, although not extensive, range of small, mid, and large bosses. Some are bipedal. Some are mostly stationary. A few are the huge smashy-smashy types, while the most lethal are the later-game bosses you must carefully duel, either deftly dodging or dying horribly.

Style Rankings, Playthroughs, & Difficulty

In case you’re new to this type of game, the goal of combat isn’t so much to simply win but to win in style (hence the ‘spectacle fighter’ term)! All your moves gain you style points and the goal is to use a variety of moves to reach the coveted ‘S’ rank and beyond.

Here’s a handy tutorial screen teaching us about ranks. From D to S and beyond!

The higher your rank, the more Red Orbs you acquire, which are used to unlock skills (and revive upon death). It’s a great system that works just as well today as it did so many years ago when first introduced.

Devil May Cry is also known for its multiple playthroughs. The first playthrough is a warm-up. The second is a test of competence. The third is a grueling gauntlet…and those beyond are for you to discover for yourself!

You get a rank for every mission. The better you play, the better your rewards.

It should be noted that DMC 5 is very flexible with game difficulty. You can choose to start on ‘Human’ mode, which is quite easy. You can even turn on ‘Auto’ mode, which will perform cool combos without figuring it out yourself. So whether you’re very bad at these types of game or an old pro, there’s an option for you.

Level Design & World Building: Not Good

Oh boy, this is going to be contentious, but I’ve got to be honest. DMC 5’s level design isn’t good: it’s fairly basic and boring. Far too many levels consist of bland hallways, straight tunnels, and no sense of wild exuberance and style that the characters and combat so cleverly display.

This hotel looks quite nice, but it’s just a few hallways and rooms.

What’s worse, the world-building is pretty dismal in DMC 5. World-building is about immersing the player in a believable world that flows naturally from the game’s setting and story. It’s what makes you feel like you’ve “been there” in a game rather than having just “watched it” in a movie.

Sadly, it was hard for me to get a strong sense of place when playing DMC 5 because the levels seem thrown together haphazardly, rather than connecting to form a plausible world. It feels like the developers picked from a grab-bag of video game levels to be backdrops for their insanely good cutscenes.

We’re in a crypt now because crypts are cool…I guess…no real reason beyond that.

You’ve got a sewer level. There’s a crypt and trainyard. A hotel and a metro. Add in some urban settings for good measure. Why these locations? We’ll never know because none of them play into the actual story. It feels like meaningless filler that we’ve seen in other games ten times over.

Recycling Levels: Not Stylish!

Did I mention the game recycles levels quite often? Sometimes you’ll play the same location as a different character, which feels cheap. The most egregious sin, though, is how many missions (seven of them!) take place in the same sort of organic/plant tileset, with only slight modifications.

Get used to seeing this environment…over and over and over and over…

For a type of environment used in literally a third of the game, these organic/plant locations aren’t attractive. They’re visually and thematically sparse and barren. A couple of these levels even reuse the same exact arena multiple times in a row, and it’s darn boring to have such flashy and fun combat set in the same lame physical spaces.

I can’t help but feel many corners were cut in the level design department of DMC 5. The best thing I can say about the level design is the levels are short, so you don’t have to endure too much monotony.

Here’s a market area, but the produce details aren’t so great…

The Cutscenes: A More Critical Analysis

I’ve already said the quality of the cutscenes is insanely good. The acting and voice-work is all exceptionally well-crafted. DMC 5 delivers hyper-believable choreography and performances, with near-perfect facial and body nuance, and there’s extreme charm and likability to each character, in my opinion.

Something happened and there’s much pain. What I mostly notice are his excellent teeth!

So what’s the problem? While the presentation is gorgeous and mesmerizing, the actual story being woven is less like a vivid tapestry and more like a stale, half-eaten perplexing pretzel. Why is it so bad? For starters, the plot relies far too heavily on happenstance.

There’s a plant-thing that emerges to threaten the city. Why a plant and why now? Nobody knows, but the characters just happen to be where they’re needed. Even more problematic is the terrible narrative framing that harshly cuts back and forth in time, jumbling the story to build artificial suspense. Let’s discuss.

The Story: Jarring Narrative Framing

Instead of telling the story chronologically, the game purposefully cuts up story segments to ensure you’re entirely confused for at least the first half of the game. This method can work if done judiciously and wisely, but DMC 5 is heavy-handed and annoying in its shattering of the story.

Why annoying? The framing style results in several game sections being replayed over and over, as the game slowly reveals new tidbits of story truth. It was about the third or fourth time facing off against the same exact boss in the same exact location in the same exact way that I wanted to scream, “Just get on with it!”

You’ll be seeing this scene so many times. Move on with the story already!

Speaking of story tidbits, DMC 5 does have some quality narrative bits, but they’re just that: bits. There’s a heart-warming scene here or there. Some excellent dialogue brings a tiny dose of backstory and motivation to some characters, and there’s one or two powerful reveals. The problem is all these good tiny bits exist in isolation, never coalescing into a coherent and memorable tale.

Some will not care one iota that DMC 5’s story is such a gorgeous mess. However, as a reviewer, I cannot overlook this. Illogical, broken storytelling was more acceptable back in the early days of Devil May Cry, but in 2019 players should expect more.

Nero’s in a destroyed city because sometimes cities get destroyed I guess.

Moreover, when the prior game in the series delivered such a strong and coherent narrative, it’s not acceptable for the series to take such a huge step backwards. Yes, I’m speaking about the 2013 reboot, DmC: Devil may Cry.

Get your popcorn out because I’m about to do what no sane reviewer should ever do: compare the current beloved game to the prior much-maligned game.

2019’s DMC 5 versus 2013’s Dmc: Devil may Cry

Six years ago the prior Devil May Cry game was released, but it wasn’t a proper sequel. It was a reimagining of the series, a reboot both in character and spirit. There was a large and understandable uproar from hardcore DMC fans who’d been waiting 5 years for a continuation of the original Dante & Crew story.

People love the Dante with a rocket launcher, not the scrawny one from 2013.

Despite the fury over the reboot and reimagining of Dante, DmC went on to be one of the best spectacle fighters ever made, and it still holds up today. The combat is intense and cerebral. The story is relevant, engaging, and well-told. The level design is lavishly creative.

But don’t just take my word for it! DMC 5’s director, Hideaki Itsuno, has personally stated that DmC is his favorite entry in the series. That’s quite high praise! And so, I feel it’s extremely appropriate for me to compare this current entry to the prior game because a series should and must continually improve upon each release.

Technology…DMC 5; Combat…Tie!

In some ways DMC 5 is superior to DmC. We’ve already discussed at length how DMC 5’s graphical technology and rendering of characters and animations is phenomenal. Naturally the more recent game wins this category.

Yet another gorgeous cutscene. These characters are so lifelike!

The combat system in both games is brilliant, neither being objectively better. DmC features one playable character (ignoring DLC) and favors weapon-switching based on enemy weapon immunity (blue/red). DMC 5 gives us three distinct playable characters and focuses more on positioning and dodging. Ultimately, which you prefer really comes down to personal tastes, and I personally love both!

DmC: Double the Environments

Now we come to the highly problematic areas of DMC 5, and it’s really too bad DMC 5 doesn’t take more inspiration from DmC when it comes to story and level design.

Let’s start with level design. DmC has some of the most imaginative and exuberant levels of any video game. There’s the wild night club with the ground pulsating to the beat. There’s the crazy vertical scale of climbing through a distorted soda warehouse. DMC 5 has nothing like this.

This bridge level is one of the handful of truly unique environments.

Putting it in math terms, DmC has 16 truly unique level environments out of 20 missions while DMC 5 only has 8 unique level environments out of 21 missions. Let that sink in. DMC 5 has half as many unique level environments. That’s downright pathetic.

To put it another way, DmC gives us 16 complete levels with no reusing of assets. DMC 5 only gives us about 8 complete levels, with the remaining 13 being recycled parts of prior locations. It looks like DMC 5 fell victim to poor planning just like DMC 4’s rushed and recycled level design.

The game loves ruined buildings and roots. It’s downright obsessed with them.

Disconnected versus Logical Environments

To add insult to injury, the limited number of environments in DMC 5 don’t even make story sense, as we noted previously. Instead of using the locations to build the story, the levels all feel very disconnected.

At one point I was tasked with finding a mythical item of power, and I was placed in a graveyard. I thought, “Great, finally a location that makes sense; I’ll find the mythical item in a long-forgotten tomb or something.” Sure enough, there was a fancy tomb, but guess what? The tomb was just for looks, and none of it was connected to the story in any way. Who came up with all this?

See that glowing tomb in the distance? It’s meaningless. This area is just filler.

On the contrary, DmC’s environments make sense. You explore a nightclub because you need to pursue the villain’s lover, who runs the club. You attack a soda factory because you need to stop the poisoning of the people. None of this is groundbreaking storytelling, but it flows nicely and lets the player follow the plot. The same can’t be said for DMC 5.

To sum up, DMC 5 lacks content, and the content that is there makes little story sense. It feels like the level design team and character/cutscene team worked 100% independently, merging their work together at the end without concern for a unified gameplay experience.

Enough of our comparison. Let’s get back to DMC 5 and wrap up some loose review ends.

Multiplayer & Sweet Gold Orbs

DMC 5 features no true multiplayer, however occasionally other player’s gameplay will be shown when going through certain missions. You can see them playing and at the end of the mission you can choose to “thumbs up” their performance. That’s about it.

Notice the two other players, showing recordings of their performances. Also, more roots!

The best thing about this multiplayer is the Gold Orb (extra life) reward if another player “thumbs up” your performance. Gold Orbs are very important items on later difficulties, and unless you’re some action-gaming God, you’ll need dozens of these to make it through the final difficulty levels.

To put the multiplayer rewards into perspective, you’re going to find maybe 20 Gold Orbs through the game, but I was given over 20 Gold Orbs as multiplayer rewards during my time reviewing the game. So if you choose to (of have to) play offline, you’ll be missing out on this.

Sound & Music: Juicy & Delicious

Special mention goes to Capcom’s brilliant audio team. DMC 5 has fabulous sound effects, both in combat and in cutscenes. It also has a wonderful variety of music, with many tracks being so groovy I found myself wishing to hear them again and again while playing. Music is a matter of taste, but DMC 5 is delivers nice noise!

Imagine loud and pounding music playing as V shatters his enemies into fine dust.

Horrible DLC Practices: Pay to Win

Unfortunately, Capcom has decided to sell in-game currency for real money. I condemn this practice. It’s unacceptable, especially since you use this currency to revive. I won’t stop condemning this practice no matter how ‘mainstream’ it becomes. Enough said.

Upon death you can use Red Orbs to revive…which can be bought for real money. YUCK!

Various Minor Issues

The out-of-combat movement system feels a bit weird. Jumping and platforming feels slightly off, and the ‘dash’ ability is strange. Once you unlock it, instead of always running faster, it only kicks in once you’ve run slowly for a few seconds. It’s unwieldy and weird.

Some of the secret (bonus) missions are quite uninspired, and some are downright annoying. Maybe some will enjoy them, but they could have been much more inventive.

The game has a few missteps, much like how I got sliced real good in this picture.

You can quickly load your last checkpoint, but the menu doesn’t tell you the time marker since your last checkpoint. 2013’s DmC had this excellent feature (very handy for higher difficulties), but DMC 5 omits it sadly.

On PC the game loads so fast that it’s nearly impossible to read the story synopsis text on the loading screens. A button prompt to load into the game would have been handy because these write-ups are often quite helpful in understanding the jumbled story.

This car was in the wrong place at the wrong time. Bonus points if you spot more roots!

Another annoyance is how pressing Start/Escape skips cutscenes immediately, without warning. A menu option to enable “1-button Cutscene Skipping” would be ideal, since speedrunners want quick skipping while those of us who get interrupted a lot would benefit from pausing.

In regard to cutscenes, at least there’s a convenient ‘Gallery’ menu option to easily replay all cutscenes, in case you skipped one or just want to revel again in the ultra-detailed and lavish presentation. Did I mention the cutscenes are gorgeous? Remind me to mention that…because the cutscenes are really gorgeous!

Conclusion: It’s A Mixed Bag

DMC 5 saddens me. It could have and should have been so much more. The technology is amazing. The game engine runs superbly. There’s a wonderful cast of hyper-real and brilliantly choreographed characters. The combat is diverse, enthralling, and a pleasure to play.

Things are so fun when you’re slicing and dicing with power and style!

But then there’s the big mess of a story with muddled framing and incoherent plot points set in often-recycled levels with bland design and limited visual creativity. Why can’t the narrative and world be as passionately enthusiastic and charming as the rest of the game?

If combat and cutscenes are all that matters to you, DMC 5 is one of the best games out there, but I for one can’t shake the feeling that the narrative and world-design squanders the incredible technology and charismatic characters. This is why DMC 5 saddens me…at least the cutscenes are gorgeous.

Character technology

Charming, unique cast

Gorgeous cutscenes

Flashy, robust combat

Three excellent playstyles

Nicely-paced missions

Stellar sound and music

High replayability

The classic DMC humor

Runs great on PC

Weak, incoherent story

Muddled narrative framing

Story/setting disconnect

Far too few unique levels

Recycled level elements

Boring, dull level design

Various design annoyances

Playtime: 22 hours total. Nick spent 12 hours leisurely completing the standard difficulty level, Devil Hunter. Then he pushed through the next higher difficulty, Son of Sparda, in 8 hours. A few more hours was spent goofing off and unlocking Achievements.

Computer Specs: Windows 10 64-bit computer using an Intel i7-3930k CPU, 32GB of memory, and a nVidia GTX 980 Ti graphics card.

Also read the Devil May Cry 5 PC Performance Analysis.

Devil May Cry 5 Review: So Stylish, Very Thrilling, & Too Dull published first on https://touchgen.tumblr.com/

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tainghekhongdaycomvn · 5 years

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5 Ways We Improved User Experience and Organic Reach on the New Moz Help Hub

Posted by jocameron

We’re proud to announce that we recently launched our brand-new Help Hub! This is the section of our site where we store all our guides and articles on how to use Moz Pro, Moz Local, and our research tools like Link Explorer.

Our Help Hub contains in-depth guides, quick and easy FAQs, and some amazing videos like this one. The old Help Hub served us very well over the years, but with time it became a bit dusty and increasingly difficult to update, in addition to looking a bit old and shabby. So we set out to rebuild it from scratch, and we’re already seeing some exciting changes in the search results — which will impact the way people self-serve when they need help using our tools.

I’m going to take you through 5 ways we improved the accessibility and reach of the Help Hub with our redesign. If you write software guides, work in customer experience, or simply write content that answers questions, then this post is worth a look.

If you’re thinking this is just a blatant excuse to inject some Mozzy news into an SEO-style blog post, then you’re right! But if you stick with me, I’ll make sure it’s more fun than switching between the same three apps on your phone with a scrunched-up look of despair etched into your brow. :)

Research and discovery

To understand what features we needed to implement, we decided to ask our customers how they search for help when they get stuck. The results were fascinating, and they helped us build a new Help Hub that serves both our customers and their behavior.

We discovered that 78% of people surveyed search for an answer first before reaching out:

This is a promising sign, and perhaps no surprise that people working in digital marketing and search are very much in the habit of searching for the answers to their questions. However, we also discovered that a staggering 36% couldn’t find a sufficient answer when they searched:

We also researched industry trends and dug into lots of knowledge bases and guides for popular tools like Slack and Squarespace. With this research in our back pockets we felt sure of our goal: to build a Help Hub that reduces the length of the question-search-answer journey and gets answers in front of people with questions.

Let’s not hang about — here are 5 ways we improved organic reach with our beautiful new Help Hub.

#1: Removing features that hide content

Tabbed content used to be a super cool way of organizing a long, wordy guide. Tabs digitally folded the content up like an origami swan. The tabs were all on one page and on one URL, and they worked like jump links to teleport users to that bit of content.

Our old Help Hub design had tabbed content that was hard to find and wasn’t being correctly indexed

The problem: searchers couldn’t easily find this content. There were two reasons for this: one, no one expected to have to click on tabs for discovery; and two (and most importantly), only the first page of content was being linked to in the SERPs. This decimated our organic reach. It was also tricky to link directly to the tabbed content. When our help team members were chatting with our lovely community, it was nearly impossible to quickly send a link to a specific piece of information in a tabbed guide.

Now, instead of having all that tabbed content stacked away like a Filofax, we’ve got beautifully styled and designed content that’s easy to navigate. We pulled previously hidden content on to unique pages that we could link people to directly. And at the top of the page, we added breadcrumbs so folks can orient themselves within the guide and continue self-serving answers to their heart’s content.

Our new design uses breadcrumbs to help folks navigate and keep finding answers

What did we learn?

Don’t hide your content. Features that were originally built in an effort to organize your content can become outdated and get between you and your visitors. Make your content accessible to both search engine crawlers and human visitors; your customer’s journey from question to answer will be more straightforward, making navigation between content more natural and less of a chore. Your customers and your help team will thank you.

#2: Proudly promote your FAQs

This follows on from the point above, and you have had a sneak preview in the screenshot above. I don’t mind repeating myself because our new FAQs more than warrant their own point, and I’ll tell you why. Because, dear reader, people search for their questions. Yup, it’s this new trend and gosh darn it the masses love it.

I mentioned in the point above that tabbed content was proving hard to locate and to navigate, and it wasn’t showing up in the search results. Now we're displaying common queries where they belong, right at the top of the guides:

FAQ placement, before and after

This change comprises two huge improvements. Firstly, questions our customers are searching, either via our site or in Google, are proudly displayed at the top of our guides, accessible and indexable. Additionally, when our customers search for their queries (as we know they love to do), they now have a good chance of finding the exact answer just a click away.

Address common issues at the top of the page to alleviate frustration

I’ve run a quick search in Keyword Explorer and I can see we’re now in position 4 for this keyword phrase — we weren’t anywhere near that before.

SERP analysis from Keyword Explorer

This is what it looks like in the organic results — the answer is there for all to see.

Our FAQ answer showing up in the search results

And when people reach out? Now we can send links with the answers listed right at the top. No more messing about with jump links to tabbed content.

What did we learn?

In addition to making your content easily accessible, you should address common issues head-on. It can sometimes feel uncomfortable to highlight issues right at the top of the page, but you’ll be alleviating frustration for people encountering errors and reduce the workload for your help team.

You can always create specific troubleshooting pages to store questions and answers to common issues.

#3: Improve article quality and relevance to build trust

This involves using basic on-page optimization techniques when writing or updating your articles. This is bread and butter for seasoned SEOs, although often overlooked by creators of online guides and technical writers.

It’s no secret that we love to inject a bit of Mozzy fun into what we do, and the Help Hub is no exception. It’s a challenge that we relish: to explain the software in clear language that is, hopefully, a treat to explore. However, it turns out we’d become too preoccupied with fun, and our basic on-page optimization sadly lagged behind.

Mirroring customers’ language

Before we started work on our beautiful new Help Hub, we analyzed our most frequently asked questions and commonly searched topics on our site. Next, we audited the corresponding pages on the Help Hub. It was immediately clear that we could do a better job of integrating the language our customers were using to write in to us. By using relevant language in our Help Hub content, we’d be helping searchers find the right guides and videos before they needed to reach out.

Using the MozBar guide as an example, we tried a few different things to improve the CTR over a period of 12 months. We added more content, we updated the meta tags, we added jump links. Around 8 weeks after the guide was made more relevant and specific to searchers' troubleshooting queries, we saw a massive uptick in traffic for that MozBar page, with pageviews increasing from around ~2.5k per month to ~10k between February 2018 and July 2018. Traffic from organic searches doubled.

Updates to the Help Hub content and the increased traffic over time from Google Analytics

It’s worth noting that traffic to troubleshooting pages can spike if there are outages or bugs, so you’ll want to track this over an 8–12 month period to get the full picture.

What we’re seeing in the chart above is a steady and consistent increase in traffic for a few months. In fact, we started performing too well, ranking for more difficult, higher-volume keywords. This wasn’t exactly what we wanted to achieve, as the content wasn’t relevant to people searching for help for any old plugin. As a result, we’re seeing a drop in August. There's a sweet spot for traffic to troubleshooting guides. You want to help people searching for answers without ranking for more generic terms that aren’t relevant, which leads us to searcher intent.

Focused on searcher intent

If you had a chance to listen to Dr. Pete’s MozCon talk, you’ll know that while it may be tempting to try to rank well for head vanity keywords, it’s most helpful to rank for keywords where your content matches the needs and intent of the searcher.

While it may be nice to think our guide can rank for "SEO toolbar for chrome" (which we did for a while), we already have a nice landing page for MozBar that was optimized for that search.

When I saw a big jump in our organic traffic, I entered the MozBar URL into Keyword Explorer to hunt down our ranking keywords. I then added these keywords in my Moz Pro campaign to see how we performed over time.

You can see that after our big jump in organic traffic, our MozBar troubleshooting guide dropped 45 places right out of the top 5 pages for this keyword. This is likely because it wasn’t getting very good engagement, as people either didn’t click or swiftly returned to search. We’re happy to concede to the more relevant MozBar landing page.

The troubleshooting guide dropped in the results for this general SEO toolbar query, and rightly so

It’s more useful for our customers and our help team for this page to rank for something like "why wont moz chrome plugin work." Though this keyword has slightly fewer searches, there we are in the top spot consistently week after week, ready to help.

We want to retain this position for queries that match the nature of the guide

10x content

Anyone who works in customer experience will know that supporting a free tool is a challenge, and I must say our help team does an outstanding job. But we weren’t being kind to ourselves. We found that we were repeating the same responses, day in and day out.

This is where 10x content comes into play. We asked ourselves a very important question: why are we replying individually to one hundred people when we can create content that helps thousands of people?

We tracked common queries and created a video troubleshooting guide. This gave people the hand-holding they required without having to supply it one-to-one, on demand.

The videos for our SEO tools that offer some form of free access attract high views and engagement as folks who are new to them level up.

Monthly video views for tools that offer some free access

To put this into context, if you add up the views every month for these top 4 videos, they outperform all the other 35 videos on our Help hub put together:

Video views for tools with some free access vs all the other 35 videos on the Help Hub

What did we learn?

By mirroring your customers’ language and focusing on searcher intent, you can get your content in front of people searching for answers before they need to reach out. If your team is answering the same queries daily, figure out where your content is lacking and think about what you can do in the way of a video or images to assist searchers when they get stuck.

Most SEO work doesn’t have an immediate impact, so track when you've made changes and monitor your traffic to draw correlations between visitors arriving on your guides and the changes you’ve made. Try testing updates on a portion of pages and tracking results. Then rolling out updates to the rest of your pages.

More traffic isn’t always a good thing, it could indicate an outage or issue with your tool. Analyzing traffic data is the start of the journey to understanding the needs of people who use your tools.

#4: Winning SERP features by reformatting article structure

While we ramped up our relevance, we also reviewed our guide structure ready for migration to the new Help Hub CMS. We took paragraphs of content and turned them into clearly labelled step-by-step guides.

Who is this helping? I’m looking at you, 36% of people who couldn’t find what they were looking for! We’re coming at you from two angles here: people who never found the page they were searching for, and people who did, but couldn’t digest the content.

Here is an example from our guide on adding keywords to Moz Pro. We started with blocks of paragraphed content interspersed with images. After reformatting, we have a video right at the top and then a numbered list which outlines the steps.

Before: text and images. After: clearly numbered step-by-step guides.

When researching the results for this blog post, I searched for a few common questions to see how we were looking in the search results. And what did I find? Just a lovely rich snippet with our newly formatted steps! Magic!

Our new rich snippet with the first 4 steps and a screenshot of our video

We’ve got all the things we want in a rich snippet: the first 4 steps with the "more items" link (hello, CTR!), a link to the article, and a screenshot of the video. On one hand, the image of the video looks kind of strange, but it also clearly labels it as a Moz guide, which could prove to be rather tempting for people clicking through from the results. We’ll watch how this performs over time to figure out if we can improve on it in future.

Let’s go briefly back in time and see what the original results were for this query, pre-reformatting. Not quite so helpful, now, is it?

Search results before we reformatted the guide

What did we learn?

By clearly arranging your guide's content into steps or bullet points, you’re improving the readability for human visitors and for search engines, who may just take it and use it in a rich snippet. The easier it is for people to comprehend and follow the steps of a process, the more likely they are to succeed — and that must feel significantly better than wading through a wall of text.

#5: Helping people at the end of the guide

At some point, someone will be disappointed by the guide they ended up on. Maybe it doesn’t answer their question to their satisfaction. Maybe they ended up in the wrong place.

That’s why we have two new features at the end of our guides: Related Articles and Feedback buttons.

The end of the guides, before and after

Related Articles help people to continue to self-serve, honing in on more specific guides. I’m not saying that you're going to buckle down and binge-read ALL the Moz help guides — I know it’s not exactly Netflix. But you never know — once you hit a guide on Keyword Lists, you may think to yourself, "Gosh, I also want to know how to port my lists over to my Campaign. Oh, and while I’m here, I’m going to check on my Campaign Settings. And ohh, a guide about setting up Campaigns for subdomains? Don’t mind if I do!" Guide lovers around the world, rejoice!

Feedback buttons

I know that feedback buttons are by no means a new concept in the world of guides. It seems like everywhere you turn there's a button, a toggle, or a link to let some mysterious entity somewhere know how you felt about this, that, and the other.

Does anyone ever actually use this data? I wondered. The trick is to gather enough information that you can analyze trends and respond to feedback, but not so much that wading through it is a major time-wasting chore.

When designing this feature, our aim was to gather actionable feedback from the folks we’re looking to help. Our awesome design, UX, and engineering teams built us something pretty special that we know will help us keep improving efficiently, without any extra noise.

Our new feedback buttons gather the data we need from the people we want to hear from

To leave feedback on our guides, you have to be logged in to your Moz account, so we are sure we’re helping people who engage with our tools, simple but effective. Clicking "Yes, thank you!" ends the journey there, job done, no need for more information for us to sift through. Clicking "No, not really" opens up a feedback box to let us know how we can improve.

People are already happily sending through suggestions, which we can turn into content and FAQs in a very short space of time:

Comments from visitors on how we can improve our guides

If you find yourself on a guide that helps (or not so much), then please do let us know!

The end of an article isn’t the end of the line for us — we want to keep moving forward and building on our content and features.

What did we learn?

We discovered that we’re still learning! Feedback can be tough to stomach and laborious to analyze, so spend some time figuring out who you want to hear from and how you can process that information.

If you have any other ideas about what you’d like to see on the Help Hub, whether it’s a topic, an FAQ, or snazzy feature to help you find the answers to your questions, please do let us know in the comments below.

Sign up for The Moz Top 10, a semimonthly mailer updating you on the top ten hottest pieces of SEO news, tips, and rad links uncovered by the Moz team. Think of it as your exclusive digest of stuff you don't have time to hunt down but want to read!

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