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tmnt-tychou · 1 year

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Previous shorts from this AU:

“Branded”

“The Pitt Boss”

This AU is meant for adult audiences and is not a happy, fluffy story. If you are easily triggered, this story/AU is not for you. Read at your own discretion.

The Favored

A Battle Nexus AU short

The last rule that Master Splinter had ever given them was this: never allow themselves to be separated from their brothers. Leaving the dojo, they were told to watch out for one another, protect each other. Always stay together, no matter what.

They were young then. They didn't understand the importance of their sensei's words at the time. The wisdom of his warning became clear far too quickly. Every bad thing that happened to them happened when they were alone. It was a lesson all of them had to learn the hard way. Now, in their thirtieth year, the turtle brothers stuck to each other like glue. But there still had to be exceptions to the rule.

The Daimyo had summoned Leonardo to the palace. He had no choice but to obey. Opportunities to curry favor with the magistrate were rare. The Daimyo was known to be fickle. So to reject any invitation was unwise and would most assuredly earn his ire—if not his fury.

As such, Leonardo allowed himself to be escorted from the cell he shared with his brothers in the pits. The three stood at the door, silently watching him leave with wary eyes. He was taken to the palace—as had happened before. Usually, this meant the Diamyo was hosting one of his large, extravagant parties. As he had become accustomed to, Leonardo was taken in through the back entrance where he was bathed and then dressed in silk robes. Far more proper attire to go before his lord.

He sat on his knees patiently as he was adorned with blue paint, the color he wore in battle. In the arena, it was slapped over him in sloppy patterns with a dry, stiff brush. Here, the palace staff neatly drew delicate patterns upon his skin to pretty him up. To cover all the scars. As he was escorted down the servant hallways, he passed a mirror. The paint always made him look too feminine, too delicate. But he supposed that was what had been requested.

The party was already in full swing when Leonardo was led into the lavish room. A feast on long tables adorned the fall wall. A group of musicians played lively tunes while guests from many different lands danced and chatted happily with one another. Everything was lavish, plush, fresh. Leonardo was gristled, torn, damaged. He didn't belong in a place like this. Yet, his presence was requested nearly every time an even like this occured.

A guard remained on either side of him, watching his every move. No one announced his entrance. No one paid him any mind. Leonardo didn't expect them to. Though he was here by the Daimyo's invitation, he was under no misconception that he was any sort of guest. If anything, he was more like the entertainment.

The two guards remained on either side as Leonardo presented himself to the Daimyo, seated on his throne. He was an absolute mountain of a man, towering over all his subjects when he stood. Hair that used to be a fiery red—as fiery as his temper—was now nearly stark white with age. Leonardo knelt humbly before the lord, eyes lowered. His Magesty nodded in approval. No other Battle Nexus warrior—no matter how many victories he claimed—had ever been invited to the palace. It wasn't their place. The warriors were dangerous, feral. Some were even criminals.

But Leonardo, the leader of his champion team, had become favored of the Daimyo. Unlike many of his fellow fighters, he was educated, well-spoken, as well as polite and respectful. This caught the attention of not just the ruler of this land, but others in positions of power. And when Leonardo stood to face the party, many of the guests were pleased to see him.

As was expected of him, he walked into the crowd and talked politely to anyone who approached. Diplomats, politicians, the rich and influential. They knew him by name. Everyone did. He was famous in his own way. They told him of the matches they had seen of him and his brothers in the Battle Nexus. Leonardo always graciously thanked them for their praise and for their attendance. It was always expected of him to encourage attendance and patronage of the arena. Though to him, it made no difference. He would have to fight, no matter who came.

The party guests always approached him carefully at first, then they would crowd closer as Leonardo spoke in soft, polite tones. They would get bolder and more drunk as the night went on. They would forget he was a warrior; they would forget he was a killer. An animal kept in a cage, only brought out to fight and entertain. His clean robes and beautiful body paint were his disguise. And they were all easily fooled.

They would touch him, tentative at first, then boldly. His paint would be smudged by the end of the night by inebriated party guests who wanted to see what a turtle mutant's skin and shell felt like. They never asked, they just touched. And Leonardo had to allow it. Men and woman both would ask him inappropriate questions about his body and his relationship with his brothers and other fighters. Sometimes they would try to coax or even order him to take off his robes. Leonardo would always have to be charming and coy. He would have to dance out of awkward topcis and steer them back to polite conversation.

And then, when they were done touching and taking up his space, they would want him to put on a show. Someone would suggest the captain of the Battle Nexus Champion team show them why he deserved that title. They would want to see a demonstration of his skill and prowess. Someone always suggested it in a joking voice. Then another would agree as if it were such a novel thing. But Leonardo knew it always ended this way. And the guards who kept a sharp eye on him were always prepared.

Then, the most unheard of thing would happen. He would be given a pair of swords. Beautiful, ornate weapons with blue ribbons trailing delicately from the hilts. The kind of caliber he had only ever touched in the palace. A far cry from the dingy, blood-stained hunks of metal they gave the fighters in the ring.

With swords in hand, he would kindly request a generous amount of space before the throne. The Daimyo always had a front row seat in the show. The party went quiet as the band stopped their jovial strumming and the flutist would begin with a slow, haunting melody. And then, Leonardo would dance.

It was the only part he enjoyed. The music filled him, moved him. He could block out all the silent eyes watching and sink into his own world. A world of motion, strength and grace. He floated over the floor in a series of complicated katas, punctuated with kicks, spins and flips. The beautiful blades he held sang their own song as they cut through the air, going faster and faster. Leonardo was granted a small moment where he was only full of flight and music. Where he could pretend his hands weren't stained with blood, his body covered in scars. That he was free.

As he danced, all eyes were on him, and his attention was turned inward. But a motion caught his eye. An extra person up by the throne where no one else should be. Leonardo was already in motion, his body in its deadly dance, blades in his hand. A high jump, a spin, and one of the swords flew out of his hand with deadly precision.

It shot directly toward the Daimyo and embedded itself in the wood support beam next to his head. The long, delicate blade vibrated from the impact as everyone gasped. The Daimyo looked at his fighter—his property—with rage that his prize fighter would ever dare to do such a thing. Then he heard the wet gurgle behind him. He looked to see a female feline mutant, one of the servers at the party, was pinned by the sword, the blade going into her neck. Blood dribbled down her furry throat as she looked at the Daimyo with hate and rage. As she sucked in her last breath, a small knife that had been meant for the Daimyo himself fell from her hand and clattered on the floor.

Everyone was staring at everyone else in wide eyes. An attempt on the Daimyo's life and no one had been watching. In his own home by one of his own servants.

With rage, the Daimyo yanked out the blood-soaked blade and stared with fire at Leonardo. The party guests were dead quiet and even backing away further. They were all suddenly reminded that this turtle in their midst was no party guest, no entertainer, but a trained killer.

With the Daimyo's heated stare upon him, Leonardo immediately lowered his gaze and dropped to one knee in humble servitude. The crowd parted as the Daimyo descended the stairs, sword still dripping blood in his hand. Leonardo kept his gaze low and head down as the much larger man towered over him. The lord's shadow covered him, blocking out the light.

“You...you have just saved my life,” the Daimyo said with wonder in his voice.

Leonardo had taken no pleasure in killing a fellow mutant, especially one who wasn't a trained fighter. He understood the hate mutants had for the lord of this land. He understood how they were all mere property to the Daimyo and his subjects. But her death would have been for more gruesome, more painful, if she had lived to be arrested for her crime.

“I am your servant and your protector, Highness,” he said humbly.

“For what you have done, I grant you one favor. I will take you out of the Battle Nexus. I will give you a job in my palace. I will make you one of my personal guards, if you wish it.”

A murmur rose from the crowd. Anyone could end up in the Battle Nexus, but no one got out of it. It was the very last stop for anyone caught in its hold.

“I...I thank you for your generous offer, Highness,” Leonardo said carefully. His heart raced in fear. “But I cannot accept. I cannot leave my brothers.”

The Daimyo frowned. “You reject my favor? You reject a gift from your Daimyo?”

The murmurs rose up.

Leonardo bent down lower, prostrate on the ground. His forehead touched the floor in submission. He tried his best to keep the shaking out of his voice.

“I require no reward for your protection. It is my duty, my honor, to be of service. I humbly request to stay with my family and to bring you glory with my team.”

The Daimyo looked down at the shell of the mutant below him and the anger slowly seeped out of him.

“Very well. If this is your wish, I will allow it. You may return to your brothers.”

Though no one else could see, Leonardo closed his eyes and sighed in relief. “Thank you.”

By now, it was clear the party would not continue as guards were already dragging the dead mutant away, leaving a trail of blood. The Daimyo told his turtle subject to rise and then gave him a dismissive motion. Guards approached to relieve Leonardo of his remaining sword and to escort him out of the party. He was more than happy to leave.

But he didn't get too far from the party when a male voice followed him out.

“Leonardo.”

That voice crawled up his shell like a spider and he had to fight not to cringe and frown.

“Your Highness,” he said with deference as he turned around

The Daimyo's son leaned against the wall, his frame tall and lean. His expression always slightly disingenuous. He had been at the party and often in Leonardo's line of sight. Most likely on purpose. Leonardo had pretended to never notice him. “Quite a show you gave us out there. You scared a few of the ladies. I think they had forgotten how dangerous you can be.”

“Your father was almost killed,” the turtle reminded. “I did what I had to do.”

“Yes, how lucky for him you were there.” He sounded very unconcerned that he had nearly lost his parent that night. “Too bad the party had to end early. I'm going to keep the festivities going elsewhere with some friends. You must join us.”

Leonardo set his jaw. All he wanted was to go back to his brothers, but the prince waved the guards away. Leonardo watched them go with a sinking in his chest. He wanted to leave with them. He wanted to be out of this place.

The Daimyo's son slid up to him, slipped a finger under his chin to turn the turtle's ice blue eyes up at him.

“You will come with me,” the prince grinned. An order, not a request. And it was just as dangerous to ignore his invitation as it was his father's.

He leaned down to claim the mutant's mouth. Kissed the fighter without fear. Pressed his body into the firm plastron and ran his hands over solid muscle, mussing the body paint even more.

Leonardo allowed it. He had no other choice.

***************

On nights like this, the brothers never slept, even though the morning would come all too soon and it would be back to heavy training. There would be no sleep if one of them was missing.

In the waning hours of the night, a dispassionate and tired Leonardo was escorted back to his cell and locked inside with his brothers. The other three greeted him in relief. Though he had been returned to them every time, there was always that fear that one day they would never see him again.

He was back in his old, threadbare clothes with a few smears of blue body paint still on his arms and face. More often than not, he would return from the palace smelling like other people. The scent of so many other people all over him. Some smells stronger than others. One smell in particular was always there.

Raphael remembered the first time Leonardo was returned to them, smelling of strangers and looking so hollow inside. He was never one who liked to be touched. That aversion made him sharper and faster in the arena. But that night, he had curled up against Michelangelo and shoved his snout in his brother's neck, desperate to smell something familiar.

The first few times, he had talked about the palace, about the parties and what it was like. After that night, the night when he looked so hollow, he never talked about it again. The brothers never asked. They already knew. And they would let their proud, fearless brother curl up against them on the nights when he came back, covered in the stink of everything non-mutant and non-turtle. They would let him smell their familiar smell until he no longer felt like he was going to throw up from the stench of it. They would curl up around him so he would smell like them instead. Like reptiles and dank, musty cells. It wasn't a home, but it was what smelled safe to all of them.

That night, instead of merely resting against his brothers to sleep, Leonardo was extra clingy. Raphael grunted as he was practically in a hug from his brother.

“Jeeze, Leo. You okay?”

Into his shoulder, Leonardo whispered. “I almost didn't make it back.”

The pile of turtles reacted like the coils of a snake, tightening around their team captain. Keeping him with them. Above all else, they had to adhere to their sensei's order. They always, always had to stay together.

Tag List: @thelaundrybitch @turtle-babe83 @red-phoenixxx @leosgirl82 @dilucsflame33 @akesdraws-blog @happymoonangel @fluffytriceratops @beautifulfunanchor @asultrysiren

#tmnt #tmnt 2003 #tmnt 2k3 #tmnt au #battle nexus au #my art

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saltchurch · 3 years

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Arnolfini Portrait (Detail), Jan van Eyck / Bloody Mary, Supernatural

#it is fully 10 am and no one is going to see this but gay people just look in mirrors #mirrors placed in paintings as a nod to the audience watching #studying flemish primitives right now can you tell?#bloody mary is an episode that can actually be so personal #mirrors placed in paintings as a way for the artist to sneak a self portrait in #arnolfini portrait #Jan van Eyck #supernatural #dean winchester #sam winchester #supernatural comparatives #spn 1x05 #bloody mary #also just realized this could b interpreted as w/incest its NOT #w/ncesties dni !!!

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imagine--if · 2 years

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Hey! I'd love an imagine with Dano!Riddler and the reader being kind of crazy and his partner in crime? Maybe like he's liverstreaming or something and the riddler completely shows her off 😍 Love your writing btwwwww

A/N: Uhh YES?!!?!? And thank youuu 💕 I've just finished watching The Batman again in the cinema and my mum was like "He's kinda ugly..." So I was whisper-shouting in absolute FURY for like 20 mins because??? You're not DeEp EnOuGh to get it mumma 😂😂 ALSO!!! Have you gone on the Riddler's website? It's an actual thing aaasahfa, I legit SCREAMED lol I've got an ask for the reader who meets the riddler through it and imma do it ASAP 😆🤩 send in more requests!!!

Pairing: Dano!Riddler x reader (The Batman 2022)

Warnings: The Batman spoilers? Kickass partners in crime 😏

Words: 754

The view count slid up higher by the minute as the infamous Riddler of Gotham entertained his audience, with his everchanging loud and soft tones, rambling words and conversation that they drunk up, watching as the man in the mask presented his latest victim with glee.

You're there too, of course. You know all about the Riddler, about Edward Nashton and his obsessions with puzzles and clues and enigmas. He's insane, and to be quite honest, you might be too, for loving him just as much as he loves you. For you, Gotham has always been a gloomy, grey place, and livening it up is the most fun you've had in your life. Being with Edward is... well, how can you even describe it?

He's a proud boyfriend, one hundred percent. Because you know full well how to handle yourself, not to mention other people, with a few kicks and swings of a bat. It always earns you a lustful, adoring look from Eddie in his Riddler suit, who is determined to show you and everyone else exactly who you are. Both of you.

He's entirely yours, and you're his.

"And- and there she is!" A familiar voice says to his laptop, the screen mirroring his figure, the chat on the left and view count and controls to the right. Comments flooded in excitedly as you entered the apartment, glancing at the trembling victim who gave you pleading, desperate eyes, his words smothered by silvery duct tape. You scoffed lightly with a raised, amused brow, walking straight past them.

"Now, to all of you who don't know," he continues, beckoning you over and engulfing you in a hug from behind, so that the two of you are still facing the screen, "this is the true queen of Gotham. This is a goddess- my goddess-"

"Stop," you try to interrupt him with a roll of your eyes and a slight laugh, heat rising to your cheeks, but he shakes his head, running his gloved fingers through your hair and using his other hand to trail gently down your side.

"No, no, no, I can't stop," he insists, "I need everyone to see exactly who we are. Who you are. And I'll show you all something else."

He picks up his laptop then, taking your hand and leaving the victim in the main room with a warning glare and a nod to the cameras watching them. He pushes open a side door, and you can't help smiling, taking in the polaroids, the little trinkets, the Post-its hanging by string from the ceiling.

"This is a shrine of sorts," he explains to his viewers, who take in the sight in amazement. "This is her room. No, no, not the bedroom, her room."

The Riddler's not wrong. The photographs that cover most of the wall space are mainly of you: some with him, others by yourself, random shots and posed shots. The gaps left on the walls were spray-painted with your name. Trinkets being small items you'd left behind when you first started dating and hadn't properly moved in together, and he kept every one of them as if they were jewels... when they're actually just hairbands and necklaces and other things you'd found in the past. Post-its with green hearts and white question marks, with your name being the answer to each riddle scribbled down and hung up. Most are just your name written again and again, crossworded with his name, as well as words like 'beauty' and 'angel'.

He's obsessed, but it's not just an obsession, like that of his puzzles. He's well and truly in love. And he can't get enough of the feeling.

"I've been working on it for a while," he tells his viewers, and your fingers trace the stray hairbands and thin chains you forgot about that are held in miniature chests and small glass boxes. "It's coming together nicely, don't you think?"

You don't have the words, though you've seen the room a few times before. He brushes a thumb across your cheek, seemingly forgetting about the live stream, before your gaze shifts to the screen, and the enthusiastic comments.

- power couple!!

- crazy couple and i LOVE it

- we're still here lmaooo

"You'll be seeing us again," the Riddler concludes, "very soon."

He ends the stream, and you gently tug the mask off, revealing the smirking face of Eddie, looking at you in the usual awe and adoration.

"I think this shrine could use more polaroids, don't you?"

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delfiore · 3 years

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take my hand, wreck my plans [pt. i]

pairing: amy march x reader

synopsis: in paris where amy learned the manners of a proper lady is also the place where she opens her heart to you, a free-spirited traveler who’s only ever here for a good time.

word count: 4.1k

a/n: and so the flo pugh phase on delfiore begins. i’d just like to thank @rednoexiste for being my duolingo owl pestering me everyday so that i have the motivation to finish this one :’)

>> part ii

now playing:

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Until she met you, Amy March had the story of her life all planned out.

Fred Vaughn was an eligible bachelor whose fortune would ensure a comfortable life not only for her, but for her entire family. More or less she knew he would propose soon as she’s worked to have him take a liking to her ever since she was 13. If that didn’t work out, she would still have her paintings and be determined to become the best painter there ever was. In any case, she would find a way to support herself because that was what Aunt March taught her, to make the best of her circumstances as a woman in society. Meeting Laurie again was like a light at the end of the tunnel, and being in his presence brought out the innocent child that she once was when she first fell in love with him. She showed him around Paris, brought him to see Aunt March, who behind his back raised a lot of censorious eyebrows, and rekindling their friendship brought her to you.

You first caught her eyes at the evening ball by your radiant smile and the way you seemed to enrapture a circle of partygoers in your animated storytelling. Only when your audience erupted into a round of laughter after you delivered your punchline did Amy look away just as Fred towered over her to offer her a dance. All the while she danced with Fred, her eyes darted to you swirling in the arms of a gentleman across the room. The fluidity in your movement told her that you must have taken dancing lessons, something not everyone could afford and was therefore one of the higher classes. Splendid, she thought, she could befriend you and climb the social ranks in Paris. That was if she was brave enough to strike up a conversation with you.

The piece ended and the room erupted into claps, yet Laurie was still nowhere to be found unlike he had promised her the day before. She excused herself from Fred and headed towards the entrance of the ballroom, and only then did she notice that you were also nowhere to be found. However she set her mind on trying to find Laurie and hoped that he would walk through the door soon. Instead of hearing her friend’s drunken singing and obnoxious boots stumbling through the door, she heard coming from an indent in the hallway giggles and the sound of lips smacking and low moans. Her annoyance grew knowing that her doubts had come true. There could never be a world in which Theodore Laurence would pull it together and act his age.

She rounded the corner and approached the noise. “Laurie, I swear to God, you—”

Her jaw dropped in shock when the culprit eliciting those lewd sounds in front of her was not Laurie’s doing, but yours. You mirrored her expression as soon as you finished nibbling on the lady’s neck and had let go of her dress that you hiked up. Amy didn’t let you plead your case before disappearing the way she came from, the image of you and the lady etched in her mind like a stamp. She walked back into the ballroom with her best neutral expression, mind so far from body that she didn’t even notice Laurie finally coming up to her.

Paris, the capital city of France, didn’t turn out to be such a big city after all. Laurie found her drawing in the park a few days later and was so excited to introduce her to his new friend. Her face dropped when you leaned over with a bright smile.

“Pleased to make your acquaintance.” You nodded slightly.

Laurie left soon when he looked at his pocket watch and excused himself to attend business calls. By then, you had already introduced yourself as a traveler to discover “all the land that man can reach”. The way you carried yourself with your shoulders squared, a soft smile and courteous words made it hard for Amy to believe that you were the one she caught in such a scandalous position. But she wasn’t condemning you for that. She knew that attraction couldn’t be helped after hearing Meg cry about “strange feelings” she felt for lovely Edith that worked in the old tavern in town, and by herself when something still stirred in her stomach seeing Laurie, despite himself, years after having fancied him as a young girl. She just couldn’t fathom anyone being so open and unapologetic about it, thinking about the consequences of being found out.

“So you are an artist.”

“Yes.” She answered courtly and returned to her sketch.

“I must say that’s a very innocent interpretation of your subjects, Miss March.”

At your words, she stopped her pencil and looked up. “Whatever do you mean? They are two ladies.”

“Yes.” You nodded, the grin spreading wider. “They are two ladies.”

Realization dawned on her, and suddenly the two ladies sitting a few yards away from her acted under a different lens, a more intimate one as the lady with the big hat held out a biscuit waiting for the other to catch it with her mouth.

“And how are you so sure?” Amy remarked.

“I’m not. I simply make observations from which I draw conclusions.”

At this point, she’d already found you insufferable. “Thank you for your input, but I think I’ll decide the relationship between my subjects myself.”

Despite the slight flare in her voice, you only smiled that stupidly radiant smile of yours and said: “Well, I suppose I’ll have to be around to consult you on your drawings, because clearly, what you lack is perspective.”

“Perspective?” She retorted, glaring at you.

“There is no shame in not knowing.” You said.

“You cannot just go around telling people what to think! I don’t know what you learned in the way you were raised, but that is just rude.” Seeing her gather her sketchbook and pencils to stand up, you only chuckled which infuriated her even more.

“I’ll see you around, Miss March.” She heard you call and could almost imagine that smirk on your face, and kept walking.

She didn’t see you for the next week or so. Maybe a part of her wished you did keep your promise and bothered her every time she went to the park. Unlike Fred or Laurie, you actually took interest in her works and appreciated them, enough to challenge them. Laurie would come by and visit her at the art studio and pester her in the manner that he always would, and Amy would always find herself feeling a bit disappointed when she didn’t see you and your million-dollar smile greeting her. But what did she expect, another busy socialite inebriated in their own fame and influence, only the exact type of people Laurie would befriend.

Amy has been going home much earlier these days with Aunt March complaining about sore joints and becoming less active by the day. At first she didn’t think much of it — it might have just been the changing seasons and Aunt March has always been prone to those — but she stayed in bed longer and needed assistance getting out of bed, going down the stairs and such. “You’d best hurry on the Vaughn boy,” she’d say, “lest I crawl into my grave early and you go back to Concord unmarried. You’d be back to square one.”

“I’m home!” Amy called just after closing the front door behind her. It wasn’t unusual of her aunt to not answer back immediately, but there was indistinct chatter from the living room followed by a hearty laugh, Aunt March’s.

“Oh, good, Amy, you’re back.” The older woman leaned forward cheerfully. “You never told me you had such interesting friends. Y/N here was just telling me about her trip to Japan.”

Amy’s surprise quickly soured into vexation, but kept her composure in front of Aunt March enough to pull onto your sleeve and let go in the hallway.

“What are you doing here?! How did you know where I live?” Amy whispered angrily.

“Laurie told me. I just wanted to come by and say hello to your aunt, I even brought her some silk from Japan which were very expensive, by the way—”

“We don’t need anything from you, Y/N.” She grumbled.

“I also wanted to come and apologize for my behavior the other day. It was out of place.” You pressed your lips together. “So, I brought you this. As an apology.” You showed her a long, thin box of wood with beautiful details engraved with jade on top. Once she unlocked the hinge and pried the lid open, a surprised gasp escaped her lips.

“Y/N, this—”

“Is a set of writing brushes I acquired just before I left Edo, which is now Tokyo, I suppose. I don’t know whether you could use it in your paintings, but I hope you do. I’d love to see more of your perspective on things.”

Amy was at a loss for words. Maybe she was wrong about you. You seemed satisfied with her reaction when that charming smile spread across your lips again. When she asked what she could repay you with, you only shrugged and said: “Your friendship.”

And so that was how her peculiar friendship with you began. Most of the times you were friends, after the relationship was inaugurated in a sort of exchange when you gave her your present, sometimes there were moments that made her question the nature of your friendship, wondering whether or not being friends was enough to describe what you had: the little moments at the park when her stomach stirred hearing you laugh at something she had said; the reassurance she felt whenever she saw your face at a party and the way you would always pester her; how easily Aunt March seemed to warm up to you, seeing that no one gets past her judgmental glares. One thing that never faltered was your charm which seemed to work on everybody. One time you managed to sneak both you and her into a VIP party just by flirting with the guards. That was also the night when Amy doubted marrying Fred.

You stormed out of the party with heavy steps that rang on the cobblestone, gripping her hand tightly and pulling you with her. She called your name once, then twice, a little louder before you stopped. She had never seen you so angry, your eyebrows loomed over your eyes and your lips curved in a scowl. You were breathing heavily which scared her a bit.

“Why would you let him do that to you?” You barked.

“It’s alright, Y/N.” She grabbed your arm in an attempt to soothe you.

“No, it’s not alright. How dare he do that to a lady in plain sight?!”

“It’s not like you haven’t done that before!”

“With their permission! I don’t go around forcing myself on them!”

“I don’t know why you’re so irritated over this. Fred and I are to be married.”

“Yes, he dares to do so when you’re not yet married. Who knows what else he'll do when you are his by law.”

At this, Amy stopped, the next words to propel the argument stuck in her throat. She noticed that your demeanor changed after you let out a heavy sigh; you looked sad.

“I’d better go,” you said, your voice tempered again, “before I say something I regret. I’ll see you around.”

She had never questioned Fred’s intention before that night. It always seemed that she was taking advantage of him, his wealth and the stability he would give her. She never thought of what it might mean in return. You went off the radar for the next few days. She even asked Laurie and even he had no idea where you went. “Probably on some adventure around the city. She always seems to get herself into trouble, that one,” Laurie would say nonchalantly as he blew on a dandelion, watching the fluffy seeds float away seamlessly into the blue sky. She would sit at her spot in the park where she knew you would find her, but you never did.

Life had to go on with or without you, and Amy was preparing to attend an art exhibition organized by a rich art connoisseur in town. Though she had to scramble to fit her gigantic painting into the carriage, she was excited because it was a chance to show off her work to the elite of the Parisian art scene, or at least what the elite dictated who they were. When she arrived, the exhibition was beginning to fill up, most of the exhibitors being men dressed in black suits, a few women here and there. So Amy got to work; she registered herself and chose an empty spot in the grander room of the house, and set up her canvas near the window, where natural light made the scene in her painting glow. Visitors poured into the exhibition as her excitement grew. However she quickly deflated when she realized they crowded around her male colleagues, and only a few would glance at hers then proceeded to find another male painter to marvel at. She expected this of course, but that didn’t lessen her disappointment nonetheless. No matter how good she was, people would still not be able to look past her gender.

That was until an older man walked through the rows and stopped in front of her painting. She was face-to-face with him, his arms behind his back, puffs of smoke floating away from his pipe as he studied her painting under furrowed eyebrows. After a minute or two, he took the pipe from his lips, and said in French: “It’s too dull.”

“Excuse me?” She blurted out.

“It’s dull. There’s no life in this. How did you manage to suck the life out of such marvelous scenery?”

“I—“

“I’d beg to differ, sir.” Your voice appeared before you did, next to the man. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt, but I’d say this is a marvelous depiction of a marvelous scenery.”

“Really? How so?”

“The trees, the flowers, the girl, they all speak to one another, like harmony in a soulful piano étude Chopin would compose. The choice of color truly brings out the vivacity and the sudden chaos of the children playing together. But without that beam of sunlight spread across the painting there, this would be dull, as you said. I’m glad the artist decided to spray a part of the sun into the work. This isn’t just a painting, sir, it’s a window into happier times, almost nostalgic if I must say.”

“Well, if you put it like that . . . “ The man scratched his beard. “I see what you mean. Perhaps I had been too harsh. Art is food for the soul, and each soul is different. You, what’s your name?”

“Amy March, sir.”

“Américaine?”

“Yes, sir.”

He nodded. “Hugo Périer. Would you like to apprentice at my studio?”

“Yes, sir! Thank you, sir!” Amy beamed in excitement, as Périer handed her a business card.

“Monday at 8, don’t be late.”

She still buzzed with glee when the man walked away. When her eyes finally met yours, she was greeted by a warm smile on your face. No words could describe her thanks to you, so she leapt into your arms and locked you tightly in her embrace. Though you seemed taken aback by her sudden display of affection, you let out a laugh and circled your arms around her waist and held her tightly.

“This calls for a celebration.” You squeezed her hand. By nightfall, you took her to a corner of Paris that she had never come across before. It was an old tavern hidden in the center of the city, lit by a few lanterns and packed with people that you had to grab her hand and squeeze through the bodies so you wouldn’t lose her.

“I want you to meet someone.” You smiled and extended your hand towards a beefy man with a scruffy dark beard, maybe in his forties. “This is Serge, our captain. He’s the whole reason I get to sail around.”

Amy felt small against the man’s enormous frame, but as soon as he cracked a smile and ruffled your hair, her shoulders relaxed at your unusual meekness with the man. “You must be the artist. Y/N would not quit yapping on about your pretty drawings.”

She let out a surprised laugh, and when she looked at you, you rolled your eyes and dug your elbows into Serge’s side trying to hide your pink cheeks.

“You must play a song, Y/N. Everyone’s been waiting for you to come.” Serge beckoned you over and pushed you towards the upright piano by the staircase, as you shot her an apologetic smile. As soon as your fingers glided over the keys, it was as if the whole tavern shifted and the tune swept everyone on their feet. Serge pushed her in the middle and before she knew it, Amy became lost in the music and moved with it and the people. For the first time in a while, she didn’t care about keeping her image or making an impression. It was very unlike her to let loose and let the music take over her body; she hadn’t done that ever since she was a child. You recognized this, and that wide smile on her face was a sight to see. When the song ended and the entire pub cheered, you met her eyes, and for a split second Amy felt utterly euphoric at the feeling of being free, surrounded by people who also danced and sang without a care in the world, and she was so happy to share it with you.

“Where did you learn to play the piano?” She asked you once everyone stopped pestering you to play.

“I just picked it up here and there.” You replied, taking a small sip from your beer. “Never had any proper lessons though.”

“That’s much better than I could ever play. My sister Beth was always the family musician.”

“She your only sister?”

“No.” Amy chuckled. “I have three sisters. I’m the youngest.”

“Wow.” You huffed amused. “That’s a chaotic household.”

“You?”

There was a beat of hesitation behind you answer. “I never knew my parents, didn’t have any siblings either. I lived on the streets until Serge found me when I was eleven? Twelve? He’s the only family I’ve ever known.”

“Oh. I’m sorry, Y/N.”

“Don’t be. I’m happy with my life.” The soft light curved over your smile, but Amy could see a hint of longing in your eyes. Sometimes her annoyance with her family overpowered her unconditional love for them, and she never really felt grateful to spend time with them at home. It must be so lonely and difficult for you to grow up alone. She would never know how you feel and that made her sad because she would never be able to share your pain, while you had made your mission to make her feel understood ever since she met you.

There were a million thoughts racing through her head when you walked her home, after she realized it was 10pm and Aunt March would be worried sick (to which you only laughed at her and called her “Cinderella but way too uptight”). There was a blanket of comfortable silence draped around the two of you as you walked. She had never felt like this with Fred and only ever felt the need to impress him with every chance she got, from walking a little bit straighter, changing her voice so that he would see it fit for a lady, or smile a little too hard at the jokes he makes that frequently fall flat.

“Fred apologized to me.” She suddenly spoke.

“Is that so?” You huffed. “Did he give you that necklace?”

You knew the answer to that. Fred Vaughn had staked his claim on Amy March long before you came into the picture. As she hesitantly touched the jewelry, you only looked away and smiled. And why wouldn’t he? Amy March was truly one-of-a-kind.

She said her goodbyes when you arrived in front of the March mansion, peering up at the flickering candle Aunt March must have left for her. The streets have now cleared up, and it was only you and her within the area that she could see. She said goodbye, but there was something that held her back. She didn’t want you to go yet, not when you looked so wonderful in this light. She watched you walk towards the gate into the streets, and when you disappeared behind the corner, she went inside.

The months rolled by and her friendship with you grew. Though you still retained some of your extravagant antics, Amy had grown to love that about you. It would be so that she would miss your shenanigans once she marries Fred and she knew he would suggest settling in London.

“Boo!” She jumped at the sudden shove at her shoulders. Turning around, she scowled once she heard your laugh poking fun at her.

“Jesus, Y/N.” She muttered. “You are so stupid.”

“But you love me.” You said, and planted a kiss on her cheek from behind. “Besides, without me you’re going to be cooped up in this room all day. Do you even know that it’s snowing?!”

She turned away in an attempt to hide the faint blush that no doubt had printed on her cheeks. “Yes, Y/N, but I can’t just leave in the middle of my session. Périer would not be happy and I need this . . . and don’t touch the fruits, they’re models for the next junior class coming in.” She turned back again to see you staring at her with a grape bulging out of your cheek like a squirrel, and sighed.

You swallowed the grape and grimaced. “Tastes like it too. Come, Amy, it’s 4pm. Your session is over.”

Amy did not, in fact, notice that it snowed. It was the first snow in Paris that season, and everything was covered in a blanket of white.

“Come on!” You said, running past her and smiling widely. “It’s snowing!”

She laughed at your childlike behavior and ran towards you with a chuckle. As you threw a chunk of snow in the air and let it rain over your head, Amy was suddenly reminded of Jo doing the same when they were younger. Suddenly, she felt that familiar feeling that she hadn’t felt in a long time, that she only felt when she was with her family. That feeling of safety and being loved, and the childlike innocence that she so much took for granted. As you smiled at her, it felt like home. So when you threw a snowball at her, she reciprocated the attack which resulted into a full-blown snowball fight. She would do this forever if it meant always being able to hear you laugh.

“Y/N, give me back my gloves, I’m cold.” She called, rubbing her numb hands against one another.

“No way! I’m still cold. If these beautiful fingers fall off and I won’t be able to play piano, my life will be ruined!”

“There’s no way your hands aren’t already warm, you’ve had them on for 20 minutes!” She whined, the same way she would to her older sisters when she begged them to let her tag along to parties.

You looked up at her and huffed out a breath. Amy watched you as you walked towards her while tugging her gloves off of your hands.

“Did you use to whine like this with your family to get what you want, hmm?” You took her hand and put the gloves on. She was still huffing out clouds of cold air, but her hands grew warmer with you nestling them in the gloves.

She pouted. “How else would I get my gloves back?”

“You need only ask.” You said softly, your mouth emitting smoke. “I’ll keep you warm. Always.” A smile rose on your face and you rubbed your thumbs over her cheeks.

When the first snow fell in Paris that year, Amy March fell in love for the first time in her life.

>> part ii

#amy march x reader #amy march imagine #amy march imagines #florence pugh x reader #yelena belova x reader #little women x reader

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 3 years

Text

Hue and Cry

Warnings: non-consent sex and rape; abuse of power, threats, chase.

This is dark!medieval!Bucky Barnes x reader and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Synopsis: You notice a sudden change in Lord Barnes.

Note: This is just me being self-indulgent. I start a new job on Monday and yesterday, someone close to me passed. I’m trying to distract myself but I’m too stressed to work on an standing series. This will have at least one other part.

Thanks to everyone and thanks in advance for all your feedback. :)

I really hope you enjoy. 💋

<3 Let me know what you think with a like or reblog or reply or an ask! Love ya!

You scattered fresh herbs over the rushes carefully as you backed down the hall. The woven mats would absorb the scent and keep the floors tidy until the next sweep. When you reached the corner, you tied up the sachet and gathered up your bucket and broom. The corridors were already smelling fresher though the task had kept you well past the evening meal.

Your usual chores you assigned to Marjorie. As the years piled on her crooked back, she wasn’t as suited to the more physical tasks. Sweeping would have been too hard on her and you didn’t mind the solitary of the work.

You turned past the kitchens and stopped. Your footsteps seemed to echo behind you. You looked back but saw nothing in the shadows. It was late and most of the castle was asleep already, the torches were snuffed but for a few and you could find you way through the dark easily in the familiar castle.

You went to the rear door of the castle on the lower green, just beside the stables, and dumped the dirt. You heard the horses snoring and nicking as the moon shone down on the wood roofs. You basked for a moment in the silver light and the brisk night air. The harvest season was coming to an end and it would soon be cold.

You dropped the bar as you went back inside and returned your broom and bucket to the cellar. Again you heard a step that did not quite align with your own as you came into the corridor. You spun slowly and glanced around. Some of the younger servants were known to sneak around after hours and there was the odd mouse that skittered over the stone. You saw nothing and went on, more than ready to retire to your straw mattress beside Elsa.

“You sent the old lady,” the voice had your heart in your throat and you stopped short to bow to your liege.

“My lord, I was occupied elsewhere. Harold approved the reassignment,” you said shakily. It was unlike him to traverse the lower floors.

“She spilled wine on my tunic,” Lord Barnes said, “and she can barely see her own crooked nose.”

“My lord, she is old, we did not want her to tax herself--”

“She is a servant. Like you. You have your work and she has hers,” he stepped forward out of the dark shadows though there was no lantern or torch to limn his features, “I bid you to bring my meals and tidy my chambers, no one else. There are far too many covetous servants.”

You were put off by his confrontation. You replaced his former chambermaid several years back but Lord Barnes hardly seemed to warm to the change. He never offered more than an obligatory courtesy and when he was present during your tasks, he rarely spoke at all. Your service had been one of complacency on both sides, so you wondered why he would come to the lower floors to search you out after dark.

“I will be there tomorrow, my lord,” you said, “I apologise for my negligence.”

“And every day thus,” he demanded as he got closer.

“Yes, my lord,” you lowered your chin, “as you wish.”

He stopped only an inch from you and you felt him staring down at you. You didn’t dare look back, that would be an affront to any noble. He let out a long breath and slowly backed away.

“Go, you must be worn out from your hard work,” he retreated, “and there is as much to do on the morrow.”

“My lord,” you bent again and listened to his footsteps fade.

When you dared to look up, he was gone. The man was always particular, even those of his own standing were not guaranteed an audience, even as they visited his estate. He stayed far from court since his injury and on those occasions he did travel to the capital, it was not for more than a fortnight.

You did not take the encounter lightly. He had dismissed labour for less and you did not relish a job outside the castle, there wasn’t much to be had in the village. As dull as the work was, it provided you a place to sleep and comforts not known to many others of your breeding.

🏰

When you went to the lord’s chambers the next morning, he was away. His horse had been saddled for an early ride and you did not expect him until his evening meal. After your tasks, you kept busy until you were due with his supper. When you arrived with the tray, he was not there. You waited but he did not appear. You left the tray covered to keep the food warm and went to attend the last of your nightly duties.

You retired without seeing the lord once. The next day passed in kind, and the next, and the next. You wondered for a moment if it was due to his ire with you but quickly shrugged away the notion. Lord Barnes did not think so much of you and his absence was not so unusual. He was a reticent man even if he was willful.

The first you saw him again was with his supper. He sat at his large carved desk as you entered with the tray and you crossed to the round painted table. He raised a hand and tutted as he didn’t look up from the parchment before him.

“Bring it here,” he ordered.

You went to him and set down the tray on the left flank of his desk. You filled his goblet and he blindly reached over to take it. He gulped and kept his head down as he picked the chicken to pieces and chewed over the inky words.

You retraced your steps to the door, usually he ate alone, as he did most things. You only returned to clear his scraps.

“Do you not see the mess?” he asked without looking up. You turned and followed his sharp point to the shelves along the wall. “It is difficult to focus in the chaos.”

“My lord,” you nodded and went to the oaken shelves. You rearranged the crooked spines and tidied the stack of loose leaves. You took the cloth from your apron and wiped down the line of inkwells. You could hear him chewing quietly behind you as he shifted in his chair.

“And you will ready my bed for the night,” he demanded as you finished up, “pull back the covers, it’s been a tiresome day.”

He lifted the parchment and leaned back as he wiped his fingers on his breeches. You acquiesced with a “yes, my lord,” and went to his bedchamber.

You folded down the heavy blankets and linen and fluffed the pillows. You took the brick from the foot of the bed and set it in the hearth. The fall slipped in through the windows and the chill of the castle was no longer so welcomed.

“I won’t need that,” Barnes said as he entered. He was so quiet, you jumped and stood straight. You spun and bowed your head.

“Will that be all, my lord?” you asked as he unbuttoned his overcoat with one hand.

“My footman has been stricken with an ague after we were caught in the rain,” he said evenly, “you can aid with my wardrobe.”

“My lord?”

“Here,” he pointed in front of him and pulled his jacket free of his left arm, “you will take these,” he handed you the garment as you neared, “to the laundries.”

You kept your eyes on the plain grey fabric as he shoved his boots aside and added his socks to your armful, then lifted his tunic as you peered at the floor. He pulled of the leather glove that hid his iron hand, the metal forged to the mirror of his real extremity. You resisted the yen to look higher up the artificial appendage.

You were unprepared to act as his footman and as he stripped away his layers it made you squirm. He rolled down his breeches and slung them over the rest of his clothes.

He stood in only in his undershorts and bent your head lower, “my lord.” You backed away and he caught your elbow. He stopped you and you hugged the pile of clothes with your other arm.

“Didn’t you miss me?” he asked.

The question struck you. You were unsure how to answer. You were used to the silent, brooding lord, not this pensive, prodding master.

“My lord?” you frowned.

“You didn’t?” he urged, “do you not enjoy your duties?”

“I am only… uncertain of what you mean, my lord. I apologise for my displeasing response but I do not know how to answer.”

You looked at his hand still on your elbow. He squeezed and slowly his palm glided up your sleeve. You shivered as he pushed his hand against your neck and his thumb tickled under your chin.

“I must confess I missed you,” he said, “I did stay away because I was upset at your absence and thought to punish you in kind but it seems, it hasn’t had the same effect.”

“What do-- my lord?” you kept your eyes down as his hand moved higher and he brushed along your lower lip.

“I know I shouldn’t let these… feelings persist but there are many lords who indulge without emotion. I assure you, I do not touch you in a meaningless manner.”

“My lord,” you took a step back and he stopped you again. This time his hand gripped your jaw. He pulled you flush to him.

“Look at me,” he hissed. Your lip trembled and you raised your eyes reluctantly, “you continue to deflect me; your lord.”

You stared at him, searched his deep blue eyes desperately, and shivered, “I only seek to fulfill my duties as your chambermaid.”

“And I offer you more. Offer you… privilege over duty,” he rasped, “I would not mistreat you.”

Your heart raced and you wiggled in his grasp. You peeked down at your armful, “I should get these to the laundries, as you bid, my lord.”

He was silent, just for a moment, then he let go of you and tore his clothes from your arm. “You would deny me?”

You stumbled back and watched him fearfully, “my lord, I only-- I am only a maid--”

“I have a dozen maids,” he growled, “I would have you as more. I would take care of you.”

He bore down on you again and you backed up until you were at the hearth, the mantle jutting out against your head. You turned your head as he loomed over you and his hot breath washed over you. His hand was again at your throat as his lips trailed along your cheek.

“A lord does not ask,” he sneered, “a servant obeys.”

“My lord--”

“Shhh,” he hushed as he turned your head and pressed his lips to yours. He parted, his nose rubbing against yours as his hand stretched over your neck, “I can be kind or I can be cruel. Thus far, I’ve spent most of my patience on you.”

You quivered as he kissed you again. You were too afraid to resist as his hand descended to your bodice and he squeezed. You gasped into his mouth and he smiled against you. He grasped your waist and pressed himself to you.

Your blood went cold as the panic rose up your spine. As he tugged at your skirts, you were blinded by fear. You reached up along the mantle as he dipped his head to kiss your neck. You couldn’t think through your shock, your body seemed to move off instinct.

You grasped the beaten metal vase and swung it down on Lord Barnes’ head. He grunted and stumbled back as he touched his head and tried to shake away the pain of the impact. You tossed the vase and it bounced over the stone as you scurried for the door. You tripped as you reached the receiving chamber and heard him behind you, his steps slowly gaining strength.

“You little bitch,” his tone turned to fire.

You struggled to get the heavy door open and raced into the hall. You lifted your skirts as you barreled ahead of him on the stone. Your thin soles slapped the mats and you hurdled down the stairs as you heard his pants coupled with your own. Down and down and down and down.

You led him through the mazed corridors and flitted out through the lower doors behind the stables. You fell into the dirt and quickly climbed back to your feet. You tore off across the yard as he swore into the air and his steps came to a halt.

“I will find you!” he shouted as you head for the wall, your only hope was the tree winding up the east corner, “You won’t get far!” You reached the trunk of the towering oak and your hands scraped against the bark as you hopped and latched onto the lowest branch. You heard him calling to others, “saddle my horse! Rise and ready my horse, boy!”

You reached the top of the wall, weak and worn and hooked your leg over the stone. You carefully scaled the uneven brickwork and the tangled vines. As your feet met the dirt, you turned and fled towards the tree line, darkened with the myths of vengeful wraiths and wicked witches, driven by the threat of a worse monster behind you, the voices and hooves an omen of his intent.

#Bucky Barnes #dark bucky barnes #dark!bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #medieval #medieval au #medieval!au #fic #miniseries #dark fic #dark!fic #mcu #marvel #au #winter soldier

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iguessweallcrazyithinktho · 3 years

Text

𝑭𝒂𝒍𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒊𝒏 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆 𝒐𝒏 𝒕𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒑𝒂𝒓𝒕 2

Part one |

—Summary: harry starts tour off in Vegas; he invites you, his friend, to the show to support him. You stand in the crowd and watch him with so much proudness, harry notices you and he also starts to notice he loved you for a while.

—genre: fluff

—warning: altitude sickness, other than that nothing

—pairing: harry Styles x reader

Trope: friends to lovers

Gif from harrysimpact

I DON'T GIVE YOU PERMISSION TO POST MY CONTENT ANYWHERE

PLEASE COMMENT AND REBLOG

After Denver it was straight to San Antonio. You got loaded into the tour bus with harry and the band and started the short drive there.

The whole way there you and Harry spent time together. You watched a movie, chatted, painted each other's nails, and shared a ton of laughs. When you both weren't together for a short time Pauli would tease harry on how you both were literally in love with each. Harry would usually shake it off with a laugh, but he knew Pauli wasn't lying about that.

You arrived at the hotel and spent the day relaxing. Harry didn't see you the whole day, only a phone call in the morning and a text before bed. It kinda disappointed harry, but the next day before the show he got to see you.

You knocked on Harry's dressing room door. "Harry, it's me." Harry walked over to the door opening it for you. "Hey!" Harry pulled you into a hug with a kiss on the cheek. You chuckled. "Are you ready for tonight?"

Harry nodded. "Yeah, come in, I have to do a few things before I go on."

you walked into Harry's dressing room shutting the door behind you.

You too a seat on the couch and watched as harry fixed his hair in the mirror. "I'm so happy we're no longer in Denver. I got some altitude sickness while we were there and it was hell." Harry turned to you. "Not sure how they live there. Now how do I look?" Harry gave you a little twirl causing you to laugh. "You look amazing." You stood up and walked towards him. You smoothed out his sleeves and looked into Harry's eyes with a smile. "I don't know if you heard this from me yet but I'm very proud of you harry."

Harry smiled. "Thank darlin'." Harry wrapped his arms and hugged you. You pressed your head into his chest and smiled. When you pulled away you looked into his eyes. Harry smiled as he placed his left hand on your cheek, he used his thumb to stroke your cheek.

You looked up into his eyes, you did notice it before but there's a little brown I'm them. Harry mouth parted as he began to lean down. Your heart was beating 70 mph as he inched closer. Harry seemed hesitant but you didn't pull away which meant you wanted this.

As harry reached your lips a knock on the door was heard. "Harry your up in five minutes."

You pulled away and took a few steps from harry. Harry was flustered as he didn't get to kiss you. "Um.. I'm Sorry. You should get going." You mumbled fiddling with your now sweaty hands. "Yeah I should." Harry walked over to the door with you following behind. Before he opened it he turned to you. "Are you going to be in the audience again?"

You smiled at him. "Yes, of course I am. Remember to look at me ok?" Harry smiled. "Alright."

With that harry left and you both went your Separate ways.

During the whole show harry tried to avoid your eyes only because he didn't want to think about how he almost kissed you earlier.

When the show ended harry ran off stage and you were escorted back to the back. Harry was already in his dressing room as you walked back there. you knocked on the door and Waited for harry to answer. A few minutes went by before harry answered. "Hey." He said giving you a shy smile. "Hey, can I come in?"

harry nodded opening the door a little wider for you. "That was a great show tonight harry." You commented. "Thanks."

You looked at him. "You alright?" Harry nodded pulling his blouse off. You were meet with his tattooed body that every girl would kill to see close up. You were starting to get the sense that harry didn't want to see you right now.

"Okay, well I'll let you change. I'll see you later." You walked over to the door ready to open it. Before you could twist the knob harry called out your name. You turned around and looked at him. Harry Walked over to you. His heart was racing as he did, but he couldn't hold this feeling in anymore.

Harry took your cheeks in his hand before he leaned In and kissed you. You moaned as you fell back against the door. Harry tongue slipped into your mouth making your go frail. Harry hands feel from your face to your hips giving them a little squeeze. This was what heaven felt like you thought to yourself and you didn't want it to end.

Im going to make the next part a smut

#harry styles #harry styles x reader #harry styles smut #Harry Styles fanfiction #harry Styles x you #falling in love on tour

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garbagevanfleet · 3 years

Text

Brightest Blue (series)

PART TEN

Pairing: Josh x reader Warnings: THIS CHAPTER IS 18+ ONLY! sexual content (finally), pot use, alcohol use Summary: Things are changing. New state. New school. New roommate. You just pray things are going to click into place.

Notes: Okay, guys. If you missed it, this chapter is NSFW. This was the best to write, seriously. Love you all, don't be afraid to tell me what you think of it!

taglist: @valleyd0ll @satingrass-maidensfair @guitarfingers @thebohemianpenguin @peaceisouranthem @oblvions @hansonobsessed @myownparadise96 @lara-gvf @anditsmywholeheart @kill-fear-the-power-of-lies @bigblack-catattack

MASTERPOST

Two weeks before the Saturday of the play, the forecast had called for a blizzard. “Polar vortex” they had called it on the tv at school, flashing graphics of a polar bear wearing a scarf.

After classes on Friday, you had asked Kate if she wanted to go for coffee. You had been working like a dog on the play - sewing and painting to the point where your fingers perpetually hurt and the only thing you could see when you closed your eyes was the shade of green that every foliage prop was painted.

You ordered a caramel macchiato and genuinely tried to enjoy it, propping your legs up on the chair next to her.

“So,” she started, eyeing you like she had a bone to pick. She still looked so pretty when she was coming for your life. “We’ve been so busy with Josh, we haven’t had any alone time to talk about Trevor.”

You sucked in a deep breath and relaxed your stiff neck muscles, achy from behind hunched over while sewing. “Yeah. I kind of forgot about it, to be honest.”

“I have not, however. So dish,” she requested, reaching into her purse and pulling out a tube of lipstick. She applied it carefully in her phone camera as you spoke.

“Josh did it,” you admitted, making her eyes flick over to you momentarily. “I mean, I still slapped him, but Josh was the one that gave him a black eye.”

“And how do you feel about that?” she asked carefully.

You shrugged, wrapping your fingers tightly around your cup, half to leech the heat, and half because you were anxious. “I don’t know. I was kind of upset, but only because he could have gotten kicked out of school for that.”

She just nodded for you to continue as she cleaned up the lines around her lips with a paper napkin.

“I mean, and for what? He could have been arrested. Just for revenge. I feel like the best revenge would be just be keeping your head high.” You rolled your eyes at the beginning of your statement, just for emphasis.

She stared at you blankly as she picked up her mug. “Aren’t you flattered? I wish a guy would punch one of my hookups.”

“I mean, it’s cute, but I feel like he did it more for himself - for his own pride, you know?”

Her expression changed then to something a little heavier, her features sharpening in accusation. “Are you for real? Like, for real, for real?”

You frowned at her, feeling like you were being scolded. “What are you talking about?”

She let out a long breath, looking dumbstruck. “I haven’t really pressed it because I guess I just thought it was something that everyone knew but wasn’t talking about but-” She paused, putting her hand over yours on the table just to really drive the point home.

“That boy has it bad for you.”

You knew your expression was ridiculous by the way she looked at you with pity. “What the hell are you talking about? Josh? Are we talking about Josh?”

She closed her eyes, pursed her lips, and nodded.

“Kiszka?” you tried again, still refusing to let her statement sink in.

“Yes,” she said through a laugh. “Yes, your roommate Josh. Curly hair, hippy bullshit - that guy. I swear to God I thought you knew. I mean, there were times when I was like ‘does she actually know?’ but then I thought ‘there’s no way she lives with him and doesn’t know that’. You’re telling me I was wrong?”

You were struck silent for a few long moments. “Are you sure?”

Thankfully, she was looking at you like you were a puppy with its head stuck in a peanut butter jar. “Look at me. He punched a guy in the face for you.”

You closed your eyes and tried to suppress a smile. “I don’t know.”

“Okay. There’s supposed to be a huge snowstorm this weekend. Now that you’ve heard me say it, return to me on Monday - after spending all weekend in the same place as him - and tell me you don’t see it then,” she said simply.

“Okay, I will,” you challenged.

“Okay, you do that,” she quipped with a smirk, leaning back in her seat and crossing her arms over her chest confidently.

+++

In preparation, you had gone grocery shopping together, picking out everything you’d need to be stuck in the apartment together. He had even made you take him to a thrift store, just so he could see if there was anything fun. In the end, he had come out with a card game in a box, still wrapped.

Saturday morning the snow started falling, this time in huge, fluffy flakes, and it wasn’t supposed to stop until Monday evening.

While Josh was in the shower, you decided to get everything ready for the evening’s festivities that you had planned together. You had gone to find a good cheese board at the market until you found out they were too pricey for your (nearly nonexistent) budget, so you ended up laying out different crackers and cheeses onto a circular pizza pan.

By the time he got out of the shower, you had grapes, pickles, olives, and chocolates laid out on the coffee table, and he caught you just as you were pouring each of you a glass of wine.

The charcuterie was his idea - actually, the first thing he suggested when you said you wanted to have a fun night in on Saturday. The three different kinds of alcohol had been your idea.

“Okay, it’s all yours,” he informed as he trotted out from his bedroom, dressed in a fresh set of clothes.

The shower was still warmed up, the mirror still steamy. You got a towel out and stepped in under the spray.

You took the time to enjoy washing and conditioning your hair - your mom had been sweet enough to send you some of the expensive kind you love. Once you had hinted over the phone that you were homesick and the smell of it reminded you of home, she was already googling it.

Once you felt sufficiently clean, you stepped out and dried off. The clothes you had taken into the bathroom weren’t anything special - you had chosen comfort over aesthetic - but they were warm, which is what you really needed as the snow fell outside.

When you joined him back in the living room, Josh was waiting patiently on the couch.

“Ready?” he asked, handing you your glass of wine.

“You didn’t have to wait for me.” You gestured down at the untouched food.

He smiled at you. “I know.”

You sipped at your drink as he gestured to the tv.

“Movie for background noise?”

You hummed in thought. “Maybe music?”

He nodded in agreement. “What are you in the mood for?”

“Whatever you pick will be perfect.”

By the time he had made a selection, you had nearly finished your glass of wine. “So, the costumes are coming along well. I got the cutest lace for the trimmings of Alice’s dress. I’m not sure you’ll even be able to see it from the audience, but she’ll look adorable in pre and post-performance pictures.”

He shot you a beaming smile. “That’s some master craft. Your attention to detail is unrivaled.”

You knew that he was just playing, but it still made your stomach flip.

“Should we play our card game?” he suggested, padding over to the kitchen and snatching the bottle of wine off the counter.

You watched his movements as he poured your glass full again. “Thank you. Yeah, we can. Or did you want to be drunker first?”

He hummed. “One shot each?”

“Of vodka?” you inquired as you picked yourself off of the couch. “Where are the shot glasses?”

“I don’t think I own any,” he admitted as he watched you rifle through the cupboards.

You shot him a shocked look. “You’re a college kid; why would you not own a shot glass?”

“Well, we haven’t needed it thus far. I don’t throw a lot of parties if you haven’t noticed.” He gestured around the empty room. “We’ll each just take a pull from the bottle?”

“Okay, you first,” you agreed, thrusting the bottle at his chest. He took it from your grasp with a smirk and then pressed his lips to the rim. He drank until the count of three before swallowing hard and passing it along.

You followed suit, except with more difficulty. He had made it look so easy, you had almost forgotten how vodka tasted. You swiped your thumb across your lips, wiping them dry in the process.

You took your seats back on the couch next to each other as the music played through the room.

“Charcuterie?” you offered, gesturing to the coffee table full of food.

“Yes, of course.”

As you watched him make a cracker sandwich, you spoke. “So, should we crack this game open?”

After he nodded excitedly, you ripped into the plastic wrap.

“Okay, it looks like it’s essentially just a questions game. We just draw one at a time and the other person answers them,” you explained after skimming the inside of the box. “And you have to finish your drink if you can’t answer it.”

He laughed. “Okay, ladies first. I’m ready.”

You pushed the stack of cards over at him. “No way, you ask me first,” you stated with a cheeky smile.

He raised his eyebrows at you but relented. As he plucked a card from the deck, he took a sip of wine.

“What is your favorite color?” he asked, leaning in and squinting like the information you were about to provide was essential to his existence.

You snorted. “Really?” He nodded, prompting you to continue. You hummed as you thought about it. “It’s blue.”

“What kind of blue? Like navy or sky?”

You shook your head. “No, more like that blue that’s so blue it hurts your eyes. The one that was a new pigment discovered not that long ago - so bright it hurts.”

He gave you a sincere smile. “That’s a good pick.”

“What’s yours?”

“That’s not how this game works,” he said through a breathy laugh.

You frowned at him. “Yeah, well. Then I’m asking you as a friend. Josh, what is your favorite color?”

He pursed his lips as he considered his answer. “It’s hard for me to pick, but maybe either red or orange.”

You nodded in agreement as you reached for the deck. “I could see that. Okay, your turn.”

You stared at the card in your hand that read, WHO WAS THE LAST PERSON YOU SLEPT WITH?

“Are you alright?”

You snapped your eyes up to him, quickly nodding as you realized that he had been waiting patiently for you to read it.

“Okay,” he agreed cautiously. “That’s good. What’s the question?”

You couldn’t suppress an awkward smile as a heat rose to your face.

“It says, ‘who is the last person you slept with?’,” you informed in a humored tone. You even held it up for him to see.

He stared at the card like it just accused him of a heinous act. “You really got to answer the color question and I have to answer this?”

His intensity made you snort a laugh, though you were trying to hold yourself together so you didn’t spill your wine. “Okay, okay. I’ll answer it too. Maybe we can play the game where we both just answer it.”

“Do you just want to hear me talk about sex?” he prompted with a shit-eating grin.

You gave him a disbelieving look. “Are you- You’re the one that picked this game out!”

Your overreaction was clearly exactly what he had been looking for. You were anticipating his ribbing to continue, but it didn’t.

“The last person I had sex with,” he started, pressing his lips against the rim of his glass as he took a swig. “Was from my music theory class.”

“When?” you quickly asked, shocking even yourself.

“Is that part of the question?” he teased smugly, picking a kalamata olive off of the tray and piercing it with his finger before popping it in his mouth.

You licked your lips nervously. “No, it isn’t,” you admitted. “You don’t have to answer that, I was just curious.”

“You wanna get high?”

He was staring directly into your eyes when you looked up at him again.

“I feel like it’ll make it easier to answer these.”

You nodded at him, biting your bottom lip. “Yes. Yes, I do want to.”

“My room?” he asked, picking up both of your glasses as he stood.

“Your room,” you confirmed, following suit.

Through the slats in his blinds, you could see that the ground was completely covered in a white blanket of snow. You spent some time watching it fall from his bed as he packed a bowl.

“Here,” he said gently to get your attention. “You take the first hit. I’m going to light it and you’re going to suck in and hold it in.”

You nodded in understanding.

“Not too much though,” he warned.

The glass was cool in your hands as you took it from him. When he held the flame to it, you did as you were told before exhaling with care. He was looking at you with a proud expression when you met his eyes.

You handed it back over to him, waiting until he was in the process of taking a hit before you spoke.

“Tell me when you slept with her,” you demanded calmly, biting back a smirk at the way his breathing faltered.

It had turned into a game of chicken as you held each other’s gazes silently.

“You haven’t even answered the required question yet and you want me to do the extra credit?” he quipped.

“The last person I fucked was a guy from tinder back home, and it happened a couple of months before I left,” you informed him confidently. “I’ve only ever had one boyfriend, and he was a prick, so when we broke up, I went on a tinder bender just to feel something.”

A small smile spread across his pink lips as he listened.

“Now you.”

“She was my girlfriend last year. We broke up in April and I had a hard time saying no to late-night texts until the end of June.” His tone was sincere as far as you could tell, as were his eyes.

You were starting to feel the hit you’d taken by then, and you took a pause from the conversation to lean over the side of his bed and grab the bag of suckers you knew was waiting there for this very occasion.

The high washed over you in a gentle, pleasant manner, leaving you feeling a little dreamy.

“Sucker?” you asked, holding the bag open for him. He breathed a laugh - probably at you offering him his own candy - and then plucked one from the bag.

After he had it unwrapped, he held the bowl out to you again. “Want another? Or am I going to have to smoke the rest of this myself?”

“Yes, I’m sure that would be very rough on you, poor baby,” you teased.

He huffed a laugh, sitting up a bit straighter in his position. “You want another one or not?”

You stared at him wordlessly for longer than was socially acceptable, but when you finally spoke, it was with conviction. “I’ll have another baby hit.” You pulled the cards from the pocket of your pajama pants. “But then we’re playing another card, right?.”

He glanced down at the bowl and then back up to you. “When you say ‘baby hit’-”

“I mean I want you to blow it into my mouth with your mouth,” you explained cheekily, making him huff a laugh.

“You liked that, huh?” he asked, risking a dark glance up at you through his long lashes as his fingers played along the glass piece.

You knew exactly what you wanted to say - could hear it in your head, but your body felt tight with nerves at the thought of actually saying it. “Not as much as you did, I’m guessing.”

Oh, damn, you said it.

A smirk played across his mouth, his eyes half hooded. If you hadn’t been paying attention, you would have thought he was completely unaffected by your teasing, but you had been listening to his breathing, so you were perfectly aware when it changed slightly. It was just the smallest difference in sound like he was pulling in air through tighter lungs.

“Be careful with what you’re accusing people of.” A warning, definitely, but almost more of a challenge. In the months that you’d spent with him, you’d never seen him like that, but you suppose you wouldn’t have unless- Unless you were about to make him do something truly reckless.

You bit your bottom lip out of an anxious, excited energy. “Oh, my mistake then.”

The ball was in his court, and you could tell that he was expecting him to continue pressing him. A look of slight disappointment flashed behind his eyes, but you weren’t done yet.

You nodded toward the bowl, prompting him to glance down at it like he had forgotten what he was doing in the game he was playing with you. He kept eye contact with you as he brought it to his mouth and lit it. You watched the white smoke circle the inside of the globe before he sucked it into his lungs.

You tilted your chin up in invitation and tried to relax your muscles as he leaned in, his throat looking tight.

You felt his nose brush yours first before you realized you had closed your eyes in anticipation. The smoky smell hit you first when you realized you were supposed to be taking it from him. You opened your eyes and tried to breathe it all in, but most of it was lost to the room.

He had a tiny smirk playing on his features until you reached out and wrapped your hand around the back of his neck, pressing his forehead against yours in an abrupt motion. You could tell he had his teeth clenched by how tight his jaw looked.

You couldn’t stop yourself from playing your fingers along the sharp line of it.

“Do you want me?” you whispered, voice barely there at all.

Through a labored breath, he responded with a smoky sounding, “What would give you that impression?”

You couldn’t help the laugh that escaped you, but unsurprisingly, it came out sounding raw. Your fingers brushed across the short hair on the nape of his neck, the pleasant feeling causing his eyelids to flutter.

You leaned forward until you pressed your cheekbone against his, lips right by his ear, and pointedly asked, “Do. You. Want. Me?”

“Fucking of course, I do,” he spat through clenched teeth, sounding distressed as his hands wrapped around your waist, thumbs pressed into your hipbones on either side.

“Should we?” you asked, pulling back so you could see his face.

“Probably not.” His words were humored, a melodic laugh accompanying them, but still somehow managed to not sound any less strained.

You considered what he was saying for a moment, relishing in the idea that this was the last moment before the point of no return. “Just one hookup,” you reasoned.

He smirked at you, looking all too smug and disbelieving. “Okay,” he agreed.

Patiently, you waited for him to make the first move, your heartbeat bouncing around like a basketball in your chest. When you felt his hands move from your hips, your body tensed, trying to predict where they’d end up next.

As he cupped your jaw with both hands, you melted a little, muscles noticeably relaxing.

The kiss was tentative at first - just a brushing of his lips on yours like he was testing the waters. He held your face like he was afraid that you were going to vanish into thin air - like your presence was the key to his existence.

You could hear his shallow breaths as he opened his mouth, pressing it against yours. His tongue tasted like the orange sucker he’d abandoned on its wrapper on top of the dresser next to his bed. You lapped at it, body rising as you shifted to crawl into his lap. With the way he was sitting, cross-legged on his bed straddling him was a bit of a strain on your inner thighs, but the feeling was oddly pleasing - like a warm-up for the workout you were about to endure.

He let go of your face to place his hands back on your hips, pulling your body as close to his as it physically could be. Before he could situate you too firmly, you started to unbutton your pajama shirt, and bless his heart, he couldn’t help but watch your fingers work.

“Is this really happening, or this just a super high fever dream?” he asked, shaking his head as he frowned like he wasn’t sure he could trust his eyes.

You wanted to laugh at him, but you could hardly blame his disbelief. If someone had told you even earlier that week that you’d be in this position, you would have rolled your eyes at them. You hadn’t realized how much you wanted this until it was about to happen.

The last button undone, you let the garment fall, the pink and white striped fabric slipping off the bed and to the hardwood.

The cool air was shocking on your bare skin at first, causing it to tighten - well, that and you could practically feel his eyes raking over your chest.

“It’s happening,” you assured, leaning in until you were speaking against his parted lips.

The feeling of him brushing the pads of his fingers over your nipple made your breathing shudder. When you tipped your head back, he ducked in and pressed his mouth to your throat, dragging a stripe across your skin with the flat of his tongue. Every part of your whole body felt hot, but none more than between your legs. You tried to grind yourself down on him, but couldn’t seem to get a good angle - luckily, he seemed to notice, and halted your movements with his hands on your hips, stretching his legs out straight.

He pulled back just far enough to see your face when he ground you down onto him, the outline of his cock slipping against your core. Even with all the layers between you, the feeling still made you crumble against him, a whine escaping your lips of its own volition. It was clear that he felt it too as he bit his lip, his eyes fluttering.

You seized the opportunity to get your fingers under his shirt, lifting it over his head as he held his arms up for you. Before he could prepare for it, you pressed closer, pressing a kiss to his temple and then nipping at his earlobe. The cool metal of his earring was pleasing against your tongue, and you reveled in the moment as he sucked in a sharp, shocked breath.

His hands snaked around your sides, palms wide as he cupped your ass and used the leverage to pull you against him again. Burying his nose in the crook of your neck, he let a shaky breath escape him.

You could feel his thumbs hook under the elastic band of your pajama bottoms as he started to slip them down the cleft of your ass. Once it was bare, he ran his fingers over it, movement stalling as he looked at you with an eyebrow raised.

“Are you not wearing panties?”

You scoffed. “Not to bed, obviously. Are you implying that you wear something under those loose pants?”

The corners of his lips tilted up in a wicked smirk. “I encourage you to find out.”

You giggled at his confidence, sweetly nudging your forehead against his, so he didn’t expect the swift movement of your hand as you tugged the tie of his sweats down. The answer to your previous question was “no” - he hissed as you grabbed his erection, swiping your thumb across the head, glossy from the dim light through the blinds. It was just a tease though, because a split second later, you let go of it in favor of wrapping your arms around his neck and pressing your mouth against his again.

As you pressed him back, he tried to hold you, but once he realized you weren’t just leaning on him for support, he relented. You laid him back on his bed, pulling back as you slipped your bottoms off the rest of the way.

“Jesus,” he breathed as his eyes took in the whole of your naked body above him. “Hang on.”

He reached to the bedside table and grabbed the bowl and lighter. After he sucked in another hit and set the piece back down, he tugged you in roughly, depositing the smoke directly into your mouth. You tried to hold it in like he had taught you, but you were much more interested in getting your tongue into his mouth.

Still, you were plenty high, so much so that looking down on his bare form had tears threatening your eyes. He looked so soft and sweet despite the position he was in, his eyes half-lidded and one hand behind his head, one on your bare hip.

You shifted until you could grind your core against the length of him, the wetness letting it slip through easily.

“Fuck.” You had thought it was an exclamation of pleasure until you opened your eyes and saw a scowl painted across his face. “I definitely don’t have a condom.”

You hummed through a smile. “I don’t blame you, I definitely didn’t expect this.”

He frowned up at you. “We can just try something else if you want,” he offered.

“Well, I’m on birth control, and given the length of time between our last sexual encounters, I’m guessing we’re both clean - I know I am.”

He stared at you for a long moment before really realizing what you were implying, but once he did, he licked his lips in consideration.

“Come here.” You weren’t sure what he was requesting until he grabbed onto your thighs and guided you up until you were straddling his face.

The thought of it made you blush, and surely your cheeks were hot to the touch.

He started with broad strokes of his tongue, just dragging it through. You briefly wished he had a headboard for you to brace yourself on, but your thoughts quickly became completely incoherent. You decided you were going to lean back instead, placing your palms flat on his bent knees. When you were completely comfortable and situated, he started pointedly flicking his tongue against your clit directly, first very soft and teasing, but building to something rougher and more deliberate.

You thought you were actually going to shake apart when he sucked your clit right into his mouth, rolling the bead of it around on the flat surface. When you could feel yourself getting close to the edge, you threaded your fingers through his curls, keeping him close.

The moment you lost it, everything in the room melted away from you - just a black expanse with flicks of color littered throughout it.

You took a moment to catch your breath, trying to bring yourself, at least partly, back to reality. When you pulled away from him, you were met with the sight of him - the entire bottom half of his face slick with your come.

He only let you watch in fascination as it dripped from his chin for a second before he was pushing you back, your head laid at the foot of the bed. He slipped his sweats off the rest of the way before crawling over you.

There was no way you could have blamed him as he pushed in, seemingly not having any time for a slow entrance - you did make him sit there, untouched, for god knows how long. You certainly couldn’t name even a rough estimate for the amount of time passed.

The spark of pleasure that shot through you made you throw your head back, your spine arching as you let out a whine.

“I’m sorry, are you okay?” he breathed, through tight teeth.

“Yes,” you hissed as you ground yourself down onto him. “Keep going.”

Your eyes were closed, but you were sure he was wearing an awed expression. You grabbed the back of his neck, pulling him in until your foreheads were pressed together. When he started to move his hips, you let out a long, pleased hum, pressing your nails into the skin on his shoulders.

Your whole lower half was still incredibly sensitive, so every time he brushed you, it made you writhe a bit beneath him. “Mm, fuck,” you growled as he intentionally reached down and pressed his thumb into your clit, the feeling resting somewhere between “just perfect” and “way too much”.

He was biting his lip as he watched your reaction intently. You felt his hand snake down your outer thigh, gripping it from the bottom. He lifted it up, near-forcing you to wrap it around his hip.

The new angle was a different kind of feeling - something hot deeper in your gut like someone placed a smoldering ember in your belly. You weren’t paying attention to anything but your own impending orgasm, so you didn’t expect it when he sucked your nipple into his mouth. He raked his teeth over the bud, causing your hips to jerk against him.

When you opened your eyes and met his, you took a moment to absorb his expression - like he was seeing another dimension through your face.

You could tell he was close when his lips fell open, but that was perfect because he was taking you with him. You hitched your legs around his hips and squeezed, letting your head tip back.

When you came a second time, it was with his open mouth pressed to your throat, his hot breath hitting your damp skin. You let out a low whine, fingers tangled in his hair, probably a little too tight.

You suspected it was probably your muscles clenching in orgasm around him that set him off, a string of expletives falling from his kiss-swollen lips. His hips shuddered as he fucked you through it.

The other side of your collective climax was warm and fuzzy, like watching home videos from the ‘60s. When he was able to hold himself all the way up, you ran your fingers through his damp curls affectionately.

He was clearly trying to get his bearings, his breath flowing in and out of him like a tide.

“Are you okay?” he whispered, sounding like he might not be able to speak any louder than he currently was if he wanted to.

You hummed through a smile. “So good, Maybe never better.”

He rubbed his nose against yours, the smallest hint of an upward tilt to his lips. “I’m high as hell, so I’m not sure what’s acceptable for our situation right now, but can I kiss you?”

“We probably shouldn’t,” you admitted, making his expression fall slightly.

He nodded at you in reluctant agreement. “You’re right.”

You bit your bottom lip. “Ah, fuck it, we’ll start going back to normal tomorrow.”

#josh kiszka smut #josh kiszka #Greta Van Fleet #greta van fleet fan fiction #greta van fleet fic #brightest blue fic #gvf #gvf fic

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skzsauce01 · 3 years

Text

King of Hearts

Synopsis: The king of hearts has a very special surprise planned for his queen. Heavy inspiration from Alice in Wonderland and Alice Through the Looking Glass.

Warning: murder

Word Count: 4.5k

Pairing: fem!reader x king!Chan

The throne room looks best at night when the moonlight spills through the giant glass windows and illuminates the wall of weapons behind the throne. It is an odd array of mostly clubs, maces, and swords, but dead center in the wall and above the plush red velvet seat of the king is a heavy double-bladed axe. Crafted and honed to be as sharp as a diamond knife, it is the perfect tool for executions.

Tomorrow evening it’s gleaming, polished surface will splattered with the blood of a queen.

The king allows himself to admire his collection of weaponry for another minute before returning to his bedchambers where his wife is surely missing his warm presence.

“Good morning, sweet tart,” your husband purrs into your ear. “It’s a special day today.”

You have been awake for the past hour, pretending to be fast asleep when you were actually sneaking glances of Chan in various states of undress. However, you keep your eyes closed and your breathing steady, knowing that he will start planting kisses down your jaw if you’re not awake soon.

“I know you’re not really sleeping,” he continues. He taps the corner of your mouth, and you try not to smile. “I saw you looking earlier.”

You give up the charade and sit up. “Can you blame me?” you grin. “You always dress so nicely for court trials. How many are on the agenda today?”

“Four,” he replies, pulling you closer to him. You playfully squirm in his embrace, and he placates you with exactly four kisses on the crown of your head. “Will you be attending?”

You sink into him and wish you could stay there all day. Just the thought of your own schedule tires you. “I have to ‘entertain’ my sister.”

Chan’s throaty chuckle rumbles against your cheek. “Just until dinnertime, sweet tart. Then you’ll be free.”

“I know. Thank goodness she’ll be busy after dinner.”

Reluctantly you let go of your husband and stumble out of bed. Your dreadful sister will nag at you in that awful harpy-esque way of hers if you’re even a second late to breakfast. Chan makes a feeble attempt to grab your wrist before following you to the vanity.

“Is the king not needed in court yet?” you tease as you brush out the tangles in your hair.

He wraps his arms around your shoulders and presses his cheek against yours. “I’m missing something.”

It’s a silly tradition from your courting days: a kiss for each departure. He insisted on keeping it even when the two of you married, and you happily obliged. You turn to peck him on the cheek, but he twists his head so that your lips land onto his. He laughs at your noise of surprise and kisses you like he’s never going to see you again. It has been a while since Chan has been this intimate with you, and you eagerly return his affections.

“Someone’s in a good mood,” you remark when he finally pulls away. You feel warm all over, but Chan is as composed as ever.

He smiles, full dimples showing. “It’s a special day today.”

“Goodbye, darling,” you say as you watch him leave the room through the vanity mirror.

He gives you one last glance before disappearing through the door. You note that he didn’t bother to fix his mussed up hair and giggle when you picture how he’ll look with the crown on his head.

It’s a good start to a bad day.

“You’re late,” is what your older sister greets you with.

You sit across from her at the dining table and do your best not to scowl. You wonder how the servants feel about her. There are none in the room, so in typical fashion, she must have dismissed them for one negligible reason or another. “Good morning to you too, Nari.”

“What are you wearing? Does this kingdom only wear red and black?” she continues. She picks up her cup of tea and stares at you above the lip, waiting for you to explain. Even with a team of royal advisors and a sister married to a foreign king, she still refuses to learn anything about kingdoms other than her own.

You sigh and try to remember Chan’s words. You only have to suffer through this until dinner and then your sister will finally be gone. “It’s a court day, so everyone wears red and black. It’s custom.”

“You and your frivolous trials,” she scoffs. “What’s the point when they’re all guilty anyway? So, are you going to ask about my trip? Where are your manners, little sister?”

You’re certain she means well when she nags you, but it doesn’t make it any less irritating. “How is everything at home?” you ask instead, knowing that will produce a shorter answer.

“Fine. Felix is ruling in my stead, but most of my advisors are with him, so he’ll have no trouble with it.” Nari picks up a scone topped with confectioner’s sugar and eyes it curiously before taking a bite. “Your sweets are quite good.”

You primly nod and pour yourself a cup of tea. Breakfast is mostly silent, and you’re glad that you nor your sister care to make conversation. You can barely stand her when she’s in a tolerable mood, and it seems like she’s nothing of the sort today. Her usual haughty disposition is only tempered by her breakfast of sweets. Nari seems to be enjoying the food with less complaints than usual, and you feel just a bit smug.

When the servants come to clear away the plates, you hollowly suggest to show Nari the rose gardens. She cheerfully agrees and links arms with you as you lead her outside.

It’s an uncomfortable feeling to have her so close to you after you haven’t seen her in a year. It’s even odder when you realize that she hasn’t linked arms with you since you were five and she eight. You mindlessly point out a few varieties of flowers on the way to the garden and wonder why your normally cold sister has turned warm.

“Is everything alright?” you ask once you have led her to the middle of the garden. The sweet scent of the roses always relaxes you, and hopefully they will do the same for Nari. “You’re acting strange all of a sudden.”

She lets you go and stands in front of you. “Your husband. I don’t like him.”

“We courted for two years,” you remind her, frowning at the memory of her telling you the same thing when Chan first arrived at your home. “And we’re married now. I know you don’t like him, but there’s nothing you can do now.”

She shakes her head. “Do you know what the village girls call him? I stopped in town yesterday, and all the girls could talk about was Chan, the King of Hearts! They went on and on about his ‘perfect face’ and ‘perfect body.’ Think about what he’s done to get such a name!”

“Be an eligible, handsome future king?” You sigh and grab a nearby rose to stick your nose in. You will not give her the satisfaction of setting you off. “Nari,” you begin, your terse voice muffled by the petals, “it’s natural that you want to protect me, but if you’re only here to criticize Chan, then I’m not sure what to do with you during your stay.”

“I saw him stare at me when I arrived last night,” she protests. “Like an animal, unabashed.”

You almost snort at her claim. If anything, Chan dislikes Nari more than you do due to her constant nitpicks of him during the courting years. The incessant “You will never be good enough for her” and “Stay away from my siblings” surprisingly did not deter him from proposing to you.

“I’m sure it was disdain, not lust,” you dryly reply.

“I feel like I’m being watched in this place,” she continues, ignoring your remark. “I don’t trust him or anyone here.”

No wonder why she suddenly put on a facade the moment the servants stepped in the dining room.

“What do you think of the garden?” you ask to change the subject. You cannot fight with her on court day and with so many guests in the castle. “These are our prized roses. Chan said it took the gardeners and florists years to breed them.”

Nari glances at the flower you hold and purses her lips. “It looks like someone painted a white rose red. There’s still spots of white on them. You’re certain they were bred and not painted?”

You swallow the retort in your throat and reach out for another rose to inhale. Nari is just being Nari.

“How about a game of croquet?” You take her elbow and start leading her to the croquet court without waiting for a response. “I think you’ll enjoy it. I’ll teach you how to play.”

Nari roughly snatches her arm back, and her eyes flash with an unfamiliar fire. “You’re not taking any of this seriously, little sister. All the village tarts have likely been with him already, so you mean nothing to him! Isn’t that his cute, little pet name for you too? ‘Sweet tart?’ You’re pathetic.”

For all Nari has said in the past, she has never directly insulted you like this. The fragile restraint you have on your emotions snaps.

“You just hate Chan because he didn’t want to marry you!” you shout, pointing an accusing finger at her. “You’re just bitter that he chose me instead of you! And do you know why he and no one else likes you? Because you’re a cold, angry, bitter hag that nitpicks everything! And you think you’re such a perfect ruler, but the truth is that your advisors hate you and like Felix better! I bet the entire kingdom is happier without you!”

It comes out in one long breath, and you’re red in the face from screaming years of pent up feelings at your sister. It feels good to let it all out. With a sick sense of delight, you watch as Nari turns scarlet and as her eyes gloss over with tears.

“I’m going back to my chambers,” she frostily says.

She pushes past you, and you don’t try to follow her. Even though it’s a longer way back to the castle, you take the opposite path and head to the courtroom.

At least someone will be happy to see you.

You appear placid when you enter the courtroom, which is just the throne room with extra chairs for the jury and audience. Everyone stares at you as you walk to the empty seat reserved for you at king’s side.

“Hello, darling,” you whisper to him as you fluff out your skirts. “My sister decided to retire early to her room.”

He nods in reply and turns back to the defendant. “Proceed.”

Despite his reserved facade, he places one hand on top of yours and starts fiddling with your fingers to try and make you burst out into laughter. It’s a game you and him play during court days, and he has won the past three rounds. However, by the time the defendant is found guilty, neither of you have broken each other.

Chan calls to break for afternoon tea, but you and him linger in the empty room.

He helps you up from your seat and pulls you into an embrace in one fluid motion. “Court is much more fun with you,” he sighs into your hair. “Have I mentioned how stunning you look in red?”

“Only every time I wear it.” You reach up and brush a stray curl from his temple. “Might I say, you look even more handsome than when I saw you this morning.”

“It must be all the guilty verdicts. Are you going to watch the executions in the evening?”

“I always do.” Your eyes fall onto the double-bladed axe above the throne. “It’s my favorite part of court day.”

“I think you’ll enjoy today’s very much.” He slips his arm from your waist to your hands and begins leading you to the dining hall. “I heard the cook made jam tarts for tea today. Your favorite.”

You lean into him and smile at his pleased expression. “You requested them, didn’t you? She hasn’t made them in ages!”

“Sweet tarts for my sweet tart,” he playfully says, kissing your fingertips and making you giggle. “I thought they would make afternoon tea with your sister less awful.”

The mere mention of Nari turns your mood sour. “I hope she skips tea.”

“Did you two quarrel?”

“When do we not?”

Two servants open the door to the dining hall, and to your vast disappointment, you spot Nari seated at an empty table by a window, a cup of tea in hand. Her head is turned, and you can’t see her face, but she is the only person in the room not wearing red and black.

You hesitate by the door, and Chan nudges you toward her. “Your sister’s here.”

“Don’t you hate Nari?” you try. “Please don’t make me talk to her.”

“I do, but politics. She’s my sister-in-law” — he doesn’t even bother to hide the disgust in his voice — “and the queen of a foreign kingdom. You hate her less than I do.”

The last part is debatable. “I get a front seat at the executions tonight,” you negotiate. “And jam tarts for tea for the rest of the week.”

Chan gratefully kisses your cheek and murmurs into your ear, “You can request jam tarts from the cook whenever you like, you know. I’ll see you after.”

You should have demanded more, like handling executions instead of getting a front row seat to them. He would have never agreed to that.

While he leaves to chat with some aristocrats about the past trials, you stiffly walk towards your sister. You take the empty chair in front of her and curtly say a greeting. She says nothing and instead pours you a cup of tea. For a minute, the two of you choose to sip your drinks and nibble on the quiches and tarts.

“Have you come to apologize?” Nari says in a strange brittle way. She finally looks up from the table, and you see that her eyes are ringed with red.

You want to say no because you haven’t, but a small part of you feels guilty for making her cry. As far as you remember, Nari stopped crying when she was eight.

However, you’re still upset. “No because you’ve never apologized to me. For saying all those things about me and for being rude to Chan all the time.”

“I meant all those things.”

“So did I.”

Another silence. You sneak glances at her, and judging by the fact that she’s still chewing on the same mini quiche from two minutes ago, she’s barely holding it together.

“Here,” you abruptly say, placing a raspberry jam tart on her plate. “I know you like sweets better.”

You can see her debating whether she should take your peace offering or not. Her jaw is set as she looks down at it, but her fingers twitch like she wants to grab it and taste it.

“It’s good, I promise.”

She takes a cautious bite of it and slowly reaches for another from the tower of treats. In the meantime, you refill your cups with more tea and smirk when you see the content expression Nari has when she finishes the tart. Across the room, Chan gives you an encouraging smile at your efforts.

“How’s Felix?” you ask. Your little brother is usually a safe topic. “He’s going to be old enough to be king soon, isn’t he?”

“According to you, he’ll make a much better ruler than me,” she sniffs. “But I’m the eldest, so I was always going to be queen. Unlike whatever nonsensical laws you have here.”

She says ‘here’ like she said ‘pathetic’ earlier. Nari says something about Felix and how his studies are going, but you’re too concerned with keeping your anger in check to hear it.

“You can never leave anything alone, can you?” you snap in the midst of her spiel. You wrap all of the tarts — yes, every single one from the tea tower, much to your sister’s dismay — in a bundle of napkins and stand up. “I’ll see you at dinner, Nari.”

You hear her huff a reply about how immature you’re being, but you don’t care. On your way back to the courtroom, someone grabs your wrist and spins you toward them.

You already know it’s Chan. “I tried but—”

“Are you really going to take all those tarts and share none with me?”

“Oh?” You hold out the napkins and let him pick between raspberry jam and lemon curd. “You’re not here to come tell me to make nice with my sister?”

“I saw it wasn’t going well, so I called for court to resume in ten minutes,” he says, licking the leftover jam from his fingers. He smiles reassuringly at you. “Don’t lose your pretty head over her. She’s…”

“Annoying? Rude? Deserving of none of our kindness?”

He stifles a laugh at your tone and starts leading to the courtroom. “Difficult,” is what he finally settles upon, but you can hear the exasperation in his voice. “She won’t be a problem for you much longer though.”

“I can hardly wait until tomorrow,” you sigh. “Goodbye, dreadful Nari.”

All the pastries are finished by the time you and Chan take your designated seats. No one else has arrived yet, so Chan takes off his crown and rests his head on your shoulders. He contently sighs and nestles his face into the crook of your neck.

“I think you’ll like this trial,” he mumbles, his tickly breath making you giggle. “It’s why jam tarts have been a scarcity for the past two weeks.”

“Is the cook on the stand?” you joke. The double doors to the throne room start to open, and you raise your shoulder. “Darling.”

Within seconds, King Bang Chan is back and your adoring husband shelved away. More people fill the empty seats in the room, and you watch the entrance carefully to ensure your sister hasn’t decided to show up and make your day worse. It’s unlikely since she is bound to be upset, but you can never be too sure. As expected though, she never arrives, and you sigh in relief. When the trial begins, Chan’s hand is over yours, fiddling with your fingers again. You gladly continue the game as the defendant enters in chains, flocked by two guards.

However, no one wins. The trial is quickly over as the knave is soon found guilty of stealing fruit preserves from the royal kitchen. After the courtroom clears out and you and Chan exchange departing kisses, you retire to your chambers to get dressed for dinner while he goes off elsewhere to attend to more kingly duties.

You don’t see him again until you have finished your bath and the maids are pinning up your hair. Through the vanity mirror, you watch as he enters the bedchambers with his crown missing, hair mussed, and the top of his shirt unbuttoned.

“Hello, darling,” you call out, noticing his satisfied smile. “I see you enjoyed whatever it was that you were doing earlier.”

He gestures for the maids to leave, and they do so in a hurry. He walks over to you and wraps his arms around your shoulders, pressing his lips to your neck at the same time. Every part of you is hyper aware of his proximity when he mumbles, “I did.”

He protests when you lean away and weakly cite your delicate half-done updo. Despite his feelings, he gives you a kiss on your temple and goes to take his bath; dinner will be starting in an hour.

Unsure of what to make of Chan’s reply, you call the maids back in and sit like a statue while they finish your hair. Nari is wrong, you tell yourself. She doesn’t know a single thing about your husband.

Her accusations of him, however, swirl around in your head, and they are all you can think about when there are no more hair tugging and pin stabbings. When Chan emerges from his bath, whistling the cheery execution song, he grins at you and says in tune, “Have I mentioned you look beautiful in red?”

A different kind of chill washes over you, but you still reply back with a stiff smile. “Only every time I wear it.”

He walks over to you and wraps one arm around your shoulders. The scent of soap and cologne that you typically find so comforting is suddenly pungent and overpowering. You can see that his other arm is hidden behind his back, and you can’t look anywhere else.

“Here,” he says. He tucks a red-and-white rose behind your hair, and you jump a bit when you feel the dampness of the petals against your skin. “I’m surprised you didn’t notice these in the bath. They’re your favorite.”

“It’s been a long day,” you tell him. You abruptly stand up and nod to the door. “Should we get to dinner?”

He loops his arm around your waist and leads you to the dining hall. “Were those tarts not filling enough?” he teases. “Or are you just excited for the executions after?”

“I suppose both.”

The finale of court day is the last thing on your mind.

Dinner passes by in a blur. For the first time of the day, you actively look around for Nari and are shocked and disappointed when she doesn’t show up. Maybe you should have been kinder. You airily laugh at the jokes the aristocrats make and make a few of your own about the trials, but your mind and eyes go back to Chan. He sits at the head of the table and merrily cheers with others over another successful court day. You catch him gazing lovingly at you occasionally, and you don’t know what to think anymore.

Soon, the crowd gathers to the execution site outside where servants have set up chairs and lit lanterns. As promised, Chan lets you have the best seat in the house. You sit quietly while he changes into his executioner’s robes and while he is presented with his double-bladed axe.

The guards bring the criminals from the prison, their heavy chains clanging against one another. Four guilty verdicts, four heads to roll. You normally would be thrilled by this prospect, but tonight’s jubilation has been dulled. Nevertheless, you clap after each punishment and admire how clean the cuts are. The wooden chopping block soon drips with blood, and a metallic tang fills the air.

A servant comes to dispose of all the remains, and most of the audience turns to leave, but Chan still lingers around.

“There’s still one more execution left,” he announces. He wipes the blade clean and nods at the guards. “A very special one I planned in surprise for my wife.”

You hear the gasps before you can even process his words. You turn to find out what the fuss is about, and your eyes grow wide when you spot a familiar lily-white dress through the crowd.

“Darling,” you shakily ask, “what is this?”

Chan grins widely at you and readjusts the axe in his grip. “You’re going to be the queen of two kingdoms, sweet tart.”

The guards force your sister to stop in front of you, and Chan rips off the gag in front of her mouth. Nari doesn’t say a word, but the look in her eye says it all: “I told you so.”

“What is this?” you repeat. You wring your hands in the folds of your skirts and try to figure out what exactly is happening.

Your sister is about to be executed for unknown reasons, your husband seems rather nonchalant about the whole situation, and you suppose you are as well. With the chains manacled around her wrists and the guards standing behind her, Nari feels like just another criminal to be punished.

“For starters, you and I don’t like her,” Chan says, walking closer. He glances over at Nari. “She’s a terrible queen, and from what I’ve been told by my advisors, she’s too busy with pretending to be a queen to actually rule.”

“He’s a liar!” Nari spits out, flushing bright red at the allegation. “Don’t you forget that he has mistresses all over town and that you’re just another pretty plaything to him!”

The audience, having heard her accusations, gasps again, and a wave of whispers rolls through the crowd. You glance over at Chan to see his reaction.

He looks terrifying.

His usual cool composure is streaked with anger so hot, you can almost feel it radiating off of him. He thickly swallows, and his hand bearing the bloodstained axe starts to shake. His breathing turns ragged when he finally looks at Nari.

“You think that I would have an affair? You think I would be disloyal to her?” The next sentence comes out in a cold, calm breath. “I’ll execute you on that charge alone.”

“Wait!” you shout at Chan before he can drag her to the execution block. More quietly, you say, “Explain yourself. When you came into the room.”

His face softens as he realizes the implications of his earlier appearance. He cups your face with his free hand. “I was getting your sister taken to the prison. Unfortunately, she wouldn’t go on her own accord, so there was a bit of a scuffle. The guards took care of her later though. I could never be disloyal to you, Y/N.”

No pet names, no teasing. He’s dead serious.

You switch back to your sister, who is still clinging firm to her beliefs. Look at her steadfast expression! “You’re the liar,” you sardonically laugh. “You almost made me believe your lies! You… you almost turned me against my husband! And what for? Your own jealousy?”

“To protect you! And I was right too!” She sharply nods at the crowd of aristocrats. “Look at this madness! Court days and execution parties?”

“Like you don’t order the deaths of criminals yourself!” You motion for the guards to take her to the execution block. You hate her so much right now, and you can barely see past the haze of red overtaking your vision. “Goodbye, Nari.”

“So you’re just going to let him kill me?” she yells. She tries to grab your shoulders at the last second, but the guards pull her back. “He’s an awful man, killing me for such a petty reason! And you’re pathetic for standing by him!”

Pathetic.

It echoes in your ears, and you want to snatch the axe out of Chan’s hands and do it yourself. However, you instead bite out, “Shut up. It’s the least you can do to apologize to me.”

Chan cleans the blade with the cloth from Nari’s gag, and you watch as the white fabric gets painted with scarlet like your sister’s stupid notion about the roses. He raises the axe over her head, and the metal flashes in the lantern light.

You look your sister in the eye. “Off with your head.”

And off her head goes.

~ ad.gray

#stray kids #skz #bang chan #stray kids fic #skz fic #stray kids scenarios #skz scenarios #stray kids imagines #skz imagines #stray kids angst #skz angst #bang chan scenarios #bang chan fanfic #bang chan imagines #bang chan angst #stray kids au #skz au #20210408

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gifted-burnout-archive · 4 years

Text

The Other Side of Hollywood

Part One

Requested?: fuck no, I wrote this one all for my ownsome.

Word Count: 4.0K+

Author’s Note: My GOD! Julie and the Phantoms is amazing, and while I have the theory I enjoy it so much because I didn’t really have a ‘teenage years’, I really don’t give a shit. I’m writing Luke Patterson fluff and you can all suck it!

Warning: um, none yet. This is a very PG show so PG fic.

Context: This is a reader insert mini series. It goes from 1x05 of JATP until the end, I’ll be releasing a part every day/two days. It is Luke x Reader, as much as I love my Juke ship, so Luke and Julie’s relationship is a lot more friendly than in the show. Also, some scenes may be different, dialogue from the show is used, yada yada.

Some might not believe it, but life starts, properly starts, when you die. At least, it did for Y/N Y/L/N.

Her life on earth had been short, and dull, and ended tragically with plenty left undone: it didn’t surprise her that she came back as a ghost. If anything, she would have been a bit shocked if she hadn’t: she had, after all, died with so much potential wasted, so much she could have done.

She was lucky that Caleb had found her.

“5 minutes ladies!” A voice called from afar, receiving a chorus of ‘thank you five’ from around the dressing room as performers hurried to get the last of their makeup and hair done, readying for that’s night’s performance, and knocking Y/N from a stupor. She came back to reality, taking the lid off the lipstick she had been playing with for the last ten minutes and finally applying it, then proceeding to take the curlers out her hair and slip on her heels for the night. Caleb had mentioned for her to be on the look out for special guests in front, and she had dressed in her best costume for the occasion.

She heard a sigh of relief as she finally moved from the mirror, a few of the girls crowding the vanity to start applying their finishing touches, none of them brave enough to interrupt Y/N’s ponderings: she may have died at 17, but none of the dancers had been with the club as long as she had, none were as faithful to Caleb as she was.

She had been his right-hand woman for almost 25 years now, some of the staff had barely been there a quarter of that time.

Her heels clicked as she headed for the stage, blowing a pin curl from her face and tucking it back into place as she took a spot on the stage and looked out at the crowd forming: from the looks of it, that night would be their busiest all week. The lifers were starting to settle at tables, collecting the last drinks before the opening number of the evening, mingling with excitement in the air and secrecy on their lips: they were getting to experience something forbidden, something beyond reality, after all.

She scanned the room, looking for the familiar face she had grown to love over the past decades, finally finding him stood in his best tuxedo – which consisted of a tailcoat, patterned black and gold shirt, and a pair of tailored board shorts – at the foot of the staircase with three boys around the same age as them, all watching in awe as lifers passed through them and proceeding to question her best friend.

“Willie!” She called, running over with a wave and a smile to him and the trio, getting a good look at them all as Willie’s arm came around her waist and hugged her into his side. The first, a familiar looking tall, lanky blonde kid in a jean jacket that Y/N was sure was the guy Willie had been gushing over just an hour or so earlier; the second was the tallest, close to a foot taller than Y/N herself, with quiffed black hair slicked back with gel, dressed like a new age Rockstar in leather and red colours. And then the third, with a dopey grin and a mop of chocolate hair on his head, paired with a painted denim overcoat and obscure band tee underneath, who unashamedly looked her over as she stood at Willie’s side.

“Guys, this is Y/N, my best friend.” Willie introduced her to be met with raised eyebrows from the three. By appearance alone, Willie constantly in a state of casual skater attire, and Y/N stood in front of them with pin curls, high heels and a blue sequin number that accentuated every one of her features, it just didn’t seem like they could be friends. “She looks a lot different in the day time.”

“Very funny William.” Y/N quipped back, elbowing him playfully in the side. “Why don’t I show you all to your table?” She offered, holding out a hand to the one in the leather jacket, who took her hand with a slack jaw and dumbfounded nod of the head.

“Yes, yes please.” He managed, and Y/N led the four down to their table, front and centre. “I’m Reggie, by the way. And that’s Alex and Luke. We’re in a band… Actually, we’re here tonight because-” Reggie started to ramble, but Y/N held a manicured finger to his lips, an innocent smile on her face.

“We don’t talk business here. You sit down and enjoy the show, alright? I’m sure Willie can keep you company, sort you boys out.” She said with a flirty tone, a habit she had grown into working the HGC scene: easier to flirt with the guests, often means a bigger pay-out by the end of the night. Willie pulled out a chair for Alex, the blonde one, who smiled shyly at her friend and sat down, Luke the last to take his place at the table.

“Y/N, is it?” He asked, looking her over a second time. He sat back in his chair, a smirk on his face as she came closer, her hand resting on the back of his chair.

“Careful there handsome, I don’t fraternise with guests.” She laughed a little as she said it, blowing a kiss in his direction before disappearing back stage for the show, soon to start. It took Luke a second to look away, to focus back on what the three had come there for: their old bandmate had stolen their music, passed it off as his own, and they were quite intent on making him pay.

“Ok, so, who’s going to make us visible so we can confront our old band mate?” He asked Willie, looking around the room at the lifers, wondering if one of them had the same weird power Julie seemed to possess.

“Oh, no, no, none of these lifers have the power to do that.” Willie corrected, just as music started up from the stage. “Oh, but here comes the ghost who does.” Willie drummed his fingers on the table in excitement, leaving the three bandmates rather confused. Willie had brought them there with no real information about what or who they were meeting.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” a male voice announced from nowhere in particular, “Back from the dead by popular demand, please welcome Caleb Covington.” The words were met with applause and cheers from the crowd, Willie letting out a few whoops and prompting the boys to start clapping as in a puff of purple smoke, a man appeared in the middle of the air.

“Did you miss me?” he asked, reaching his arms out in a gesture of thanks to the loving crowds, dressed in black and purple satin. He was met with a collective ‘hell yeah’ from the audience, causing Reggie, Luke and Alex to share side glances, all a little on edge. “I did too!” He responded, met with laughter and more cheers. “Welcome to the party of your dreams!” He introduced, his voice commanding attention and respect, not to mention his floating in mid-air. “From the Egyptians to the Druids, to the person sitting next to you, we’ve all wondered ‘where do we go when that final light is snuffed out’?” The bandmates couldn’t deny, this Caleb guy was certainly intriguing. “Let me show you.

“Let me introduce myself, we’ve got some time to kill. Consider me the pearly gates to your new favourite thrills.” He moved forward in the air, floating closer and closer to the boys’ table at the front, and Luke couldn’t help but feel that Caleb was singing to them, to him. “We could go make history or you could rest in peace, but here there ain’t no misery cause on the other side we live like kings.

“Whatcha gonna do, whatcha gonna do? Let your body loose, let your body loose. Whatcha gonna do, whatcha gonna do? Show you a thing or two cause you ain’t seen nothing…” With a flick of his cape as he landed down, the stage suddenly filled with musicians and dancers, all ghosts that had been invisible to even the four dead boys in the front.

“Life, is good on the other side of Hollywood.” The song continued, and as his counterparts took in the full ensemble on stage, Luke found his eyes drifting to the girl they had met, Willie’s friend Y/N. She had managed in the few moments from leaving to arriving on stage to have sprayed a lock of her curls blue, and come into possession of a feather fan the same colours as her dress. Another girl stood across the stage in the same attire, except she also sported a blue wig and headpiece, which it seems Y/N had forgone.

Luke had reason to stare of course: not only was she beautiful, but a talented dancer, and as Caleb sang away she joined in on backing vocals, the pair linking arms as she danced around him, then spun into a dip, Caleb’s arm holding her steady as she fluttered her fan. Movement around them snatched his attention from her, waiters in pink suits coming from all sides to form a circle around Caleb.

What followed was a barrage of temptation: from the countless desserts circling past to the girl that appeared from under their table cloth to the trapeze artists and the dancing that got everyone on their feet and cheering along. It was only after Caleb ended the number by disappearing thanks to the help of Y/N and her fellow fan girl that the room finally settled down a little.

“This is so cool…” Reggie muttered, waving to some lifers across the room: they could see him, see them: actually see them.

“Dude, I knew I recognised him.” Alex gestured, pulling Reggie’s attention from his apparent visibility and Luke’s from scanning the room for a certain girl in blue. “He’s the guy that bumped into me outside the Orpheum.”

“Wait. Isn’t he that magician dude that died a horrible death doing a trick?” Reggie asked Willie, who laughed a little in response.

“Yeah, but I wouldn’t bring that up whenever we meet him.” Alex scolded Reggie, who rolled his eyes in response.

“Yeah, but you should come back when he shows one of his movies.” Willie interjected with a grin. “I mean, for Titanic, he literally floods the entire place. I mean, the guy has got skills.”

“Alright, but he can, like, wave his arms and make ghosts visible to lifers?” Luke asked, perhaps the most rooted in reality after the performance, still quite set on their goal for coming here, for cutting it short of their performance with Julie.

“Told you, the guy’s got skills.” Willie shrugged, and Reggie looked back at the stage.

“So, uh, where’d he go?” He asked, taking a glance into the stage wings before turning back round and jumping back about a foot in surprise, Caleb stood right behind Alex and Luke. “Oh wow! Found him! Ha!”

“Hello boys, Caleb Covington. Welcome to the Hollywood Ghost Club.” Caleb introduced himself, a smile on his face and the accent of a fifties radio presenter. “Enjoying the show?” He asked, and Luke took lead.

“That was… I mean… Did you… Like…” He tried to articulate it, but found his mind going back to the girl in the blue dress and went a little red, and gave up trying to find the words, letting his appraising arms fall to their sides.

“I know.” Caleb responded with a light chuckle.

“This is Alex, Luke, and Reggie.” Willie introduced them all to Caleb.

“it’s really nice to meet you.” Alex offered, Reggie following it with a peace sign and a ‘sup?’, which put a smile on Caleb’s face.

“The pleasure is all mine. Nothing warms my heart more than sharing this magic with new friends.” Caleb explained, gesturing for the boys to take a seat as he took one of his own. “Now, our friend Willie here tells me you guys have some magic of your own?” He questioned Alex, who’s eyes widened at the man’s quizzing.

“Willie and I? I wouldn’t call it magic exactl-” Alex started his response, his voice getting squeakier as he went on, but was quickly cut off by Willie’s hand on his shoulder.

“He means your ghost abilities. You know, like, to be seen by everybody when you play with Julie.” Willie corrected. Alex started an apology, but Caleb raised a hand, showing it wasn’t needed.

“Yeah, but we can’t really wave our arms and do all this magic stuff.” Luke added, but Caleb didn’t seem phased by his humbling of their ability.

“Well, I’ve had some practice. Our gifts are so rare, so special. It’s not often I come across other spirits who possess similar talents.” Caleb explained. “It’s no surprise we found each other.”

“Yeah, that… definitely…” Luke agreed, and Caleb smile briefly, standing from his chair.

“If you’ll forgive me fellas, I gotta go pay the bills, if you know what I’m saying. I’ll be back later to chat.” The host excused himself, all of their eyes following to find Willie’s friend Y/N stood in a black dress, waiting for Caleb. “My darling! Oh, look at that dress! Where have you been?” He asked her.

Unbeknownst to the bandmates, Willie and Y/N shared a glance as Caleb took her by the waist and led her towards the back stage area, and Willie checked the time.

9.10… The boys were late to their gig, and if the Hollywood Ghost Club had anything to do with it, they would never arrive.

As the night continued on, and after Reggie learned the shocking revelations that not only was Han Solo killed in the Star Wars franchise, but that they added a character named Jar Jar Binks, Willie found himself fleeing for a moment. He had spent the entire night with Alex, and the more time he spent with him, the more he liked the guy.

Willie needed some air, a break, and in searching for it he ran into Y/N.

“Aren’t you meant to be out there? Flirting with the lanky one?” She asked with a teasing tone, running her fingers through her curls, slowly separating them into waves. “He’s cute, I’ll give you that. And your type. And dead, which is a huge bonus. I’m tired of watching crush over men you can’t actually touch.”

“Yeah well… He was asking too many questions, didn’t want to spook him.” Willie shrugged, rubbing his arm. He didn’t like the feeling in his stomach, and Y/N could tell he felt off.

“Do you need to sit this out? I can keep them entertained; I have a feeling the one in denim has arms like Adonis.” She offered with a giggle, and Willie frowned a little. “Oh come on, Willie… It’s not like they’re being branded or anything. We’re just…” She paused, glancing over as she spotted Caleb talking to the trio, then offering them stacked plates of food. “We’re perks to the package.” She winked at her friend, who rolled his eyes at her words and pulled her to his side for a hug.

“You make it sound like the dream job.” Willie chuckled, hanging his head a little.

“Isn’t it?” Y/N raised a brow, and squished his face between her fingers before planting a kiss on his cheek. “Let them eat for a while, join them later if you feel up to it. I’ll be getting denim on the dance floor though.” She shrugged, heading to go fix her makeup when Willie got her arm.

“His name is Luke… And from what I can tell, he’s actually a pretty nice guy.” He told her, met with a smirk and batting eyelashes.

“Just how I like them.” She replied, pulling her arm away and heading back to the dressing room, leaving Willie in a state of quandary.

By the time the final performance of the night was ready to begin, Reggie, Alex and Luke had eaten three platefuls of food each, having forgotten what pizza and burgers and meatball subs actually tasted like. And as Reggie found himself defending kissing his meatball sub to Alex, Luke felt a tap on his shoulder, and he turned to see Y/N stood behind him with a smirk painted on red lips.

“Well, how can I be of service?” He asked her, wiping the last traces of pizza grease from his fingertips onto his jeans, earning a genuine smile from the glamour model of a woman.

“It’s what I can do for you…” She replied, holding out a hand to him. “You’ll be in need of a dance partner shortly.” She explained as Caleb took the stage, starting his monologue about how “we do dessert”.

“I thought you said you didn’t fraternise.” Luke reminded as the music started up and the dance floor filled, the room once again alive with cheers and clapping. Y/N walked backwards into the middle of the floor, Willie quickly joining her centre stage as the beat picked up on entry into the chorus and the room got to their feet.

“You’re the exception to the rule, Denim.” Y/N called back, Luke grinning at the nickname she had given him, earning a nudge from Alex. He swatted his friend playfully as the three of them watched Y/N and Willie join in a huge dance routine.

Life is good on the other side of Hollywood.

Caleb’s voice resonated in the air as waiters, showgirls, and the like all started pulling patrons onto the floor with them. Caleb approached the trio, beckoning the girl who had popped up from their table earlier that night to dance her way through each bandmate: ending with a shimmy to the floor in front of Reggie that had the poor boy near unconscious.

As one of the girls in blue took the recovering Reggie onto the dance floor, and as Alex wondered where Willie had disappeared to, Y/N made her way over to Luke and offered her hand. This time, instead of asking questions, Luke took it eagerly. He didn’t hesitate in walking her on to the dance floor though, instead pulling her close by the waist as her hands rested on his chest.

“You know how to jive?” She asked him, the pair stood still for a moment amongst the chaos around them. There was so much of it, Y/N almost didn’t notice Caleb sending Willie backstage with a flick of his finger, but she was quickly pulled from her thoughts. Luke had responded to her question by taking her hand and spinning her out before coiling her back in. Her arms went over his head, Luke spinning this time as they began kicking feet in perfect synchronicity and in time with the music. Luke pulled Y/N close, lifting her up and spinning with her, causing the girl to shriek and throw her head back in laughter.

As the song came to an end, Y/N glanced back to the stage and received a firm nod from the belting host, her cue to leave. She spun Luke out of her grasp once she hit the floor, handing him over to one of the show girls who promptly dipped him at the same time as Reggie fell for the same move, leaving both boys laughing as Y/N disappeared behind the stage.

She and Willie had both done their jobs after all, she could go back to her room for the night, get some rest. She walked over to her vanity backstage, wiping away the stage makeup, brushing out her curls, and changing into more comfortable clothes. She only stopped when she heard the gong of the club’s clock.

Midnight.

She sighed, glancing in the mirror one last time before heading out to the front of house, noticing the boys she had been acquainted with that night were no longer on the floor, instead making a bee-line for the exit. Her feet were quick to follow, slowing only when Caleb poofed into place in front of the fleeing teens.

“Gentlemen, what’s the rush?” He asked, his eyes catching on Y/N for a moment as she disappeared back into the crowds. “The party’s just getting started, and you have eternity, after all.” He reminded them with a cheerful smile.

“You know that girl who can see us? We sort of bailed on her.” Reggie began through ragged breath, thanks to Alex and Luke pulling him from the dancefloor. “See, there’s this dance at her school and her friend Flynn is a super cool DJ, like-”

“Ok, I don’t think he has an eternity to hear the story.” Alex interrupted.

“Basically, we’re late for a gig.” Luke finished, and Caleb frowned at the words, prompting an eavesdropping Y/N to step a touch closer.

“But what about my offer?” Caleb asked, raising a disapproving eyebrow.

“It’s very cool of you, Mr Covington, but, like I said, we already have a-” Luke began again, but Caleb raised his hands in defeat.

“A band of your own.” He finished for the boys, Y/N pondering it over. Had Caleb wanted the three for the house band? “I understand… But boys, if you ever want to come back and fix that little problem with your friend, the Hollywood Ghost Club is always open.”

And there it was, the final temptation.

“Yeah man, we’d love to come back.” Luke smiled.

“Music to my ears!” Caleb returned the affectionate expression, offering a hand to each of the boys in turn. With each shake, the boys pulled back, a mark becoming branded on their wrist. When they frowned at the symbol, Caleb interrupted. “Oh, it’s just a little club stamp.” He assured, and their faces lit back up again. “Until next time.” Luke was first to exit, and Y/N followed after him quickly, stopping him just before he reached the stairs to leave.

“You’ve got good feet on you…” She said with a smile, catching him by surprising and evoking a smile.

“You’re not half bad yourself…” He countered, taking a few steps closer. She held a finger up for a moment, walking over to a table on the far side of the room and picking up a pen before returning.

“Arm.” She demanded, and Luke held it out willingly. Y/N frowned for a second, noticing the marking on his wrist, but didn’t let it stop her from pushing up his sleeve and writing a phone number on his arm. “You might think it’s bizarre, but I have access to a landline. There’s one at the club. Call me if you decide on coming back… Or…” She blushed a little, and Luke grinned.

“Or if I want to call up the pretty showgirl and see her outside of the club? I will.” He assured her, puling his sleeve back down as Reggie walked out the club, his eyes widening at the pair, having to take a second glance at Y/N out of her costume: while neither he nor Luke could read minds, they were both thinking the same thing.

Y/N somehow looked even better out of her showgirl get up.

Perhaps it was the mismatched converse high tops, or the fishnet tights under her ripped shorts, maybe it was the ripped band tee displaying the iron maiden cover art, Luke wasn’t sure. But she was gorgeous, and knowing she seemed to like what he did just added to the fact.

“See you around, Denim.” Y/N smiled, lifting the collar of his jacket for a moment before letting it go and heading inside, walking past Alex as she went.

“Was that Willie’s friend?” He asked in surprise, Reggie nodding.

“I think Luke’s in love.” He teased, earning a punch on the arm from the band’s led guitarist.

“Shut it, Reggie. Now, let’s get to that dance.” Luke quickly reminded them, the three quickly disappearing with the destination of Julie’s school in mind, all of them preparing for a major scolding for being three hours late.

Part Two is here...

Tags: @im-a-writer-right

#luke patterson #luke patterson x reader #luke patterson x y/n #jatp luke x reader #jatp luke #jatp #julie and the phantoms #fanfiction #fanfic #jatp au #reader insert #the other side of hollywood #luke patterson fluff #fluff

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nincompoopydoo · 3 years

Text

PAIRING, BAGELS, REPEAT

— US AGAINST THE WORLD ; PART 4 / ?

( credits to @animusrox for this gif )

PAIRING: Bruce Wayne x reader

WORD COUNT: 2247 hot diggy dog

SUMMARY: You have a heart-to-heart conversation with one of your students before the play and you're hit with the realization that your love for Bruce may be more than meets the eye. hence, you’re starting to wonder if it was a mistake you can never fix.

A/N: This one’s long and kinda depressing. I’m in an angsty mood now whoops. Nevertheless, thank you for reading this series, the bagels will make its appearance and enjoy this one folks.

WARNINGS: Anxiety, depressing thoughts.

MASTERLIST ; MASTERPOST

The night of the show arrived quicker than you anticipated. The flurry of theatre kids rushing about backstage is quite the sight, feeling the incredible sense of pride of a mother for her children. Yet in prayer, you ask Mrs. Wilson for the gift of strength and ability to manage a bunch of highly-strung teenagers. It’s only Shakespeare after all but you knew that wasn’t the genuine nature behind their stage jitters. With all tickets sold out within a week, it has easily become the biggest event of the year aside from homecoming. It may be a little pretentious for a high school production of an over-performed Shakspeare play to emerge as the highlight of the year, but you know it will help with some of the students’ portfolios for acting school.

The clock ticks—thirty minutes before showtime and panic starts to creep.

Your fingertips dance along the selvage of the extensive drapery of the stage as lighting queues are being run through for the last time. The urge of curiosity lets you crack open the curtain as you peeked at the rest of the theatre. The bustling crowd made up of mostly teenagers with seats rapidly being filled, it’s certainly a sight for sore eyes. Amongst the settling audience, you spot Bruce, seated between Mr. Walken, the principal, and Mr. Huckleberry, the vice-principal, likely being shamelessly asked for donations. He looks engaged, but his posture and the gaze of his eyes tell a very different story—Bruce is barely listening to a word they’re saying.

He then turns in the direction of your hiding spot and despite the distance, he catches your eye, immediately recognizing it’s you spying from behind the curtains. You watch the curve of his lips turn up into more of a smirk, swiftly sending a wink your way. You instantly disappear behind the curtains, cheeks burning.

You sometimes find it hard to believe you’re sleeping with the man with no strings attached because you’re incredibly attracted to him.

Someday, you’ll burst out into an exaggerated love confession, and you know it’s going to be ugly. It’s a reality check and right now, it’s the last thing you want. Running away from your problems is more of a habit than a choice as you would rather live in the world your mind has created, where miracles are made and defects cease to exist. Anyone would trade the cruelties of reality for a perfect one yet getting too caught up in a daydream will eventually evolve into toxicity. Bruce orbits the very core of your problems and daydreams. You want to run away from him and allow yourself to be engulfed by his presence at the same time.

You just need...to breathe. Hence, the second dressing room has a weird stench to it. It’s a mess but it’s empty. Yet, it seems you aren’t the only one in need of space, away from everyone else. Shaniqua is seated at the far corner of the room on a crooked metal chair, dressed in a somewhat modernized version of an Elizabethan era dress. Very elaborate and theatrical. Despite her introverted character, she was constantly bright-eyed and keen during your classes. She had a drive like no other. Hell, she miraculously memorized all her lines in two days.

You’ve never seen a furrow of the girl’s brows, until now, and it worries you. Even her glitter-covered eyes could not conceal the dismay they portray with prominence. Gingerly, you made your way to her as she stared at her fidgeting hands. It was only when you settled on the opposite dusty old chair when she finally noticed your presence.

“Stage fright, huh?” you casually asked, resting your arm on the dressing table. She mirrors your posture, heaving a deep sigh, and shakes her head. “No, it’s just,” A pause, her gaze finds yours. You nod, flashing her a smile. It’s a simple gesture that you’re here to listen. “It’s about Oscar...” You catch a hint of a smile as she trailed off and in an instant, your brow raises with curiosity. Oh? Another beat of silence, her eyes dart around the room. You sit quietly with patience because you knew she had more to say.

“It’s just that doing this play has got me thinking a lot about my feelings. I mean, if Romeo and Juliet could be lovers, despite their feuding families, then it must be easy enough for me to admit that I like Oscar.”

“You have a point.” You chuckle, eyes crinkling with amusement. Sometimes she thinks too much for her own good. She reminds you of Bruce. Shaniqua flashes you a faint smile, lips pressed with doubt. “But why am I finding it so hard to just tell him that?”

You stayed silent for a moment or two, mind deep in thought. The chair creaks as you shift in your seat. “Well, could it be that you aren’t sure if he likes you back?”

A hum in response, shrugging coyly as she mumbled a ‘maybe’. Although it was clear as day to you that Oscar liked her back, you wondered if her doubts emerged due to their differences in character. The familiarity of the situation is beginning to feel a lot like deja vu.

“How do you know that someone is the one?” Her sudden question catches you off guard because, in all honesty, you aren’t confident if you knew the answer. A straightforward question, commonly seen in the pages of teenage magazines, written for innocent eyes. You knew its true nature and it terrifies you. The image of Bruce charges through your thoughts like rushing water, memories of times when the two of you were younger clouding your mind. You forcefully push back your university days, buried back deep into your conscience.

“I don’t exactly know the answer to that but in my opinion, it’s—it’s the feeling of completeness when you love them and know they love you. They may be different from you, but it doesn’t make you love them any less. There’s no conflict or strife; it’s just the two of you against the world.”

Those words were raw and genuine, carefully crafted directly from the heart. You weren’t surprised by your words because you’ve thought about it a lot, especially on nights you slept on Bruce’s bed. Maybe, you do love him, and that's a huge ass problem. It’s amazing how unexpected situations tend to encourage apprehension on large issues you never knew existed in the first place. Perhaps it was your astonishing lack of discernment when it came to matters that could potentially alter your life.

Tonight, a sixteen-year-old girl did just that.

Amid your growing anxiety, you manage to catch sight of the wall clock, hung on the other side of the room. It’s now eight minutes until showtime. Your eyes are now wide as you sprung up from your seat in the sudden realization that everyone should be at their respective positions two minutes ago. “Oh God, we’re running late. Shaniqua, word of advice—don’t end up regretting something you didn’t do,” You shoot her a pointed look, index finger stretching towards her. “Now, you really need to go, or we’ll have to delay and you know Mr. Walken hates waiting.”

It’s a quarter to nine, and the theatre is empty. Outside, the foyer and the hallways are buzzing with the remaining audience, lingering and sharing inane conversations as others wait for a car to take them home. You had only just finished rearranging the costumes in the wardrobe of the dressing room. You tried to sweep the scatter of glitter all over the floor but it deemed a task as impossible; you’ll deal with it next week.

You’re sitting in the seat at the front row, nearest to the aisle with a large box filled with props on your lap. Alone in transcendental silence, feeling as empty as the theatre itself. It was partly the conversation you had with Shaniqua that hit you with the reminder of all the mistakes you made that have led you to this unchanging world of a blur that takes the blame for the wretched feeling in your chest. Yet, as the show progressed, hearing the words of affection from two lovers had sent your mind reeling. You were desperate to head home, crawl into bed and potentially cry yourself to sleep but the growing anxiety forbids it, you don’t even think you could drive home.

So, you stillness of the theatre reminds you of Edward Hopper’s painting, Solitary Figure in a Theater. With eyes shut, you pretend you are the figure in the painting, sheathed in black, sitting alone in the cavernous dark.

You hear the door of the theatre squeak, swinging open followed by the shuffling of feet. You don’t look at first, too tired anyway. You’d assume someone had either forgotten something or it was the janitor that you’re sure is going to be upset over the glitter massacre in the dressing room. It looked like a crime scene, except it was the murder of a literal unicorn. You made a mental note to send an apology sandwich of some sorts next week.

It was the familiarity in the whiff of cologne that made you snap your eyes wide open, looking over your shoulder to meet with the sight of Bruce, ambling down the aisle towards you. He smiles, and you mirror him, shifting in your seat and nearly toppling the box to the ground. “What are you still doing here?” He smiles, and you mirror him, shifting in your seat and nearly toppling the box to the ground. “I could ask you the same question.” He settles in the seat next to you, elbow brushing against yours. Your head tilts, gesturing to the box. Bruce merely hums and nods thoughtfully.

“So, how was the play? Does it get a Wayne seal of approval?” There’s a hint of teasing in the curve of your lips as his eyes drift to the stage. “I liked it. The kids have talent.” Your eyes glint with amusement, your smile growing wider. “I never knew you were a fan of romance.” His laugh comes out more like a huff of air, crinkled eyes meeting yours, and nudges you lightly. “Well, now you know.”

He recognizes the way your smile doesn’t quite reach your eyes and the way you’re fussing with the edges of the box on your lap. Something is bothering you and he knows it. He nudges you once more. “Penny for your thoughts?”

You blink once. Then twice, face wincing instinctively. You keep forgetting how well Bruce can read people, especially you. You exhale slowly as he watches you struggle to pick the right words.

“It’s really nothing. It’s just-” you say after a long minute, cutting yourself short. Then, you turn to Bruce. “I’m growing older, and I’ve spent my entire life in a fog with so much fear for reality, I’m afraid it’s too late to fix all my mistakes and regrets.” Your voice dwindles with every word that escaped your lips. You were young, naïve with the notion that time was extensive to make decisions without thinking it through. To know that you could never take back the things you did. Saturn’s rising, it’s a wake-up call now that you’re older and the fear that you would never change creeps onto you with every passing birthday.

Bruce defines the epitome of the sinking feeling in your chest whenever you lay in bed at night and let your mind reel about your existence. Yet, it isn’t as simple as you want it to be. The boy you met at university has grown into a far more complex and entangled mess of the grief of his parents, the responsibility he held over this city and the drive to just...keep moving on. For the longest time, it was him against the world, and a part of you wants to believe that it doesn’t have to be that way. That maybe, you could be enough for him.

He glanced away from you, trying to hide the despondency in his eyes. He holds back a sigh as he speaks, “Do you regret us doing this?” As vague as his question is, you know what he exactly means. He remembers the time the two of you used to exchange senseless conversations and laughter so vividly that it scares him. Juvenile friends, lacking the knowledge to know what love really was. Hence, the agreement—it was just two friends, messing around. Nothing could go wrong. Now, the hole has been dug in too deep, with no way of getting out.

“I don’t,” you reply and with just two simple words, his chest feels like fire. It was the way you had said it, with so much confidence and assurance, despite the intricacy of this relationship. For the first time in a long time, you were extremely sure about an answer. You could never regret Bruce. Never.

It’s almost hesitant in the way his hand finds yours, but it represents his care for you, even if you may not know it. The warmth of his hand feels like fire. Hell, your chest feels like it’s on fire, heart burning for the man beside you. “I’ll drive you home,” he whispers with a squeeze of your hand. You flash him a grateful smile as the two of you drift into a comfortable silence. Silence so eloquent that you don’t feel so empty anymore. No longer a solitary figure trapped in a painting but now two, hand in hand, against the world.

TAGLIST

@raineeace

#bruce wayne x reader #bruce wayne #batman #batman x reader #justice league #batman imagine #bruce wayne imagine #pining bagels repeat

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minachuuu · 3 years

Text

The Voice That Keeps Following Me

❣The Voice That Keeps Following Me❣

The sequel for Voices I Can’t Run Away From is finally here. I chose to make it a sequel and not a 2-part story, because I wrote the first one thinking of it as a stand-alone story, but I was requested a second part and I really like how it turned out! Hope you enjoy it too!

❤ AU: DreamCatcher (Fem!) 8th Member

❤ Genre: Angst

❤ Word Count: 6.8k

❤ Song Suggestions: Scream by DreamCatcher and Fight Inside by Red

⚠ TW : Harassment, blood and guns.

Day 134

Look at my family.

My mind sometimes likes to play and pretends to be a camera, it goes through life slowing moments down around me, allowing me to bask in the emotions that they gift me. And then it stores them, there in my fondest memories. I have a lot of them to choose from when my thoughts get dark, the light they emanate is enough to shut the whispers in my mind.

The warm embrace of my members is one that comes very often, but it was that night around four months ago that I first felt like someone really loved me. But do they really? And I try not to look back from that. Or do I?

The sun was high in the sky, a warm and welcoming spotlight that followed us through your late winter promotions, the chilly winds still rattled the thin hair in your forearms, but there was no more snow falling from the sky. The windows in the van didn’t fog like before and you could watch little flowers sprout all over the city as spring felt closer and closer.

Your favorite song was blasting through your right earpod, while the other ear enjoyed the background noise of Yoohyeon and Bora bickering in the seats in front of you. Yubin sat by your side, ignoring all reality happening before her while playing a game on her phone.

A light chuckle escaped your lips when you caught a glimpse of SuA tossing what could have been a sock to Yoohyeon, hitting her straight in the face. The latter just turned around, dumbfounded as Bora’s sudden laugh even managed to make Yubin raise her view to her. She then turned her head towards you, her eyes asking for an explanation. You didn’t play attention to the reason why, so you could only offer her back an affiliative smile and a shrug. It seemed to be enough for her, since these two always going at each other every single day was a good source of entertainment.

Your eyes travelled outside, discovering that you were already at your destiny. The fansign venue was already surrounded by a long line of eager fans waiting for you, and as soon one spotted the van, they all turned around to wave at you. Except for one guy that stood out for you from the others for not matching the excitement around him. All dressed in black, the hoodie covering up half of his face.

They’re still here, and they won’t go until you go down with them.

A sudden chill went down your spine, just as every time that you had to encounter an audience face to face, but shaking your head, you were quick to shut it down as the rest of the fans excited smiles and screams muffled behind the window drew a smile on your face, one that you didn’t get that often.

The car stopped it’s movement just behind the venue and the door opened, letting all unfiltered light into your eyes. Yoohyeon and Bora got out of the van and then the manager helped you and Yubin out too. As soon as your feet touched the ground, you felt an arm intertwined with yours, pulling you closer.

“Y/n!” Bora’s voice boomed as you identified her by your side. “If… Let’s say, you hypothetically had a favorite Unnie, who would that be?”

You stared at her trying to analyse what the best answer to that question could be, you loved all your members equally, but something in her voice told you that the question had a tricky part that she wasn’t telling you about.

Your suspicions were confirmed when you raised your view, Yoohyeon shaking her head at the scene before her.

“It’s probably Handong-unnie.” You answered nonchalantly.

“Y/n-yah!” Bora let go and slapped your arm playfully, pouting her lips. “You were supposed to say me! Alright then. Yubin!-”

“Mine’s Minji.” She answered without letting the older even breathe.

“Ah!” Bora whined, cutely hoping in her place. “Why am I no one’s favorite?! That’s not fair!”

“Maybe because you jump in my bed when I’m trying to sleep?” Yoohyeon added.

“Or because you belt in my ear to scare me when I try to read?” Yubin scoffed.

“Or…” You thought of something to add, but Bora hadn’t been anything but loving to you most of the time. Yes, her way of showing love was sometimes super clingy and loud but, you loved her that way, so you couldn’t really come with a better excuse. “Or maybe because you’re just not Dongie-Unnie.”

She deadpanned towards you, crossing her arms over her chest.

“At this rate I’ll never win the bet against Minji,” She sighed. She turned around, just when the other van was pulling up behind yours. Her eyes lit up, as she ran towards it. “Gahyeon-ah!!”

The three of you laughed out loud, shaking your heads at the occurrences of your older member. You walked towards the entrance of the building together, your laugh still dying down when you heard Gahyeon mumble in the distance followed by Bora’s loud whine.

“I hope Minji gives us our part of whatever she bet against her,” Yoohyeon chuckled, holding the door open as you entered the building.

We walked towards a large room with some couches and chairs, a table full of snacks and a wall entirely made of mirrors. Even decorated with some of your comeback posters on the other walls.

You walked towards the table, scanning carefully the snack offerings over it. Amongst some chocolate bars, caramels and beverages, you grabbed a bag of chips to snack as you waited to go outside.

“Good news everyone!” Minji entered the room with her arms wide open, a huge grin on her face. “Today’s dinner is on Bora!”

The seven of you cheered loudly as the latter just pouted, her arms still crossed and her eyebrows furrowed and plunged into a couch near you. You decided to come approach her, taking the seat besides her. You snacked on your bag of chips silently when you decided to turn to Bora and offer her some, she accepted them as she grumbled under her breath. The sight made you chuckle, seeing the most enthusiast member of your group all moody over a bet, but as the seconds passed, you started missing her energetic spirit.

“Unnie…” You leaned over to her, sweetening your voice. “If you buy tteokbokki, I promise you’ll become my favorite.”

She snapped her head towards you,her eyes squinting with suspicion and temptation to your offer. You smiled at her in the most innocent way that you could, bringing out your puppy eyes which you knew she couldn’t resist.

“Ah fine,” She cupped your cheeks with her hands, pinching your cheeks. The sudden gesture that prompted you to drop your mask, trying hard to get off her grip. “Just because you are my favorite maknae, even if you broke my heart in a million pieces. Just don’t tell the others.”

“I won’t, I promise.” Your voice muffled by the pressure that her hands were applying to your cheeks. You raised your hand, painting at her hands over your face “Can you… let go?”

“Never.” She released your face, but you didn’t get to savor freedom for long since she wrapped her body around yours, cuddling into you.

A sudden blush invaded your cheeks, softening your pride. You let yourself cuddle into Bora, while a smile kept growing in your face.

And then, time slowed down as you let your eyes wander through the space. Minji and Siyeon are laughing in the corner, the white walls reflecting in the sparks in their eyes. Gahyeon and Yoohyeon bickering around Handong, but the oldest of them just smirked at the probably childish discussion they had going on. Yubin was silently existing by my side on the couch, reading what seemed like her hundredth book in the month. You still didn’t know how she managed to do it with all the activities of the comeback. And then there was Bora, cuddled in her arms, making you feel like you were protected from everything in the world.

You sighed, savoring the emotions in the moment, your heart warming up at the sight of the best family that the world was able to give you ever.

But, are you really sure that you deserve all of this? After all you made them go through?

Thankfully, the voice in your mind was broken when a manager opened the door, calling everyone out to the stage to start the fansign.

You stood up from the couch, as you felt your body shaking nervously. This being your first fansign since the last comeback, and the “incident”. That’s how you and the members preferred calling it without inviting back unwanted feelings and memories.

They were quick to notice your nerves and approach to surround you in that familiar and safety blanket that they were all so used to being part of. Shanking your head, you released a shaky breath out of your lips and nodded, the girls taking the sign to move forward.

You could hear the deafening cheers of Insomnias from the other side of the hallway, as your heart ramped up it’s speed. Unsure if that was nerves or excitement, you wrapped the first hand that you could, that being Siyeon’s.

“Hey,” She turned around, offering you a conforming smile. “We’ve got your back, you’ll be okay Y/n.”

You nodded, leaning into her shoulder as you kept walking towards the main stage where your fans were already waiting for you. The door to the stage opened, making the shouts from Insomnia even louder. Your table with eight chairs and a bottle of water was already waiting for you too. The staff handed you each one microphone as you crossed the door.

The bright lights of the auditorium blinded you as you made your way into the stage, cheers cramming your ears. It took a few seconds for your senses to get used to all the sudden stimulation, but once they did, you were greeted with your fans waving and smiling at you.

You smiled back at them, offering them finger hearts and flying kisses. The clics from the fansites cameras refuse to cease, as you greeted your few acquaintances that sat between the audience. But as your eyes scanned around, you landed on that same man that you spot outside. With his hoodie still over his face, he wasn’t jumping up and down or smiling like the rest of the people around him. All you could see was a faint smirk in the shadow, as he slowly clapped to match the rest of the people.

“Let’s introduce ourselves!” You heard Minji clap to get the attention of the group, and you quickly stood in a straight line facing your audience. “One, two-”

“Dream of me! Hello, we are Dreamcatcher!” All of you chorused together, pumping up your fans even more. Each one of them introduced themselves, one after the other. Gahyeon was last, and everyone remained silent.

“Hello! It’s Y/n!” You cheered through your microphone. The audience exploded louder than before. Even hearing some ‘We’ve missed you!’ and other ‘Insomnia loves you!’. You turned to your members, to find them all grinning widely at you, which made you blush intensely.

But then again, your eyes had to land on that one unenergetic guy in the audience, still with the same grin and slowly clapping in his seat.

Maybe they didn’t really miss you, maybe the group was better when you were gone.

You shook your head, trying to get the thought out of your head. But it kept nagging in there. Trying to talk, your lips parted as words got up your throat but never past your lips. You didn’t realize how shaky your hand was until you felt Yoohyeon’s trying to get a grip of it.

Closing your eyes and letting her hand embrace yours, you took a deep breath, and finally the last thought got foggy enough to let you talk.

“It’s good to see you all again!” You stammered through the microphone, earning the cheers of the room, even your members.

After some light chat between everyone sat at their places as the staff helped Insomias line up, they eagerly smiled, excited as they waited for their turn to go up and talk to all of you. Minji, who sat by your side, placed her hand over yours and only her glance and smile was enough to make you feel safe.

Each one of the fans that talked to you beamed with light and joy, filling your table with so many gifts and letters that you wished you could give them back something more than just your signature.

A cute, young little girl came hopping to your place holding her album in hand, carrying a very particular gift with her. A bag of chips that you hadn’t eaten since… since the day you returned home after the incident. After saying hello and quickly signing the album, she rushed into conversation with you, something you didn’t mind cause you were extremely curious about her gift.

“My grandpa remembered that you liked this type of chips,” The girl extended the gift to you, taking them with delivered surprise as your eyes scanned them. “He wanted me to tell you that he hopes you’re doing good and that he’s proud of you!”

“Wait, how did he know it was me?” You chuckled, apparently being grubby, behind a bucket hat, a baggy sweatshirt and lowering your voice was not enough to hide yourself.

“He says it was intuition. Or maybe just your voice.” The girl giggled nervously. “But when he came home that night, he told me that everything was going to be okay, that you were alright. I trust him.”

“He did help me a lot that day, your grandpa is a great man.” Your talking minute was running out, so you reached across the table and put your hands on her, offering her a warm smile. “Always be kind to everyone, who knows where I would be right now if it wasn’t for the kindness of your grandpa.”

“I will always be Unnie!” The girl squealed in happiness as she moved to the next seat to talk with Minji.

“Say hi to him!” You added last minute and she nodded before turning to take care of the fan now in front of you.

More and more gifts started milling up around you, even flower bouquets adorned your surroundings and the rest of DreamCatcher, the managers walking around and taking some of them away from you to store backstage so the entire table wouldn’t end up engulfed in gifts.

You were so into the fansign, talking to all your lovely Insomnias, that you didn’t notice beforehand about the one thing that unnerved you. Turning around to face the fan in front of you, there he stood, the ominous hooded guy.

You tried greeting him with the same enthusiasm as the rest of your fans, but you were taken aback when instead of the usual cheery and giggle response, he just muttered a nonchalant ‘hi’ back at you.

You took his album, searching for the note with your name on it to know exactly where to sign. Finding it, you flicked to that page, but a cold chill traveled down your spine when you opened it.

Your pictures were scratched, painted and splattered over in a dark, thick, red tint. And over it, scribed in big black letters over everything, it read:

‘DreamCatcher will always be 7’

Told you

“Wha-?”

You heard a clock that snapped your head up. Facing a gun pointed straight at you.

They’re going down and taking you down with them. One last time.

And then time stopped. A cold drop of sweat travelled down your spine, as a knot tightened in your throat. Your eyes wandered around, a hundred smiles completely oblivious to the sight right in front of you. All that was left was to close your eyes, hoping everything to be quick and painless.

“Y/N!”

You heard your name be screamed just before a loud bang, returning you to this existential plane. But when your eyes shot open, you found yourself hitting the floor with your shoulder.

A cacophony of screams and people in plain panic ensued, the hooded man was tackled into the ground, and people ran left and right unsure on where to run away.

You tried getting up to get a better view of everything happening on the other side of the table, but a sharp burning bolt of pain travelling your body all the way from your shoulder pinned you down in your place. You turned to it, your entire sleeve covered in a red, thick and warm liquid. Your arm limped, only hanging from your increased numbing shoulder. The tingle in the tip of your fingers increased and travelled through your palm as you stared in horror, as the puddle of blood extended through all your outfit.

“We need an ambulance!” You heard one of your managers shout from one side of the venue, as the noise in the auditorium got more and more muffled to your ears.

“Y/N!” Minji’s shadow covered the light above you as she approached, her heavy breathing and shaky voice calling your name over and over under her breath as she kneeled by your side. “Gosh, no, no”

“What’s going on?” You cried, barely any noise coming out of your mouth. Using your remaining strength, you reached with your hand towards your members, who urgently surrounded you. Along with other managers who moved fast around you, discussing stuff that you weren't able to hear anymore.

“We need to stop the bleeding, NOW!” Yubin commanded, looking around the place for something to surround your injury tightly around, Siyeon and Handong following closely behind her.

“Please don’t leave me,” As your eyes flooded with tears, you somehow managed to crawl into Minji’s lap, “Please.”

“Never, Y/n-” Her eyes full of tears as well, hold you close, not minding getting stained by the red liquid that surrounded you by now.

Painfully, you turned your head to watch around. Gahyeon and Bora were bawling their eyes out between each other's eyes, Yoohyeon kneeling beside Minji in an effort of calming down both of them.

“Here!” Handong came back with a large piece of cloth, quickly kneeling besides you and fasting it up tightly around your arm and shoulder with the help of Siyeon and Yubin. Minji was refusing to drop her hold on you.

“Unnie, I’m so sorry” Your throat stinged at the words, dried up of the tears that came non stop through your eyes. “I’m so sorry about everything.”

Your vision started fogging up, as you barely heard a siren outside, followed by the main door being pushed open, and voices of various people approaching. Fighting to keep your eyes, you wrapped one of your member's clothes with the remaining strength left in your body.

“Stay with us, please.” Siyeon’s voice was distant, but your eyes caught her lips moving as the words entered your brain. “Stay.”

But you couldn’t stop fighting against the weight of your eyelids. The noise surrounding you shut up completely, and the shadows that surrounded you were swallowed by complete darkness.

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

Day 135

I know they’re here. I can hear them sometimes, but they can’t hear me. How much time do you think they’ll keep up with you? Please don’t leave me. Please.

Bora’s fingers traveled up and down your static hand with a gentleness that could put anyone to sleep. But this time it was the other way around. Surrounded by tubes full of unknown liquid flowing into your body, metal structures that seemed to keep the room’s gray walls from falling apart and the rattling but thankfully constant beeping of your heart monitor, everything she wished was for you to wake up.

Handong lay asleep across the couch on the other side of the bed, with only a weighted blanket covering her body from the chilly air circling the room, her head resting on the also asleep Yoohyeon who covered herself with around three thick jackets. The three of them volunteered to take the night watch in the hospital, replacing Minji and Yubin who refused to leave the hospital as you were received in the emergency room and stood by your side for the entirety of the first day. The managers insisted all of them to stay back at their dorm, but were quickly cut off by every girl, standing their ground on never letting you go again.

The first rays of sun peeked through the shades over the window, bringing a dim but warm light into the room with them. Bora’s tired eyes raised to watch the faint silhouette of the sunset through them. A knock on the door made her snap her head towards it, waking up the other two girls in the process.

“Come in?” Handong groggily whispered while standing up straight on the couch, rubbing her eyes.

The heavy door opened, revealing the other four members' tired faces behind it.

“How was your night?” Minji entered the room, hands deep in her pockets as she approached the feet of the bed, staring up and down at your weakened body laying before her. “Did you get some rest?”

The three girls already in the room shook their heads in unison, with Yoohyeon even burying her face between her hands.

“I never thought that a place so silent could be so…” She whispered, her eyes wandering all over the room, unfocused. “Restless.”

“There wasn’t much sleep at the dorm either.” Gahyeon added, sitting besides Bora as she carefully took a strand of hair away from your seemingly sleeping face.

“We brought you some coffee…” Siyeon handed their drinks to Yoohyeon, Handong and Bora before sitting in a chair on the other corner of the room. “I hope it at least helps you stay awake”

“Any news?” Yubin closed the door behind her, laying against the wall. Crossing her arms as she scanned the room with her eyes.

“Well,” Bora stretched her arms, standing up from her chair as she kept stretching her entire body in the process. “The doctor said that everything is stable, all vital organs are okay and that Y/n will only need some rehabilitation in her arm and shoulder. So, she’ll be fine.”

Everyone let out a deep sigh of relief, as Gahyeon leaned down to leave a kiss on your temple, a fair smile crossing her lips.

“I’m sorry we couldn’t protect you enough.” Gahyeon whispered to you as she rested her head over her hands on the edge of the bed.

“But it shouldn’t be our responsibility to have to go around being careful and trying not to get killed,” Yubin scoffed as she paraded around the room. “That’s just sick.”

“I’m glad they caught that bastard.” Siyeon snapped. “And I hope he rots in the deepest rings of hell that disgusting son of a-”

“Siyeon, the kids!” Minji covered Gahyeon’s ears as she covered yours. Her expression softened for a second, twisting her lips in agreement. “But you do raise a very valid point.”

Minji let Gahyeon’s ears go slowly and cautiously, in case any of the older girls decided lo let their dirty tongue roam free again.

“But what I still don’t understand,” Yoohyeon rested her head over her knuckles, as she leaned forward over the edge of the couch. “How can there be people who still don’t want her in the group?”

“We will never make everyone happy,” Handong responded. “I wouldn’t be surprised if there was someone out there who still thinks you should have stayed with the Minx concept.”

The audible groans of Yoohyeon, Minji, Bora, Siyeon and Yubin filled the entire room, facepalms, shrinked shoulders, rolled eyes, their mouths hissing and lips twisting in a physically painful display of a cringy memory flooding their minds. The image encouraged a chuckle out of Gahyeon and Handong, who enjoyed teasing the others with their past.

“While I understood your point perfectly,” Yubin's unimpressed muffled voice stuttered. “there was absolutely no need to take it that far, thank you.”

“But she’s right,” Siyeon pointed out. “There’s people who don’t agree with us, but we now know there’s more people that actually like Y/n a lot! And, if she still wants to be in the group with us after all this, whoever doesn’t agree can walk through the door and never come back.”

“If she wants to be in the group?” Gahyeon glanced back at Siyeon, perplexed.

“Y/n’s been through a lot already,” Bora added. “Even though we love her, we wouldn’t force her to stay if she doesn’t want to.”

“And if she wants to go back home,” Siyeon continued. “We’ll respect her decision too.”

The atmosphere around the room got tense. Everyone understood and agreed perfectly, but it didn’t mean that they wouldn’t miss you if you decided to leave the group.

“Do you know when her family will come? The manager told us they were trying to contact them.” Yoohyeon asked the other girls, trying to break the awkward silence. “Maybe we’ll finally get to meet them”

“They won’t be coming.” Minji shook her head, resting her hands on the footboard of the bed.

“Are they foreigners or something?” Handong leaned her head, curious at the leader’s response. “We could help them fly here if they want to-”

“No, yesterday the managers finally told me the reason Y/n never really talks about her family, and I think it’s time all of you know.” She sighed, raising her head and placing herself somewhere where everyone could see and hear her clearly. She took a deep breath, closing her eyes to focus. “Y/n doesn’t really know her family.”

“What do you mean she doesn’t know her family?” Siyeon eyebrows furrowed, trying to understand the oldest’s words.

“According to what I was told yesterday, she knows she had a family. But ever since she was a little child she had been jumping from foster home to foster home, until she became a trainee later.” Minji nodded, her lips forming a straight line as she got immersed in her own thoughts. Shaking them aside when she felt the pressure of the silence and the looks of the girls over her, she continued talking. “The staff was the one taking care of her after that and up until she debuted with us.”

“So, it’s almost as she doesn’t have a family.” Gahyeon trembled.

The stillness in the air became even more heavy over everyone’s shoulders now that it dawned on them the reality of the situation.

The sun now fully out of the horizon peaked through the window, illuminating the room with its warmth and hopeful brightness. Almost like a sign from the universe, a ray of light rested amicable over your peaceful, sleeping face.

Bora placed her hand over yours, caressing it gently with her thumb. After a few minutes of slumberous and wary silence, like a spotlight calling to her to raise her eyes, she scanned around the room, a delicate smile making its way to her lips as she came to a realization.

“Y/n does have a family.” Bora whispered, making all the girls raise their faces in confusion. One by one, as they locked their eyes with the other girls understood exactly what Bora was talking about, bringing kind grins into their faces.

As some happy tears started escaping some of the girls eyes, it dawned on them all your adventures together. All the hard and the pretty times, how everyone loved each other and accepted their highs and their lows. How every single one of them understood perfectly that blood is not what makes a family, but the unconditional love and support that all parts have for each other. Whatever you had going on in between, that was a family.

“She has us.” Yoohyeon nodded, posing her sight on your resting body.

Swallowed sobs reigned the air until a soft hum stood out. Like a ritual that you all had together now, Yubin’s gentle singing filled the air, the other girls recognizing the song immediately. Your song. One by one the other girls joined her, harmoniously swelling their surroundings with a much needed drop of hope for their soul. As the song continued, each one of them cuddled towards each other, seeking the warmth and comfort of their arms. A silent promise to deliver this and so much more to you for the rest of your lives.

The song was arriving to their end, as silence once again reigned the room when a sigh from the leader broke through.

“We’ll be here for Y/n, all the time she wants us to be by her side.” Minji flicked away a tear from her eye, nodding at her beautiful family around her.

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

Day 136

I’m still here, and I’m not going anywhere. As long as you live I’ll always be right behind you. I have so much left to give, just let me prove it.

A black canvas, covered in bright, sparkling freckles swallowed the sky, the horizon and the floor beneath you. The plain sound of your shaky breath echoed into eternity in every direction as you watched your feet walking on air. One step, two steps. Covered in a fair white robe, you felt the breeze dancing around you, but your skin didn’t perceive any cold from it, instead being embraced in a warm coating, from head to toe. Three steps, four steps. The stars around you didn’t seem to come closer or any farther as you kept advancing, but they all seemed to beat together at a constant beeping rhythm. Five steps.

A pair of bare feet met yours in a perfect reflection, and as you slowly raised your eyes. Whoever was standing right in front of you was wearing the exact same white robe as you, moved their hands the same way, breathed the same way… looked the same.

Standing right in front of a perfect reflection of yourself, you raised your hand towards your shoulder, pulling down the gown from it. Your reflection followed precisely, revealing your clean and well skin under. A relieved breath escaped your lips a little too soon, as quickly, a dark spot surged under your reflection's hand, spreading all over it’s arm, hand and chest.

You leaped behind startled but your reflection didn’t follow through, instead, it started stomping towards you, as the darkness climbed all the way to it’s face. Your hand frantically searched for your shoulder, but there was nothing over yours.

“Who are you!?” You pleaded, running backwards to keep your distance with the impostor.

“Don’t you recognize me Y/n?” Your reflection's voice gritted through the air as a crooked smile was painted in it’s lips. “It’s me, the real you.”

“No, no you are not.” You gasped back, with a hit of doubt that didn’t go unnoticed by the entity in front of you.

“You see? Not even you know who you are.” The reflection reached it’s completely darkened hand towards you, inviting you closer. “Then what makes you think I can’t be you?”

“I-” You stuttered, the never ending starry void where you kept running away also allowed this creature to stay mere inches away from you, no matter how much you seemed to pull yourself far away from it. “Please go away.”

“You know I never will,” It tilted it’s head, sneering back. “Everyone around you has never loved you enough to stay, but I’ll be the only one faithfull by your side forever.”

It didn’t have to hit so low, but there was this little spark burning inside you that kept you up on your feet to keep running, to keep fighting. Through the sting in your eyes, you watched the stars start beeping at a faster rate, ready to try one more time.

“They haven’t left me yet,” You fired back. Your reflection glitched it’s presence before letting out an evil chuckle that echoed through the void.

“But you already know they will!” It scoffed, halting its steps. “Then why wait for it to hurt even more?”

“Because they waited for me.”

All signs of fun were erased from your reflection's face, letting you breath out for a second. But a disgusted smirk plastered across its face as it turned itself into someone else. The wide and gentle smile, her arms that always welcomed you in and her brown eyes that always made you feel safe.

“Minji Unnie?...” You gasped.

“And once again, you come in and ruin absolutely everything for us.” The voice was on point, making you trip over your feet and fall down in surprise. “It would have been best if you d-”

“I heard her! She said my name!” Minji’s voice bounced around, but not coming from the bizarre Minji standing in front of you. “Shhh, it’s okay, you’re okay.”

The creature before you took your form again, it’s breath angrily rising. It quickly shapeshifted to another form.

“We don’t want you back!” It panted now as Bora, shouting to make its voice be heard over the accelerating heartbeat. “We don’t-”

“It’s okay, it’s all a dream!” Now it was Bora’s voice responding from beyond what your eyes could see. You saw your hand light up, warming up as if another hand graced on top of yours. “Everything’s gonna be okay. We’re here.”

The stars around you finally started getting closer, to both of you. The light engulfing both you and your reflection. It felt warm and gentle on your skin, but you couldn’t say the same thing for the other you in that place.

Loud screeches of pain as it battled against the bright light touching it’s skin, shrinking against itself in its own place. You felt your feet floating, like a certain force pulling you up from the starry sky. You felt a cold hand grab you from the hem of your gown, as it’s colorless eyes searched painfully for yours.

“YOU’LL NEVER GET RID OF ME!” Your bizarre reflection snapped back at you in desperation, almost like a cry for help.

“Maybe,” You looked back at it, and just for a second, it’s eyes mirrored your human color instead of being a black, empty void. “But I’ll never stop trying.”

The bright light of the room filled your view, as your eyes snapped open. Trying urgently to adjust to the new light, your eyes blinked and scanned from side to side, as the blurriness slowly dissipated. A flash of pain escurried from your shoulder all the way up your chest, arm and head, as you looked down to a freshly closed wound, a gauze tenderly placed above your stitches.

You looked at the shadows hovering above you, dazzled by the ceiling’s light once again when you turned your eyes up to one side. Two unknown faces, dressed up with scrubs were hurriedly taking your vitals, alternating the view between the monitors and you. Moving your eyes upward and to the other side, there they were.

Bora rested her head on the edge, caressing your hand with her thumb, looking it you with the brightest eyes you had ever seen, and hovering just above her, Minji, flicking off a stray tear away from her face and Dami, a glowing smile adorning her face, one that cutely wrinkled her eyes as her eyes refused to leave you.

“You’re finally back.” Minji whispered as her tender grin grew up across her face. “Everything’s gonna be okay.”

Bora tenderly caressed your cheek as her own eyes filled with tears unwilling to drop. With the strength available in your body, you offered back a smile that immediately broke her.

“We couldn’t bear the idea of losing you again,” She cried, clinging to your hand. “We missed you so much.”

“I’m not going anywhere Unnie, that’s a promise.” You mumbled back.

“Precisely young lady, you are not allowed to go anywhere yet. At least until tomorrow” One of the nurses added, making all of us chuckle and lightening up the aura in the room. “Your vitals are running as they should and your recovery seems to be advancing correctly, you’ll be staying just one more day here.”

All the room cheered at the good news, relieved. You raised the bed to sit up and chat with the girls about everything that had been happening throughout the days, how the bastard that shot you was convicted and dealt with, with no mercy. They told you about how all the industry took steps to ensure the safety of the idols thanks to this incident, fundraisers in your name against gun violence and regulations, and they way the world looked at this with their own eyes.

“Here, take a look at this,” Dami handed you her phone, a playful smile as she did. “Would be better to focus on the good.”

“Wow…” You scrolled down an infinite stream of positive and supportive messages from Somnias all over the world. Outpouring love and comfort on every social media, erasing any doubt in your mind on how the people received you. “I didn’t think they would like me that much.”

“We had the same feeling when we debuted as DreamCatcher too.” Minji added, recalling her memory. “But at the end, the ones that really love you are the ones who stick around.”

“And the ones who don’t can shove their opinions up their-”

“Bora!” Minji covered your ears quickly, as she snapped her eyes towards the other girl.

You chuckled at the image, with Dami a few steps behind trying to keep her laugh too. But the moment was interrupted quickly by a knock on the door, followed by a nurse peeking her head inside.

“Sorry for interrupting,” She excused herself, “Your family came to see you!”

“But I don’t have a fam-”

“I’m not shutting you up the way I would like just because you’re still healing,” Siyeon’s voice accompanied her silhouette as she entered the room, a bouquet of flowers in hand. Followed by Handong, Yoohyeon and Gahyeon, each one carrying a present in their hands. “But as your official big sister, I’ll patiently wait until that arm works again to do it so.”

The remark made you giggle as you glanced at the girls and the radiant auras they carried with them. Now surrounded by an endless supply of snacks, courtesy of Yoohyeon and Handong, the sweet smell of fresh flowers by Siyeon and a new fluffy friend to hug by Gahyeon and a lot of laughs, you couldn’t help but let some tears drop from your eyes.

“Why are you crying?” Yoohyeon approached the bed, handing you a tissue.

“This must be how it feels like…” You stuttered. “Having a family.”

“But you have one!” Gahyeon, who was sitting in the bed with you chimed in.

“I never told you before…” You swallowed, avoiding all their glances as you searched for the courage to come clean about your past. “But I have never met my family, so as far as I know, I don’t really have one.”

You looked up, only to be received by their tender smiles. Almost as if they already knew.

“What are we? Painted?” Handong sneered, making everyone laugh instantly. You giggled too, but your wondering eyes gave up that you were still a little confused.

“Family is so much more than blood lineage Y/n,” Minji added, trying to clear your mind. “And I really like the one that we have right here.”

Something clicked in your mind, calling even more tears to your eyes but a huge smile to your face. The girls all surrounded you in a careful but very welcome and warm hug. Submerged in the comfortable silence surrounding all of you, you could listen to some of the girls crying too.

But it didn’t matter anyway, you had everything that you ever wanted now.

“We’ll always be here for you Y/n.” Gahyeon whispered as she took your hand in hers. “We ain’t going nowhere.”

You nodded chuckling, cleaning some of your tears away from your cheeks, but they didn’t stop coming out of your eyes.

“Well, since you're being dismissed tomorrow,” Bora tried to light up the atmosphere a little. “What should we do to celebrate?”

“I suggest an arm wrestling tournament!” Siyeon barged in with a loud chuckle, making everyone turn around to face in disapproval. “It- It was just a joke.”

“But yeah! Putting all dangerous stuff outside,” Handong giggled looking back at you. “What do you want to do tomorrow when we’re finally back home?”

You scanned around at the bright faces surrounding you, each one bringing up that warm sensation on your chest. You had no idea what you did to deserve this much love in your life, but whatever it was, there was no way you would let it slip through your fingers again.

“Wherever you are,” You answered. “I’m already home.”

#tw guns #tw blood #tw harassment #dreamcatcher imagines #dreamcatcher scenarios #girl group scenarios #girlgroup imagines

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skyholders · 3 years

Text

Lucien: Towards Spring Date [Translation]

Translations under the cut!

Credits to @acrispyapple for all the karma CGs used in this post!

[Section Zero]

The lights in The Highest Bioscience Research Centre were switched on for a very long while. It’s already deep into the night, and yet there's still a lot of people working silently. The hands of the mounted clock ticked slowly, already pointing towards '1’.

Lucien wore a white lab coat, his head hung low as he jotted down the details of the results of the experiments conducted a while ago. Without any time to spare for a break, Ming handed him the compared results right after. A few researchers in the same lab coats surrounded Lucien, splitting the work methodically.

Moments after the experiments have begun once again, a few have reached their limits, rubbing their eyes and heading out for strolls lethargically. However, Lucien’s eyes remained fixated on the scientific paraphernalia right in front of him.

Suddenly, a loud beeping sound came from the depths of his coat’s pocket, its screen lighting through the layer of fabric. Lucien reached towards the phone, yet as soon as he did so, an abnormality appeared within the tables of writings. His hand immediately went to press the off button.

Lucien: “Investigate on the source of reaction.”

•

I squeezed within the crowds in the bookstore, silently celebrating the fact that I’ve arrived and waited at the bookstore early.

MC: “..Even if it’s just a small-scale lecture, Lucien’s popularity is still through the roof,”

Ming told me Lucien’s having a lecture today. Though he was originally busy with work, and had no time for speaking in lectures at all, the speaker suddenly became ill and had to be hospitalised, so Lucien was called in to save the day.

I looked around, towards the place everybody was focused towards.

Lucien: “Therefore, even if it’s just a sudden, fleeting thought, or a small emotion, they’re all involved in a neuronal system that is difficult to be quantified.”

Lucien stood in front of the crowds, explaining complex theories and science. The spot where he stood was pleasant, with spring’s sunshine pouring in in big patches, landing on his brows, his face, his hair – it made the tiniest bit of his hair looked rather fuzzy.

Yet my eyes trailed down, I noticed the light blue of his shirt, and on the sleeve was a button, buttoned into the wrong boutonnière – solid proof that this man hasn’t rested in a very long time. I sighed heavy-heartedly.

Lately Lucien’s been fully immersed in a challenging research, and I have not seen him returning home for while. He’s been replying to my messages at late midnights as well. I’ve also heard that the research centre’s been in high pressure lately, as everyone’s confident in the research, believing in the possibility of a breakthrough. Ming told me as well,

Ming: “Everyone’s been treating the professor like a God, as long as we’re under his guidance, we’ve got to be on the right path. We do place all of our trust in him.”

But humans can’t possibly be Gods after all..

Before I could get out of my distracted mind, Lucien’s already ended his talk. He walked towards me, seemingly unsurprised at the idea of me being there.

Lucien: “Looks like next time, I’ll have to let Ming keep the secrets a little better.”

Perhaps assuming that I wasn’t going to reply, he raised his hand, and lightly knocked on my forehead.

MC: “It’s not Ming, also-“

I was thinking of what to say next, when suddenly, I was cut off by someone cutting in from right beside me.

Fan: “Hello Professor Lucien! I’m a big fan! I’m so happy to have the chance to listen to your lectures. Can you recommend a few books related to the topic?”

Lucien smiled as he agreed.

Lucien: “Of course.”

He looked towards me and smiled apologetically.

Lucien: “Can you wait for me?”

MC: “Mm, I’ll be waiting for you by the seats over there.”

[Section One]

While waiting for Lucien, I absentmindedly took a collection of English poems and skimmed around it on the seat. However, after a while my focus had unconsciously shifted from the books, and right towards Lucien.

He stood by a shelf of books, his hand holding a few books as he bent down to look for the other books.

Under the sunlight, a silhouette casted itself right before him. And I could tell that he’s gotten thinner once again.

On the days when he’s not home, I’d send messages to him everyday to remind him to eat and sleep on time. Yet his responses are sent hours after, always with an apology. And the next time, it’ll be the same. There are times where I’m tempted to just snatch him home from the research centre, order him to not think of anything else, and just take a break. Yet a part of my mind thought of how important it must be for him, how he’s got to put all of his efforts into it in order to succeed..

After thinking of it for quite some time, suddenly, it’s as if Lucien’s noticed something. Because he stopped, and tilted his head to look towards me.

Our gazes caught one another’s mid-air, and suddenly, his eyes curved, and the corners of his lips lifted up into a soft simper. It’s like he’s dug a hole within the small of my heart – his smile’s natural and gentle, as if he’s always the professor who’s skilled and clever in everything.

Lucien handed the carefully selected books to the audience, and exchanged a few words with them. I’ve overheard bits of the fan’s overwhelmed and excited voice.

Fan: “Thank you Professor Lucien!”

Fan: “I heard one of your researches have been about decoding one of the scientific community’s biggest challenges. That’s impressive!”

Lucien smiled politely, yet he didn’t say anything.

After greeting the audience goodbye, he walked over, his arm lightly resting on the back of my chair. He bent down slightly to read the book I was holding in my hands, and turned to look at me.

Lucien: “Sorry for the wait. Would you like to get coffee together?”

His eyes held a genuine sense of joy, dark pupils lightly landing themselves onto my shadow.

MC: “Can I suggest something else if we don’t get coffee?”

Lucien furrowed his brows, and sighed lightly.

Lucien: “But I’ll have to rush back to the research centre later..”

He seemed to not be used to rejecting me at all. However, when speaking, his eyes showed a rare sight of reluctance.

Lucien: “Is it alright if we do it next time?”

I let go of the book in my hands, stood up, and held his hand. His large palm immediately wrapped itself around mine, his eyes focused on me.

MC: “It’s not something that will take a lot of time.”

I held his hand as we walked out of the bookstore, and winked towards him lightly.

MC: “How about you send me home?”

And immediately after that, I added,

MC: “It’s a convenient route to the research centre as well.”

MC: “So – is it okay if Professor Lucien walk me home first, and then go to the research centre?”

Lucien glanced at the watch strapped on his wrist, as if in a moment of thought, before looking at me and smiling lightly.

He reached out to pull the doors of the bookstore open, and tilted his head to look at me, with a bit of glee in his eyes.

Lucien: “Mm, it’s definitely a suitable route.”

Lucien: “Let’s go, Ms. Audience whom have not only invited herself, but have also decided to ‘lean’ onto me as well.”

[Section Two]

As we’re about to reach the front entrance, I slowed my pace, pretending to not have noticed that I did so as I chatted with Lucien.

MC: “Oh right, lately you’ve been in the research centre all the time, so I’ve been taking care of the flowers on your balcony. They’ve blossomed these past few days, won’t you like to go and see?”

Lucien looked at me a little surprised, however, upon looking at my excited face, he nodded and smiled softly.

Lucien: “Of course.”

The balcony was bursting with life, with gardenias and irises blooming along with the season, their petals basking in the sunshine’s warmth. Lucien stood on the balcony, his gaze landing on each and every flower, as if his sight was painted with the most brilliant of colours.

The warm spring breezes blew gently past him, and he broke his gaze as he said,

Lucien: “You’ve taken such good care of them. Much better than their owner.”

I bent down as I skillfully used a small pair of scissors to snip away the dry leaves and branches.

MC: “I’ve heard the florescence of irises are short, only blooming in spring.”

MC: “They bloom so greatly, yet the owner isn’t around. If I were a flower on your balcony, I’d be bored to death.”

I said simply, pretending that I was only concerning the health of the flowers on his balcony.

Behind me, Lucien laughed airily.

I turned around to see that Lucien’s mirrored my actions, bending down slightly to check the petals of every flower.

Lucien: “Did they told you so?”

I nodded, acting stern.

MC: “They did.”

I pointed at the pot of flowers in front of me,

MC: “Look, this iris flower was still a bud when I was watering it yesterday. But today, it’s bloomed completely. Maybe it does know that there will be someone admiring them today.”

Lucien’s eyes stayed on the violet flower thoughtfully.

Lucien: “If that is so, I’ve been neglecting them too much.”

He said it as a matter of fact. I was bewildered for a moment, before responding with,

MC: “..If that’s how you think of it, then yes, you’re right.”

Lucien grinned gently, his head tilted as he looked towards me, his gaze gentle and soft.

Lucien: “Ms. MC, won’t you teach me how to tend to their branches?”

He lifted up a pair of scissors as he observed the pot of golden acacia flowers.

Lucien: “It seems unenergetic.”

MC: “You’re right,”

He reached to hold the drooping golden flowers of the acacia plant, his lashes downcast as he turned his focus onto them. I looked at the pot of flowers as well, and said after a while later,

MC: “Normally, it’ll be alright once you water them. But I’ve watered them yesterday, so what’s going on..”

MC: “Wait, I’ll go grab my botany notebook!”

I rushed back into the house, stopping in front of Lucien’s bookcase and taking out a notebook with much familiarity. When I turned however, I’ve knocked myself onto Lucien’s chest.

MC: “What’s wrong?”

Lucien helped me up, his eyes landing onto the notebook on my hands with a glint of amusement.

Lucien: “Seems like you’ve been doing lots of homework while I’m away.”

MC: “That’s because I thought.. I was hoping no matter when you might come home, you’ll still feel a little bit of spring.”

My hands trailed lightly on the cover of the notebook as I added,

MC: “I’ve also taken the opportunity to learn about the little facts to nurturing plants, so I think it’s a win-win situation.”

After hearing what I’ve said, Lucien was stunned momentarily, before he smiled once more.

Lucien: “I’m intrigued to know what you’ve learned.”

MC: “There are lots of them, let me read them out.”

I sat on a cushioned seat, and soon Lucien sat on the floor as well. And, as if he’s truly trying to focus on a lecture, he put his glasses on. The sunlight steps through sheer white curtains, gently and silently colouring themselves onto him.

I’ve seen Lucien in glasses many, many times. However, no matter how many times I’ve seen it, I’ll still subconsciously think that they look good on him.

Lucien laid his head on one of his hand. In that moment, he looked like a student, focusing attentively onto me. Seeing my dazed look, he couldn’t help but chuckled.

Lucien: “What’s wrong?”

MC: “..Nothing.”

I kept my gaze away from him, and flipped open the notebook, a little surprised.

MC: “I didn’t realise I’ve noted down so many things..”

I couldn’t help but feel a bit of pride growing within me as I cleared my throat, and began my little introduction of botany and the nurturing of flowers for Lucien.

MC: “Let’s start with the different ways to water different types of plants. Herbaceous plants needed to be watered plentifully, while it’s not as necessary for xylophytic ones. For example, you can soak the money leaves in water, but you can’t do it for the gardenia flowers.”

I lifted my gaze to look at Lucien, as he nodded in agreement.

Lucien: “I see.”

I flipped to the next page, and read,

MC: “You’ll have to be wary of pests in Spring. Laundry powder, milk and other things can be made into pesticides. Isn’t that interesting?”

As I continued reading, I relaxed myself and laid against the soft cushioned seat. The spring’s rays of sun landed on my face cozily. My ears caught onto Lucien’s soft laughter, and his arm wrapped me into his embrace. I lifted my head, seeing the line of his jaw clearly.

His voice and tones were relaxed, his words gentle and kind.

Lucien: “Have you bore yourself from reading?”

I shook my head, my hand attempting to cover my face from the sunlight’s embrace. My thoughts were slow and hazy, clumsily floating about in the air. Suddenly, I couldn’t help but say:

MC: “I miss you, Lucien.”

Lucien’s light breaths came to an abrupt halt.

The afternoon’s minutes drifted slowly and silently. I covered my eyes, scouring for all the things I’ve been wanting to tell Lucien lately, then, spilling them out.

MC: “I bought a new spring exclusive tea, I’ve been wanting to try it with you. They say QinMing tea is at its best quality, with a mild flavour. I figure you’ll like it.”

MC: “You’ve been stuck in researches, so you must’ve not eaten well..”

MC: “I have especially went to the research centre to give you a lunch box, but I couldn’t even see you.”

MC: “And I don’t know if someone as busy as Professor Lucien actually finished the lunch box too.”

Words kept falling out of my mouth, and Lucien grew quiet. I removed my hand from my face hesitantly, meeting a pair of dark-coloured eyes.

Lucien looked at me soundlessly, his emotions indecipherable.

MC: “I’m not complaining, Lucien..”

He suddenly brought his hands to my temples, and rubbed them gently.

Lucien: “Mm, I know that.”

Lucien: “It’s my fault, I’ve made you worried.”

[Section Three]

The afternoon sun continued basking its tender light indoors, the notebook in his hand held tilted aside. I rolled over towards it, and looked at Lucien. He kept his usual mellow gaze, however, hidden under downcast lashes were his gentle eyes.

Lucien: “I’ve eaten every lunch box, and they were all delicious. We can make the tea together, and I’ll leave my serious review.”

As he was telling me all of that, a light, seemingly helpless chuckle left his lips.

Lucien: “I’ve been too busy lately, I am a little tired.”

Lucien: “I did not want you to know, and yet you’ve discovered it still.”

It’s a rarity for Lucien to say these things with such honesty, and so I kept quiet, listening soundlessly.

Lucien: “I did not know I’d make you this worried.”

Hearing the guilt in his voice, I thought for a little while, before responding,

MC: “Actually, I didn’t think too much about it.”

MC: “It’s just that the flowers have bloomed, and I’d love for you to see it. Spring is here, and I’d like to see spring with you. That’s all.”

To other people, Lucien can be a scientific prodigy, can be a gentle, likable professor, he can be a restless research machine.

But to me, the him who’s been peeled of each layer of a given identity, of every distance, is the real Lucien only I know of. He’s an important person who I’d love to experience things with, slowly, and one by one.

Lucien looked at me silently through his glasses, and I noticed the corners of his lips lifting slightly, can see the space between his brows gradually relaxing.

Lucien: “Perhaps you’re right, MC.”

Lucien: “No one can ever create a rest-less machine.”

Lucien: “You have pulled me from the data and analytics of the laboratory, and allowed me to see this small corner of spring. I’m very happy.”

The iris on the balcony swayed at the mercy of the winds, as if awaiting an arriving message.

I was reminded of a passage I’ve skimmed across in the poetry book.

‘The sunlight clasps the earth,

And the moonbeams kiss the sea—

What is all this sweet work worth

If thou kiss not me?’*

I reached out my arms without a warning, wanting to remove the pair of glasses on the bridge of his nose.

Yet as if a kindred spirit, he laughed lightly, and pulled his glasses away before me. Pleasant breezes brought along with them the fragrance of flowers, and Lucien lowered slightly, the tip of his nose nuzzling against my cheek lovingly.

The whole room was enveloped with a soft floral scent, and Lucien’s breath was long and steady. I could feel as he slowly relaxed his breathing, and raised my hand to reach to his hair as I ran across them lightly.

The fuzzy feeling of strands of hair through the tips of my fingers, soft and smooth.

MC: “Actually, in the beginning, I did missed you a little bit.”

MC: “I wanted to tell you, that spring is here.”

MC: “But maybe humans are too greedy after all, because when I really did meet you, I did not just want a glance of you, or to only talk to you.”

MC: “I want to be with you, to see with our eyes, and to smell with the tips of our noses.”

MC: “And.. stay in the light of spring, together.”

Lucien chuckled, and simply lowering his head and burying it in the nook of my neck.

I asked carefully,

MC: “Then.. will you still go to the research centre?”

Lucien grinned as he glanced towards me, his hand tracing my arm until it reaches my wrist, and held it.

Lucien: “I am not going today.”

Lucien: “I’d not like to miss the florescence that’ll only happen once a year, after all.”

[END]

NOTE:

The poem MC read was "Love's Philosophy" by Percy Bysshe Shelley. If you're interested, read the full poem here.

Hope you've enjoyed, have a nice day, and stay safe!

-Shio

#mlqc lucien #mr love queen's choice #mlqc translation #恋与制作人 #mlqc #evol x love #mlqc xu mo #mlqc cn #mlqc date

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mcdonaldsnumberone · 3 years

Text

the two of spades and the portrait of a bluebird

act 2 scene 2: the land of memory

art credit: @/ruruina!

Paintings were not human—although some were human in depiction—and therefore, they needed nothing more than the occasional attention of a caretaker and their own whimsies to keep themselves functioning and entertained. That much Juno knew: they had no need for the pleasure of things such as food, sleeping, or even that of breathing. They had no body to maintain, no blood in their veins, nothing but the dull thrum of magic and something beyond the understanding of the world keeping their consciousness together.

“A picture for your mother…,” Juno trailed off. “Are you sure about me? I’m sure there are more scenic areas in the school than that of a mere painting in the halls…”

Deuce shook his head, his eyes sparkling enthusiastically like fallen stars. “I mentioned that there were ghosts and moving objects in Night Raven College, and she said she’d like pictures. Ace helped me get a few pictures of the ghosts inside Ramshackle, but I wanted to get some of you, maybe the moving staircases, even the Mirror…”

The boy glanced down at the camera in his hands. “Only if you want to! It’s fine if you’d rather I take a picture of another painting or something. It’s probably tiring for you to always look nice to an audience…”

“No need to worry about matters like that. What a sweet boy you are, Deuce,” the painting tittered in response. “I don’t feel fatigue in the same way you do. And as I’ve said earlier, I’d be honored to pose for a picture for your mother. Is there a certain… expression you’d like?”

“Anything is fine! Thank you so much!” Deuce gasped, a heartfelt smile overtaking his face. He immediately held his camera up, and Juno shook their head good-naturedly at how he pressed his face against it, trying to get the best angle.

The painting took their usual position as they did whenever there wasn’t someone around to divert their attention. Gaze cast demurely upwards, lips parted into a flicker of amusement, a hand suggestively placed over their chest as if in invitation—Juno did their best to produce an air of casualty and formality as most portraits of their time did.

Snap!

Deuce clicked through the buttons of the camera before nodding, evidently satisfied with the result. He flipped the camera over and held it up so that the painting could glance at the screen, blushing slightly at their own image being reflected.

“Perfect! I bet she’ll be happy with a picture like this. Is it to your liking too?” He asked eagerly. His innocent happiness evoked imagery of the warm afternoon sunshine, one that would often lull Juno into a relaxed state while they would watch the hours of the day go by.

“If it’s to your taste, then I trust that it’s good enough,” they replied back simply, nodding in affirmation. “Your mother must be really happy to know how much her son values her, even going to such lengths to sate her curiosity. You should be proud of yourself.”

“Ehhh… I’m not sure it’s fair to compliment me so highly,” Deuce admitted, scratching the back of his neck. “I’m doing my best to be a good son for her, but I still have a lot to do. I made a few bad choices in the past, so I’m hoping I can mend things with her while I go to school here.”

Juno closed their eyes, and a dreamy sigh escaped their lips. “How charming. If your dedication to making her happy runs this deep, I’m sure she’s proud of you already. We all have our own flaws to work on, but you shouldn’t sell yourself short.”

Deuce stayed quiet for a moment, but he eventually gave a determined exhale, looking back down at the camera. “Right! I’ll keep doing my best!”

“That’s the spirit.”

“Ah, it is good to sleep when life is done.... But it is pleasant also to wake up from time to time....”

#twisted wonderland oc #twst oc #deuce spade #my writing #mac’s clown noises #mac’s circus gang #deuce spade the world #i care him a lot dfshjdsfgks he's kinda like a little brother #also deuce spade korean real i can feel it in my bones #yall r gonna rip my deuce korean headcanons from my cold dead hands #the way i talk abt ace and deuce so differently in the tags WWWWWWW #if only i could have this energy for writing w my schoolwork 💀#juno klein

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dreamescapeswriting · 3 years

Text

Unfinished Business ~ Part Six

WORD COUNT: 6K

WARNINGS: Mentions of mafia, strong language, murder, blood

PAIRING: Bang Chan X Reader

DESCRIPTION: Part six of nine of my new Bang Chan series.

You’re taken hostage but one of Seoul’s leading mafia families Bang Chan but he doesn’t take you because he wants to fake a marriage or make you fall for him in 365 days no…He wants to use you for his own personal gain. To take over another family but when you try to escape things take a turn for the worst and you learn Chan isn’t one to be messed with.(Please I suck at describing stuff)

THEMES: TW || Chapter includes mentioned of being touched inappropriately by a stranger, Smut will be included in a later chapter so this is a fic for a mature audience, Chan x Fem!Reader, Self insert

MASTERLIST | PREVIOUS | NEXT

"Wake up sleepyhead," You groaned, shoving whoever was waking you up away from you, hitting them in the face.

"Five more minutes." A rough tug sat you up and you came face to face with Changbin, who was holding a plate in one hand and you in the other.

"Chan isn't here. Eat and then do whatever it is that you do when he isn't here." You looked down at the food on the plate and decided within seconds that you weren't hungry for whatever that was. It didn't look appetising and you didn't trust Changbin as far as you could throw him.

"Where's Jisung? I thought it was his shift this morning." You mumbled taking the plate and leaving it on the bedside table. Changbin didn't care if you ate it or not, he didn't really care for you at all, so he watched you walk around the bedroom trying to figure out what your plan was.

"Are you planning your escape today?" You stared at him and raised your eyebrow, as if he could think you'd run after what Chan did.

"No, I was thinking of cleaning. You guys are pigs." He lunged at you and you smirked at him, you weren't afraid of him or anyone else in this place. They wouldn't kill you because of how Chan acted around you, they held nothing over you which meant you had some kind of leverage.

"I'm going for a shower and then I'm cleaning the house." You rolled your eyes at him and walked into the ensuite bathroom, slamming and locking the door behind you. It's not as though you could escape through the tiny window and it wasn't like you had anywhere to go. Your ankle was doing better though which was great, one less thing to have to worry about when you did inevitably escape from Chan.

The front door had banged open, you looked up from the floor you were cleaning to see who it was that had made such a loud entrance,

"You have a date tonight." You stared at Felix as he spoke to you, as though you had some kind of idea as to what he was talking about.

"To whom are you referring?" He held up two tickets to a charity ball and you stared at them, black tie and ball gown were expected. There was going to be auctions held to donate money to charity. It was a charity ball that donated to the nursing home you used to work at, they held the party once or twice a year for benefactors to make generous donations.

"Chan's going to that?" You questioned. You'd served there a couple of years ago when you wanted to volunteer and the place was beautiful, it was right in Seoul centre in one of the biggest, most expensive hotels ever. Felix nodded his head,

"Like he does every year. Donates a large sum to them every year as well as auction things off. He donates throughout the year though through anonymous donations." You stared at Felix as he told you what Chan did for them, it surprised you you'd only ever heard of the bad things that Chan did for his money, not with it.

"Stealing from the rich to give to the poor? Sounds too much like Robin hood for me." Felix chuckled and shook his head at you, he could see something was going on inside your head. Like a battle with yourself that you weren't going to admit to losing just yet, he was brilliant at reading people and to him, you were an open book.

"I can't go. I have nothing to wear." You went back to cleaning the dishes you'd collected from all over the house and that's when Felix pulled out a wallet.

"That's why I have money, Jisung and Changbin will be following along with us to make sure you don't try anything." You glanced over at your shoulder, Changbin wasn't looking too happy about going with you on the field trip.

"Why not someone else?" You took the washing up gloves off your hands and walked over to the towels. They all knew about your dislike for Changbin since neither of you was trying to hide it, drying your hands and turning back to Felix.

"No one else is free...It'll be fun. I'll help you find something and then I'll get us all a tie to match your dress." Your version of fun seemed different from Felix's. You'd rather stay at home in your bed all day rather than shopping for the perfect dress and shoes.

"Let's go-"

"Don't I have to change first?" You remembered Chan's surprise when you wanted to go out in the jeans you'd been painting in. But Felix was fine with you coming in the leggings and oversized shirt they'd gotten you, it wasn't like he was trying to show you off to everyone.

"Not that's fine. Let's go, we don't want to be late tonight."

The shopping trip hadn't been a total drag like you'd thought it would be, Changbin managed to pretend to be happy to be there. Jisung and Felix were like the brothers you always wanted except way better than you had imagined them to be. It was so nice to be out of the house and joking around with them so much you'd almost forgotten who they were.

"I feel stupid," You said, as you stared yourself in the mirror. Felix was in your bedroom wearing an all-black suit, along with a red tie to match your dress. Chan wanted you all to match so people would know you were all together at the party, that way no one would mess with you. Chan had only gotten back an hour ago and had spent his entire time back locking his office complaining about something to Minho. You'd heard him shouting from inside of the bathroom when you were getting ready but you couldn't understand a word of it, it was all too muffled through the walls to understand anything. He'd been shouting at Minho about how Namjoon was going to be at the party, he never made appearances at things like that which was both good and bad news.

"Chan's downstairs now, the car is here." You sighed and came out of the bathroom nervously playing with your fingers as you waited for them to see you again. The red silk gown was floor length with a split at the front left side coming up to your mid-thigh.

"Whoa." You stared at Felix and shook your head at him, he was the one that had picked the dress out and saw you try it on.

"You saw it before."

"That was before the hair and makeup, you look...whoa." Your makeup had been done by someone in the mall along with your hair. You shook your head at him again and went over to the mirror to look at yourself. It felt like you were playing dress up as a kid all over again, the dress cost more than anything you would ever be able to afford in this lifetime or the next and it had an A-line flow with a backless detail. It was something you never would have worn before, but were wearing now because you had to look your best for the evening.

"Chan's gonna-"

"Chan's gonna what - oh my god," Seungmin gasped as he walked into the room, he'd come to see what was taking so long but he was shocked by how you looked as well.

"Boys," You scoffed, playfully rolling your eyes and heading down the staircase. You could hear Chan ranting about something to the rest of the boys, doubling their security and watching him all night. He didn't care if they were tired or not, they weren't to have their eyes off the ball for even a moment there was too much at risk.

"Are you even listening? This is more important than all the other times we've been to these things. We have someone important to protect now- Are you even listening to me?" Jisung pointed over his shoulder at you, and Chan turned around to see you standing there with a small shy smile on your face. Chan’s jaw dropped as he stared at you, you looked incredible and he couldn't believe you were standing there so awkwardly. Someone that looked like you should have been walking tall and high with their head held high, and he was going to make sure he could help you do that. He was going to make you confident and feel like the beautiful girl you were. All thoughts about what he was talking to his men about were gone as you came closer to him. He took your hand in his and kissed the top of it, placing it back down at your hip and you felt a flutter in your heart as he stared at you. No one had ever looked at you like that before, it was nerve-wracking but at the same time, it made you feel warm inside, safe and that you weren't alone.

"The car," Changbin said, having no time to waste on this stupid moment Chan seemed to be having with you. They were all on edge for the night and were now protecting you and Chan while you were at the event together.

"Is everything okay?" You asked, as you sat in the back of Chan's car together Jeongin was driving with Seungmin by his side. The car in front of you had Felix and Minho inside and the last car behind you carried Hyunjin, Jisung and Changbin, you were being watched from angles. The same thing, matching cars and number plates in case any of you were followed it would be easy enough to confuse them. He was going to make sure nothing happened to you.

"Everything is fine." He lied, looking out of the window. He didn't feel like he could lie while looking you in the eyes. Right now he was having a hard time keeping his hands to himself, because you weren't his to touch he didn't want to make you uncomfortable by putting his hands on you,

"At the party, I'm going to introduce you as my fiancé...go along with it." You nodded and he slipped off a ring from his pinky finger. Turning to look at you as he slid it onto your ring finger, it was the perfect fit.

"Is there a reason we're faking that I'm your fiancé?" Chan nodded and turned to you trying to make it seem like he wasn't lying through his teeth right now.

"Namjoon."

"The man from the store?" Chan nodded again,

"I realise that I'm not in your eyes but what I do I do for the good of people and Namjoon...Let's just say he has his own selfish reasons for what he and his crew do. Killing for fun, killing for the sake of killing-" You felt fear ripple through your body and Chan could see that so he stopped talking about it. Namjoon was well known everywhere, everyone had heard of Namjoon and if they hadn't they were either stupid or didn't live in Seoul.

"So I have a target on my back because he saw us together the other day?" This was Chan's idea in the first place, he shouldn't be feeling guilty about this but he was. The plan was to lure Namjoon out, but since the day you spent alone together he'd been having second thoughts about the entire thing. He figured being seen by Namjoon would bring him out of hiding and have him admit that he killed Chan's wife. The bonus would be having him scare you so much you would be too terrified to leave Chan's side, so now why was he feeling so guilty for doing it? All he wanted to do was make you stay with him forever, he would be the one to protect you.

"I promise to look after you, he won't ever hurt you." You could tell by the way he was holding your hands, squeezing them and staring into your eyes that he was sincere. Which was what scared you. He was closer to believing that you actually liked him, while you were now stuck with staying with him forever or being on the run from two big mafia leaders who would both want you dead.

"Why do you come to these events?" You asked, trying to change the subject to anything else. You could avoid the feeling of being scared if you just put it off long enough.

"I have my reasons," He linked your hands together as he sat in the back of the car. He didn't know how to act around you, you were being so nice to him lately and he didn't want to do anything to change that.

"Do I have to be scared about being out with you?" You questioned, your mind wandering back to Namjoon who was going to be at the event.

"No. I promised I would never let anything happen to you and I meant it." He squeezed your hand. You felt somewhat comforted by it, knowing that he was starting to fall for you hard enough to want to protect you. But then your mind went back to Changbin's threat and your conflicting heart. You could already feel yourself feeling sorry for him, clearly whatever had happened with his wife was affecting him badly. Maybe he was just that good guy that got pushed too far. One half of you was wanting to stay with him, but your brain was still on fire battling the thought about him doing what he did to Mrs Lu and the story your ditzy barmaid had told you. That chan had been the one to kill her, anyone with more than three brain cells could tell he hadn't though, that the story of him killing his wife was complete bullshit.

"Thank you." You whispered, looking out of the window nervously as you thought about the event. It was highly publicised meaning someone was going to get your photograph of you sitting there.

"Did you mean it?" You questioned quickly, he hummed at you and turned to stare at your face wondering what you were talking about.

"Did I mean what?"

"About taking me to see my grandfather?" He could tell by the look on your face that you were excited about the thought of it. But you were doing your best to stay calm about it and so he nodded at you. It could be a reward for you if you were good tonight while you were out with him.

"I'll take you if you behave tonight." You smiled shyly at him and nodded, promising you would be good. You'd promised not to try and get away and you meant it.

"Then let's get to it. Maybe get a nice photo to give to him?" Chan asked you, as he looked at the photographers outside the hotel. You nodded and the door opened, flashing lights started to blind you and you held onto Chan as he helped you out of the car.

"How do you deal with this?" You giggled, looking at him as he walked with you side by side. He linked his arm around your waist and smiled down at you trying to look good for the cameras. He paused at the bottom of the steps, a red carpet had been laid out and people were screaming questions at everyone who was walking there. It was like Chan was some kind of famous celebrity and people wanted to interview him.

"I smile and get on with it, I never liked this side of my life. They glorify the things I do and it's wrong, even if I do this all for the right reasons it makes it look good when it's not." You stared up at him as you walked towards the doors, lost in your own world as if the rest of the world melted away as you stared into his eyes. But he kept his head forward trying to focus on not falling over.

The evening was going admirably. You were in the middle of a huge event hall in the hotel, the walls were all white with marble columns to keep up the extremely high ceilings. The boys and you were all at the second-floor bar that looked down over at the rest of the party,

"Y/n?" You turned, to see a man around 6'0 smiling at you and coming over to you. You were standing at the bar while Chan went to stand beside someone and talk. The man was wearing a black suit with a blue tie on, you'd never seen him before so you had no idea how he knew your name. Jisung was supposed to be watching you but he was on his phone, you didn't blame him though it must have been boring watching someone all night.

"Hello." You greeted coldly, looking to try and get Jisung's attention but it wasn't going to work. Changbin was nowhere to be seen and Hyunjin was in the bathroom. You were starting to panic when the man reached for your hand, lifting it to his lips and kissing it gently, looking at the ring on your finger but he didn't care about it.

"May I have a dance? I'm Clarke."

"No, I don't think my fiancé would like that." You were trying to come up with some excuse to get away from him, but Chan's back was to you as he spoke to someone about a donation he was making to them. You didn't know how to get him to turn around without screaming his name, and causing a scene not something you wanted to do in such a nice place.

"I'm sure he won't mind one dance." He pulled you over towards the staircase that led down to the bottom floor. Your heart began to pound, if the boys looked up to see you missing it would be bad news for you, but if Chan looked and saw you with another man it would be bad news for him.

"My fiancé really wouldn't like this, he's-"

"He's an idiot by letting you stand alone and giving you such a cheap-looking metal ring." His hand landed on your waist. Your eyes locked onto the back of Chan's head, hoping that somehow he would feel the stare and turn around.

"Please let me go." You begged him, but his hand slipped down to your waist while his other grabbed onto your ass squeezing it softly. He trailed his hand to your thigh so you slapped him across the face, the room was so packed no one noticed. So you began rushing over to Jisung, he was the closest one to you and the nicest one out of them all. Your hand gripped onto his bicep as you pleaded for him to help you,

"Help." You whispered, he looked at your panicked face and then saw a man coming over to you holding his face with a red mark across his cheek.

"You slapped him?" You nodded, explaining that he started touching you and you had to get away.

"You little whore, dressing like this and expecting not to be touched?!" You whimpered, as the man began storming towards you. Jisung took control of the situation quickly,

"Chan!" Chan turned around and saw the worried look on your face and then the man. He was livid, he stormed to your sight and took your face in his hands turning it side to side to look at you. The man stopped as he realised it was Chan that you were with and not someone else, he began begging for them not to hurt him but Changbin grabbed onto his arms.

"You okay? Did he hurt you?" You shook your head and Chan turned around to punch the man who'd grabbed you the way he did,

"Changbin, take him back to the house and put him up in the basement I'm not through with him." He ran his hands through his black hair. You noticed curls starting to form as he pulled it from the styling gel, you never knew he had curly hair. It was something you were trying to focus on to keep you calm.

"You sure you're okay? Did he hurt you at all?"

"No, I'm fine. He just grabbed my ass and my-" He went to follow Changbin out of the hotel, wanting to kill him for even thinking about touching you. You grabbed onto his hand,

"Don't leave me please." You urged him and he stared down at your hand on his wrist. He felt his heart begin to pick up and he nodded at you, even if he did feel like it was his fault for leaving you alone when he promised he wouldn't.

"Fine. Let's go and have a drink." You followed him towards the bar and ordered a scotch, he did the same and looked at you. He could tell that the fact that the man touching you was bothering you. You were scared, having someone touch you like that in such a public place, you had no idea what could have happened if he'd gotten you down the stairs.

"You promised to watch me, you promised. What if that was Namjoon that got hold of me?" He shook his head at you. He cupped your cheek in his hands running his thumb over your skin trying to calm you down.

"I took my eyes away for two seconds, it's not my fault you're so beautiful that everyone wants you. I promise he'll get what's coming to him. No one will hurt you or touch you." You realised what he meant by that and you stared at him,

"You're going to kill him..." It was a statement rather than a question, about what he was or wasn't going to do. But he heard your voice crack and he stared at you wanting to search for any signs that you didn't want him to, but all he could see was the sign of you being okay with it.

"Yes." He answered blandly, but he didn't care, no scumbag should get away with touching people that clearly asked him to stop.

"Good. Make him pay for it." He liked this side of you, you had no idea where it was coming from but you wanted the man to pay for what he'd done to you. It always happened in the bar you used to work in, sleazy men would touch whoever they wanted and get away with it and you were sick of it. It was about time that somebody took care of it.

"I'll make sure he does." He promised, kissing your cheek and then looking around for the time,

"We have time for a dance before the auctioning starts." He took your hand, you downed the drink of scotch, following him to the staircase to head down for a dance together.

Both of you lost in your world as Namjoon watched from across the room, he asked his right-hand man for the information they had gathered on you. It was strange how you'd seemingly come from nowhere and were now being announced as Chan's fiancé. They told him about your family history, your grandmother using his money and dying leaving bills unpaid. He smirked watching you being waltzed around by Chan, he had a plan now. Chan's hand was placed on your waist, while his other hand held onto yours, slowly leading you along the floor swaying back and forth with you.

"You look great tonight, by the way, I don't know if I mentioned that." You laughed at Chan and nodded at him, even though you didn't believe what he was saying.

"You didn't have to, the boys did it for you. Apparently, I'm 'whoa'." He chuckled and nodded in agreement with them.

"They're right. You look gorgeous." You could feel your cheeks heating up as he complimented you,

"Dip." He said, you stared up at him as he dipped you down and smiled at you. A camera flash went off capturing the happy moment making you both momentarily blind.

"Look at the happy couple." You both stood up to see Namjoon staring at you,

"Y/n Y/l/n, and Bang Chan...surprising couple." You cleared your throat and Chan wrapped his arm around your waist, he knew Namjoon would have gotten to know everything about you by now.

"Can I see the ring?" You didn't have a chance to decline, Namjoon just took your hand in his and stared down at the small silver band around your finger.

"Huh. Seems simple for someone like Chan to give you." Chan didn't have time to say anything,

"I asked for something simple, inexpensive to prove how much I wanted Chan for Chan and not who he was and his money." Namjoon nodded along and looked at Chan.

"May I dance with her?" Chan stepped aside willingly, not wanting to disobey Namjoon and cause a scene. He watched as Namjoon began to dance with you in the same way Chan had been doing before.

"I know he took you against your will, do you want to get out of here?" You stared up at Namjoon as he stared off behind you, trying not to make it look obvious about what he was talking about.

"He didn't take me against my will, I went with him. I love him." You seemed so convincing you almost believed yourself, Namjoon stared down at you shocked that the words had even left your mouth.

"Love him? My dear, that almost sounded convincing to me. You barely know the man, you've been with him less than a week." He kissed your forehead and brought you into a hug,

"You better watch out my love, as soon as he turns his back, you're mine just like his ex. I'll assume he told you the horror story but be warned, I will kill you just like I did to her...Paint his living room a nice shade of red again." He left you alone and you stood staring at the back of his head, Chan frowned coming over to you.

"What's wrong? Did he hurt you? Say something?" You turned to look up at Chan and he stared down at you, you looked terrified, more terrified than the night he'd killed Mrs Lu.

"H-He said I have to watch out before you turn your back and I end up just like your ex." Chan's hand on your hip tightened and you whimpered moving away from his grasp.

"What does that mean? What happened?" He looked around and shouted Seungmin and Jeongin over. It gave him the confirmation he'd been using you for, but now his blood ran cold at the thought of Namjoon threatening you. It wasn't just Chan using you for information anymore, he liked you a lot and now you were in real danger

"Give them the money, bid on the weekend away, I need to take her home. Namjoon threatened her." His hands were on your arm and he was rushing you out of the hall and towards the exit of the building,

"Smile and look happy, if Namjoon knows he's scared you he wins." You nodded and started smiling up at him, he took your hand in his and sighed.

"Come here," He bent down to pick you up bridal style and you squealed, wrapping your arms around his neck and staring into his eyes.

"What are you doing?" You asked, looking into his eyes and nowhere else as the cameras flashed at you both running to the car.

"You move too slowly in those heels. I have to get you home where I can keep you safe." He sat you in the car and told Felix to drive fast and not stop for anything.

"What happened with your ex...Is he going to get me?" You panicked and he linked your hand in his.

"I'll tell you everything, I promise, but right now you need to get home and get you safe. I'm not going to let you die okay." He kissed your cheek and you laid your head on his shoulder, staring at the back of Felix's head as you drove to the house.

"You'll be fine here, no one can get in here, it's all secure," Chan said as he stood in your door, you were laid in the bed dressed in an oversized shirt and some shorts. You hadn't stopped shaking since the moment you left the hotel and he still hadn't told you what happened with his ex. Just that she was dead and it was Namjoon's fault. You were more scared of Namjoon than you ever had been of Chan,

"Get some sleep, we'll talk in the morning. Seungmin is right outside if you need him." You nodded at him and he turned to leave the room without another word.

"Goodnight." You called out and he nodded at you, saying it back before leaving the room quietly, shutting the door behind him.

You laid there for an hour while you listened to the wind and rain outside, the thunder started and you wanted to cry. Thunderstorms used to make you calm but tonight it seemed to make everything scarier, like in a horror movie. Every sound made you think it was someone trying to break into the mansion, specifically your bedroom. You got out of the bed and snuck out of the door, Seungmin was asleep so you could sneak out of the door without being heard. You tapped on the bedroom door belonging to Chan but there was no response, you were about to turn back when thunder clapped so loudly you jumped. Rushing into the room the door banged, he jumped up and pointed a gun at you thinking you were an intruder,

"Chan!" You held up your hands to make him see that you were free of any weapon, and that you weren't going to hurt him, but you let out a whimper as he kept it tracked on you,

"I'm sorry." You whispered, turning to stare at him. He was wearing a black t-shirt and some shorts, he shook his head and stared at you, panicked that something was wrong.

"I'm sorry! Did you hear something?" He questioned you, he got up from the bed to get closer to you.

"No, no." You whispered, shaking your head and looking around his room, it was the one room you hadn't been in yet.

"Do you want me to put the gun away?" You nodded frantically, slowly lowering your hands down now that he knew who it was in his bedroom this late at night.

"Yes please." He took the gun and put it away in the drawer beside his bed and cleared his throat, rubbing the back of your head as you got closer to him.

"What's wrong?" He sat down on the bed and you walked into the room sitting down beside him.

"I'm scared, he said he'd kill me, Chan." You admitted and he sighed, wrapping his arms around your shoulders and drawing you closer to him,

"What if he gets me?"

"I won't let it happen. I won't let him anywhere near you, you're mine and I'm going to protect you." He repeated, pulling you to lay down on the bed with him. He spooned you and began tracing patterns into your skin as a way of trying to calm you down. You let the 'you're mine' comment pass, it felt nice for him to say that to you right now, it was something you needed to hear.

"I promise." He kissed your shoulder blade and you closed your eyes, feeling safe and protected around him enough to fall asleep for the first time all night.

"Get some sleep. I promise to protect you." He kissed your shoulder again and you hummed, shuffling back towards him wanting him to hold you closer. But you turned around to face him instead, deciding now would be a good time to question him since you weren't tired.

"Aren't you scared of him?" He shook his head and ran his hand over your cheek, tracing his thumb along your skin as he stared into your eyes. He had to be strong to you even if it meant telling you he wasn't scared when he was.

"He holds no power over me, I don't care about him but if he comes anywhere near you-" Your hand on his cheek calmed him down, you could see him growing more and more agitated, but he was shocked that you'd touched him like this. All the other times you seemed to move away but you were willing, getting close to him and touching him willingly.

"Thank you for protecting me, not just with Namjoon but with that guy at the party." He nodded, the guy had been locked in the basement the moment the boys got him home and Chan was planning on dealing with him in the morning.

"Anything for you." You looked at him, your eyes glancing from his to his lips trying to fight back the feeling of wanting to kiss him but it was hard. You close your eyes and leant in and he leant down pressing his lips against yours. As soon as he kissed you the world fell away, it was all slow and soft something you'd never thought would happen to you, it felt like it was something from the books you'd read as a teenager. It was comforting and his hand fell away from your face and to your hip, dragging your body closer to him so there was no space between you any more. You could feel his heart beating against your chest as he brought you closer, pulling away and running his thumb along your bottom lip.

"Do it again," You begged him to kiss you one more time, your mind blank as your heart took over your actions. He pressed his lips against yours, the world falling away in an instant, but this time the kiss was hot and full of passion. His tongue ran along the seam of your lips and you parted them for him wanting nothing more than to make out with him all night. The kiss was sloppy and you could taste the scotch you'd both been drinking that night. You wrapped your arm around his neck and he chuckled, pulling away from you not wanting to take things too far too soon.

"Enough for one night," He placed a gentle kiss on your lips again to satisfy you and you shifted on the bed, laying your head on his chest to fall asleep while listening to his heartbeat. He laid on his back looking at the ceiling while he listened to your breathing trying to make it the focus of his thoughts. As long as you were still breathing he had something to fight for, something to stop him going after Namjoon right away and coming up with some kind of plan. For you it felt safe right next to him, it was strange and didn't make sense in your head but your heart was telling you it felt right to be there with him no matter what he'd done. The kiss had been too good for you to ignore the chemistry between you both. He kissed the top of your head as your eyes got too heavy to keep them open any longer, and you stopped fighting to keep them open, drifting away into the best night's sleep you or Chan had ever had in the longest time.

Tagline: My fantastic and wonderful editor I would be nowhere without! @moonprincessdiviniation @taestannie @kneel-begyourpardon @calling-dips-on-j-hope @hugs4chan @ncitythoughts @inseonqt @cloudsgathering @atletino @mischiefmakerliesmith5 @freckledquokka @happygirl327

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lady-amethyst18 · 3 years

Text

I'll hear you sing

Emma paced back and forth in her room. On her bed laid a black choir dress, a fake pearl necklace, and a compact of blush. She was getting ready for her choir concert this evening. But today was more nerve-wracking than ever. Because she was chosen as the lead singer for the last song of the show. She got lots of praise from her teachers and peers, saying that she had a beautiful voice and was perfect for the solo act. She even practiced the song every day to herself and memorized the lyrics all by heart. But when the day finally came, she felt like she was going to melt into a puddle of goo.

What if she froze out there in front of everyone? What if she messes up and forgets her cue? What if she hits a wrong note? What if the audience doesn't like her singing? What if she completely embarrasses herself out there? She started pacing faster. She held her cheeks in her hands, and her stomach started flip-flopping. "Stop stressing, Emma." She said to herself. "Stop stressing!" She repeated. She looked into the mirror, looking at her nervous face. She shook her head and groaned loudly. "I need to go for a walk." She said as she started heading downstairs and out the door.

She walked through the neighborhood, trying to clear her head of the nerves of singing solo for the first time. She still felt butterflies in her stomach, and she could swear she was starting to sweat. Perfect... She was going to look like a mess by the time she gets to the concert. She wondered if she had enough time to take a shower by the time she got back. She brushed her hair out of the way, closing her eyes while still walking. "I have to pull it together. Maybe I can just tell the teacher that I can't be the lead singer. Or perhaps I can just pretend to lose my voice and they'll get someone else to sing. Or-" She was so lost in thought that she bumped into someone. Her eyes shot open as she finally snapped back to reality. "Oh my! I'm so sorry! I-I wasn't paying attention." She apologized. "It's ok. No harm done, dear." Said the voice.

She looked up to see who she bumped into. She followed the red and white pants up to the white and gold cloak until finally, her eyes reached the top of the person's head. A white top hat with a red strap pulled over his eyes. "Balan?" She called. Balan smiled widely upon seeing the young girl. "Emma!" He exclaimed. "What a pleasant surprise! I didn't expect to be bumping into you out here."

"I should be saying the same thing." She pointed out. "What are you doing out here?"

"I was just checking up on one of the latest visitors. Their hearts are healing just fine." He looked at the girl, who started to avoid eye contact with him. "But what about you? Seems like your heart could use some cheering itself." Emma rubbed the back of her head. "I just wanted to step out for a moment to clear my head. I've got too much on my mind." She said.

Balan focused on the girl's eyes. They had a look of apprehension and the glistening sweat on her brow added to his suspicion. "Emma," He called out softly. "I'm saying this with love, darling. But you look like you're about to have a heart attack. Why don't you come back with me to the theater? Tell me what's bothering you so much." Emma looked around the corners. The theater is nowhere to be seen. "Uh... Where is the theater?" She asked. Balan smirked as he held Emma's shoulder and snapped his fingers. "Right here!" He announced. It was in the same place where Emma initially found the theater. A brightly lit alleyway through the overgrown vegetation. She couldn't help but roll her eyes at Balan's goofiness. "Now then. Ladies first." Balan humbly opened the door and gestured her inside.

He leads her inside to the lounge area. The room was quiet and well decorated with a dusk color pallet that painted the walls. The chairs and couch had plush red velvet seats with golden buttons as decoration. A water pitcher with a few glasses stood on a tray with several tea flavors and what looked to be a bowl of miscellaneous fruit. "I don't think I've been to this part of the theater. It's nice." Emma complimented. "Why, thank you. Lance and I decorated it ourselves. Why don't you sit down and relax? Take a seat wherever you want." Balan said, taking a seat on the couch. Emma decided to take a chair that was sitting away from the table.

"Now then," Balan spoke, crossing his legs. "Why don't you tell me what's going on? Why is it you look so nervous?" Emma once again avoided eye contact. She clasped her hands and held them in her knees. "I've... Got a choir concert to go to... And I got the part as lead singer for the final song." She replied. "Oh, how wonderful! This must be a big moment for you." Balan cheered. But Emma shook her head. "It's too big!" She exclaimed. "I've never sung solo ever before in my life! I get my teachers and choir classmates like my singing, but what about everyone else? I feel like there's so much riding on this moment!" She stood up and started to pace around again.

Balan just nodded as Emma continued her tangent. "Nervous sweating, fast heartbeat, tense posture, thinking about how the performance could go wrong. Yep. Seems to me you've got a terrible yet common case of stage fright." He spoke up. "You think!?" She yelled back. "What if I hit a sour note?! Or what if I miss my cue?! Or what if the audience doesn't like my singing?! There's too much pressure; I can't stand it! I don't think I can do it! If I have to sing lead, I think I'm going to pass out and die!" She sat back down in the chair, fanning herself and hyperventilating. "Ok, ok, relax. Freaking out isn't going to help. You're going to give yourself an aneurysm, and then what will you do?" Balan stood next to the girl, handing her a paper bag to breathe into. To which she snatched it out of his hand and began huffing and puffing into it.

She continued this for about a minute before she finally caught her breath. The maestro thought this was ultimately a good time to get a word in edge-wise. "Emma," He started. "What if I told you I, too, get stage fright?" Emma paused and looked at him with wide eyes. "What? YOU get stage fright? The maestro of positivity himself get's stage fright?" She asked. Balan nodded. "Yep. Sweating, tensing up, thinking about how it could all go wrong, even getting butterflies in my stomach." Emma looked doubtful. "You do NOT get butterflies."

"No, no! I really do get butterflies. See?" He pounds his stomach and spat out a butterfly. Emma watched in amusement as she watched it flutter away. She tried her best to hide a giggle. "Balan... Th-that's not funny." She said, restraining her laughter. "Oh, come on! You're laughing. Look, I'll do it again!" He pounded his stomach again and spat out another butterfly. A few bursts of laughter left her. "Balan, stop! This isn't helpful!" She laughed. Balan laughed along with her.

"Alright, all joking aside." He said at last. "I used to get terrible stage fright when I was just starting out at helping people restore their balance. I was about... Oh, 300 years old until I finally grew out of it." Emma cocked her head to the side, wondering where Balan was going with the story. "So... How did you grow out of it?" She asked. Balan shrugged. "Oh, it wasn't easy. I could barely get through the introduction without my knees knocking. Sometimes I would get so stressed I would stop rhyming. But you know, after all that time, I was finally starting to enjoy it. The longer you're on stage, and the more you do it, the thought of being afraid kind of dies. I also had a secret hack that could help with my nerves."

"And what was that?" Emma asked.

"Can you keep a secret?"

"Uh, sure."

Balan looked back and forth before kneeling down and whispering in Emma's ear. "Don't tell anyone I said this, but I always had someone cheering me on in the audience. And do you know who that was?" Emma shook her head. "It was none other than Lance." Emma's jaw dropped. She knew that Balan and Lance had a sibling relationship, but they were never two peas in a pod. "No!" She exclaimed. "Really? You're pulling my leg." Balan smiled. "It's true. This was back when we were going easier on each other, quite long before the bouts. For some reason, it comforted me knowing he was there. Now, obviously, our relationship has changed over a few millennia, but I never forgot how much he helped me." Emma smiled. It made her heart grow knowing that Lance still had a heart in there somewhere despite being a negative maestro.

"Now, don't tell Lance I said this, ok?" Balan pointed out. "He doesn't want anyone to know he has feelings. He says it will kill his stoic reputation." Emma zipped her lips and held out a hand, telling him that she promised. "I think it's thoughtful that someone would always be in the audience cheering you on." She paused for a second, thinking about what the maestro was talking about. "... Balan," She started. "Would you... Watch my concert tonight?" Balan smiled widely. "Aha! You finally picked up what I was putting down! Of course, I would love to hear you sing! What time does it start?"

"It starts at 6:30."

"Oh, that's an hour and a half from now. We better get you there quick!" The maestro looked at the girl, seeing that she still had sweat on her brow and her hair was messy after panicking about the show. "Hmm... But first, let's get you dolled up before you go to that concert."

The maestro snapped his fingers, making Emma's choir dress, necklace, and blush appear. He draped the dress and necklace over his arm while holding the compact in his hand. "Head to the bathroom and clean yourself up, dear. You still have time to clean up before you go on stage." Emma smiled as he leads her to the bathroom. He handed over the dress and compact as he waited outside for the teenager to finish up cleaning. A few minutes had passed, and Emma took a shower, blowdried and brushed her hair, put on her dress, and applied her makeup.

Balan looked over as she opened the door. "Why, Emma!" He cheered. "You look lovely! Though something is missing." He looked closely at her, trying to pinpoint what was missing. "Oh!" She announced. "My necklace! All the girls in the choir are meant to wear these fake pearl necklaces." Balan dangled the necklace with his fingers. "You're meant to wear these?" He asked.

"Yeah."

Balan scoffed. "You're not going to wear this! The star doesn't deserve FAKE pearls. Come here; I have something better." He tossed the fake necklace aside. He clasped his hands together and rubbed them firmly. When he opened his hands, a real pearl necklace appeared. Emma stood in awe. "Wow! Is this real?" She asked. Balan smiled with pride. "It's the genuine article. May I?" Emma nodded as Balan put the necklace around her neck. "There you go!" He said. "Now you're perfect!"

Emma's smiled widened. She already began to feel much better. "You promise you'll be there when it's my turn to sing?" She asked. "Cross my heart." The maestro promised as he made an X mark around his heart. "Now, go on. Your teachers and peers will want to see you. I can't wait to hear you sing." He said as he leads her to the door. "Thanks, Balan. I hope to see you there." She said as she left, hoping the maestro would keep his word.

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The concert was nearly over. It was time for the final song and Emma's lead role. She scanned the audience, looking for the top-hatted being. "Emma!" Called out a voice. It was Emma's choir director. "Are you ready for your solo?" She asked. The girl looked away. She felt her chest get tight, and she felt butterflies in her stomach again. "I'm... Expecting someone. In the audience. They promised they'd hear me sing. I can't find them." She continued to scan the audience, hoping to find her friend.

The director knelt down to her level. "I know you're nervous, Emma. But I'm sure that your friend, whoever they are, are out there in the audience right now, just waiting to hear your voice. And I know you'll be the brightest star out of anyone tonight. Have confidence in yourself, sweetheart." The whole choir group started going on the stage. "Take your place, Emma. Don't be scared. You can do it." The teacher held up two thumbs as Emma climbed up on stage.

As the curtains pulled away, the audience clapped their hands. Emma took a silent but deep breath, trying to maintain her composure. As the music started, she heard a slight sound. Her eyes wandered the auditorium until she looked in the front row. A man with seafoam green hair and a handsome white face with purple eye shadow. It was Balan! He undid the glamour for her. Seeing him, her heart instantly lifted as she started her song.

Emma could feel every ounce of nervousness melt away as she sang the lyrics. The more she carried on with the song, the less she noted the people in the auditorium. Dare she say it, she was enjoying herself. When the song was over, the crowd stood up and cheered. A single rose was thrown on stage. Emma picked it up and looked at the man in the front row. Balan clapped his hands and winked at her. Silently telling her, he knew she could do it. The teenager held back her tears of joy and smiled widely as she bowed for the audience.

#balan wonderworld #fanfiction #Emma Cole #Balan

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