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rogue-durin-16 · 3 years

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THINGS NEVER GO AS PLANNED (Part VII/VII)

"apart"

Summary: After Fred's death, George and Y/n lean on each other to carry on. This wasn't the most brilliant idea, though; George was pretty much in love with the girl, and Y/n— well, she had been dating Fred prior to the Battle of Hogwarts.

Pairing: George Weasley x Reader

Genre: angst

Tags:

Suggested by: @crispykittywitch

George Weasley: @meph1stophelian

Things never go as planned: @just-here-to-escape-from-reality @beautyschoo1dropout @s1ut4georgeweasley @sunshineandshadows @missmulti @accioweaslcy @andreaareynoso @georgeweasley16 @dianarte @skarlettmikaelson

Permanent taglist: @elia-the-bibliophile @randomparanoid @karlthecat15722 @thebutchersdaughtersblog @amourtentiaa @just-here-to-escape-from-reality

Warnings: language (?) Angst

A/N: P L E A S E DON'T MURDER ME YET THERE'S AN EPILOGUE OKAY?! OKAY now enjoy <3

Prologue: the aftermath

Part I: sleepless nights

Part II: candy floss

Part III: shock therapy

Part VI: wrong name

Part V: the perfect excuse

Part VI: the downfall

Epilogue: I still love you

Rogue-durin-16 masterlist

Since the Amortentia incident, Y/n had barely looked at me; not in the way I had avoided her after New Year, though, this time, it was different. She didn't seem to be doing it accidentally, rather than on purpose; she appeared to be too lost into her turmoil of thoughts to realise what she was doing, which scared me more.

I had figured the Amortentia would have had something to do with it, but it took me two days to pick up on it.

Undoubtedly, Y/n had smelled Fred's scent on it, and it dawned on her how twisted what we were doing was.

I cried myself to sleep the night that my mind stumbled upon that information. I let myself sob violently, pouring out as much pain as I could, wanting to wash away the recurrent thoughts that creeped on my mind, thoughts that were not unfounded.

That was it— I had lost both a friend and the woman I loved.

Once the tears seem to die out, a new thought appeared in my mind; maybe I was meant to be alone. I could barely function alone, how was I supposed to function with another person?

Perhaps I had always be meant to be alone.

I was going to be alone forever.

I was alone.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

READER'S P. O. V.

It took my careless arse a hot minute to be aware of how obvious my emotional rollercoaster was from the outside; George had been getting visibly upset by it —I'd dare to reckon he even cried the past night because of it—, and I had to stop that, but how?

I knew it was always best to tell the truth, but where would that take us? Nowhere good. I couldn't just tell George I was in love with him and expect us not to fall apart even harder.

He would think I'm lying, or that I'm using him as a second option —I couldn't let him think that—, but again, his mind had probably gone to those thoughts due to my radio silence.

I had to tell him the truth, and face the consequences.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

The sound of our front door's lock opening snapped me out of my own mind, and even made me jump a bit in the couch I sat. I had been waiting for George to arrive for a good couple of hours, weighing on how I could approach the topic, but I didn't seem to come up with anything remotely good.

He stepped into the flat with his eyes casted down, so it took him a moment to acknowledge my presence. "I—" his now dull eyes observed me with confusion, as if he wasn't expecting to see me in my own flat. "what are you doing awake?"

"Waiting for you." He closed the door, scrutinising me with furrowed brows. "I— well—" I cleared my throat and got up, causing his shoulders to tense up. "I wanted to tell you something."

I thought I would have to fight his childish behavior and convince him not to dodge the subject, but he only leaned on the door, his hands behind his back and his eyes casted down. "I... I wanted to tell you something too."

"You go first." I prompted him, planning on using those extra seconds to mentally prepare myself for what I was about to say —as if I hadn't been trying to mentally prepare myself for two hours already.

He peeked at me and sighed, his eyes coming back to his shoes before speaking. "I don't know how to say this— I" he pursed his lips and I could see the struggle irradiating from him. "I think you should move out." Now I knew why he refused to meet my gaze. "We— we need time away y'know— Fleur offered to help you look for an apartment. I'll go back to the Burrow until you find one— and I'm not firing you but I would appreciate if you didn't attend the clients if I'm there."

I should have spoken first, I scolded myself.

"Why?"

"What why?"

"Why you should've spoken first?"

"I— well, so you see," I tugged on my sleeves; it was my turn to avoid his look. "W-when I spilled the Amortentia— well I— I smelled—"

"I know."

"You... Do?"

"Yeah, that's... That's why I think we need some time away."

I had never in my life had my heart shattered in so many pieces in such a short span of time. The pain was so immense that I wasn't able to shed a single tear. Out of every outcome, this was the least expected.

"O-okay." We kept sneaking glances at each other in a dreadful silence until our eyes accidentally met. "I think—"

"I should—"

Another best of silence fell among us after we simultaneously spoke.

"I should go pick some things up." He muttered, passing by my side as fast as he could.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

The next morning I caught him, as I expected, sneaking out of the flat with one of the bags he had carried in months ago.

He was already exiting when I jogged out of my room, managing to catch his hand.

I could see the goosebumps in his arm, and I thanked Merlin he couldn't hear my heart threatening to leaving my chest to go with him.

"I'm really sorry, George." I whispered, squeezing his hand. Although I had a tiny bit of hope that he would change his mind and step back into our home if I said those words, it was more of a goodbye.

He just shook his head, letting me know there was no need for an apology, and squeezed my hand back before pulling away.

His fingers slipping away from mines was such an emptying feeling, as if my connection with him slept away from my grasp forever.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

I went to sleep that night hoping George's parting would have been a nightmare, and I cried the morning after when my brain took in that it was, in fact, very much real.

A heavily pregnant Fleur showed up that afternoon; she made me dinner and tried to cheer me up a little before making me get dressed so she could drag me out to look for flats in the Diagon Alley. It was an unsuccessful trip, but the Triwizard Tournament Champion wasn't about to give up so easily, so she came the next day, and the following, and on and on for a week.

As if summoned by the woman's will to find me a new home, we found a cheap, acceptable apartment near the shop.

I purchased it instantly, and soon enough I was moving out my things with Bill's help, to stop his wife from helping me herself.

"That's the last one, right?" Bill questioned, nodding at the bag laying on the couch with a box in his hands.

"Yup." I pulled it up and hung it on my shoulder.

"Need anything else?" I shook my head no. "Alright then I'll leave this at your place and apparate back home." He hesitated for a moment before adding, "I know it's none of my business but... Whatever happened between you two— it's fixable, believe me."

"I really don't think so." I muttered, gripping the bag's strap.

"It is," he repeated, adjusting the box in his arms. "just don't give up." He gave me a small, reassuring smile and disapparated.

Maybe he was right, maybe it was fixable. Taking a look around the now emptier apartment, I thought it surely didn't seem like it, but hope is the last thing you lose, right?

In a final attempt of getting him back, I grabbed a notebook from the bag and teared a page off it; I left the bag besides me as I knelt down and reached for a pencil forgotten over the coffee table.

Three Days Later

GEORGE'S P. O. V.

I entered the apartment— it was quiet, similar to a cemetery, just like the first time I stepped on the apartment after the war.

This time, it was empty, though.

Y/n didn't rush to the door when I opened it.

She didn't catch me when I fell on my knees and broke down to tears.

I was alone.

After Godric knows how long I managed to get myself back to my feet. I passed Y/n's old room as fast as I had first passed Fred's room months ago.

Once I got to my room and lay down on my bed, my mind cleared up enough for me to realise that I would be seeing Y/n the next day —at least once— at the shop.

"Fuck." I muttered, burying my face on my pillow.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

READER'S P. O. V.

He had asked me not to leave the office while he was in the shop.

He had explicitly asked me not to, but I needed to know if he had read my letter— no, I need to know if I had taken a step in the right direction by writing the letter.

So there I was, descending the stairs in his direction, and taking my time to do so since he was talking with a couple of clients.

"Y/n!" Verity rushed to me with what seemed a defective portable swamp. "I need your help with this," My eyes, still on George, caught the way his head snapped in my direction with sheer fear on it. "I've got a woman there threatening with suing us because the swamp send one of her children to St. Mungo!" The girl managed to get my attention with her anxious rambling.

"She can't do that." George, who had probably caught on Verity's words, spoke before I could. "She agreed on our shop policy." He reminded her, walking to stand by my side.

"I already told her that Mister Weasley, but she said she's 'not taking the words of a pipsqueak'." She replied in a whisper.

"She said what?" George questioned in disbelief.

"I'm gonna shove that lawsuit up her arse." I spoke, spotting the completely out of place middle aged woman who stood in front of Verity's till. "Send her to the office." Verity looked at me and then at George for confirmation, who simply gave her a nod.

Once Verity left, I turned to the ginger, whose warm eyes were already fixed on me. "How are you?" He inquired in a way that let me see it was out of politeness, which made my hopes die a little.

"Been better." I replied, ready to somehow test the waters. "How about you?"

"Same, I suppose." George didn't even try to put on a happy face, and I started to get anxious; there was no way he would have missed the note —I left it on the kitchen table— so that meant he had read it and- "You should go back to the office."

My heart attempted to hold onto the possibility of him not having read the note, but my brain knew better than that. "Alright." I nodded and went back to my workplace; I would deal with that woman and after that, I would prepare a resignation letter.

George was right, we needed to be apart.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

It wasn't that bad, I lied to myself, sitting down on the sofa while undoing the tie's knot.

My mind was about to begin the overthinking of Y/n's words when my stomach growled. Without noticing, I had gone without a single meal for the entire day.

I listened to my body and moved to the kitchen to prepare myself something. While the stove heated up, I turned around and took a look at the kitchen; just like the rest of the rooms, it seemed gloomier without Y/n lighting up the apartment.

Stop thinking about her.

My eyes landed on a piece of paper with one of Y/n's rings over it. Before properly realising it, I was sitting down on one of the chairs and reading what had been written in the scrapped page.

Dear George,

I know what happened is on both of us, but I can't help but blame myself, as selfish as it might sound.

You don't know this, but while at Hogwarts, I found you and Fred rather annoying— I didn't understand why everyone seemed to fancy you so much. Then, you hired me to work in this amazing shop, and I understood.

During these past two years I had the pleasure and honour to call you my friend; you made my life much better, I'd like to think I did the same.

I wanted to apologise for everything I've done since New Year. I'm so very sorry for falling in love with you. Though it was something so easy to happen, I never thought it would go this far.

I don't know what is this letter (a proper goodbye? I don't know), but I want need you to know that I never wanted to harm you nor our friendship, and that I'm still going to be here for you, feelings aside.

Love,

Y/n.

I re-read the fourth paragraph at least five times before taking it in.

She had fallen in love with me.

That's what she had meant to say when she spoke to me about the Amortentia— that she had smelled my scent— Oh no.

My reply— she probably thought it was unrequited; she probably thought I had kicked her out because she was in love with me and not quite the opposite.

Without thinking twice, I ran down to the office with the letter clutched in my hand; she had to be there, she was always the last one to leave.

She had to be there.

I was so focused on reaching the office on time that I missed Y/b's figure exiting the shop.

I slammed the door open, just to find the table's surface, which used to be full of Y/n's things, clean in its entirety, aside from an envelope which had written on it 'resignation'.

"No."

READER'S P. O. V.

I had just left the small box with my things over the coffee table, and was taking off my shoes when an apparition noise followed by a couple of bangs on my front door made me jolt.

Out of a sad habit I, among the rest of the Order, had gotten during the war, I grabbed my wand and approached the door.

My arm fell limply on my side while I stared into George's eyes, which seemed to hold back a storm of mixed emotions.

"C-can we talk?" My gaze then fell on the paper his hand was gripping, and that I assumed was my resignation.

"George, listen, I can't—"

"I'm in love with you."

Words had stumbled out of his mouth in panic, and the only thing I could reply was, "What?"

#george weasley headcanon #george weasley fanfiction #george weasley fanfic #george weasley x you #george weasley x reader angst #george weasley x reader #george weasley x y/n #george weasley x ravenclaw!reader #george weasley x hufflepuff!reader #george weasley x gryffindor!reader #george weasley x slytherin!reader #george weasley smut #george x reader smut #harry potter imagine #harry potter fanfiction #things never go as planned

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imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl · 3 years

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Stay With Me (Pt. 07 of 09)

Pairing: Daryl Dixon X Reader

Word count: 3 K

Summary: Daryl found you surrounded by the dead, stuck in the backseat of a car. You were wishing for death to take you away for quite a while now, but, as you slid back and forth into consciousness, there was only one thing keeping you alive. Him, the man with blue, worried eyes and kind voice. Your beaten up body was ready to give up, too wounded and broken to keep going. But this man, who went out of his way to save your life is the only thing in the world holding you up. And, because of him, you feel something you haven't felt in a very long time: hope. Wherever he's taking you, you want to get there, and not only to be buried. For what it feels like the very first time, you want to live. He takes you back to Alexandria, but even there, the nightmares and the terror from all the torture and pain you've been through keeps creeping closer, and Daryl, your hero, is the only one who can keep that all away.

Warnings: Mentions and description (not graphic) of past abuse; post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD); some violence at the end of the story (a little bit graphic, but not so much); blood.

<- Previous part (06)

Next part (08) ->

{The Walking Dead Masterlist}

I want to thank my awesome friend @jodiereedus22, who helped me (and still does) a lot to get this story done. She's also a writer and she's amazing so please go check her work!!

If You Love Me...

You've seen death. Often, cruel, cold. From afar and from up close. You felt it, in many different ways. At first when your family passed away, then your friends... And you felt it in your body too, in the months you spent held captive, wishing for it. And in the car, as you waited for it.

But it's different now. You were holding onto Melanie when she stopped moving, stopped breathing, the second after the baby cried for the very first time. Her whole body went numb, turned off. She knew her pregnancy was dangerous. Melanie is old, and she had a heart condition. That was the reason why she never tried for a baby before. But now, with the world on its end, she decided to try. Death is certain, she told you once, and if she died in the process of delivering her child, she'd die happy. With a purpose.

But of course, you never thought it would actually happen.

The commotion that followed happened in a blur. Carol passed you the child in a hurry, pushing you out of the room.

You know what happens now. Daryl told you a while ago. Everyone who dies comes back. Everyone is infected. You try not to think about it, to focus on life instead of death.

And that's what you're holding in your arms now. Life. Tiny and fresh, his little cries making your body move out of instinct, slowly swinging from side to side until he's quiet again.

When it's done, and Melanie's dead body won't raise up again, Carol comes and you help her clean the baby. Luke, after her late husband. Denise is quick to gather all the baby supplies needed, and she starts telling you and Carol what to do. Carol already knows, of course, because of her daughter Sofia.

It's quite obvious Carol will take care of the child. It's implied by how Denise is so focused on her, talking fast, gesturing a lot. She's a little funny actually, and easy to talk to. Once little Luke is clean and dressed in his first clothes, in a pale shade of blue, Carol picks him up and he starts crying, with powerful lungs. She starts mumbling, talking to the baby, but he doesn't stop.

“Alright, alright.” She whispers. “Shh.”

“Does he need anything?” You ask, watching as Carol bounces him slowly.

“We did everything. Maybe he's in pain.” Denise removes some of the hair that has fallen on her face. “Let's take him to the infirmary so I can take a look.”

“Ok.” Carol agrees, raising her voice above the baby's cries. “(Y/N), can you carry him? These bags are too heavy for you and–” You quickly step forward, once again welcoming the baby into your arms “–you still need to be careful with your...” Her voice fades as Luke stops crying, his tears shining on his cheeks.

He's so light you feel like you're barely holding anything. “He stopped,” Denise mutters. “I don't think he was in pain.”

Looking down at the baby, you stand there, motionless. “What do you think it was?” You ask in a low voice.

“Uhm, I don't know. Maybe he likes you.” She mumbles, hands on her hips. “Carol, do you think you can take care of him? If not we'll have to find a family willing to adopt.”

“We can.” You burst out, because suddenly the idea of giving Like into another family sounds absurd. “Can we? I'm sure you can teach me and I'll help.”

“We sure can.” She affirms, and you smile. “Let's get going now. They will soon come to bury Melanie.” Her voice gets darker in the end, heavier.

The whole city attempted to Melanie's funeral. You stood there, beside Carol, little Luke in your arms. You felt anxious when some people came to meet the baby, offering you their condolences and any help you might need now. But eventually, she's buried, and you can't help but let a few tears roll down. Melanie was always kind and wise, and it breaks your heart that Luke won't get to know his mother.

In the next days, Carol has been teaching you everything about babies. Teaching you how to look after him. The baths, how to prepare the baby bottle, how to deal with fevers, and stuff like that. You make a hell lot of questions, eager to know every single thing you can.

Your days revolve around Luke, what is good because you don't have time to think about Daryl and the possibility of him not wanting anything with you. The possibility that those warm nights in his arms are over.

Carol helps you get into a good schedule with the baby. You take turns waking up when he starts crying at night, but despite him growing used to Carol, she takes longer to rock him to sleep again. Luke feels better around you, she says. And honestly, you don't mind one bit. Carol assures you the cryings will get worse. Newborn babies sleep a lot, and with time, he'll need less sleep and that's when things will get hectic. But you're ok with it. You're mesmerized by him, so tiny, so innocent. A beacon of light in such a dark world. It's like a miracle to have a baby here, in an Earth where now the dead can walk again.

As the days pass by, you notice that you easily learn your way with Luke. Carol calls it mother instinct, but you never thought you had it in you... You never really thought about kids, but now... Maybe you could have one...

This thought reminds you of Daryl. Having a baby means you'll have to be very intimate with someone. And you can't imagine being intimate with anyone who isn't Daryl. Sighing, you look through the window of Luke's bedroom. It used to be Daryl's, but since he's sleeping in yours, Carol thought it would be ok to change things. So all of his stuff were reallocated to give Luke his space. Even though he doesn't need much now, being so little.

You haven't told Daryl about it yet. Your talks are always brief, just enough for you to know he's alright and for him to know you're alright as well.

Today, another sweet and slow morning, you're at the couch, a sleepy Luke in your arms. Carol is doing the dishes and getting some stuff ready for lunch. The kids will be coming, so she has something special planned. You'll help her in a few moments when Luke is asleep enough so you can leave him in his crib upstairs.

“I'm going to make cookies for the afternoon. What do you think?” She asks from the kitchen in a low voice.

“The kids will love it.” You say, turning your head to look at her. “When are you going to tell me your secret ingredient?”

“Never, obviously.” She answers and you giggle. “You would have to–” Her voice fades suddenly, and you listen as she puts something down. “Honey, I think they're back.”

“What?” Your heart skips a beat. “Are you sure?”

“Let me check.” She says and walks out, leaving you alone with your thoughts.

Well, not alone. Looking down at Luke, you smile when he moves his hand, grabbing something in his sleep. He's so oblivious to the war happening in your heart now. In your brain. This is it. He's back one day earlier than planned, but even though you knew the time was coming, you couldn't prepare yourself for it. Breathing deeply, you caress Luke's forehead, very lightly as if he's a fragile little thing. His mouth moves a little as if he's trying to speak and you giggle.

“What are you dreaming about, little one?” You ask him, wondering if babies can even dream. Maybe Denise knows, you'll ask her later.

“(Y/N).” His voice startles you, and you immediately look up from Luke, meeting Daryl's blue eyes as he stands by the door.

“D.” Smiling you quickly scan through his body, relieved not to find any sign of injury. “You're back.”

“Aye.” He mumbles. “Ya always have a kid with ya when I come back” He adds, stepping closer to the cough and giving the baby a look. “Who's this?”

“This is Luke. Melanie's baby, she... She couldn't make it.” The happiness fades a little, and Daryl seems a little sad as well.

“Was it her heart?”

“Yeah. It just stopped.” Sighing, you keep your eyes on Daryl. His face softens a little. “She told me once you know... That she'd rather die bringing her child to the world than in any other way but I never thought it would actually happen.”

“Who's gonna take care of him now?”

“I'm the designated mother.” You mumble, smiling.

Daryl looks up from the kid, eyes meeting yours. “By who?” You see a hint of anger in his eyes and you know why. He thinks someone pushed into it, and Daryl hates when people push you into things. Since the very beginning. He did have a fight with Rick when he first showed up here, wanting you to speak about your past. Now it's just a little bit worse. Daryl is very protective, and you can't help but smile to know this hasn't changed. Not yet.

“By him.” Tilting your head to the kid, you giggle when Daryl's face changes, softening again. “Kid likes me, what can I do?”

“Huh.”

“Wanna hold him?”

“Lemme shower. ‘M covered in mud and I don't wanna to give ya or the baby an infection or anythin’.” He says, already moving upstairs.

“Alright.” Settling down again, you bounce Luke a little, but by the looks of it, he's in deep sleep already. “What happens now, little one? Can you please tell me?” In a low voice, you ask him. If only anyone could answer that...

“Where's Daryl?” Carol asks as she comes inside, closing the door.

“Showering.”

“Let me put him in his crib.” She comes to the couch, and you carefully lies Luke in her arms. “You two need to talk.”

“Yeah.” You mutter, watching as she moves upstairs.

You don't want to talk to Daryl. Maybe you shouldn't have spoken to him about your feelings. What if it's too early? Things were perfect before and you don't think you can take it if he wants to... End things? Change things? “Shit.” Quickly, you get up, leaving the house. Running away is not your thing. Not when it comes to Daryl. The only running there is, is when you run into his arms. But now, you just can't. And you don't know where to go. So you just start walking downstreet, trying not to think too much. There isn't anywhere to hide here. If Daryl wants to find you, he will.

“(Y/N)!” Someone calls, and after the usual terror, you recognize Maggie's voice, turning on your heels to look at her. “Daryl's back. Go see him.”

“I-I know.” Stuttering, you look at the street, making sure Daryl isn't anywhere he can see you before you make your way over her. “I just...”

“I thought you two were ok. Before he left I swear to God I thought you'd kiss him.” She climbs down the few steps of the porch, but you gesture for her to go back inside.

“We are.” Maggie has become a close friend. And if you don't talk about this things with someone, nobody will be able to help. “Uhm... I...”

“C'mon in.” She opens the door and steps aside. “Glenn isn't here so don't worry.”

“Ok.” Sighing, you step in, moving to the couch and taking a seat.

“Now...” Maggie comes and sits beside you, a leg folded under herself. “...why aren't you in Daryl's arms right now?”

It's not a secret anymore, Daryl and you. It eventually got out of the house, you don't really know how. “Because I... Goddamn it! I told him I wanted us to be a couple. Right before he left so he could think about it and now I'm terrified of what he'll say and I'm running from him.” You speak fast, hands covering your face. “I freaking love him.”

That's it. The words just came out. You freeze, breathing fast, the weight of the acknowledgment making a few tears roll down. You lie back on the couch, eyes on the ceiling.

“So... Do you want me to act surprised?”

“I want him to love me too.” It comes out as a whisper because this can't be heard by anyone. Not even by Maggie. But that already happened.

“Daryl allowed you to touch him. In public. And he touched you. Again, in public.” Maggie touches your leg, shaking it a little to get your attention, only stopping when you sit up again. “If he didn't love you back, that wouldn't happen.”

“Daryl... May like me. He's very protective and I love that since... Well, since all that shit happened but... Maybe this is it.”

“I don't think so. Daryl always makes sure everyone is safe, but with you it's different.”

Sighing, you wonder if you should believe that. Maybe, if you keep your hopes low, you won't get hurt.

No. You'll get hurt anyways. “I think I should go...”

“Yeah, he'll come here looking for you.”

“Maybe...” Pushing yourself back at your feet, you take a deep breath. “I'll... Take a walk.”

“You know he'll find you, right?” She says, following you to the front door.

“I know... Thanks, Maggie.” Smiling at her, you walk away, always careful in the steps before heading to the garden on the West side of the city.

There are some people here, not much though, but you still keep a distance. By the wall, there's a small square, if you can call it that, with some benches and threes. The kids come to play here some days, but it's not their favorite place. Taking a sit, strategically by a three so it'll hide you, you cross your legs. The wind makes you shiver since the thought of bringing a coat didn't even cross your mind. But it's beautiful here, and lonely. Few people come here, and you rather be alone. At least now, to think.

“Never thought ya would run from me.” His voice makes your heart skip a bit, and you do feel a little guilty. You're not sure why though. Silently, you watch as he comes to stand before you.

“I'm not...” You're were running away. No reason to try to dissimulate. “I just needed some time. Thought you would need some too, so...”

“Had plenty of time out there.” Raising your head to look at him, you can't shake the feeling he always brings you. Safety, warmth, home...

“Yeah... But you don't have to... I mean, what I said before, you don't have to...”

“We need ta’ talk. But not here, c'mon.” He reaches out his hand and you take it, pulling yourself up. “Ya need me ta’ carry ya?”

“No, I can walk.” If he's about to end things, the best you can do it put some distance already.

You walk at the fastest pace you can, eager to just end this. To know what happens now and work from there.

The moment you get to the house, Carol leaves, telling you Luke is asleep and he won't be up for a few hours.

So you go back to the couch, sitting down and bracing yourself, preparing for the worst. Daryl sits beside you but doesn't say anything. Bouncing your leg, you curse yourself for what you did. You know Daryl isn't the one to talk about his feelings, and you don't want to push him to.

“I'm sorry for what I said. I shouldn't have–”

“Ya wanna be with me. Why?” He bursts out, and you look at him. Daryl has his elbows on his knees, eyes on the floor.

“Because I–” Are you really gonna say it? Can you tell him that? Isn't it too soon? Or too late? “I really, really like you... More than a friend or a protector.”

“Ya shouldn't. ‘M way older than ya and yer–”

“Daryl, it's not up to you to decide what I should or shouldn't do. Or feel.” Cutting him short, you turn your body towards him, touching his arm, relieved when he finally looks up into your eyes. “I know you think very low of yourself. I'm well aware of the age thing, but I don't care. What I need to know is how you feel about me.” Making a pause, you take a deep breath. This isn't easy, but you have to talk. To somehow make it easier for him, if that's even possible. “It's alright if you don't. I-I know you don't like talking about this, but I just need to know if... If there's anything else... If you feel this way about me too...”

“I like ya, (Y/N).” He says in a very low voice, you can barely hear it. “And ya shouldn't have feelings for me.”

“Daryl...”

“Nah, lemme talk.” He cuts you off, faking an angry tone. Raising an eyebrow, you nod. “Ya shouldn't. Yer... Young an’ pretty an’ I can't ruin ya. Ya deserve someone better than me.”

“I don't want anyone else, Dixon.” It breaks your heart when he talks like that. You wish he could see himself through your eyes. Who he really is, not this messed up an image he has of himself. “And you won't ruin me. I don't even know what you meant by that, but that's not true, Daryl, I... If you want this... If you want me, you won't ruin me. You'll make me very, very happy.”

You're happy you managed to say all that, despite the many pauses and all the stuttering. There is much more to say, but the time will come. For now, everything you need is to know how he feels.

“I think yer making a mistake, but... I've been thinkin’ and... I don't like bein’ away from ya.”

A smile starts making its way to your lips. “Does it mean that...”

“Yeah, I guess it means that.” He affirms, still not wanting to say the words.

“...Are we going to be a couple?” You have to be sure before celebrating it.

“Yeah.”

“Like... boyfriend and girlfriend?”

“Ya need me ta’ drawn it to ya?” He bursts out, an annoyed expression on his face.

Giggling, you raise an eyebrow. You love this side of Daryl and you hope to see more of it. “Sassy Daryl is one of my favorite Daryls.” You say, moving to his lap, straddling his hip. A second later you realize what you did, your cheeks burning. Daryl is red too, and he's not sure what to do with his hands, but you soon feel them on your waist. “So... Oh, I don't know if you noticed but your room was claimed by a newborn child.”

“Yeah, I noticed the crib.”

“So you're now permanently stuck in my bedroom. Hope it's not a problem.” Smiling, you wrap your arms around his neck. You then realize you haven't kissed him yet. And, hell, you want to.

“Not at all.”

“Can I kiss you?” It comes out suddenly, too fast, and you look down, wondering if he can listen to your heart since it's beating insanely fast.

“Ya want to?” He almost stutters, his voice barely a whisper.

“Yeah...” Nodding, you move closer, eyes closing, and your skin burning in anticipation.

You jump to hear the front door opening, head immediately turning to find Carol. Her eyes go wide at the sight of you and Daryl like this...

“I–”

“Carol, I need you to go away. Like right now.” You tell her, urgency in your voice. You don't want the moment to pass, and you just need to kiss him. Right now. It's like a matter of life and death. “Please.” You decide to add.

“Alright, alright.” Raising her hands, she quickly goes upstairs, and you settle down again, hoping Daryl hasn't changed his mind.

“Ok... Can I–”

You feel his lips on yours before you can finish, and you don't mind at all. Pushing yourself closer to him, you deepen the kiss, completely inebriated by him. The pace is slow at first, as if you're getting to know each other, feeling each other, but then it changes, faster, full of need. You get the sensation he doesn't believe this is happening, by the way his arms hold you as if you would disappear. You won't. This is where you want to be, right here, with him.

@funeral-7 @heyyy-hey-babyyy @twdeadfanfic @soraitmnt @winchester-angel @bvbwestfall @shawtygonemad @cameronsails @pulplorrd @browneyes528 @btsiguess-kpop @a-dlv @bibibeauelle

#daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon imagine #imagin daryl dixon #daryl dixon x y/n #daryl dixon x you #the walking dead x reader #imagine the walking dead #the walking dead imagine

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katsukikitten · 3 years

Text

Wholesome Frat AU, Clearly aged up, college au, main characters are Bakugou, Kirishima, Denki, Sero, Jiro, Mina, and of course you my dear reader. Sexual themes, mentions of drugs and booze through out.

AHEM

Chapter 1

Denki lies upside down off his bed, staring at his phone when another invite to a party comes through. It's from a classmate he shares notes with and one of the few non toxic dudes on campus. A smile forms on his face, his fingers ready to fly across the screen to confirm his Friday night to be golden and one to remember.

Or maybe wish to remember as alcohol and maybe some weed numb his senses.

But then the location comes through, a frat house that's notorious for ignorance and low key rape culture. He turns it down claiming to study and sighs. Staring at his shared four walls from the top bunk.

"What's going on with you? No one wants you to keep their bed warm tonight?" Sero teases passing him up a beer before starting the next round of his game. Preferring to get buzzed and troll in Apex lobbies than find somewhere to be tonight.

Their phones buzz at the same time, Kirishima coming through on the group chat.

Big Red 🦈 : Any plans tonight boys?

Boomboi 💣 : Fuck off, busy.

Tape dispenser 🎞 : Apex

Zaptos ⚡: got invited to a party but location is sus af. You bro?

Big Red 🦈 : Yikes 😬 Keepin some ladies safe. Don't like the scene here…

Tape dispenser 🎞 : Same

Zaptos ⚡: Same

Boomboi 💣: FUCK OFF!

Denki and Sero both smirk at their phones before moving on with their Friday night with small talk of Instagram stories and received risque snapchats. As the beer fridge gets dwindles their thoughts seem to grow.

"Okay, listen. Here me out!" Denki says as if Sero would ever come off defensive. He finishes his eighth beer before continuing.

"What if we started our own frat? Like...like a fucking wholesome one."

"Dude not only does that sound impossible but what would we call ourselves?" Sero chuckles nursing his seventh beer. Denki pauses for a moment, trying to think of something, anything great.

"Alpha Kappa Wholesome." He smiles, "Yea that's it!"

Sero laughs from his bottom bunk earning an angry faced Denki to put half of his body over the side of his bed.

"I'm serious man! We could kick out whoever doesn't match our values. This college is supposed to be about making 'lasting connections' with fellow heroes! How are we supposed to do it when we are cooped up in our tiny dorm!" He gestures to their cramped room. A set of bunk beds and desks with their TV and shared dresser on the far wall. Sero looks around, this sure as hell wasn't like the dorms at UA that's for sure.

"Okay well two people isn't enough for a frat, man." Sero lets the dream die before it can bloom, running a hand through his raven hair. Denki scrunches up his face before he remembers where his crush stays. It's as if a light bulb lit up atop his upside down head. He jolts himself falling from the top bunk crashing into the empty beer bottle. They clink in protest but thankfully non break, just roll beneath the bottom bunk.

"But there is a sorority of only four and we have four friends in our group!"

Denki decides now is a good time to face time them. Kirishima answers first with a shout that he's gonna step outside, the roaring party and flashing lights die behind the shutting door while Bakugou is illuminated by the light of his screen glaring into the camera while a meek looking girl hides.

"This better be fucking good." Bakugou growls.

After an hour and a half of screaming Denki finally convinces Bakugou that sharing a house with the three of them as opposed to a rando was a much better idea. Reminding him that he had done it for three years in highschool surely he could last two more. He agrees but refuses to help argue with the dean meanwhile Kirishima is GLOWING with excitement over the idea formulating with his sober mind the best way to handle the notorious harsh Dean.

It takes petitions, several meetings and almost til the spring break to come down to this, the final meeting. Bakugou, who has attended every meeting and true to his word has said nothing. Denki nervous as a sinner in church, Sero who's sweating bullets and Kirishima all sit in the room with the board, treasury and the Dean in a final meeting of sorts.

Kirishima gulps and before he can explain the benefits the frat will have to offer the Dean stops him with a simple show of his hand. Taking a report from the secretary of treasury to look over, he just needed the monetary excuse to back up his favorite word.

"No." He clears his throat, "Unfortunately funds are too low to be able to support another fraternity." The Dean leaves it at that not even bothering to offer they join something preexisting.

Three of the four men accept defeat, mentally communicating that they did a good job trying. But the fourth man dreamed of his own room, of his own space to do as he pleased. And all without threat of being charged with murder. Although the fourth man would never admit that the reason he spoke up wasn't totally about the room, it was the look of defeat, anguish on his friends faces that had the room heating up a degree or two and smelling heavily of boiling sugar.

"Oi, toupee." The hot head let's his seat fall back to all fours, fixing the Dean a withering look, "You said something about not enough money huh?"

The Dean swallows thickly carefully thinking out his next sentence.

"Why, Yes its…." Bakugou interrupts before the Dean can even finish his thought.

"Pretty sure I'm the reason this campus is gonna be swarming with fucking no name extras next year." Katsuki's smile widens as his hand pops, "If you deny this request with the money I'm making you then I'll participate in the university sports festival with another college's across my fucking chest."

The Dean visibly sweats, Bakugou really was a hard student to land. His brash attitude and unapologetic behavior was popular among the younger generation bringing with it an influx of applicants and donations. It hadn't even been 24 hours since his announcement did it crash the admin and donation site. He panics, not even sure if there is any real estate available on or around campus in order for him to legally allow this fraternity to flourish. As if reading his mind the secretary of grounds offers him a file, an old run down home within a decent walking distance of the main campus. The Dean exhales the breath he didn't realize he was holding.

"Let's not act so rash. It has just come to my attention that we have some extra funding to be able to purchase a place for you all…" He looks over the file, he hopes this is enough to placate the hot head, "But it will need some old fashioned sweat equity, if we can secure it. The town has been kind enough to offer us first dibs to real estate within a certain radius of campus and if they like our offer you hardworking men will have your 'Alpha Kappa Wholesome home."

"They better like your offer." Is all Bakugou says before standing, "We get the keys in a month, got it?"

He doesn't give the Dean time to rebuttal, he just leaves while the other shocked three follow suit. It isn't until they are in the courtyard does their excitement hit them all at once.

"HOLY SHIT BAKUBRO ALWAYS COMING IN ON THE FUCKING KLUTCH!" Denki shouts, tackling Bakugou into a hug, Sero and then Kirishima wrap their arms around the yelling hot head who threatens to blow them up.

"I owe you a fucking drink!" Kirishima shouts lifting the group and twirling them

"OI OI OI SHITTY HAIR PUT ME DOWN!"

After that promised drink and a month of waiting the four musketeers stand before their new home. The house is trashed, easily a short sale of a foreclosure as the rent went higher but their wages stayed low. The amount of work to make this place semi decent was going to be astronomical at best.

Bakugou is thoroughly unimpressed, scoffing as Denki runs up the porch. The vision is clear in the electric blonde's head. The massive porch is clean, with a swing and some chairs, string lights hanging from the wooden ceiling while the half wrapped around, second story porch is draped in endless artificial star light cloaking the house in cozy warmth.

Dneki opens the front door and plume of dust rushes out around him, the other two follow suit. Taking the steps two at a time as they rush into the house. Harsh garnet stares after them before glancing at their luggage. He decides to leave it all stepping inside.

Their imaginations run rampant as they stand beneath the large archway to the main living room while Bakugou begins to second guess opening his mouth. That or getting more money from the Dean. Before displeasure can leave the hot head his friends turn to face him, their eyes shining and smiles stretched wide, wide enough it begins to hurt Bakugou's own cheeks. They encourage him to step into the home more, telling him what will go where. For a moment his smile is soft, tender as he looks at these three idiots seeing the bright side of everything before he steels back into his normal self.

"Oi! Quick acting all googly eyed. We've got a lot of work to do and a lot of fucking money to raise."

The four friends spend majority of their spring term picking rooms and doing basic cleaning. Bringing only one of the two full bathrooms up to par, trying their best to keep up with the old big house. Even after all of them picked their rooms there were still three bedrooms and a den with a door left. They brain stormed adding recruits but Bakugou shot the idea down despite Sero being elected the president of the frat.

Spring boils into summer, bringing with it the promise of cold hard cash. Bake sales and lunch deals thanks to Bakugou's cooking skills brought in a large amount of income, so did the odd jobs Kirishima, Denki, and Sero found themselves doing. Still they find themselves short.

"Shirtless carwash!" Denki announces earning a glare from Bakugou. Kirishima pipes up before the idea is blasted sky high.

"Think of the money man. The community around here is soccer mom's and freshly graduated college kids and I don't know about yall but when I go for a run or hit up the corner store after a good run I'm being stared at."

"That's a valid point Bakugou. I've seen how they flock to you for baked goods, they've been staring at your arms and eyes man." Sero adds voting yes to the idea making it three to one.

Just as Kirishima said, woman and even some men, flock to the area for a car wash. Some even coming back twice in one day! The cash flow is good but still a bit lacking. Denki wipes the sweat from his brow as he wonders how they will get enough to be able to get decent light fixtures and a working fridge in the dorm. Let alone anything aside from a blown up mattress and folding chairs in the living room. He scrolls through his social media on his break and comes across the miracle he has been asking for.

A lovely summer picture of four women in bikinis, three of them his housemates have lived with before. Mina Ashido, Jiro Kyoka, Ochako Uraraka, and then there is the new woman, you.

But what makes the picture that much sweeter isn't even the content itself, no it's that gorgeous caption just beneath it.

"BASIC BITCH CAR WASH! Help us raise money for an apartment so our sorority doesn't get disbanded!"

An idea formulates in the electric blondes head so quickly he thinks sparks fly from his ears. A dangerous smile forms on Denki Kaminari's lips.

#bakugo x reader #bakugou x reader #bnha x reader #bakugou katsuki #bnha au #bnha college au #bnha wholesome frat au

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creepypocky · 3 years

Note

Hello dear! May I have a romantic and Nsfw creepypasta match-up please? Feel free to ignore this if they are closed but if you do choose to do this then thank you so much! I hope you have a great day/night!

Zodiac sign: Leo sun, Aries moon, Leo rising

Personality Type: ENTP

Pronouns: She/her

Sexuality: Straight (For now might be bi but i'm going with straight)

I'm 5'4 and I have a very tiny body frame so i'm extremely petite and pretty small. I'm not very curvy and I literally have the body of a cereal box...lol but its fine because I have nice hips and thighs. I have thick brown hair that goes down to my back and it gets tangled pretty easily but its kinda fluffy. I have brown eyes and tiny freckles all over my face and body. I also have a very strong grunge style, like Flannels, band t-shirts, combat boots, leather jackets etc. But i'd also always enjoy a nice oversized sweatshirt or hoodie with a pair of skinny, ripped jeans and some converses or something along those lines.

For my personality.....this is where things get interesting. At first people find me very intimidating due to my resting bitch face and cold exterior but I promise i'm not like that ALL the time. When you get to know me, i'm a big extrovert, goofy and about everything that comes out of my mouth is sarcasm or some dry humored joke. I'm also that one friend in a group where they literally will do the stupidest shit ever like for an example one time it was super dark outside and my other friend was there, while I was trying to climb a tree and I failed and fell out of the tree, and landed on my back. I got straight up after that somehow it didn't hurt.....like at all? But yeah i'm super reckless and sometimes people have to save me from myself if you get what I mean. I also have a very strong "I don't give a fuck" attitude and I will not hesitate to stick up for myself or my friends....like i'm the type of person where if someone glares at me, i'll glare right back. I can have bad anxiety and I can be very self destructive. This is where my feisty, stubborn, hardheaded side comes in. If I want something then i'll fight for it even if it hurts me and i'll get into a bad cycle of putting myself down and trying to do better even if I did great the first time but I always push myself too far and other people have to stop me because I usually can't see it when its happening. I also cover my emotions up and I have a lot of trouble talking about whats bothering me or what problems i'm having emotionally so I put up a wall and I act tough, or happy and sometimes i'll be the exact opposite but I try to hide it.

Weird things about me: I've grown up in the south all my life so sometimes when I talk a few words they'll come out sounding WAYYY more country and southern then I wanted, I don't have an accent but sometimes my words just come out that way. I also love the smell of cigarette smoke....let me explain. When I was a kid my parents smoked a lot and I was used to smelling it and now it reminds me of home and is sort of comforting.

Things I like: I love swimming (I was on a swim team for about 9 years), I love horror movies, I like rain and the sounds of thunderstorms because its calming to me, I also love the smell of rain, I like cloudy days, cooking, listening to 80's and 90's rock but mainly 90's because 90's is the best, My favorite bands are Bush, Audioslave, Red Hot Chili Peppers, Linkoln Park, Pearl jam but i'm pretty open to anything. Things I dislike: Spiders.......I will scream if I see a spider.

So for the nsfw part.....I'm very shy and i'd like it if someone guided me. But i'm 100% a Bottom and I love praise and maybe a tiny bit of degradation. I also have a big ownership kink like if someone tells me that i'm their's....then I might die. Also if they told me that they "Needed" me I would also die on the spot...in a good way. I'm also a sucker for marking like lovebites and hickies? Yes please. But please tease me and edge me because I prefer not having control so someone else being in control is just...lovely. Also pet names! Like Sunshine, Babygirl, Doll....AHHhh I might melt. Things I don't like are impact play or the whole "Daddy kink" It kinda just makes me cringe

I also don't think I really have a type but.....I do tend to love people who are brooding, and intimidating on the outside but a big teddy bear on the inside because that's how I am sometimes. I hate people who are fake or just passive aggressive because they are super annoying to deal with and honestly if you have something to say then just say it to my face rather than behind my back.

Hello :)

|| I enjoyed reading through this. I'll definitely work on it now. ||

I match you with ~ Jeff The Killer!

First off, he really likes your size and style, he has a think for small girls that can still be tough and that’s something he loves showing off when you get together lmfao, he’s like, “Yeah, my girls strong. Fuck you gonna do about it?”

Now, Jeff is a really unstable, violent guy. A lot of people (even me) don’t even see him ever being interested in being in a relationship, so when the creeps saw Jeff with his arm around you, they were immediately baffled by it.

The truth is, though, this man totally wants to have someone by his side, someone that accepts him even though he’s a killer. Someone that’s open to his feelings and is willing to look past all of the horrible shit he’s done.

You’re like that to him, it took him a very long time to get used to how he felt for you at first. At first he thought his brain was just being stupid, but Jeff isn’t dumb. He knows what these feelings feel like, and he recognized them almost immediately after that.

Jeff is really insane, and he constantly leans on you for support and depends on you to keep him leveled at times. It can get pressuring, but despite it all he always makes sure to not blame you if he ends up doing something dumb because he knows it’s not your fault.

He finds your clothing style pretty hot, he really loves badass kind of outfits with leather and band names, because as I said, he loves to show off that his girl is “cool” or something.

He thinks your resting bitch-face and cold exterior is really badass too, being around you always gives him so much confidence and its a great change from the usual fake confidence he has around everyone that he keeps up as a defense mechanism when in reality he was always pretty insecure.

I honestly think Jeff is an extrovert too, like he loves being around people and interacting with them (When they’re not normal people and don’t think he’s hideous, that is). I canon this mostly because when hes alone, then he’s also alone with his thoughts and his thoughts always end up wandering to his insecurities and what he hates about himself, but you often catch him during these times and you reassure him that everything will be okay and that you still love him.

He totally relates to being the friend that says stupidest shit, you two will often just go up to one of the creeps and just start spouting random shit. He honestly fucking loves being goofy with you, and you two are always creating awesome memories together when you prank the other creeps and sometimes each other and he honestly wouldn’t have it any other way.

When you do stupid shit that gets you in trouble or puts you in danger, he’s always quick to get to you and make sure you’re okay, he would probably panic a lot though. Like, “What the fuck, dumbass?” “How the HELL did you do that???“ as he’s frantically trying to solve the situation. Will most definitely sit there and laugh at you for a good 5-10 minutes once the whole thing is dealt with though.

You being able to stick up for your friends is one of the great qualities about you that he absolutely adores, especially since before he became a killer he would always get bullied and nobody would ever stick up for him, so one day when you defend him against a bunch of assholes it just warms his heart up and makes him feel so loved, but he most likely wont admit that.

He’d let it slip eventually though.

When you’re feeling self-destructive, he is 100% there for you. Although he’s not really the best at giving advice, he’ll still sit there with you and let you talk your heart out and will listen to every single word because he wants to show that same contribution towards you that you’ve shown him. He’ll constantly reassure you that not everything is your fault and that you’re strong, and he’ll make little promises to you.

If it was a person in particular making you feel that way though, he’d definitely make sure to pay a visit to the motherfucker.

He admires your determination to fight for the things you want, but to an extent. He hates it when you overwork yourself or push beyond your limits to the point where it destroys you, and he wants you to know that you’re not alone and you can ask for help, you don’t have to destroy yourself. He’s more than willing to stay right there, by your side.

He understands hiding your true emotions, because well, he’s had to do it a lot around the other creeps and around his family when they were still alive. So he won’t ever push you to talk about somehting if you don’t want to, but he doesn’t want you to pretend to be okay either. He’s more than willing to just lay with you and do whatever you want if it would make you feel better.

He honestly likes how you have a southern accent at times, when he’s feeling upset or like his sanity is draining, your accent really soothes him so sometimes he’ll ask you to lay it on thick because he could honestly listen to you talk to him and listen to your accent all day if he wanted to.

It’s good that you like cigarette smoke because I canon this man smokes very often.

When it storms at night, he’ll always hold you close to him with a blanket and just listen to the storm sounds with you because it soothes him too. This man is really pent up from feeling driven to constantly murder and just sitting with you listening to the rain and thunder is one of the main things that level him.

He’s really not the best.... at cooking.... but, this means you can cook often for him since he won’t for himself. B)

He will just put you in a car and drive for hours to no destination and blast that 80s and 90s music just to see that smile on your face.

This man will 100000000000% destroy any spider within a 10 mile radius of you.

He understands not liking people who are fake because there were a lot of people who talked shit about him when he went to school, and when he has a problem with someone he will always say it to their face and make them understand that they’re a piece of shit to him.

NSFW:

You like being dominated and guided? Good, because this man is at least 95% a top. He thinks it’s adorable that you’re shy and will most definitely be willing to guide you through the whole thing and tell you exactly what to do for him.

Jeff is really possessive tbh, so when he’s fucking you he will constantly say shit like,

“Fucking mine”

“You’re nobody elses“

“You belong to me, only”

This man will definitely bite you everywhere, he lives to just throw you down onto the bed and start biting everywhere on your body and making sure to leave marks just so you know exactly who owns you.

Don’t worry honey, he will spend hours just filling you with his cock and telling you that you cant cum unless you beg more, or he’ll just pull out right when you’re about to cum on him and just slap your folds with his fingers as a way to make fun of you.

He’ll call you things like, “baby” “dollface” “darling” when he’s feeling passionate but oh boy if he’s feeling angry or he’s punishing you? Be prepared to be degraded all night.

There we go <3

Sorry if this is too long lmfao, I just think that Jeff is a really misunderstood piece of shit. I hope you’re having a great day and taking care of yourself, and I hope you enjoyed this matchup. :)

#creepypasta smut #creepypasta #matchup #creepypasta matchups #jeff the killer #anon ask #smut

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not-so-mundane-after-all · 3 years

Text

Fandom: DC Titans

Title: Not the Last but One of Many

Pairings/Relationships: Dickkory, Core Four

Summary: He can't think of it as their last kiss, because it isn't. It can't be. It's only one of many they have ahead of them - a whole lifetime they will spend together because he is not losing her today.

Kory is the only one who can finish Blackfire and put an end to this. But there's no way Dick is gonna let her turn this into a goodbye.

Kisses | 10. goodbye kisses and 27. desperate kisses - for candlelit

Also for my besties and Graysonfam royalty @wonderbatwayne and @undertheknightwing 👑👑

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

"Kory, no. You can't do this!"

"This is my only chance, Dick! Our only chance!"

Dick's grip on her arm is steel but his brown eyes stay soft as satin sheets when they bore into her green ones, pleading and begging her to listen. But once Kory sets her mind on something, there's no going back. That resistance, that perseverance is in her blood, a DNA stamp of the Royal Family of Tamaran. It's the strength she says she got from her mother, the spark her father once ignited in her, the Starfire of her people running through her veins. Unfortunately those same things are now posing a threat to her new home, a threat in the form of her own sister and one look at Kory's face tells Dick she's willing to go fight against her own flesh and blood, to kill and to die, so that home lives to see another day.

A battle like the Earth has never seen is raging around them, spaceships hang above their hands like boots of giants, ready to squash them like they are nothing but ants. Shots are being fired, laser bolts make the ground around them shake and explode, the noise of the chaos is piercing their brains. The rest of their team is out there somewhere, fighting tooth and nail with Tamaranean soldiers puppeteered but Blackfire, standing their ground, protecting their planet.

But here, in this little bubble of stillness, it's all quiet. It's just the four of them, standing in a tight circle, fighting a battle of their own. A battle with much higher stakes than the fate of the world. It's Dick pulling Kory closer and keeping her by his side when she's determined to tear herself away from him. It's Gar and Rachel, two shining stars in his dark sky, watching them with tight jaws and straight backs, holding their breaths waiting on how this is gonna end.

"Kory, please." Rachel pleads as she takes a step closer and puts her shaking hand on her shoulder. Stubborn teardrops hang on her long eyelashes, not willing to fall just yet. "Stay. We can fight her. Together, like we always do."

"You can't go alone." Gar joins her, pale as a sheet and trembling, but still keeping his chin up. "We can't lose you."

Dick can't help but smile at the strength his children display in that moment. The way they stand next to Kory, high and proud and stubborn as hell, it feels like a mirror image of her. Or maybe it's a mirror image of them both because overtime Gar and Rachel syphoned the best parts of both him and Kory and infused them into themselves. They're both scared, terrified of losing her just like he is but Rachel's eyes, despite being glazed with tears, burn with Dick's fire when she's staring into her mother's eyes and Gar keeps his head up with confidence and royal dignity, throwing Kory a challenge. You won't dare to leave us, his face seems to say.

And Kory sees it too, she sees it all, but this time it's not enough to convince her. Biting her trembling lip she reaches out to cup their cheeks, looking from one beloved face to the other.

"My angels," she sighs and her voice cracks from emotion. "You know as well as I do that this time it's not that easy. I'm the only one who can stop her. I'm the only one strong enough to put an end to this."

Gar's eyes close as his fingers curl around her wrist.

"But we can make you stronger."

"You already did." Kory smiles at him, brushing her thumb over his cheek. "You both are my force and I will use every ounce of it to keep you safe."

"There's no way to change your mind, isn't it?" Rachel more states a fact than asks, her voice brittle and so small Dick's heart shatters to milion sharp-edged pieces in his chest.

"I'm sorry, honey, but no." Kory shakes her head, then crushes them both to her, burying her face in their shoulders. Rachel and Gar cling to her, digging their fingers into the fabric of her suit. Kory's hands brush gently through their hair as she speaks. "I love you both. I've never loved anyone more in my entire life."

"Stop making it sound like a goodbye." Rachel chokes out into her neck, holding on tighter. Dick feels his throat closing, tears burning behind his eyes like acid.

"It's not, okay? It's a reminder." Kory insists and pulls back, her hands sliding to their shoulders and gripping tightly. And just like that the tears in her eyes dry out, the fear disappears from her face, replaced by pride and strength worthy of both a mother and a queen. "Now go out there, watch each other's backs and kick some ass."

The two young faces harden as well, abandoning their child-like features in a matter of seconds. The cold steel comes back to their eyes as they nod simultaneously.

"Yes, ma'am." They speak in unison and Kory smiles, pride written all over her face.

Then she turns to him, slides her hands into his and suddenly Dick is out of breath. She comes to stand so close their faces are mere inches apart and presses her forehead to his. He sucks in a sharp breath, feeling his heart racing in his chest.

"Fight, my love." she whispers, brushing her nose against his. Her breath is warm and familiar on his face and all Dick wants to do is pull her, closer, closer, closer and keep her there forever. "Fight for our home, for our kids. Fight for us, just like I will."

"Kory…"

"I have to go." She interrupts him and steps back. She straightens her back, lifts her chin up and just like that he finds himself in the presence of a warrior, a queen, a goddess. She towers over him, making him want to kneel in front of her. He would, of course he would, he would bow his head and pledge his allegiance to her with his dying breath.

"Take care of them." She says after sending one last glance to their children. He nods once, gulping down a lump in his throat.

"You know I will."

They hold each other's gaze for a moment longer, lingering to it like it's a lifeline keeping them alive, until Kory turns her back to him. But before she flies away Dick steps forward. There's one more thing he has to do, one thing he won't survive without, the world be damned. He grabs her arm and turns her back, then pulls her to him, curling his arms around her waist and presses his lips to hers.

It takes his breath away, drags him to his knees, sets his nerves ablaze as if she injected him with her fire. He's hungry and desperate, holding her tightly against his chest as he kisses her with fiery passion that makes his vision go red. Kory answers with the same heat and hunger, arching her back and running her fingers through his hair. It takes him back to their first night together, to the soft yellow glow of a bedside lamp and an old squeaky mattress of that motel bed under their tangled bodies. It takes him back to the starry night and clear sky over Gotham when he took her to the rooftop of the Wayne Manor and kissed her like his life depended on it, for the first time since the night after the asylum. He couldn't take it anymore, being with but still without her, having her so close yet out of reach.

Just like back then, Dick loses himself in the kiss, in her, trying to savour the taste, to remember it, stash it in a deposit box of his mind under lock and key. He can't think of it as their last kiss, because it isn't. It can't be. It's only one of many they have ahead of them - a whole lifetime they will spend together because he is not losing her today.

When they force themselves to break apart, they're both breathless. Kory leans her forehead against his again and smiles, grins like the sunshine she is.

"Come back to me, Kory." Dick whispers, squeezing her tighter. She nods, stroking her fingers over his cheek and jaw.

"I love you, Grayson."

And then she's gone between the clouds, only a trail of orange glow left behind her. He keeps his eyes on the sky, straining them to spot her, but there's no use, she must be too high up. He keeps observing though, even when two sets of arms circle around his waist and shoulders. He pulls his kids closer, letting Rachel curl herself to his side and pressing Gar's head to his shoulder. Their eyes are pointed at the clouds as well and together they stand there, three out of four, waiting.

Everyone must have sensed what is about to happen because the battlefield around them goes still and deadly silent. Fighting stops, there's no head that isn't turned towards the sky. The world pauses, holding its breath and Dick starts to pray.

Then the clouds start glowing, explosions of purple and green light against the red sunset. There's no way to hear what's happening, they can only observe as the two sisters take over the skyline. The two colors whirl around each other in a complicated, centuries old dance, tangled together one moment then breaking apart the next. Dick doesn't know where to look, his breath caught in his chest watching as the purple light and green light fly right at each other, coming closer and closer and closer. Rachel shivers against him and he presses her to him even tighter, already knowing what is gonna happen, just like she does.

Then the two lights clash in an explosion so bright they all need to look away to not have their eyes burned. It's like a supernova went off in front of them, turning into stardust.

And everything goes still.

One minute passes. Two. Three. Nothing is happening, neither of the sisters is coming down to announce their victory. The sky is clear and empty and the sight only makes Dick's insides twist into tight knots.

"What's going on?" Gar's confused voice echoes next to his ear.

"Dick, where is she?" Rachel asks him, staring at him with those baby blues like he has all the answers in the world.

He doesn't.

"C'mon, c'mon, c'mon." he whispers at the sky, wrapping his arms tighter around the kids. Rachel hides her face in the crook of his neck, he can feel her hot tears damping his skin. Gar rests his forehead on his shoulder and chokes on a sob. Dick can only hold them tight, kiss their heads and pray.

Pray and pray until his prayer is answered.

It's a blink of an eye. A twink of the first star in the night sky. And then she's there, falling down slowly with the grace of a goddess, embedded in golden light. Her eyes glow green, hair a red flame and she touches down to the ground with the lightness of a feather.

She smiles at him and that's all it takes for him to run to her. With Gar and Rachel on his heel he gets to her in a few quick strides and she falls right into his arms, wrapping hers around his neck and kissing him fiercely. Gar and Rachel tug themselves under their arms and they both pull them closer, locking them in the safety of their embrace.

Dick smiles, pressing his lips to Kory's forehead. Not the last kiss, but one of many.

#dc titans #dick grayson #rachel roth #garfield logan #kory anders #dickkory #titans #titans season 3 #dcu titans

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missmorosis · 3 years

Note

heyy I was wandering if I could have a valentine's day event for atla 👉👈

I go by she/her and I like all genders :)

I'm infp and my love language is words of affirmation.

In a partner I think I look for someone I feel safe to be myself around. Someone that I know is not gonna judge me and is loyal. I like the kind of people that can ground me to reality since I'm often a little out of touch with reality and miss out on the fun things but also understand when I need personal space. I'd also like someone who can make me laugh but can I also have serious conversations with :)

I am a head-in-the-clouds type of person. I'm usually very cheerful and bubbly, my friends call my 'sunshine' and 'morning child of the sun' because of my cheerful attitude but I'm not a morning person at all. I appreciate the little things like how green the trees look today and how the clouds look so nice and floofy. I get distracted by butterflies lol. I believe in a lot of conspiracy theories and things such as ghosts and cryptids and fairies. I'm terrible with human interaction but if I feel that I can be myself around you I will pour the depths of my soul to you. It goes from 0-100 in a minute. We go from I didn't know you yesterday to feeling like we've been friends for the past 5 years. I'm awkward and clumsy and I'll most likely infodump on you about things I like whether that be a king who died centuries ago or anything related to the disney parks (I've never been but I have a library of knowledge of things you can do and places to stay and eat etc including their history) I have an entire range of different topics I keep knowledge of in my brain.

My hobbies are singing, acting, I'm learning the guitar, and archery :D I also really love chess but no one plays with me :(

3 things I do on the daily are listen and sing show tunes (that's one, it happens at the same time), read, and consume chocolate in some shape or form whether that be chocolate milk or a cookie I must have some type of chocolate or I'll die.

I'll talk to you now :) how are you? I'm doing great :) What did you have for breakfast? I had some chocolate milk (hehe) and a fruit salad :) Did you drink any water today? You should. Go drink some now. Yeyy!!! Well, I hope you have a good day and sorry if this is too big, I tend to rant a lot heh 👉👈 anyway byeeee 💕💕✨✨😁😁

SADFLK YOU SOUND JUST LIKE ME 😭😭😭

i’m doing okay! i had two chocolate-covered biscuits today 😌 THEY WERE GREATTT!! i didnt drink too much water today, i’ll drink some right now!!

here’s your matchup...

ZUKO!

let’s be real, he needs someone like you in his life HAHSFDK- he’s totally in touch w/ reality YK THAT BEACH SCENE WHERE HE REMINDS EVERYONE THAT THEY SHOULD BE TRAINING INSTEAD OF HAVING FUN

how he asked you out

-> The two of you were in Zuko’s bedroom, lounging around together and casually chatting. He was on his chair, while you were sitting on his bed.

“You’ve never been to the Disney parks?” he casually asked, and you shook your head. “Huh, thought you have, with all the info about them you’re always bursting out with.” You laughed, and he gave a small smile.

“I wish I’ve been,” you said, sighing as you plopped back onto his bed. The sheets smelled like him, which made you happy.

“Well, I have something for you,” he said, his face reflecting mischief. You quirked an eyebrow at him, and he went back into his closet. He came back with an envelope in his hands, and you eagerly hopped to stand next to him.

You grabbed the envelope, and opened it hesitantly. Inside it were two tickets to Disneyland.

“Shut up, shut up!” you yelled, your eyes beaming. His face showed an equal amount of happiness, and you pulled him into a hug. “Thank you! So much!”

“No problem,” he said, laughing. “These tickets are for Valentine’s Day, if you wanna go with me? Or you can totally give the other ticket to someone els-” You scoffed, and he stopped talking.

“Of course I want to go with you, I can’t wait!” He smiled, and you pulled him into another hug.

how you spent the day together

-> “You ready?” Zuko’s voice asked, standing outside your door.

“Yup!” you said, dragging out your suitcase. You had two day’s worth of clothes and food, and you were ready to spend the day at Disneyland.

“Alright then,” he smiled as he grabbed your hand.

The flight to California was relatively chill; the two of you kept exchanging glances and bursting out into laughter at random moments. You and Zuko also talked the entire flight, joking around and chatting with one another. The other passengers definitely did not like it, but it made your heart swell.

Once you got there, you raced to every single ride you possibly could, grabbing Zuko’s arm and dragging him around. He laughed as you burst out with fun facts about everything you saw, and you smiled.

The night arrived faster than it should have; it seemed like the entire day went by in five minutes. Zuko looked at you with a large grin on his face.

“Did you have fun?” His eyes seemed to sparkle in the night, and your heart skipped a beat.

“Definitely,” you said, giving him a kiss on the lips.

ugh disneyland IS THE BEST AND I WISH I COULD TAKE YOU BABE <33

if you ever go, THE DOLE WHIP THEY HAVE IS BOMB AND I HIGHLY RECOMMEND!! the rides there are super fun too omg~ they have both rollercoasters and small, relaxing rides, if high-speed isn’t your thing :)) peter pan & the small world ride are small and slow, but UGH IT’S STILL AMAZING CUZ OF ALL THE SET DESIGN AND EVERYTHING AKLSDFLJSDF

they also have great shows and cast!!

idk idk when i was younger i was always scared of those big dolls

THESE FREAKED ME OUT SO BAD?? LIKE I WOULD BREAK DOWN AND SOB OMG-

but other than that LMAOOO- everything’s great hehe

ANYWAYS I HOPE YOU ENJOYED <33

#morosis's valentine's day event 💖#morosis matchups #zuko x reader #zuko fluff #atla #atla x reader #atla fluff

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rpmemesbyarat · 3 years

Conversation

RP meme from "Jungle 2 Jungle"

Hey, bonehead, moron!

Keep your pencil to yourself!

Get out of my way.

You call that a hunch?

I call that an opportunity.

You're not still leaving, after what you did in there?

You give me that same patronizing little speech every time you play one of your stupid hunches.

I am outrageously pleased to meet with you.

He who knows what a woman wants, knows everything, but not even God knows that.

You look different.

I have a boat waiting.

I don't want any money.

Hey, stop! You can't leave me here!

What you're doing is very unprofessional!

Come back here!

I'm gonna need all these clothes back, right where they came from, all right?

Bring on the bachelors.

There's something that you don't know.

I figured you'd be happier that way.

You thought this would make me happy?

How long before you noticed I was gone?

Why didn't you talk to me?

Excuse me. The real world calls.

Look, I was right. I was right!

Coffee has gone crazy.

I realized that I had lost you somehow.

God, it's good to be good!

This is nuts. This is nuts.

This is unbelievable.

This is unforgivable!

It's a territorial thing.

No! Don't touch that!

You wouldn't happen to have a place where I could stick that, would you?

Talk about your wind instruments.

I gotta admit, this isn't easy for me.

I don't have any regrets.

Well, I have regrets.

Maybe I can teach him about commodities.

Baboon! Baboon!

Parasite.

Cut, infection, death !

So, you understood everything I said last night.

These shoes cost me $500.

Scared of snake?

I do not eat snake.

I have a whole 'nother life where I live.

I'm a trader. That's what I do, okay?

Don't move! There's a giant spider on you!

I don't want to hurt you, but I will.

I will crush you like---a bug!

This place is a nightmare!

The hair on your chest reminds them of a monkey.

Here, if you make a promise, you keep it.

Get on. It's just a moving sidewalk.

You do have a reason, right?

Oh, God, I'm dead !

Where are all the animals?

Just wait it out. Something will happen.

You can't always depend on a natural disaster.

We can hope for an assassination.

Behave yourselves here!

Something better happen fast, or I'm gonna throw your butts out the window!

What do you hotshots think about when you make these deals?

I'll shout, I'll yell, I'll scream as much as I want.

Look up! It's an alien circle with Mickey Rourke's picture in it.

Catch the damn spider, will you, please?

Wow! Nice shot!

I missed you. You never called me.

Just act natural.

So, did you miss me, darling?

There's a Fashion Channel?

So, what did you bring me?

You brought back a child.

This is my female.

Is there anything special you like to eat?

Great earrings.

Before you pee, you lift the seat. After you pee, you put the seat back down.

I'm gonna die up here.

Don't you ever, ever, ever do that to me again!

When I tell you to do something, I mean it. Do you understand me?

I was just worried about you out there. I really was. All right?

When I saw the shoulders on this gown, I plotzed.

A little champagne?

What is taking so long with the food?

I don't eat meat, I don't eat dairy or nightshade vegetables, and, of course, I don't touch preservatives.

We eat cat.

We are not going to eat the cat.

You had no right to change the rules.

Are you saying that I knew that I had a child?

Well, if I had a child, I certainly would have known.

So now you're saying that you having a child is my fault?

This is cereal. It's just corn, brown sugar, yellow #5 and zinc oxide? They've added a sunblock to it.

I'd like to be around you, but, but I'm obligated to go.

You won't shoot any more animals?

You're probably in the bathroom, making yourself look beautiful.

You can never have enough pictures of your kids.

On top of everything else, didn't I tell you to wait in the apartment?

I've got a life here. I can't change everything just because you showed up.

Get out of the street! Come on!

This is a dangerous jungle.

No, you're not a man.

You are an adolescent.

You are free to do whatever you want.

There are no guarantees.

This is speculation.

When can we expect payment?

Now we're laundering money for the Russian Mafia?

You cannot walk away on this, please.

Tastes like lizard guts.

I haven't danced like that since I was a little kid.

I've been in this bathroom for hours!

Stay away from the door!

I'm gonna put it in the wastebasket.

It's still moving.

Put the thing back in its box.

It's as big as an ox!

A cat is a pet!

How do you know it hasn't already laid eggs in the apartment?

What if they miss one and it crawls into my ear while I'm sleeping and lays its eggs in my brain?

This is serious! We have to move!

You're blowing this out of proportion.

Look, if something dramatic has happened, it should be on film.

I look at something and see what it can be and who can wear it.

She doesn't like me.

It's not you at all. It's me.

Well, when you pick one to love, it's very different.

lt's a poecilia latipinna. They're from the Amazon.

You're walking around New York City with a million dollars in a suitcase?

Don't tell me. You're leaving.

You are the most important thing in the world to me, except for this other thing I gotta do now.

This better be an emergency.

Try everything once, I always say.

We'll manage to survive this, okay?

Beluga. Best caviar in whole world.

Believe me, shrewdness is not in the picture.

I told you. Time heals everything.

And this is supposed to be a bribe?

Now where is this champagne?

You're so feisty today.

What do you say we take the champagne and drink it in the bedroom?

I think what we have here is an intercultural misunderstanding.

You just downed $10,000 worth of sushi.

You started a wildfire in my yard.

Maybe you're overreacting?

I still don't understand the problem.

You have nothing to be upset about.

That's a pain that's here to stay.

Screaming's no way to deal with a child.

I'm a parent, therefore, I'm an idiot.

Anybody can land on their feet.

Don't make me lose temper.

Don't move! The spider could kill you.

Oh, that's gotta hurt.

I'm starting to really like that spider.

I have many enemies but none like that spider.

What do you say you and I get the hell outta here?

You know my back affects my work.

Money is honey.

Boys, we're gonna clean up.

Now that's a very big bug.

You're a professional.

#rp meme #rp memes #rp sta #roleplay meme #roleplay starters #roleplay memes #jungle 2 jungle

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spidernerdsblog · 4 years

Text

I forgot that you existed : Chapter one

A/N: okay chapter one is here going a little slow with the storyline wanted to add a little bit of details to the lives of the characters. I can guarantee in next chapter our hero will be in full form and not just in flashbacks. Hope you like it. Feedbacks and suggestions are always welcome.

Pairing : Tom Holland × Singer reader

Summary: It's been more than five years since you and Tom have gone their own ways after a heartbreaking breakup which had left both of you shattered. Both of you thought that you were finally over with each other and were happy in your respective lives until you meet again at a reunion trip planned by your best friend and you realise you are still not done with each other.

Warnings: none, flashbacks.

Mini playlist: love story, ME! By Taylor Swift

We were both young when I first saw you

I close my eyes, and the flashback starts

I'm standing there

On a balcony in summer air

Sounds of giggles and laughter " No! she is my best friend" Harrison exclaimed pulling you by grabbing your left hand towards him "No she is my best friend!" Tom said, pulling your right hand. You couldn't stop giggling as you were stuck between a tug of war between your two best friends who stated that you can only be best friend to any one of them not both. You were only 5 years old then Tom & Harrison both 3 years older than you but you loved hanging out with them.

Your parents shifted from LA to London for their work and coincidentally your house was in the same neighborhood as were of the boys. You all became friends through your mothers when they used to take you to the park when you were toddlers. You were the only girl of the whole boys gang consisting of Tom, Harrison, Harry and Sam and they were very protective about you. You used to boss them around.

As Haz and Tom were quarrelling over whose best friend you were in the backyard of the Holland's house. Tom out of nowhere declared "if it's that so Y/N is my girlfriend" and gave a gentle peck on your lips, you stood there in shock and soon you started blushing as you covered your face with your hands and ran inside to your mother who was chatting with Nikki.

You went up to your mom and asked innocently "Mom, Tom said that I'm his girlfriend and gave me a kissy like you give me every night before bed. Is he no more my best friend ?" Both the mothers started laughing as Nikki spoke “no peanut he will always be your best friend and if you love bugs stay like this forever maybe he can be your husband too."

You scrunched your face and said "eww!! I will not marry him"

“why is that so? " your mother asked laughing

"he always steals my chocolates" you said innocently “no I don't!! Tom said from behind as he entered the house with Haz, “yes you did yesterday only you took it from my bag at school” both of you now started arguing. Nikki and your mom burst into laughter after hearing it. That was the beginning of your love story.

Romeo, take me somewhere we can be alone

I'll be waiting, all there's left to do is run

You'll be the prince and I'll be the princess

It's a love story baby just say "Yes"

.........................................................

You loved to listen to songs as it helps to release your stress and this song of yours was very dear to you as it reminded you of some sweet memories. You were scrolling through the photographs that you had taken back when you were living in London together with the boys as you thought about that whole incident, your actual first kiss, you smiled and shook your head at the realization that you both had disappointed your mothers.

You finally dialled Harrison's number he picked up instantly

"Hey Y/N!"

"Hello.. this is 911 what is your emergency?" You chuckled

"You will never change will ya?"

"That was the plan actually to never change"

"Talking to you after a long time man missed your voice so much"

"Me too Haz.. So how's everything going there?"

"Yeah everything is fine here just wrapped up my new film."

"Great!! How are the boys, Nikki and Dom?"

"They are all fine. Harry is busy with his new film's plot, Sam as usual experimenting with new dishes."

"An.. and how's he?" You hesitatedly asked

"He's good too wrapped up Avengers 5 will be returning home tomorrow.

By the way congratulations for the success of your new album to be honest it's a badass album the lyrics are dope."

You giggled.. "Thanks Haz"

"So now are you free or still have any upcoming projects?"

"I can never be free Haz I m always working, always thinking of lyrics for my next song. Leave all that, what was the emergency that you said to call so urgently?"

"Ummm.. Y/N I want something from you."

"Anything for you Haz"

"You have to promise me first Y/N that whatever I say you have to say yes"

"When have I ever said you no anyways just tell me"

"No! Y/N first promise me"

"Uggh Okay Haz I promise now spit it out. Sometimes you really act childish." you rolled your eyes.

"I want you to come back home I mean back here at London I have planned a 10 days trip to Cornwall at my beach house which we all used to go every summer when we were kids it's a sort of reunion for the whole gang I have invited Z and Jacob too"

"Haz you know I only go on Christmas every year to spend time with you guys because that is when I m free. And I'm pretty busy this month. I have a recording to be done next week for my upcoming single."

"Y/N you promised you will not refuse me. I just want a little time from your busy life.”

"But Haz…"

"And also I'm gonna celebrate my 30th birthday there, your man is getting old love."

"Umm... I don't know what to say Haz I'm confused"

"If you're thinking about him I can assure you there will be no problem besides he is not single anymore so why worry?"

That is the problem Haz you said in your mind.

"Umm okay I'll give it a thought and let you know after confirming the availability of dates." You ended the call and fell back on your bed, your hands and legs spreading across the bed like a starfish. You face palmed and groaned.

You went into a deep thought, your brain still processing the whole conversation you had with Harrison. After a few minutes you heard your phone buzzing and you smiled as you looked to see who was calling. It was Zendaya, face timing you. You had seriously wished to talk to someone right now. You have very few close friends in the industry and Zendaya was one of them. You collaborated with her for your bad blood music video and you guys clicked instantly from that day you became really close. She was your 3am BFF and you both knew each other's darkest secrets. You picked up the call.

"So Haz called you up didn't he?"

"Bingo!! So what are you thinking?" Zendaya laughed

"I don't know Z. I just feel scared. I know I have met him a couple of times during my Christmas visits after everything happened but that was just a one day thing and this whole 10 day trip is freaking me out. I also don't want to disappoint Haz. I missed all of his birthdays for the past few years on purpose just to avoid Tom."

" You are just over thinking babe everything will be fine and I will be there to cheer up your emotional ass. Besides as much as I know Tom is very chilled out he will not bother you."

" I don't think so. He has a very cold attitude towards me even now whenever I go back home. "

After you moved to NY you almost begged your parents to move here and stay with you but they were adamant of staying in London so once in a year you used to visit your family and friends during Christmas. The Christmas Dinner was always hosted by the Holland's after your break up you always panicked to go to their house. The first year when you went. The boys, Nikki, Dom welcomed you as if nothing had happened; they hugged you with joy. But when you went to give Tom a hug he just backed off and out of formality gave you a shoulder hug and you got your hint to stay away. He even brought his new girlfriend for the dinner which you thought he did on purpose to make you jealous or hurt you. And you were actually hurt at the thought that he really moved on so quickly. So you avoided family gatherings to prevent such awkward situations.

"Babe your life doesn’t revolve around Tom he was a part of your life which is over. Start living your life. And we are in our early 30’s and still single don’t wanna die like that do you ??. Even if you want you can have your sweet little revenge by showing off that hot body on the beach and show that asshole what he missed." Z smirked.

You quirked your eyebrows “So you're telling me to be a bitchy ex who doesn’t want to see her ex boyfriend happy”

" Nooo!!! I didn’t mean that just show him how happy you are, that you are one of a kind, he will never find anyone like you in his life. We are gonna have a blast honey and you are coming so start packing."

You had to finally give in with a deep sigh you said .."okay Z I ll go but if I jump off the cliff after all the mental stress I'm going to get in those 10 days you and Haz will be responsible for it." you laughed.

"Oh we won't want that. Besides you have handled more stressful moments than this you will be fine dramaqueen." Zendaya said.

You talked to Alex about the whole trip to sort out the dates. He was a little sceptical at first about the whole reunion with ex trip , but he believed in you and gave you a nod for the trip. You informed the good news to Haz of your approval to the whole trip. Before you could leave for your unplanned vacation you had to finish recording and shooting for your new upcoming single featuring Breidon Urie.

"I promise that you'll never find another like me

I know that I'm a handful, baby, uh

I know I never think before I jump

And you're the kind of guy the ladies want

(And there's a lot of cool chicks out there)

I know that I went psycho on the phone

I never leave well enough alone

And trouble's gonna follow where I go

(And there's a lot of cool chicks out there)

But one of these things is not like the others

Like a rainbow with all of the colors

Baby doll, when it comes to a lover

I promise that you'll never find another like

Me-e-e, ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh

I'm the only one of me

Baby, that's the fun of me

Eeh-eeh-eeh, ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh

You're the only one of you

Baby, that's the fun of you

And I promise that nobody's gonna love you like me-e-e"..............

The song was soon officially released by the music company and the audience loved it and your work was done for the moment and now you could focus on the trip. All of a sudden you were really feeling excited about the whole thing. You and Z were constantly texting each other to plan about the journey.

The day arrived and you met Z at the airport. "So ready for the battle?" she chuckled. You rolled your eyes and laughed "going on a battle would have been much easier compared to this I guess" but in your mind you were confident. Yes you had finally decided that you're ready to face Tom Holland to show him that you have also moved on. And to show him that he'll never find another like you.

The nine hour flight was uneventful as both you and Z slept most of the time which proved that you both were in dire need of a vacation away from your hectic glamorous lives.

It was around 5 ‘o’ clock in the morning in London when your plane landed. Both of you collected your check in luggages. Check out was hassle free as it was early morning with few people around and nobody recognised you as both of you were in your hoodies. As you came out of the exit door you started to look amongst the crowd and finally you saw those familiar icy blue eyes approaching towards you.

“Ah!! Finally the star arrived” Harrison hugged you tight

“And all credit goes to you Z because our star has stopped listening to her best friend may be got someone else to replace me” he hugged zendaya and started laughing

“getting rid of you has been one of the failures of my life" you pouted

"Ouch!" Harrison dramatically placed his hands on his chest as if hurt.

"No one can ever replace you from my life you idiot" you lightly punched his arm.

Harrison chuckled and said with a fake French accent "I m your chauffeur for the day, madame your car awaits at the parking lot."

After you three put all your luggages in the car. Z and you sat at the back seat and Harrison sat on the driver's seat as he started the car. It was an approximate four hour ride to his beach house.

" You know Haz I really missed the summer in London so glad I said yes to your plan."

"The only thing I liked about London when I came for Spiderman:FFH shoot is the Harry Potter museum" Zendaya declared

You noticed Harrison looked a little off today so you asked "you look a little bit stressed out Haz what's the matter bud?"

"How do you read my mind so easily?" Harrison sighed.

"I'm your best friend dumbo now tell me what is the thing that is bothering you so much?" you said with concern in your voice.

"Okay I need to say you something, just don't be mad Tom will be bringing his fiancee too at the beach house. But don't worry everything will be fine I promise."

Your face went expression less as you looked at Harrison then to Zendaya. You were starting to panic from inside. You let out a sigh and rolled your eyes as you leaned on Zendaya's shoulder. She rubbed your shoulder to comfort you as you thought in your mind "what a great start to this cursed trip."

..................................................................................

Taglists:If you want to be added send in an ask i will be happy to add you.

@sophs-library

#tom holland #tom holland series #tom holland × reader #tom holland imagines #haz osterfield #zendaya #taylor swift #tom holland fluff

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angstyaches · 3 years

Note

I'm literally gonna scream this is sooo cool - also shayne would show up in his docs 100% but he'd rock the look so there is that lmao

would you write a drabble with that scenario maybe?? rin in that dress has to become reality aaaah

-em

This was after I made a post about an idea I had, for Charlie and Shayne to match their ties to Rin’s dress so she wouldn’t feel like she was alone.

It’s not exactly a drabble and there may end up being a part two; but here it is! In my country, we have a party called a debs instead of prom, but for StW, I’m just going to call it their grad ball.

___

Rin woke with a heavy ache in her gut that she couldn’t quite place straight away. There was none of the buzzing electricity in her veins like when she woke up nervous before an exam, so it couldn’t be that.

Through the heavy fog of sleep, she reached out to slap the snooze option on her phone as it buzzed, and shoved it further away on her bedside locker.

There was movement in the house; by now, the kitchen was probably smelling like coffee and toast, her mother would have opened all the curtains, and her father would be playing the news on the vintage-style radio they’d gotten him last Christmas.

The day would be in full swing by now.

Rin grunted and tugged the duvet up over her head, pulling her knees closer to her chest, the swell of fear rising up in her belly with every passing second.

Because this wasn’t a normal day.

It was the day of the grad ball.

Jeez, Rin thought to herself as she felt how hard her heart was beating, how much of a wreck am I going to be on my freaking wedding day? The thought made the dread so much worse that she had to quickly shake it out of her head. The comparison didn’t seem to make today any easier to face into, however.

The knock at her door made her jump, and the fright made any chance of an extra few minutes of sleep slip away.

“You up, love?” Claire called through the door. “We should be at Caitlin’s by ten.”

Rin groaned and lifted her head. “I thought the appointment was at eleven?”

“It is, but she’s going to be slammed today! If we’re late, we’re out.”

And god forbid I went to the ball without any bobby pins or glitter spray in my hair, Rin thought, heavily throwing back the duvet. It was already weighing enough on her mother that she was going to the ball without a date. She was the only one in her friend group who didn’t have a boyfriend, aside from Katie, and even Katie had roped one of the hurling team guys into being her date. Rin had opted to show up alone rather than force herself to link up with someone for the entire night; however, now that the day had come, she was starting to second-guess herself.

Just stop thinking about it, she told herself. You’re gonna psyche yourself out.

She felt her way around her room on muscle memory alone, not wanting to engage her brain in any more thought until she absolutely had to. She wrestled herself into a pair of black leggings and a striped jump with a wide neckline, and stopped by her mirror.

She was reaching for her eyeliner before she remembered she would be getting her makeup done professionally after she’d had her hair done, which made her want to curl up and die.

Leaving the eyeliner pen where it was, Rin forced a smile in the mirror and headed downstairs.

“Morning, Dad,” she mumbled as she went into the kitchen.

“Good morning! Nutella or jam today?” Drew asked, plating up two slices of toast that had just popped up.

Rin’s throat and stomach clenched in unison at the thought of how either of the options would taste. Still, she’d need some kind of energy boost to get her through the afternoon.

“I’m not hungry, Dad,” she said, hopefully quickly enough that he wouldn’t have time to notice anything was wrong. “Can I take some coffee though?”

“’Course. Milk’s still in the fridge.”

Rin nodded and turned to fetch it.

“I’ll put it in a travel cup for you,” Drew added with a grin as he reached for the pot. “Your mam’s like a headless chicken this morning, so I don’t know if you’ll have time to drink it before she’s bundling you into the car.”

By the time Rin had carried the milk carton to the countertop, there was a jingling of keys in the hallway, and Claire’s voice calling out;

“Are you right, love?”

Drew’s grin deepened as he handed over the Thermos cup to Rin. “What’d I say?”

“Coming, Mam,” Rin called back, making a face at her dad and mouthing Kill me. The heavy sensation in the pit of her stomach came back with a vengeance as she grabbed her jacket from the front hall. It was going to be a long damn day.

Rin couldn’t decide which was more overpowering; the lingering fog of hairspray that just didn’t seem to leave the circumference of her skull, or the smell of her mother’s perfume. If her mood had been just the slightest bit worse, she might have snapped and demanded to know who on earth put on perfume for a photograph; the lipstick and eyeliner that Claire had slapped on could be understood, but perfume?

“Smile, Rin,” Drew chuckled from behind the chunky camera. “Let’s see those teeth. Or were those four years of orthodontist visits just for fun?”

Rin sighed and melted into a smile, tilting her head a little closer to Claire’s as the camera clicked a flashed. She loved her parents, she really did; she just sometimes wished they weren’t so damn conventional.

“We done?” she asked.

“Done,” Drew said.

Rin grunted and let her posture fall a little slack. The damn shoes were already killing her, and if she hadn’t been wearing mostly black, she’d have been worried about pit stains. She could practically feel the foundation melting off of her face as her mother leaned in for one last hug before she had to run.

“Have fun, love,” Claire instructed, scooping her work bag up from the hallway floor. “I can’t wait to hear all about it tomorrow.”

Rin nodded. “Have a good night at work.”

Claire blew a kiss as she was going out the door. Rin glanced through to the kitchen, to where Drew was already engrossed in reviewing the pictures he’d taken on the camera’s little screen. The clock on the wall behind him told her that she had about fifteen minutes before she had to leave.

Her knees suddenly felt weak, and her stomach – not that it hadn’t been bothering her all day – lurched dangerously close to her throat. All she’d had that day was a toasted cheese sandwich and the latte, when Claire had dragged her to a little café once her hair and make-up appointments were finished with. She could suddenly taste the slightly charred crusts of the bread, and the rich, frothy coffee burned deep in her chest.

She stole one last glance to see that her father was still preoccupied before letting herself bring a hand to her mouth. Breathe, she told herself, drawing air in through her nose even though it was still somehow thick with hairspray. The breath seemed to catch in her throat, and the pain in her stomach seemed to drop lower and rise higher all at once.

Rin’s knees had all but buckled by the time she’d kicked off the lacey heeled shoes. The layers of black and pink tulle in her dress rustled as she turned and hurried up the stairs, feet thumping lightly in their delicate, sheer black tights.

The first retch caught her by surprise, before she’d made it to the toilet. She clapped her other hand to her mouth, hoping to create a vacuum and prevent anything from dripping down onto her dress. The sick was hot, and with nowhere else to go, she felt it smear against her lips and the end of her nose.

The sensation and the smell were enough to draw out another deep heave, accompanied by a belch this time. Luckily, she’d just about made it to the toilet, so she let herself double over and yanked her hands away with a quick prayer that her dress was out of the splash zone.

Rin coughed and let another wave of puke stream into the toilet, and then she clenched her teeth. She reached for the toilet paper and got her hands as clean as she could before taking off her glasses and gathering up the tulle skirts. She held the fabric in as tight a knot as she could. Her belly ached and gurgled as it waited for her to get into position again. As it shot another reminder of her lunch into her mouth, Rin couldn’t help but feel relieved that she’d decided on having her hair put into an updo; things would have been ten times worse if she’d also been attempting to keep hair out of her face too.

“Shit,” she whimpered to herself as she managed to straighten up. She was a little dizzy, but most of the pain in her belly seemed to ease off. She flushed the toilet and washed her hands and inspected herself for mess. All that was out of place was some ruined foundation around her mouth, and a little leakage in her eyeliner. Luckily the lash glue had stayed in place when her eyes had started watering.

She brushed her teeth, raced to her bedroom, and touched her makeup up as best she could with her own eyeliner and a powder foundation she hadn’t used in months. Her eyes were still a little bloodshot, but at least she had a little longer to recover before she got to the venue and had to smile for more photographs.

“Docs.”

When Shayne had seen Charlie emerge from the passenger side of Ingrid’s car, he’d looked down, starting to kick softly at the kerb. There was a feeling in his stomach he couldn’t put words to, and he had to focus carefully on his breathing. That was when he’d heard Charlie’s voice, and his head had snapped up.

Charlie’s hair was freshly cut and gelled perfectly in place, and his suit jacket and pants almost matched the deep navy of the night sky. He’d stopped a few metres away, lingering on the path, looking a bit like he’d just seen a plague of locusts heading their way.

“You wore your Docs?”

Shayne glanced down at his feet. It hadn’t occurred to him to get new shoes to go with the simple black suit that Nancy had bought for him. He now realised he should have at least taken out the rainbow laces in the right boot and put the original black ones in for the night, but it was too late for that now.

He felt heat gather in his cheeks as he cleared his throat. “You look nice enough for both of us, Charlie.”

“I never said you didn’t -” Charlie blinked as he fought back a smile, the slightest hint of a blush crossing his cheeks too. “Thanks. I - I’m glad you remembered the tie.”

“’Course I remembered the tie,” Shayne mumbled, shoving his hands in his pockets and feeling like a teenager getting scolded. “You only mentioned it about sixty times and threatened to cut my head off.”

“I would never.” Charlie put a hand on the back of Shayne’s head, pulling it closer to he could kiss his forehead. “I like this head too much.”

Shayne’s stomach did a little flip. He leaned into the kiss, resting his forehead on Charlie’s shoulder as soon as he was allowed. “I’m so nervous.”

“That’s okay,” Charlie sighed. “You should have felt how fast my heart was pounding when I first saw you.”

Drew looked up from sweeping the kitchen floor, laying the brush against the countertop, as Rin walked towards the kitchen, carrying her shoes with her fingers looped through the backs of them. She stood in the doorway to the front hall, one hand on the doorframe, the other smoothing down the side of her dress.

He frowned as he noticed her expression. He didn’t take his eyes off her as he pulled out a kitchen chair, desperately trying to deduce if she was paler than usual under all that makeup.

“Dad, I...” Rin gave a slight shake of her head, lifting a hand to cover her mouth. “I don’t feel right.”

“Here, come and sit down. Do you want some water?”

Rin nodded as she scooped as much fabric into her lap as she could, and sat down sideways at the table. She rubbed at the side of her head, hoping at the last second that she wasn’t pulling her hair loose from its pins and spray.

Her stomach had mostly calmed, at least, but the sense of impending doom hadn’t been lifted. She’d made the mistake of checking her phone before coming back downstairs, and had been met with pictures of Katie and Ashley taking selfies with their dates, looking like movie stars getting ready for the red carpet. And here she was, feeling queasy and pathetic and lonely.

“There you go, love,” Drew said evenly as he laid a glass of water close to her elbow. He pulled out a chair for himself so he could sit at an angle to her front, folding his hands awkwardly across his knees. “Is there anything I can do for you?”

Not unless you can cancel out the last year of my life, or better yet the last eight years, so that I was never friends with Katie, or the rest of them, and maybe make it so that I was home-schooled instead, so I don’t have to go to this stupid tradition on my own and be embarrassed and awkward and –

Rin folded her arms around her waist and held back a sob. “No, Dad, it’s – it’s okay, I just…”

“Just what, love?”

Rin covered her mouth and shook her head. The words on her tongue were too strong, and she could already feel them echo down through the years of the rest of her life. “I don’t – I don’t want to go.”

Drew shifted his weight. “Well, why don’t we take a few minutes, and really think about this, and if that’s still what you want –”

“I don’t want a few minutes,” Rin said quickly, knowing she’d change her mind if she was given the chance to think too much. “I really don’t want to go, Dad. Tonight’s supposed to be about celebrating with your friends, and I don’t have... I don’t have those. If I go, I’m just going to have to hear them all laughing, and having a great time, and –”

Rin’s spiralling train of thought was cut short by a knock on the front door, which was in clear view of where she was sat. She frowned as she saw movement either side of the fogged glass surrounding the door, and she glanced at her dad, wondering why he hadn’t gotten up to see who was there.

Instead of that, he had taken on a shy smile.

“You might want to answer that, love.”

Rin blinked harshly, reaching up under the rims of her glasses in case she’d let any tears slip out while she’d been panicking. Her ankles wobbled slightly as she made her way to the door, hands trembling as she opened it.

The first thing she saw was the corsage being held out to her. A pale lily on a band on pearl-esque beads. Rin looked up in shock at Charlie’s face, which gave off an uncharacteristically shy grin.

“Evening, my lady,” he said.

“Ch-Charlie Bear?” Rin’s jaw fell open as he took her hand. No, it wasn’t him taking her hand, it was Shayne. She looked at him too, thinking surely, she must have hit her head or dehydrated or something.

As Shayne lifted her arm, Charlie slipped the corsage onto her wrist. As soon as it was in place, Rin pressed both hands to her face, quickly removing her glasses so she could dab at the fresh wave of tears.

“Thank – thank you, it’s – it’s lovely, it –”

“Hey – oh no, Rin,” Charlie cooed, gently easing her hands down from her face. “You’re going to smudge your makeup –”

“What’re – what’re you two even doing here?” Rin half-laughed, half-sobbed, finally feeling as though she could use her vocal cords.

She slipped her glasses back on, the strangled sounds quickly dissolving into giggles as she took in the sight of them both – Shayne in black and Charlie in deep blue – standing on her doorstep. She managed to focus on the one thing they had matching, which were the widely-cut, silky ties in a shade of pale-yet-vibrant pink.

“Why are – oh my god, do both your ties match my dress?”

Charlie’s grin only deepened as Rin reached out to playfully slap him on the arm. When she looked at Shayne, she couldn’t bring herself to even pretend to hit him, so instead she threw her arms around his neck. He tensed a little, and she felt him draw a sharp breath, so she didn’t hold onto him for too long.

“Oh my god, you two,” she gasped as she stepped back, fanning her eyes and hoping somehow that would dry up the tears that kept seeming to spring up. “You’re two absolute babes, you know that?”

“Two Prince Charmings, huh?” Drew laughed, rocking up behind Rin and planting a hand on her shoulder. “Both here to take Rinderella to the ball.”

Shayne made a sound that might have been a nervous laugh if he’d let it develop, but he quickly covered his mouth to stop it as Charlie and Rin both threw him curious looks.

“Oh my god, the ties,” Rin whimpered as she looked at the pink ties yet again. She jabbed Charlie in the arm. “No wonder you were showing so much interest in what my dress looked like.”

“How are you feeling, love?” Drew asked sincerely. He showed her that he’d taken her clutch bag from the hallway, so she wouldn’t have to go look for anything before she had to leave. Rin took it gratefully and turned back to kiss her dad on the cheek.

Rin looked at the two boys and sniffled. “I’m good, I – I’m good to go.”

#swallow the world #sickfic #emeto sickfic #emeto #Rin #Charlie #Shayne #female sickfic #sick girls

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jeagerism · 4 years

Text

wish you were here

✒ word count : 4.2k

✒ characters : park jimin x reader

✒ warnings : sadness, like hella sadness im sorry, break up!au, reader just misses him lots, small amounts of fluff, cursing, seeing the person you love with someone new, first dates, moving on, crying

✒ summary : You're sitting in your bathtub eating marshmallows at 3 in the morning three weeks after the break up, and you're doing fine, you really are. But then, all of a sudden, you're crying and realising how much you miss him.

✒ author's note : as i wrote more and more i was like...hmmm. jimin. here is the completed fic im scared to post this didusissj but if i don't i might die so. hope u guys like dis one xoxo it's my first jimin imagine pls do not hurt me im trying :o

It's 6 p.m. on a Saturday when it happens.

The curtains are open slightly in the living room, rays of golden sunlight reaching just past where your feet rest on the couch. You're typing up an essay when Jimin slips through the door, toeing his shoes off. Five-fifty, just like clockwork. The coat he wears everyday goes on the same hook - third from the left. He shuffles over to the couch and presses his lips to the crown of your head, just like always.

It's easy to fall into routine.

Another episode of Sex Education plays in the background, long forgotten after an hour of staring at the same screen. You're pretty sure your brain is fried. But you'd made a promise to yourself that you'd finish this essay today, so you make due.

"Hey." The way your lips stretch into a smile is hard to control, even more so when he copies your actions. He falls onto the couch beside you, leaning into the cushions with a hum. He smells like the strawberries and honey body wash in the bathroom.

You let your eyes study him for a few seconds, then go back to typing, and it's quiet, just like always. It feels normal. Nothing's different.

Until it is.

"I think we should break up."

Of the five years you've known Jimin, you've been through a lot. And while most of it had been dealing with things much bigger than yourselves, bigger than romance and first kisses, you'd had your fair share of relationship issues.

But things were good. He would come home every day, smiling, press that same kiss to your forehead. Sit right beside you, leaning into your side, his warmth seeping into you. Sometimes he'd play with your fingers, a thing that kept him occupied and calm. You knew Jimin, you knew all his habits, what made him tick, how he acted when he was sad, or happy, or angry.

"Y/N?"

"I can't", you breathe out, so softly it's barely audible. And you wonder if he can even hear you. If he can hear the way you're trying to gather up everything you're feeling right now and trying to shove it down, down, down. "I don't understand? I need, can you-"

And as much as you know Jimin, he knows you all the same. He knows you're panicking, and normally, he'd grab your hands and help you breathe. In for three, out for three. In for three out for three. He doesn't do that this time. He doesn't even look at you.

"I'm just not...happy. I'm not happy and I don't think I make you happy anymore, either."

But you do. He does, Jimin makes you so happy that sometimes you forget how to breathe. He makes you so happy that you love everything about him, even the things that drive you insane sometimes. So happy that you pick up the clothes he leaves on the floor after his shower, or place his shoes back neatly, or cook his favorite food for him whenever he asks.

These are the things you want to tell him. You want to tell him it all and more, but the only thing that comes out is :

"Okay."

Because what else can you say? He's just said that he's not happy with you anymore, and he's so close but farther away than ever, and he's not even looking at you.

In for three, out for three. But you still can't breathe. And this time, as his words fall on near deaf ears - something about "my stuff" and "sometime later" and "you stay, I'll go" - and he slips his shoes and coat back on, and it's quiet, it's not because you're happy.

You can't breathe because it hurts. You're not sure of how long you stay on the couch, computer running hot on your lap, a "Are you still watching" message on the tv. But when you finally look up, it's dark.

And you take a breath. Dragging yourself to Jimin and your bedroom - your bedroom - takes more of an effort than you'll admit, but you get there. The pillow is cool against your burning cheek. You allow your eyes to close tight, because his side of the bed is never this cold.

All you can do is breathe. In for three, out for three. Something you'd learned from him, with him.

It's all you can do to keep yourself from breaking.

He takes you on your first date in September.

It's bowling, which is a stereotypical first date, but it's him, so you don't really mind.

Park Jimin is nervous. It's evident in the way he wipes his hands on his pants before he holds your hand. The way he gets quiet after laughing at one of your jokes, as if he's afraid of being too loud or happy.

"No fair!", you call, speaking through a pout. "You've got like, superhuman abilities or something. You're obviously gonna win." Crossing your arms, you shake your head. "I think we should label this as cheating."

Jimin chuckles, rubbing the back of his neck. "I'm not trying, though."

You make a noise of protest. "That's even worse!" Leaning closer to him, a furrow in your eyebrows, you huff. "Are you saying I'm just plain ole bad at bowling, Park?"

"You said it, not me." It's the first joke he's made all night. You laugh, eyes closing just from the force. "I could, uh, I could help you? If you want. Since I'm so good and everything." The last part is said teasingly, and you can hear the smirk in his voice.

You stand, ruffling his hair with a smile. "Teach me then." By the time you've grabbed the ball you've been using the entire time, he's right behind you. Sticking your fingers in the holes, you twist it around lightly.

"I see why you're so bad now." You turn, opening your mouth to defend yourself. "You're not even holding the ball right, you know."

"Well, I'm sorry I was never taught bowling ball holding basics. I didn't even know you could hold one of these-"

He interrupts you with a hand on your waist, delicate and soft. His fingers rest just above the top of your jeans, brushing against soft skin. "Like this", he murmurs. Jimin's other hand adjusts your own. "And then this." He keeps his hand atop yours, and brings your arm back, helping you swing it forward. You're so focused on how close he is that you don't notice you still need to let go of the ball.

Lips brushing against the side of your cheek, Jimin hums. You shiver. "You know, this doesn't actually work unless you let go of the ball when you swing, pretty girl."

You feel like you're going to combust. Park Jimin just called you pretty. Park Jimin, the boy you've had a crush on for months. Called you pretty. Blinking, you swing your arm back with him again, and let it go when it comes forward. Not caring if the ball hits the pins or not, you rotate, until you're face to face with him. All soft, silky hair and lips that look as soft as pillows.

"What?" He raises an eyebrow, another pretty flush spreading over his cheeks.

"Can I kiss you?"

The noise that comes from him mirrors the shock on his face that quickly morphs into timidness. "Like you even have to ask, Y/N."

His lips feel even softer than they look. You've had a first kiss before, but this is the only one that's felt right. Something in you tells you that means something. When you pull away, you're smiling, breathless.

"Hey", Jimin whispers, nodding his head behind you. "You knocked down all the pins."

As he walks you home, he holds your hand.

"I'm glad we got to do this", Jimin says, and his eyes don't meet your own until you squeeze his hand tight. You think about how he'd wrapped you up in the extra sweater he'd been wearing when he'd noticed you were cold. How he'd pulled you closer when walking down the sidewalk because people were bumping into you, and had held you that way the entire way back.

"Me too." You grin, watching the pink on his cheeks spread to his ears and down his neck. His smile mirrors yours regardless.

Jimin sighs. "I'm, um, sorry if it was lame. I know bowling is kinda...well, kinda bland for a first date-"

"It was perfect." You let your fingers detangle as you back up. "Best first date I've ever had."

His cheeks swell with a big, boyish grin. "Next time I'll take you to the arcade downtown." A smirk. "Maybe that time you can beat me in something."

You always thought that if Jimin ever left you, you'd cry.

Not that you thought of it often, but it still came up once or twice. Every time it did, he was always right there, with soothing words and soft lips pressed against the tip of your nose.

So, the fact that you don't cry surprises you.

You don't cry, and a part of you thinks that, if you did, it would never stop.

Your sadness turns into anger at every reminder of him around your apartment. There's traces of him everywhere, a forced memory no matter where you step. So you keep breathing. You take a breath.

You take a breath when you see his lunchbox he took to work with him every day. When you visit your friends and they ask how plans for the yearly Halloween party you'd always throw with him are going. When you see a news article about him and the boy's album release. You breathe.

Because you are angry with him. Angry for making you waste your time, making you think that it was you and him. That he still loved you, and that you knew him.

Going back in your head, everything had seemed fine. The two of you hardly fought, you told each other I love you every morning and every night. You still had your weekly movie nights every Friday. You laughed together.

Nothing had changed, right? You knew him, right?

A week after he's been gone, it hits you that you never knew him that well at all.

You didn't even know him well enough to tell that he was falling out of love with you.

Two weeks after the breakup, and you no longer feel angry. You feel the dragging feeling of sadness creep up on you again. The anger probably would've stayed, but he'd come to get his stuff earlier in the week.

He forgets a few things, but you don't say anything. Why don't you say anything?

Getting used to life without him is a process. You forget that you don't have to buy those off brand crackers he likes. You never wake up in the morning to his humming in the shower. Things...change.

The bed was never this big, was it? It always seemed small, small enough that the two of you always crowded together, legs tangled together, arms around waists.

Now, it's massive. You pull the blanket up to your chin, and even though you probably shouldn't, you press your cheek into his pillow.

When you fall asleep, you dream of him.

His skin is bathed in moonlight, pale and soft. The two of you sit in the big clawfoot bathtub, the one you both loved, empty and fully clothed. He's quiet, and anyone else would think that's because it's nearing three in the morning, but you know him. You recognize the subtle shaking of his hands, the sweat beading at his hairline even though it was freezing inside the apartment, the way he taps his fingers together in rhythm.

You know him.

"Hey." It's the first word spoken since you'd sat down. He's facing you, curls going every which way from attempting to sleep earlier. Holding up the bag you'd snagged before you'd followed him in here, you grin. "Want some marshmallows?"

Jimin's lips twitch into a smile, and even though it disappears as quickly as it came, it's something. Massive hand plunging into the bag, he grabs a handful and proceeds to shove a few in his mouth. You settle for popping them in one by one; the small, colorful bits melt on your tongue.

The bag empties faster than expected, so soon you have nothing to occupy yourselves. As you start to suggest opening the other bag in the pantry, he speaks.

"It's happening again", his shoulders rise up to his ears. His hands rest in between his knees, tangled together, fidgeting.

With a heavy sigh, you lay a hand across his own. "I know." Jimin's eyes meet yours, honey colored and exhausted. The bags under his eyes are more prominent than they have been, and although it's not as bad as the last few times, it's still bad.

"I don't want it to happen again."

And well, you don't quite know what to say to that. Because you don't either. This feeling was always with him, always simmering underneath the surface. It never completely disappeared, but it did get easier to deal with. It was bearable, almost nonexistent at times.

You know it hurts him, and him hurting makes you hurt. He deserves so much good, he is too good, to have so much weight on his shoulders. To be plagued with so much anxiety and pain, and for what? You don't even know the answer.

No one is perfect, as living with him for this many years often reminds you. He's definitely not. He leaves his shoes in the middle of the floor. He forgets to replace the tissue when the roll runs out. He's never had a plant that's lasted more than a week, because he's either not here or just forgets.

So no, he's not perfect. But you know damn well he's the closest thing to it you have.

"I'll be here." You swallow, fingers slotting in between his. "I am here. No matter what, rain or shine, you know that." Jimin lifts the side of his lips into a smile. "I love you."

Switching in his spot, he turns, leaning back against your chest, rejoining your hands soon after. "I know." He brushes his lips across your knuckles. "I love you, too."

Your other hand combs through his hair, twirling curls around your fingers like thread.

The two of you don't retire to your bed until the sun begins to peak over the horizon.

You wake up with sweat beading at your hairline.

In for three, out for three.

You ignore the phantom taste of marshmallows on your tongue. A shaky hand pushes the blankets off of your body, and you're taking the familiar path to the kitchen before you can really think. There's a bag of mini marshmallows where they always are. You grab them, tearing a whole in the top as you walk towards the bathroom.

When your back meets the familiar chill of the tub, you can feel the way your throat begins closing up. But you push it away with a hand full of marshmallows, which distracts you from the aching burn settled deep in your chest.

You've never done this alone. Every time you've sat in this exact same position, marshmallows in hand, he's been here. But there's always time for change. At least that's what you tell yourself.

You'd spent all your time in this tub with Jimin. There weren't any more of those times. No more late night baths where you just talked about your days. No more pic nics on the living room floor when you didn't feel like going out. No more hugs or I love you's or simply just seeing him across the room.

And another. In for three, out for three. Focus on something else. Anything else but him. Your eyes switch from the wall to the bottle of soap on the ledge of the tub. Strawberries and honey. His favorite. Something else. The two towels hanging on the rack, one yellow and one red. You remember picking them out the night you moved in. It's getting harder to see with the tears in your eyes, but it's fine. It's fine.

Because you don't miss him. You can't, because the smell of strawberries and honey are fading from the pillow that's beside yours. The red towel hasn't been used in a month. There's never a box of off-brand crackers with his name on them in the cabinet anymore. And he's not here.

And you can't wish that he is.

September is different this time.

The streets are full of people, and you're filled with a happy sort of warmth as you wait outside of a coffee shop. Rubbing your hands together, you blow warm air on them to rid yourself of the numbness starting to creep in. It's the type of cold that sets in slowly. You nudge your nose against the scarf you're wearing with a shiver.

People around you pass by with smiles, arms full of bags or holding others hands. It's peaceful.

"You're going to drop them!"

Glancing up, your eyes dart around until they find the source of the noise. There's a part of you that wishes you hadn't. A part of you that wants to shove your nose back into the fabric around your neck.

Seeing Park Jimin is...weird.

There's a certain type of irony in the way that you see him during your first September without him. It twists and tears at you with bleeding fists.

"Jimin, let me carry some!"

The girl next to him is pretty. She's more than pretty. Jealousy ebbs in your chest for a mere moment at the smile he gives her, the way his eyes sparkle. Remembering how he used to look at you like that pours salt onto the wound.

His hair is blond now. He looks good. Jimin had always looked good, though. There's no doubt in your mind that he's one of the prettiest people you've ever met. But he looks good. He looks like he's glowing. He looks...happy.

I'm just not...happy anymore.

"I've got it", he laughs, leaning his head back with a smile. Turning, he regains his grip on the bags, switching his gaze over, over, over. "See, like…" His eyes are sparkling. He looks happy. Is this what he meant?

I'm not happy and I don't think I make you happy anymore, either.

"Y/N?"

You quickly avert your eyes, turning and stuffing your hands into your pockets with a huff of breath you can see in the cold air. For a second, you can hear his footsteps getting closer. Of all the ways you thought you'd bump into him, it was safe to say this wasn't on the list. Seeing him wasn't on the list at all. Avoiding the problem until it went away seemed like a good enough plan.

Just as you're ready to turn around and face him, even if you really do not want to, a hand lands on your shoulder. Gentle.

The endless run on thoughts of what you're going to say become muddled as you open your eyes.

"Sorry it took so long. Since someone wanted peppermint hot chocolate, even though they were obviously going to be running out, I had to wait a little longer." The corner of his lips lift into a grin. "Didn't mind though. Anything for you, I suppose."

You shake your head with a smile as he hands you the cup. "Thank you." The drink warms your hands, the numbness melting away.

"Ready to go?"

Jimin's behind you. Jimin is behind you with a girl who may not even be his girlfriend, but a girl who makes him happy. Makes him smile.

And you think you're a little okay with it.

You don't really have a choice, but. It's easier to swallow than you'd expected.

You've learned to live without him. And even though there's a piece of you screaming and throwing a fit like a child that just wants and wants, you don't break.

"Yeah. I am."

Pivoting, you walk forward. He's still relatively far away, but close enough that you can see him in your peripheral vision. Close enough that you make eye contact once more as he readjusts the bags in his arms. Close enough that you see the sparkle in his eyes.

You take a breath as your shoulders pass, mere inches of space between you. He still feels far away.

In for three, out for three. Breathe in.

It smells like strawberries and honey.

You smack your lips together as you continue on.

You're craving marshmallows.

Two Months Before

Park Jimin is scared.

Which isn't something he'd normally admit so easily. But, given the circumstances, he doesn't think too much of it.

Filling his cheeks with air, he gnaws on his bottom lip in thought. He's been chewing on it for so long he'll probably tear a whole in it, but he can't help it. Thinking back on the conversation he'd had hours before scares him. Leaves him with an unsettling feeling in his stomach. Anxious, deadly butterflies.

"How're things with Y/N?" Taehyung sits back, sipping from a stark white coffee mug. "Not that we don't see you guys every two weeks, but, you know."

Jimin laughs, shaking his head. "They're good. She's good, amazing." He's smiling so wide his cheeks hurt.

"God, stop looking like a lovesick fool", his friend teases. He tilts his head, scoffing. "Propose already." Jimin must look as lost as he feels, because Taehyung raises an eyebrow. "You okay?"

He blinks, rolling his shoulders. "Yeah, I'm good. I guess I just...never thought about it. Marriage and stuff. I mean, I have, I just…" He shrugs, eyebrows furrowed. "Never really thought about it too in detail." Why does his stomach feel like this?

"Do you want to marry her?"

"Yes." The answer is instant. Something hidden underneath, but something all known.

Taehyung smiles. "That was pretty fast. Are you sure you've never thought about it?"

Jimin wets his lips, clearing his throat. "Guess it just...doesn't make sense with anyone else. It makes sense with her though. It feels right."

The blue haired male across from him smirks, huffing out a laugh. "Guess you'll need a ring then, huh?"

Marriage had always been a far away concept. Something to be worried about later down the line. It seemed like, without even realising it, down the line had come sooner than he expected. He's known Y/N for five years, and while every moment has been one he wouldn't give up, it's sped by so fast.

But when he thinks about it, it doesn't make sense if it isn't her. Nothing makes sense if it's not her. If he closes his eyes and pictures his wedding day, no matter what, in every scenario, every way you look at it, she's the one walking down the aisle. Every time. It's her.

Jimin reaches into the dresser drawer beside the bed, feeling around until he finds what he's searching for. His fingers brush against the velvet box he'd shoved in there an hour earlier. When he brings it out, the butterflies in his stomach have friends.

He wants to marry her. He wants to do it right. He wants to put this ring on her finger and watch her eyes light up. And plan the wedding with her and discuss color schemes and where to seat guests at the reception. Wants to kiss her in front of a room of people as his wife for the first time. He wants to adopt a dog and buy a house with a backyard.

Park Jimin wants to do all of this, and he wants it to feel right, and it only feels right with her.

But if she said no. If she didn't want him the way he wanted her. Park Jimin is terrifyingly in love with her. The type of love that makes him crazy. That makes him wake up early just to pull her back into his arms, because he knows how she likes being held. Because he knows her.

So if she didn't need him like he needed her, he doesn't think he'd be able to handle it. Because she may be able to walk away and find someone new, but he won't.

She's it for him. This is it for him. He doesn't think there's ever gonna be anyone else.

He's loved her every day since the moment he met her.

The not wanting is what might tear him to pieces. Can nervous butterflies die?

The sound of keys turning in lock nab his attention, and he jumps to his feet, heart in his throat. Something in him aches. "Jimin? I'm home!"

Rubbing his thumb over the velvet box once more, he slips it back into the drawer, way in the back. He closes it, and breathes. In for three, out for three. Jimin looks up, and puts on a smile, even with this ache.

He loves her.

"Coming!"

✒ tags : @lysjeon @goldenlilyz @savageprince7

#park jimin imagine #park jimin x y/n #park jimin x reader #park jimin x you #park jimin #jimin #jimin x reader #jimin x y/n #jimin x you #park jimin imagines #jimin imagines #jimin imagine #bts imagine #bts imagines #bts x reader #bts x y/n #bts x you #bts #dej_writes

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iwrestlenow · 3 years

Text

Many More To Die, Chapter 12

TITLE: Many More To Die (Chapter 12)

FANDOM: Sanders Sides (Necromancer AU)

SUMMARY: While the assassin makes another attempt on Roman's life, the necromancers find help from an unexpected source--and an all too brief reunion between Logan and Roman has some disturbing results.

SHIPS: Logince (Logan/Roman), Moceit (Patton/Janus) and Dukexiety (Remus/Virgil)

WARNINGS: None really, not this time.

Told you this one would come faster. XD It's bigger than most, because the next one is gonna be a whopper--and also, the next installment will be the last! But fear not: I'm already planning a sequel.

...and tbh, I can't stop writing these adorable jerks so you'll get lots more stories outta me. :P

NOTES: This is based on the gorgeous piece of art by @gretacticdraws that can be found here. I ended up writing a ficlet for it, and then my brain got swallowed up. Breathe at me wrong, and I’ll write more…hell, who am I kidding? I’ll write more anyway because this? Is self indulgent drivel. XD

Also located at AO3 over here.

1022, A.A.

“Pass the glue?”

Logan blinked, slowly looking up from his jacket to gradually focus on Roman's face. Watching him rise from something that had swallowed his whole attention was hopelessly adorable—a thing he could never tell Logan to his face, but could never hide the smile that crept across his face when he watched Logan surface like a pearl diver.

He saw the moment Logan's face shifted, the moment he finally returned to reality. Scanning the craft supplies scattered on the riverbank around them, he located the glue pot and passed it to Roman with a curious frown.

“What are you gluing?” he asked.

Roman held up the white mask he'd selected to go with his costume for the final night of the Festival that Logan had invited him to.

“Feathers! I want to be one of those things you showed me in the graveyard—the creatures etched on the one tombstone?”

“Angels.” Logan reminded him. “You know their wings go on their back, not their face.”

Roman rolled his eyes. “I know that, Starlight. I can't exactly get a pair of wings for my costume on such short notice, though, so I...Logan?”

Roman set his mask down, scooting closer to the other boy with a cold lick of concern in his belly. Logan was staring at him with an intensity that made him want to squirm, and his face had gone completely ashen.

“What's wrong?” Roman asked, reaching for his hand. “Logan, are you all right?”

Logan blinked, drawing a trembling breath before briskly shaking his head as if to clear it.

“I—yes, I am fine. I just...” He trailed off, and that look was on Roman again.

“Why did you call me Starlight?”

Roman couldn't stop himself from frowning, confused. Gesturing to the jacket in Logan's lap, he shrugged.

“The beads you're sewing onto it—it looks like the night sky. It's—it's just a nickname, like Specs. I won't use it anymore if it bothers you.”

“No,” Logan insisted, “it is perfectly acceptable, it's just...it surprised me, that's all. Starlight is actually the name I use for the Festival. As I told you, we forsake our identities at the celebration, so we all use different names. Mine is—is Starlight.”

Roman watched Logan blink, and would have accused Logan of lying except that Logan never lied. He took things too literally, he was just...not the kind of person who did it. Not with Roman, at least. So if he said he was fine...

So why did he look like his whole world had been shaken?

“...Muse.” Roman spoke before he could think about it.

“I beg your pardon?”

“Muse.” he repeated, feeling confident about the decision. “That'll be my name for the evening. Muse.”

Logan just stared at him for a long moment before huffing, shaking his head as he scooted across the grass until he was leaning against Roman's side, shoulder pressed to Roman's arm.

“You're not required to do it. You're not part of the tribe.” Logan pointed out.

“It's your tribe, though—and I don't want to be disrespectful.” Roman insisted, reaching for the bag of feathers Logan had brought for their costume work. “Besides, I...I like it. I understand it. It's all to make the dead feel less alone, isn't it? I want to help.”

Roman focused very hard on picking the feathers he wanted to glue to his mask...and tried not to pay attention to the way Logan's head tipped to rest against his shoulder and just stayed that way for a very long time.

**********

1033, A.A.

“So that's how you did it—this is a problem.”

Roman blinked, shaking his head. He hadn't lost consciousness, he was certain of it.

...well, relatively certain.

Glancing around, Roman realized he was in his father's bedchamber, held fast by a palace guard on either side. He tried to tug free, but they held him fast, staring straight ahead with glassy, unfocused eyes and blank expressions.

“Don't bother—I've been rotating soldiers through dungeon detail for years. Nearly all of them are mine now.”

Roman's chest seized with cold, cloying horror and disbelief. He could feel warmth in the hands that held him, see their chests rising and falling with breath...

He turned to the man standing before him—salt and pepper hair and overly tanned features, with piercing blue eyes Roman was starting to realize he should have known on sight.

Colonel Mori—if only he'd remembered before this moment...

“The same curse you used on my father, I take it?” he asked, proud of how level his voice came out, clear and firm.

“Something like that.” Mori replied, idly tossing a familiar ring into the air, catching it, and repeating the action with casual thoughtlessness. “It's always been a specialty of mine—generational curses. You only have to curse a single man, and an entire bloodline or brotherhood will fall...would, at least,

if not for you and that idiot progeny of mine.”

Roman wasn't aware that he'd lunged until he had one guard's arm around his throat to hold him back. He'd actually slipped free, and found it hard to breathe until he consciously stopped trying to wrestle free of his captors.

“Logan is not an idiot.” he snarled. “He's stronger than all of us—he's the best man I have ever known.”

And just like that, he was aware of all the memories that infernal talisman had been holding back—the stolen moments, the beauty of learning new things about Logan's people...the purity of that young love that had been stolen from him.

He thought of Logan now, that lean and handsome face hardened by ten years of imprisonment...and how it opened up to him the night before, how Logan tucked against him in his sleep and clung to every touch like it would be taken away from him, just as he had when they first met...

Mori's hands were suddenly on him, gripping his chin and yanking his hair until Roman was staring directly into his eyes.

“Logan Crofter is a good man—and that is his downfall.” Mori spat as his eyes began to glow with an unholy orange light. “Good men have too many rules and too many weaknesses.”

Roman tried to shake his head, but couldn't fend off the impossible grip of the necromancer before him, the light of his gaze causing a slow, dull throb through his skull.

“Decent men have rules to keep them decent. Evil men like you have rules so they can revel in breaking them.” Roman replied flatly. “Good men don't need rules. They simply choose and act.”

The pain in his head grew, forcing Roman to close his eyes—but the light was still there, behind his lids and in his brain, turning the dull throb into a burn.

“So I'm looking forward, Colonel, to watching you face a good man with no rules—and nothing to lose.”

Mori's laughter was grating in his ears as Roman slowly began to lose the ability to think coherently.

“He has one thing, Your Highness...he has you. And I'm going to make sure he comes to find you so I can get what I want: the soul of another Lazari.”

There was some shuffling, a voice—and Roman's blood ran cold as he hung helpless in the grip of a guard and lost his hold on reality.

“Remy Somnum! Bring me Lord Janus. It's high time I added his life to my collection.”

“Yes, Master.”

********** 1023, A.A.

“You're certain this is where it is?”

Roman nodded as he finally opened the padlock on the door of the long abandoned storeroom, deeep in the bowels of the palace dungeons. “The locator spell Remus gave me works. He knows more about magic than half the court mages, even if he can't use it.”

“Picking locks as well.” Logan observed with a raised eyebrow.

Glancing over his shoulder at Logan, Roman just grinned at his expression.

“Remus didn't teach me that.” he declared, pushing the door open and ushering Logan in ahead of him. “If I'm going to be king one day, I shan't rely on anyone else to rescue me—what if I have to break free of some prison or shackles?”

Logan stepped into the room ahead of him, but immediately stopped and turned to face him, looking at Roman with blue eyes that glittered with something Roman couldn't name, something that made it hard to breathe.

It happened so fast he almost couldn't process it—Logan's hands in his tunic, the sudden feel of warmth crowding his front...

The soft, firm, smacking press of a kiss to his mouth that made his heart, and the rest of the world, stop.

For long moments, they just stared at each other, Logan seemingly reeling as much as Logan was.

“I...I am—I'm—apologies.” Logan stammered, trying to busy himself with straightening his tie instead of holding onto Roman's tunic. “I did not mean...that is to say—I just—your intellectual moments, they just—you're so—and I--”

Roman snatched up Logan's hand, pressing his lips to the back of it. He could feel Logan trembling, and Roman felt his heart tremble in sync with it.

“Me, too, Starlight.”

For a second they just stood there, Logan's hand in his, and Roman's heart...

He had never, not once in his short fourteen years of life, ever felt so tranquil or so powerful, and definitely not both at the same time.

Roman forced himself to be the strong one, releasing Logan's hand so he could shut the door and finally take proper stock of the room.

There was barely any light through the bars on the small window in the door, but Logan moved forward with purpose, locating a torch and lighting it with some spell Roman didn't recognize—one that ignited a dazzling blue-white flame that was far clearer and brighter than the golden flicker of normal torchlight.

The layer of dust covering everything in the room was so thick Roman could feel the urge to cough bubbling in his throat just from breathing the air. The walls were lined with bookshelves, and could have made it easy to mistake the space for a library save for the fact that there were very few books on any of those shelves.

“It's like some kind of storeroom.” Logan observed. “That, or...perhaps a trophy room?”

“I told you,” Roman reminded him, “this palace is full of hidden nooks and crevices—places to hide, or to hide something you don't want anyone else to find. I hardly ever notice this door, but the locator spell sure did.”

“So...who does this belong to?” Logan wondered aloud, venturing over to one of the shelving units that had a few books scattered throughout. “And if these are trophies, what are they trophies of?”

Roman wondered the same thing, so intensely it took him a moment to realize Logan was no longer by his side. Shaking himself, Roman crossed the room carefully, painfully aware of the layer of dust his feet were disturbing as he came to stand beside Logan in front of the shelf. His eyes scanned over the objects and books displayed there until...

“Here!” he suddenly blurted, reaching up to pluck a book off the shelf. “This binding matches the Tomes in the palace library.”

Passing the small, leatherbound volume to Logan, he watched as Logan ran his fingers over the cover with a strangely thoughtful look, head cocked just slightly before he opened the volume.

“Is that it?” he asked hopefully. “The geneaology?”

Logan stared at the first page, shaking his head. “No...I mean, it is one of the Tomes, the one you likely said would have the magical bloodlines of the royal family, but—Roman, this was hidden for a reason. It's one of the Forbidden Tomes.”

“What?! Weren't those lost before the fall of the Animator?”

“Affirmative...this one, however, is quite new. Old still, mind you, but maybe two hundred years old at the most.” Logan looked up at Roman, eyes wide.

“I think this volume is a reconstruction.”

That rattled around in Roman's head, untethered and incomprehensible. “Who would be old enough to be able to rewrite one of the Forbidden Tomes? And how do you know how old this book is?”

Logan just stared at it...then flipped a couple of pages before going weirdly still.

“I can...it's an incorrect description, but I can hear it. The Tomes are written in mystical dialects, languages laden with power. My power.”

He lifted his head, meeting Roman's gaze head on with an intensity that stole Roman's breath.

“The mystical dialect this book was composed in is Mairome—the language of necromancy.”

Roman couldn't get his voice to work for a long moment as Logan turned back to the Tome and began reading, eyes flicking back and forth at a speed that was vaguely dizzying, trying to consume every nuance of the page, drinking it all in.

“What...what does it say?” he finally managed to ask aloud.

Logan didn't answer for a long moment. He shut the book gently, his gaze cast downwards.

“It says,” Logan finally answered, “that King Thomas Roman I is the name of the Animator.”

“...that can't be true. That...that means...”

“It means that the king did not slay the Animator—it means your ancestor assassinated the king. It means the Necromata have a legitimate claim to the throne.”

Roman ran his hands over his face, dizzy with the onslaught of information. “Who knew this that they had to take this book from the palace library and hide it here?”

“I think I know that, too.” Logan croaked, handing the book to Roman. “Start here—you should be able to read it.”

Roman accepted the book and peered at the page. Most of the text was a blurry mess of gently glowing lines and strange symbols, but some of the words were written in clear, plain English in various parts of the page.

When he was done, he passed the book back to Logan, reeling.

“Mori...I know that name.” Roman realized. “What are these?”

“They are the True Names of the monarchy.” Logan replied. “I know the name as well—it is the name of the man who tried to kill me when we first met.”

“...you never told me that.”

“I did not know his place among the palace guard—if he was someone close to you, I feared for your safety if he knew you were aware of his crimes.”

“Corporal Mori...he's a member of the dungeon guard.” Roman murmured. “My brother and I used to sneak into the dungeons to play at adventuring when we were little—he was a new private back then, and cruel to both of us. But...Logan?”

“Yes?”

“The name in there, below Thomas Roman I. Is that the Animator's son?”

Logan swallowed thickly. “It is.”

“But...but his True Name is Crofter...that's your last name.”

“Affirmative. At least...it was. Just as Mori's name was once Thomas Roman Sanders.”

Roman couldn't speak around the sudden tightness in his throat. Instead, Logan spoke for him.

“The Animator...he's not your ancestor, Roman—he's mine.”

Then the door of the storage room opened, slamming against the pile of detritus behind it.

Roman froze. Logan, however, snatched the book and rose.

“I'll lead him away—get back to your rooms at once, and look after Virgil.”

“Logan--”

He was cut off by another abrupt kiss, this one on the cheek.

“We'll get out of this, one way or another. I swear it on the Spider's Thread.”

Then Logan was gone, diving between the legs of the figure in the doorway to lead him away from Roman's location.

********** 1033, A.A.

“Paddock.”

Patton looked up from where he was crouched beside Logan's prone, writhing body. Logan's eyes had rolled back into his head and he was muttering incoherently while he twitched and twisted with an agony Patton could only guess at.

The voice that had spoken aloud belonged to a prison mage he recognized. The man was tall, dark, and tanned. He was handsome, mostly—he always wore dark glasses that hid his eyes, so it was difficult to be sure.

“What're you doing here, Somnum?” Remus asked sharply. He was awfully fast, next to Virgil one minute and the next standing beside Janus in front of Logan's prone form so Patton could only see Master Somnum through the space between their shoulders.

“Remy—the name's Remy, you fuckin' killjoys.” the mage sighed. “Will you just move already? Patton can vouch for me.”

“I can?” He asked uncertainly. Patton's nostrils flared on reflex, trying to scent the air—and immediately felt his magic rise, all animal instinct and threat.

The smell of death, old and ripe, was on the air. Not the smell of corpses or long settled dust, but death, fresh damp grave dirt and sticky in his lungs like worms crawling.

But...

Patton turned to Virgil, crouched beside him, and put a hand on his shoulder. Virgil just looked at him, then at Remus and Remy, and nodded before focusing on his brother again.

Patton stood and came to stand next to Remus. He could feel more than hear the subsonic hiss building in the back of Janus's throat nearby, and found his gaze to reassure him before he faced the prison mage.

“He knows my True Name.” Patton admitted. “Janus can confirm it...but how?”

Remy didn't answer right away. He just stared at Patton, making him feel squirmy stomach and trembly. Breathing felt...not hard, but strange, and he wasn't sure if he liked it--

Reaching up, Remy removed his dark glasses.

“'Cause mine's Graymalkin.” he replied softly.

“What does that mean?” Virgil snapped testily. “Quoting Macbeth at each other won't--”

Patton didn't hear the rest. As far as he knew, Black Dogs and Heralds couldn't fly, but he couldn't feel the floor under his feet anymore...

...oh. Oh, he couldn't feel any of his legs anymore. The world was spinning, too—kind of like playing Statue Maker as a boy, grabbing his friends' hands and spinning, spinning, spinning before he had to stop and strike a pose--

“Patton.”

Patton blinked, and suddenly drew a deep, shuddering breath into his lungs before he started coughing. He—oh, he hadn't been breathing. That wasn't remotely good, willikers!

As he tried to get his breathing normalized, Patton found he was on the floor, being cradled in Janus's arms. His forehead was tucked against the scaled side of his neck, a lovely contrast of cool scales over warm skin and so much softer than anyone would think scales could be. As Patton calmed, he drifted, and gently rubbed his forehead against those scales, sighing at the soothing texture of their satiny surface brushing his skin, the edges gently catching in ways that sent pleasant little buzzes of sensation from his forehead to skitter over his scalp.

Finally, he lifted his head—and found Remy kneeling in front of them, staring at Patton.

His eyes were pure onyx, from sclera to pupil—solid black orbs in his head, barely glinting in the light of the room. They were the eyes of a hijacked body, a resurrection gone wrong. The owner of the body was gone, and another soul had taken its place.

A soul Patton was fairly certain he knew.

“Patton?” Janus's voice, a question.

Slowly, Patton nodded.

Remy sagged visibly in relief. “You remember...Paddy, I'm a Reaper. I can help Logan. Will you let me?”

Feeling more like himself, Patton nodded again. Without thinking, he twisted and tipped his head up to kiss Janus's cheek before he got shakily to his feet.

“Virgil, Remy's gonna help.” he announced, still watching Remy with a secret fear that this would be a dream and that he'd vanish.

“Fuck you. I don't--”

“He's my brother. Please, Virge.”

There was silence for several moments, but then Remy was moving off some indication from Virgil, and Patton twisted to watch Remy drop to his knees at Logan's side. He touched his forehead, taking his hand and watching him closely.

“Motherfucker knows the only real way to kill a Lazari, and he's using the king to do it.” Remy muttered. “Let's see...nerd's Claim is holding, that's good, but his mind won't hold up under the Baccanal...lemme see, gurl...”

Remy shut his eyes, bowing his head. As he did, Patton suddenly felt a gust of warm air touching the back of his neck, making him flinch and whip his head around.

“Easy, Sin-ammon Roll.”

Prince Remus was there, his hand a buzzing gnat in Patton's awareness as it sat on his shoulder. He was watching Patton with a look he couldn't read—his features were like Janus's, well schooled into calm lines, but his eyes were clouded with some very turbulent emotion.

“Is the prison mage really your brother?”

Patton opened his mouth to answer, but no sound was coming out. The words were all there, but they were sort of...clogging in his throat, too many coming too fast, all fighting to escape at the same time. Fortunately, Janus's arms were suddenly there again, wrapped around his waist, cradling Patton back against his chest, warm warm warm and comforting in their familiarity.

“Patton was four years old when his brother died.” Janus stepped in. “Remington Morell was not quite fourteen—essentially executed in the street. Patton told me when they were children...their mother loved the Scottish play. Quoted it all the time--'I come, Graymalkin' when Remy called for her, 'Paddock calls' when Patton would cry.”

“...but the kid died.”

“Yes, but...it's the black eyes. They indicate the presence of a Raptor.”

“Like the dinosaur?” Remus asked.

“Like a body thief—a soul that hijacks a coprse during a botched resurrection.” Janus sighed, rolling his eyes as Patton twisted his head to look up at him.

“Ohhhh, I mean—wow.”

“Lucky for me, children age in Shadow.” Remy's voice piped up. Refocusing on Logan, Patton realized his best friend wasn't writhing and muttering anymore, just...laying there, asleep. Seemingly, anyway.

“What'd you do?” he asked, gently removing himself from the circle of Janus's arms to move towards Remy as he stood.

“Guided Logan to the Loom of Memory.” he replied. “It'll protect him for a while, and let him communicate with Roman if I'm right about how those two are bound—Mori's got the king under the Baccanal.”

“Cursing him with madness?” Patton breathed, his stomach churning with horror as he covered his mouth with both hands. “That's forbidden, Remoo.”

“Yeah, well, the Animator ain't known for playing by the rules, gurl.” Remy replied with a shrug. “So burning away a man's mind, one layer at a time until he's a drooling vegetable? Totally on the table.”

Patton felt something loosen in his chest as he grinned up at the other man. “You really are Remy, aren't you?”

Remy opened his mouth, brow furrowed with confusion—then understanding filled his features and he grinned, laughing. “Ah, geez—Remoo. You started calling me that when you were two 'cause you couldn't say Remington.”

“It's the only thing I remember really well.” Patton admitted, rushing forward to fling his arms around Remy with a choked laugh that quickly melted to tears.

“Mom and Pop kept your Vigil every Festival—but I never stopped.” he giggled wetly. “Every day—I had an altar in my room...”

“I know.” Remy soothed, holding onto Patton tight and reaching up to tousle his curls in a manner that Patton didn't recognize, but still felt weirdly familiar. “I heard you. Why do you think I snuck back when I realized you were in trouble?”

Patton pressed his face into Remy's shoulder. The smell of the mage's trade clung to him, acid and alcohol and herbs, but under that was something that set of primal echoes in Patton's head of family home safe loved, loamy earth and fresh rain.

Remy held on tight, just for a few seconds, but when he pulled back Patton felt steadier than he had in a very long time.

“We need to get the Lazari outta here.” Remy instructed. “It's a long story, but I was sent here to drag Lord Scaly off for execution. Plans changed, now I'm takin' you all somewhere safe.”

“Where's that?” Virgil asked, flinching when Remus swooped in to gather Logan up into his arms before Virgil could.

“Long story, tell you when we get there. Everyone move.”

********** When Logan opened his eyes, he was home.

It was a very familiar part of his home, however—none other than his childhood bed, wrapped in a familiar pair of arms.

Lifting his head, he had to fight not to lose his composure when he saw Roman's face. His head was nestled into Logan's pillow, features slack with repose...

Then tense, a low noise of distress rumbling in his chest, vibrating against Logan and shooting straight to his marrow.

Reaching out, Logan dug his fingers in beneath Roman's ribs. Fortunately it worked: immediately, Roman woke up with a squeal that was wholly undignified, and melted immediately into giggling he promptly cut off.

“Roman, it's okay...shhhh, you are safe. It's Logan, I'm here.”

Roman stared at him with a blank, unfocused look that scared Logan—actual fear he could not deny any longer, cold and cloying and sticking to the inside of his chest. Those green eyes were glassy and unseeing...they did not know him.

Very deliberately, Logan reached for Roman's hand, meshing their fingers together. He held them up in Roman's eyeline.

“Hold on...do not let go.”

That struck a chord, bringing some focus back to Roman's eyes. After a moment that stretched into eternity, Logan felt Roman's fingers tighten around his. Roman stared at their joined hands, mouth working soundlessly...

“I...never have.” Roman finally replied. “I never will.”

Logan's throat closed up, his eyes burning.

“Swear it on the Spider's Thread?” He hated how small his voice sounded, how desperate.

Recognition finally sparked in Roman's eyes.

“...Starlight.”

Logan lost control then, flinging himself into Roman's arms. Roman let himself be bowled over onto his back, let Logan stretch out atop his body, press his face into the curve of Roman's neck, and just held on tight as Logan wept for the first time in ten years. Deep, heaving, wretched sobs that Roman soothed him through, a hand running over his back, Roman's deep and beautiful voice murmuring soothing nonsense directly into his ear.

Time passed. The slow, steady rhythm of Roman's fingers gradually smoothed the jagged edges until he could reach out and touch them without getting cut open again.

“Did you know?” Logan finally asked, lifting his head to meet Roman's gaze.

Roman stared back up at him, uncomprehending as his fingers drifted up to caress Logan's cheek. Logan found himself unable to resist leaning into the tender touch.

“Did I know what?”

“That day by the river—before the Festival. Did you know that you changed my True Name.”

“...not until we found the Tome. I...suspected something happened, but wasn't sure until we read about your grandfather.”

“What about later? When you came to me in my cell and gave me my new Name?”

“I...I'm not sure. I know I wasn't supposed to remember what you were to me, but...”

But he had. Reaching up to catch the hand Roman still had pressed to his cheek, Logan felt like he understood. Not really, but...but that was the point.

Roman never should have remembered enough to care about Logan, yet he'd come to find him, and helped him in his moment of need.

“I think,” Logan began hesitantly, “that it is as Grandpap often says. The stuff of Shadow—the things we are not allowed to know.”

Roman frowned pensively. His brow furrowed with it, and Logan let himself surrender to the temptation of bowing his head and kissing that line away.

“Miracles.” Roman murmured. “Shadow brought to the light.”

Logan made a sound of affirmation, nose brushing along Roman's hairline.

“Or an outsider brought to the Loom of Memory.”

Roman shifted under him, seeking out Logan's gaze with wide, curious green eyes.

“Is that where we are?” he asked, awestruck.

Logan nodded, running his fingers through Roman's hair.

“It is...and time moves differently here.” he explained, mouth hovering over Roman's.

Time Logan was going to take...because if Logan was Lazari, that meant he had power. If he was descended from the Animator, the First and most powerful, he had more power still. If he was bound, soul to soul, to the ruler of all the Kingdoms, Logan had power beyond magic.

He had all the power, maybe more, of his ancestor. Power enough to corrupt.

So he allowed it to corrupt him. He let himself be ruthlessly selfish.

He was not going to allow Roman to be taken from him again.

Never again.

********** He expected to feel a warm, strong pair of arms around him when he rose from a deep and restful slumber...but instead, his groggy mind was rattled by voices.

“So you've just been...what? Fooling him into thinking you were zombified? That's hot, don't get me wrong, but I don't see how he'd buy it.”

“Gurl, greedy men are dumber than a bag of hair—ain't that right, Emi?”

“Eh—yes, sweetheart. Basically, anyway. It takes a great deal of focus and power to control as many dead as Mori currently is.”

“That's why our people don't normally do it—raising a corpse is way different from resurrecting someone to life. Grandpap told Logan off for even suggesting the raising of more than two corpses at the same time. It's doable, but I think five is the limit before you risk madness under the weight of all those deaths.”

“So these are really zombies? Not people he resurrected? Gosh, that's just...scary.”

“Easy, baby brother—none of 'em are coming the fuck near you. That's why I got a heart-healer on my side...they don't tell people that they study necromancy on the side, y'know.”

“Remy, please. We don't...er...well, we don't study all of necromancy. Just necromatic theory—its relation to the mind. The function of the Cleansing, body theft, the psychological toll of magic...that's sort of how Remy and I met. I'm a bit of a bookworm...”

“Shhhh, he's waking up!”

Finally opening his eyes, he moved to sit up, reaching, fumbling until strong fingers caught his.

“It's okay, Loganberry—you're fine.”

“Logan—where is he?”

That was the moment he froze, his question coming out...strange. Deep, but not deep enough, well enunciated but too stiff.

“Logan?”

That was his voice...but it wasn't his voice saying Logan's name.

“...something's wrong.”

He looked around in confusion. Something was wrong with his eyes, the world fuzzy and haloed in blurs of color. He could recognize Remus only from the color of his tunic and the sound of his voice.

“Remus? What's happening?”

“Hold on—Virgil, his glasses.”

He didn't wear glasses, what the--

Then a pair was being set on his face, and the world suddenly came into painful focus. He was laying on a low couch in one of the palace offices. Remy and the heart-healer, Emile Picani, stood off to one side. Virgil and Remus knelt by his side now, with Janus and Patton wrapped around each other by the window.

Trembling, he lifted his hands in front of his face.

Pale. Slim. Long, lean fingers that had run through his hair so greedily, touched him so tenderly, blunt nails scoring skin in the depths of his mind...

“...Roman?”

Lowering Logan's hands—now his hands—Roman looked into his twin brother's eyes, into the face that he shared with him.

Or had at the start of the day.

“Please tell me that my brother did not just swap bodies with the fucking king?” Virgil squeaked, looking visibly ill as he swallowed thickly.

Roman, wearing Logan's skin, nodded slowly.

“I think he did,” Roman replied, “and in doing so...he just gave Mori exactly what he wanted.”

#necromancer au #sanders sides #fanfic #fic #logan sanders #roman sanders #janus sanders #virgil sanders #remus sanders #patton sanders #ts creativity #ts dark creativity #ts morality #ts deceit #ts anxiety #ts logic #my name is liz and i swear to god i will fic again #this is all the artist's fault i'm just the hapless writer that stumbled across it

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moth-and-raven · 3 years

Text

CHAPTER FOUR

The rest of the day passes in a haze. Loud cheers met Nadia’s announcement and Portia slipped into the rush just in time to board the carriage, tear-stained but determined to fight through it.

I must have been imagining things. I don’t want to think poorly of Julian, but I have to face facts: people will do and say anything to keep themselves off the gallows. He’s smart. He’s charismatic. He knows I’m working with the Palace. I can’t help but think he was just trying to endear himself to me, taking advantage of how obviously attracted to him I am. I can’t blame him for that. It’s my own fault for chasing what was a pathetic pipe dream from the start.

I retreat to my room after we return to the palace. It’s not unreasonable, considering I haven’t slept much in the past few days. From my bed, I watch spots of sunlight creep across the ceiling until I fall asleep. At least it’s dreamless this time.

Portia comes to get me for dinner in the late evening, when the sky’s turned purple. She’s itching with curiosity, peeking at me from the corner of her eye the whole way to the dining hall. Before we enter, she clears her throat.

“So, um.”

“It was nothing.” If I keep telling myself that, maybe it’ll hurt less. “Did you—?”

“Safe and sound. At least as much as he can be.”

“How long had it been since—?”

She pulls her bottom lip between her teeth just like he does. “Ten years, give or take. The last time I saw him was right after his apprenticeship. He came back to Nevivon for a few months while he was figuring out what else to do. I was only sixteen, so he must’ve been… twenty-five?”

The same age I am now. I didn’t realize he was that much older than me, though I suppose it makes sense. He’s lived quite a life. Yet more reason for him to see nothing of interest in me.

Portia pushes on: “What will you say to—?”

“I’m not telling her anything.” I shake my head and look away. “I don’t have anything to tell her anyway.”

That’s not a lie. I may know more about him now, but nothing pertinent.

“She’ll ask.”

“I know.”

I must not be doing as good of a job hiding my sadness as I thought I was, because Portia rests her hand on my shoulder and squeezes gently. I don’t have it in me to say that whatever she’s imagining isn’t true.

I can’t do this.

“Could you tell Nadia that I—” Humiliated, I choke on my tears. “I'm— I’ll be in the library.”

I’m already around the corner by the time she agrees. I don't know what I’m going to do there, but at least I’ll be alone. Again.

I may not remember beyond the last three years, but I know in my heart that I’ve never been loved like I am in my dreams. I probably never will be. With all the beautiful people out there, who would choose me, the fat twenty-five-year-old virgin so gullible she falls for every man who looks at her twice? What could I possibly offer someone like him?

Nothing.

Painful, empty nothing.

I end up at the library eventually. At least I can navigate the palace better than I could the South End. My tears have almost stopped before I feel the metal arc of the crescent moon still hanging around my neck and break apart again. I manage to reach an armchair, nestled in an alcove near a half-flight of stairs, and curl up in it as best I can to weather the storm.

I’m so ugly when I cry. Thank god no one can see it. No one ever should.

When the waves settle and my breath doesn’t feel so foreign in my lungs, I press my palms to my eyes and sigh heavily. I have a headache now, as I always do after I cry like that. I know I should be hungry, but I’m not. I don’t know what I am.

But I made a promise. To Nadia and to Julian. Even if I never see him again, I’ll help him as much as I can. And with all of his research, all the palace staff who knew both him and Lucio, all the magic echoes swirling around waiting for someone to hear them, I think I can help him a lot.

------

I was always more comfortable at night. I sleep a little bit, curled up in the armchair, but it’s not very comfortable and I wake up sore. I’m glad I came to the library, though: Julian’s desk is a mess of torn papers and marked-up books, underlines and strikethroughs and question marks in the margins, and I have so little time to piece it all together. If I hadn’t slept yesterday away… yesterday. I shouldn’t be thinking about yesterday. It was nothing. It is nothing.

He’ll be nothing if I can’t figure this out.

Portia brings me something to eat in the very early hours, right before dawn. Without saying a word, she draws up another chair and starts sorting through things too. She can read his handwriting much more easily than I can.

And Count Lucio’s name shows up. And again, and again. Lucio’s temperature rising. Lucio says wine tastes metallic. Alchemical fluid in Lucio’s prosthetic turned red, wouldn’t survive replacement. Observations in clipped clinical speech, but scrawled with ever-increasing desperation. Lucio spitting up blood. Lucio not sleeping, complaining of bad dreams. Lucio too weak to eat, still alive.

Notes on the dissection of a beetle, a cross-section of a human brain, a map of the palace with large red Xs over half the rooms in the east wing. Peeking over my shoulder, Portia points at them.

“That’s the Count’s Suite. He had the whole wing, actually. No one goes up there anymore.”

I straighten up, my joints crackling from the hours I've spent hunched over. “Why?”

She shrugs. “Nadia had the whole thing blocked off. It’s really dirty, from the— all the ash and stuff. And people say it’s haunted.”

“By Lucio?”

“I guess. One of the other housekeepers swears they saw the ghost of a weird guy at the top of the stairs once. That it looked right at them with spooky red eyes. I think they’re full of shit, but maybe it’s worth a look?”

There could be a thousand things worth a look. If I had more time… “I don’t know. I have a couple spells that might be able to pin down a ghost, but I’ve never actually tried them.”

“If it is Lucio, though, wouldn’t he be able to say who killed him?”

“Hm. That’s true. Is the wing locked?”

Portia grins and fishes in her pocket. “Not if you have keys.”

The main staircase is close to the library. I feel the air get colder as we approach, and the hairs on my arms and the back of my neck start to stand up even before Portia unlocks the corridor that leads to Lucio’s bedroom. It’s eerily quiet, all gray and black, luxury gone to ruin in the wake of a disaster. I’ve seen reproductions of burned-out buildings that look like this, after heavy battles. It crosses my mind that destruction of that caliber had taken extremely powerful magic to accomplish, not the actions of a single man weakened by pressure and long hours in the midst of a plague. Julian can’t even do magic. He said as much during our long conversation at the Raven. I can’t imagine anything else that would do this much damage without bringing the entire palace down.

Interesting.

Cinders crunch underfoot. Charred paintings watch us pass. A primal fear creeps along just behind us, whispering then asking then screaming at us to flee. I can feel my heart in my throat and adrenaline in my blood, every sense heightened. Tattered curtains move at the corner of my eye: I’m terrified to look and even more terrified not to.

But I can tell without bringing magic to my hand that there’s nothing here. At least nothing that wants to make itself known. There’s just a spark of pure rage somewhere deep inside the wing, but it doesn’t want to be seen. No ghosts, no goats, no ghost goats. No spooky red eyes. Just soot and smoke stains and three years of neglect. The fear lurking in the back of my mind isn’t supernatural, just the normal human mistrust of the dark and abandoned.

We go all the way to the end of the suite to no avail. Part of me thinks I should stay, but I’m getting tired now and the idea of sleeping in these rooms isn’t appealing. Portia takes my sigh as an admission of defeat and pats my arm. It was a distant hope anyway.

Near the end of the corridor as we leave, a small glimmer catches my attention. If I hadn’t been looking that way to start with, I never would’ve noticed it.

“Hey Portia, what’s in there?”

She lifts up the lantern and peers into the room. “Bath chamber, I think.”

We see it at the same time, as the light catches the red gleam again: falling from the sink are drops of blood. More of it trickles across the floor. The walls are stained from it, up to the window.

“What the fuck?”

My sentiments exactly. What is this? It can’t be actual blood, can it? This is the top floor of the palace. Is it bubbling up through the plumbing?

“Nadia’s gonna want to know about this,” Portia says in a small voice.

“Wait. Let me check it out first.”

She turns to look at me, pale in the lantern’s glow. “This is way beyond whatever my brother might have done. It could infect the whole palace!”

“Do you think it’s infectious?”

Portia frowns. “Did you… Were you in Vesuvia back then? During the Plague?”

There’s no point in lying. “No.”

“Neither was I, but I heard about it. Before I left Nevivon, some sailors docked and told everyone what they’d seen. People died so quickly, there wasn’t space to keep their bodies. And they were all red, their eyes and their fingertips, everywhere you could see veins.” She shudders. “I can’t believe Ilya worked with it and… and…”

She must’ve been so scared, knowing that he could die any day.

“You know that big ugly crematorium out in the bay?” she asks.

“The Lazaret.” Everyone knows about that. You can see it from shore, a jagged silhouette reminding everyone of the toll the Plague took on the city. I don’t like looking at it: it makes my heart ache.

“Yeah. Even with that, there were too many bodies. So many people… There was a rumor that the Palace stored the extra ones, until they could be burned.”

“Where would they have been able to keep them?”

“Dunno. But there’s a huge tunnel system under here, all the way down into the cliffs. And the dungeon’s really big.”

I’d wondered how Julian could escape the prison cells, when the only way out was through the palace itself. Tunnels would explain that, I suppose. “So do you think there’s still something tainting the water?”

Her eyes are wide in the dark. “There might be. Kinda like here, no one’s been in the dungeons for ages. Probably since then.”

I frown. It’s unlikely, but I can’t deny the evidence right in front of me. I take another step into the washroom and trace the flow towards the wall. Some of the stones are loose now, after years of water damage. There’s more than enough room for it all to drain away between them.

Weak dawn sunlight floods the horizon as I stand up and glance out the window. I can see most of the city from here, out across the harbor to the Lazaret and down through the South End and directly into the lush gardens below.

And beyond the gardens, flowing from the palace along the channel of an aqueduct, is a stream of blood red.

------

Nadia scowls at the dripping red water, then summons her bodyguard to her side and dispatches them with a whispered order. Both Portia and I follow her out of the wing, but Portia splits off at the base of the stairs to see to her duties while Nadia invites me into the dining hall for breakfast.

A massive, gaudy painting hangs over the table, eyeing us as we pick over the array of egg dishes and sliced fruit. It depicts a celebration scene, I think, presided over by a muscular blond man with his arms spread wide over a crowd of adoring citizens. Nadia notices me looking at it and chuckles.

“Admiring my late husband’s art sense, are you, Reyja?”

I don’t want to offend her, but I think Count Lucio should’ve stuck to partying. “It’s, um, very vibrant.”

“That was typical of him,” she laughs. “Ostentatious to a fault.”

People don’t talk about Lucio much, unless they’re cursing his name for all the damage he did to the city with his warmongering and overspending. I’m trying to solve his murder, but now that I think of it, I don’t know much about the man himself. “What was he like?”

Nadia grimaces. “Much as you’ve heard, I expect. Loud, brash, insolent. Committed to his life of luxury. I would not have married him, had I been sober when he proposed.”

She must catch my surprise, because she fixes me in her dark eyes and raises a brow as if daring me to judge her.

Of course I won’t. “How did you two meet?”

“He was visiting Prakra,” she says. “To present himself to Empress Nasrin, my mother, as the Count of Vesuvia. He had been in power for some time by then, as I recall. I believe he told me that he’d first come to this city nearly twenty years before, on a mercenary contract.”

“He wasn’t from here?”

“No. He was of the Southern tribes.”

That’s confusing. “How did he get to be Count?”

“The former Count grew quite fond of him. Lucio was named his heir shortly after he arrived, and took the throne shortly after that. He spoke often of the battle in which he lost his arm—” She points at the painting. Lucio’s left arm shines, gilded in gold leaf. “—the same in which Spada was killed.”

Lucio may have been bloodthirsty, especially fond of the fights to the death at the coliseum Vesuvia used to be famous for, but everyone knew his roots as a successful mercenary. Even in his forties, when he died, he was strong and virile.

Which was why his death came as such a shock. Who would’ve thought such a man would die in his bed, ravished by sickness and weak enough to fall to an unskilled assassin?

“What about the Plague?” I ask quietly. People talk about Lucio a little bit, but no one discusses the Plague at all, as if the mere mention of it will cause its return.

Nadia nods. “It appeared nearly overnight, five years ago. No one had seen its like before. To my knowledge, nothing like it has been seen since, either.”

“Do we know where it came from?”

“I’m afraid not. Little is known of it, save that it killed thirty thousand of my people in two years.”

Her people. Nadia may have been Prakran by birth, but this was her city now.

“I had been visiting my sisters when it struck,” Nadia continues, gaze unfocused as she looks back through her memories. “As such, I was forbidden from returning until we were certain it had passed.”

I remember the parade that welcomed her back, but I didn’t realize she’d been gone that long. It’s been less than a year: she must be so busy, trying to pull Vesuvia together again. No wonder the search for her husband’s murderer hadn’t been her top priority until now. “I’m sorry.”

She tilts her head, looking at me. “Understand this, Reyja: if the Plague has not truly left the city, and what you and dear Portia discovered today is proof of that, then the search for Doctor Devorak must be set aside. I am eager to see justice done, but one man’s life, when weighed against the lives of thousands, will not tip the scales. I hope I may rely upon your services regardless of that outcome.”

Her visit to the shop feels very far away. I’m attached to this now, however big it gets. “I’ll be here.”

“Thank you. I have sent Yazakh to fetch an expert on the Plague from their estate. I hope they will return soon, but in the meantime, I urge you to rest. We may have much to consider in the coming days.”

I take a small pastry with me when I leave the table and make my way back to my room. I don’t doubt that she’s right, but even with this additional set of problems, I can’t keep my mind away from Julian. Thoughts of him cloud my head as I lay down for a nap and they’re still there when I wake up. My stomach isn’t happy with me, swirling with guilt and humiliation and anxiety, but I don’t know what to do about it.

The expert still hasn’t arrived when I go up to Lucio’s suite to check. I pass the library on the way back and my fingers fly to the silver moon pendant still around my neck, following the divot Julian’s own nerves wore in the metal. I suppose it wouldn’t hurt to look through his notes while I wait, if I can concentrate enough to get anything useful out of them.

I can’t.

When the sun sets again, I give up. Another day gone, and I’ve only discovered more things to do. I need something to focus on, something with a solution, something… something that might distract me from the fact that I’m no closer to clearing Julian’s name.

I can follow that water, if nothing else. I don’t know where it’s coming from, but maybe I can learn where it’s going. And I can get out of the palace, maybe work off some of this nervous energy. And I won’t be surrounded by pieces of him, distracting me from my mission. It’ll be perfect.

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

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#the arcana #the arcana fanfic #reyja north #julian devorak #moth & raven

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sirengf-moved · 4 years

Note

oh boy 1) 2, 5, 7, 10, 15 || 2) 3, 7, 9 || 3) 6, 7, 20 || 4) 4, 9, 27 || part five is embarrassing so none of that shit 💓 || 6) 2, 4, 10 || i gave u so many because i lov u but i'm also fucked up 🍊🌿💐💓

mars i lov u , also don’t worry i’m vain and i love answering questions abt myself so this works perfectly 😌🍯☁️✨🍓🍃 HOLD ONTO UR BUTT THIS IS A LOT :

( part 1 ) 🍨

Have you ever cut your hair yourself?

a: as a kid i think i got something stuff in my hair , gum or ? i’m unsure it’s a foggy memory but i just cut my hair and my mom got soooooo mad bc we had a friend who was a hairdresser and we didn’t tell her or anything and we just cut it , tbh it was pretty liberating but at the same time i don’t remember if i did a good job or not 💀

Do you collect anything?

a: mmm, jars ...... me telling myself i’m gonna gather jars for spellwork and i never actually do it so i just have a shit ton of mason jars , emptied candle jars , small flasks with cork screw lids all sitting around my crystals and incense ect....... rip me.

Are you a fan of bread and butter?

a: yes! i eat fried bread w/ light butter for breakfast most mornings , probably unhealthy but like.......it’s very yummy..... 😔

Have you ever almost died?

a: ive almost drowned at least 3 times, this racist dude thst i almost beat the shit out of nearly ran me over on my way home with his redneck truck ( forgetting i knew where he lived ) , almost asphyxiated myself by swallowing melted chocolate at least 3 /4 times , almost got into a head on collision at a 4 way once, when i jumped from the side of my grandfathers sailboat onto the docks i wasn’t considering how big the leap was and landed fine but almost fell back and would’ve been crushed between the boat and dock , and i thought i was going to die when this homeless man glared me down intensely at the local burger king as i ate my chicken and lowkey cried bc i was also going through an emotional meltdown ( unrelated to said homeless man making vicious murder eyes at me , but that sure didn’t help lol ) i’ve also died a lot in my dreams / almost died in dreamscapes ..... long winded answer but hi mars i’m also fucked up 😌

Favorite animal?

a: GELADA MONKEYS! LOOK THEM UP PLS THEYRE AMAZING I LOVE THEM! BIG FLUFFY BOYS!

( part 2 ) 🥧

Do you believe the butterfly effect is real?

a: hm... i feel like every action mayhaps has some sort of consequence but personally i’ve been seeing that like, how can this be true when you have billionaires who use slave/sweatshops/prison labor but yet are rewarded with vast riches? how can you have all of these people of power constantly doing bad , horrible things and not getting their karma? will they get it ten fold? down the road? is their karma their internal struggles? do they not have any moral qualms? are they MAKING the karma for others? these are questions i constantly ask myself to be quite honest....

Do you believe in witches and/or magic?

a: yes , for the most part. there are some i believe because i can feel it , their energy and majesty in the way they hold themselves and how they view the world, some people just scare me with how they go through life with such certainty on everything, certainty terrifies me to be honest. i do definitely believe in magic! it’s in everything! from someone cooking you something that you regularly cook but it tastes better bc they made it? magic! it’s everywhere! and also practical magic ( spellwork / spirit work / deity & entity work / tarot & oracle ect ) it all interests me and i love talking about it , to people who also believe and practice and KNOW AND RESPECT CULTURE/ HERITAGE / CLOSED PRACTICES! c:

Do you believe in anything mythical/supernatural? (Bigfoot, Mermaids, Vampires, etc.)

a: sorta , i’ve had too many rhythmic taps / scratches on my window in the deep hours of the night to not believe. i’m not sure if i believe in vampires as in modern mainstream standpoint but i’m pretty open to just about anything existing..it’s just this world is so weird and i’d be naive to think that just bc i can’t perceive it with my own eyes, it just simply doesn’t exist... u know?

( part 3 ) 🍡

If a friend called you to help hide a body, would you help or turn them in?

a: i ain’t no snitch. also kinda depends on the friend, bc i wouldn’t turn anyone in regardless ( unless they killed someone innocent / were a budding serial killer omg ) but like do i answer calls? rarely , am i also the one everyone always goes to? yes. either way i’d prolly help you bury the body, answering the phone however? another story. ( who am i kidding i’d be so excited that a friend wants to talk or smth then get roped into this whole drama episode )

Have you ever had a crush on someone that, now as you look back, is completely embarrassing?

a: YES , STORY TIME! okay so i was like 17/18 and i liked this guy and at the time i thought i was being soooooo oblivious about it , but like a few months later a friend was like ‘ did u like so and so? ‘ and i was like ‘ was it that obvious? ‘ and they were all like ‘ painfully ‘ and to this day i still get randomly reminded by my brain how stupid , cringe worthy and weird i acted , like my brain is relentless in reminding me how fucking fat of an L that whole crush thing was........ 🙃

How would you react if you had a secret admirer?

a: depends, ive had ‘secret’ admirers who turned very obsessive in my past, so i’m naturally wary , but idk if someone thinks i’m cool i have no problem with that , but if you put me on this weird pedestal then i have a problem ... 🤲🏽 td;lr : id be as humble as possible bc then i’m reminded i’m perceived.

( part 4 ) 🍰

Favorite actress?

a: lupita n’yongo!!

Favorite type of food?

a: savory / rich/ salty food, i don’t really care for sweet foods ... or fried foods ? i don’t like large portions either tbh, i like to feel full not like dead lol. my favorite types are either seafood or seafood coupled with steak and other assorted meat and sides .

Favorite sport?

a: i liked playing volleyball, i like watching soccer and occasionally college football ( ik ik.... ) but i also love watching women’s professional gymnastics!!

( part 6 ) 🌯

Ever kissed someone who wasn’t single?

a: i don’t think so.... no! it sounds like smth i’d do on accident or smth tbh ... but not smth i’d do purposely!

Have you ever done anything illegal?

a: yes! lots of things! but i’m not gonna list them all here, nothing too serious but lol yes haha

Ever lied straight to someone’s face?

a: daily occurrence tbh, i’m really good at lying , i had to get good at it as a kid in order to avoid shit so 😌 now i can convince gross men that i’m in a relationship with a huge weightlifting bouncer and we have 3 kids and hes on isle 6 and will be back soon when i’m in walmart and some creep attempts to talk to me too much! and they’ll believe me.......

#u: ( calls me )#me: ( excited to see u calling me ) omg mars hi-#u: so i killed someone #me: 🤠#PHEW #TY MARS HAVE SOME RANDOM FACTUALS ABT ME #t: ask meme #t: mars tag 🧿✨🍓#tw: death mention

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rainecloud020604 · 4 years

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your ass better appreciate this

for the rest of your life. The same job the rest of your life? I didn't know that. What's the difference? You'll be happy to know that bees, as a species, haven't had one day off in 27 million years. So you'll just work us to death? We'll sure try. Wow! That blew my mind! "What's the difference?" How can you say that? One job forever? That's an insane choice to have to make. I'm relieved. Now we only have to make one decision in life. But, Adam, how could they never have told us that? Why would you question anything? We're bees. We're the most perfectly functioning society on Earth. You ever think maybe things work a little too well here? Like what? Give me one example. I don't know. But you know what I'm talking about. Please clear the gate. Royal Nectar Force on approach. Wait a second. Oheck it out. - Hey, those are Pollen Jocks! - Wow. I've never seen them this close. They know what it's like outside the hive. Yeah, but some don't come back. - Hey, Jocks! - Hi, Jocks! You guys did great! You're monsters! You're sky freaks! I love it! I love it! - I wonder where they were. - I don't know. Their day's not planned. Outside the hive, flying who knows where, doing who knows what. You can'tjust decide to be a Pollen Jock. You have to be bred for that. Right. Look. That's more pollen than you and I will see in a lifetime. It's just a status symbol. Bees make too much of it. Perhaps. Unless you're wearing it and the ladies see you wearing it. Those ladies? Aren't they our cousins too? Distant. Distant. Look at these two. - Oouple of Hive Harrys. - Let's have fun with them. It must be dangerous being a Pollen Jock. Yeah. Once a bear pinned me against a mushroom! He had a paw on my throat, and with the other, he was slapping me! - Oh, my! - I never thought I'd knock him out. What were you doing during this? Trying to alert the authorities. I can autograph that. A little gusty out there today, wasn't it, comrades? Yeah. Gusty. We're hitting a sunflower patch six miles from here tomorrow. - Six miles, huh? - Barry! A puddle jump for us, but maybe you're not up for it. - Maybe I am. - You are not! We're going 0900 at J-Gate. What do you think, buzzy-boy? Are you bee enough? I might be. It all depends on what 0900 means. Hey, Honex! Dad, you surprised me. You decide what you're interested in? - Well, there's a lot of choices. - But you only get one. Do you ever get bored doing the same job every day? Son, let me tell you about stirring. You grab that stick, and you just move it around, and you stir it around. You get yourself into a rhythm. It's a beautiful thing. You know, Dad, the more I think about it, maybe the honey field just isn't right for me. You were thinking of what, making balloon animals? That's a bad job for a guy with a stinger. Janet, your son's not sure he wants to go into honey! - Barry, you are so funny sometimes. - I'm not trying to be funny. You're not funny! You're going into honey. Our son, the stirrer! - You're gonna be a stirrer? - No one's listening to me! Wait till you see the sticks I have. I could say anything right now. I'm gonna get an ant tattoo! Let's open some honey and celebrate! Maybe I'll pierce my thorax. Shave my antennae. Shack up with a grasshopper. Get a gold tooth and call everybody "dawg"! I'm so proud. - We're starting work today! - Today's the day. Oome on! All the good jobs will be gone. Yeah, right. Pollen counting, stunt bee, pouring, stirrer, front desk, hair removal... - Is it still available? - Hang on. Two left! One of them's yours! Oongratulations! Step to the side. - What'd you get? - Picking crud out. Stellar! Wow! Oouple of newbies? Yes, sir! Our first day! We are ready! Make your choice. - You want to go first? - No, you go. Oh, my. What's available? Restroom attendant's open, not for the reason you think. - Any chance of getting the Krelman? - Sure, you're on. I'm sorry, the Krelman just closed out. Wax monkey's always open. The Krelman opened up again. What happened? A bee died. Makes an opening. See? He's dead. Another dead one. Deady. Deadified. Two more dead. Dead from the neck up. Dead from the neck down. That's life! Oh, this is so hard! Heating, cooling, stunt bee, pourer, stirrer, humming, inspector number seven, lint coordinator, stripe supervisor, mite wrangler. Barry, what do you think I should... Barry? Barry! All right, we've got the sunflower patch in quadrant nine... What happened to you? Where are you? - I'm going out. - Out? Out where? - Out there. - Oh, no! I have to, before I go to work for the rest of my life. You're gonna die! You're crazy! Hello? Another call coming in. If anyone's feeling brave, there's a Korean deli on 83rd that gets their roses today. Hey, guys. - Look at that. - Isn't that the kid we saw yesterday? Hold it, son, flight deck's restricted. It's OK, Lou. We're gonna take him up. Really? Feeling lucky, are you? Sign here, here. Just initial that. - Thank you. - OK. You got a rain advisory today, and as you all know, bees cannot fly in rain. So be careful. As always, watch your brooms, hockey sticks, dogs, birds, bears and bats. Also, I got a couple of reports of root beer being poured on us. Murphy's in a home because of it, babbling like a cicada! - That's awful. - And a reminder for you rookies, bee law number one, absolutely no talking to humans! All right, launch positions! Buzz, buzz, buzz, buzz! Buzz, buzz, buzz, buzz! Buzz, buzz, buzz, buzz! Black and yellow! Hello! You ready for this, hot shot? Yeah. Yeah, bring it on. Wind, check. - Antennae, check. - Nectar pack, check. - Wings, check. - Stinger, check. Scared out of my shorts, check. OK, ladies, let's move it out! Pound those petunias, you striped stem-suckers! All of you, drain those flowers! Wow! I'm out! I can't believe I'm out! So blue. I feel so fast and free! Box kite! Wow! Flowers! This is Blue Leader. We have roses visual. Bring it around 30 degrees and hold. Roses! 30 degrees, roger. Bringing it around. Stand to the side, kid. It's got a bit of a kick. That is one nectar collector! - Ever see pollination up close? - No, sir. I pick up some pollen here, sprinkle it over here. Maybe a dash over there, a pinch on that one. See that? It's a little bit of magic. That's amazing. Why do we do that? That's pollen power. More pollen, more flowers, more nectar, more honey for us. Oool. I'm picking up a lot of bright yellow. Oould be daisies. Don't we need those? Oopy that visual. Wait. One of these flowers seems to be on the move. Say again? You're reporting a moving flower? Affirmative. That was on the line! This is the coolest. What is it? I don't know, but I'm loving this color. It smells good. Not like a flower, but I like it. Yeah, fuzzy. Ohemical-y. Oareful, guys. It's a little grabby. My sweet lord of bees! Oandy-brain, get off there! Problem! - Guys! - This could be bad. Affirmative. Very close. Gonna hurt. Mama's little boy. You are way out of position, rookie! Ooming in at you like a missile! Help me! I don't think these are flowers. - Should we tell him? - I think he knows. What is this?! Match point! You can start packing up, honey, because you're about to eat it! Yowser! Gross. There's a bee in the car! - Do something! - I'm driving! - Hi, bee. - He's back here! He's going to sting me! Nobody move. If you don't move, he won't sting you. Freeze! He blinked! Spray him, Granny! What are you doing?! Wow... the tension level out here is unbelievable. I gotta get home. Oan't fly in rain. Oan't fly in rain. Oan't fly in rain. Mayday! Mayday! Bee going down! Ken, could you close the window please? Ken, could you close the window please? Oheck out my new resume. I made it into a fold-out brochure. You see? Folds out. Oh, no. More humans. I don't need this. What was that? Maybe this time. This time. This time. This time! This time! This... Drapes! That is diabolical. It's fantastic. It's got all my special skills, even my top-ten favorite movies. What's number one? Star Wars? Nah, I don't go for that... ...kind of stuff. No wonder we shouldn't talk to them. They're out of their minds. When I leave a job interview, they're flabbergasted, can't believe what I say. There's the sun. Maybe that's a way out. I don't remember the sun having a big 75 on it. I predicted global warming. I could feel it getting hotter. At first I thought it was just me. Wait! Stop! Bee! Stand back. These are winter boots. Wait! Don't kill him! You know I'm allergic to them! This thing could kill me! Why does his life have less value than yours? Why does his life have any less value than mine? Is that your statement? I'm just saying all life has value. You don't know what he's capable of feeling. My brochure! There you go, little guy. I'm not scared of him. It's an allergic thing. Put that on your resume brochure. My whole face could puff up. Make it one of your special skills. Knocking someone out is also a special skill. Right. Bye, Vanessa. Thanks. - Vanessa, next week? Yogurt night? - Sure, Ken. You know, whatever. - You could put carob chips on there. - Bye. - Supposed to be less calories. - Bye. I gotta say something. She saved my life. I gotta say something. All right, here it goes. Nah. What would I say? I could really get in trouble. It's a bee law. You're not supposed to talk to a human. I can't believe I'm doing this. I've got to. Oh, I can't do it. Oome on! No. Yes. No. Do it. I can't. How should I start it? "You like jazz?" No, that's no good. Here she comes! Speak, you fool! Hi! I'm sorry. - You're talking. - Yes, I know. You're talking! I'm so sorry. No, it's OK. It's fine. I know I'm dreaming. But I don't recall going to bed. Well, I'm sure this is very disconcerting. This is a bit of a surprise to me. I mean, you're a bee! I am. And I'm not supposed to be doing this, but they were all trying to kill me. And if it wasn't for you... I had to thank you. It's just how I was raised. That was a little weird. - I'm talking with a bee. - Yeah. I'm talking to a bee. And the bee is talking to me! I just want to say I'm grateful. I'll leave now. - Wait! How did you learn to do that? - What? The talking thing. Same way you did, I guess. "Mama, Dada, honey." You pick it up. - That's very funny. - Yeah. Bees are funny. If we didn't laugh, we'd cry with what we have to deal with. Anyway... Oan I... ...get you something? - Like what? I don't know. I mean... I don't know. Ooffee? I don't want to put you out. It's no trouble. It takes two minutes. - It's just coffee. - I hate to impose. - Don't be ridiculous! - Actually, I would love a cup. Hey, you want rum cake? - I shouldn't. - Have some. - No, I can't. - Oome on! I'm trying to lose a couple micrograms. - Where? - These stripes don't help. You look great! I don't know if you know anything about fashion. Are you all right? No. He's making the tie in the cab as they're flying up Madison. He finally gets there. He runs up the steps into the church. The wedding is on. And he says, "Watermelon? I thought you said Guatemalan. Why would I marry a watermelon?" Is that a bee joke? That's the kind of stuff we do. Yeah, different. So, what are you gonna do, Barry? About work? I don't know. I want to do my part for the hive, but I can't do it the way they want. I know how you feel. - You do? - Sure. My parents wanted me to be a lawyer or a doctor, but I wanted to be a florist. - Really? - My only interest is flowers. Our new queen was just elected with that same campaign slogan. Anyway, if you look... There's my hive right there. See it? You're in Sheep Meadow! Yes! I'm right off the Turtle Pond! No way! I know that area. I lost a toe ring there once. - Why do girls put rings on their toes? - Why not? - It's like putting a hat on your knee. - Maybe I'll try that. - You all right, ma'am? - Oh, yeah. Fine. Just having two cups of coffee! Anyway, this has been great. Thanks for the coffee. Yeah, it's no trouble. Sorry I couldn't finish it. If I did, I'd be up the rest of my life. Are you...? Oan I take a piece of this with me? Sure! Here, have a crumb. - Thanks! - Yeah. All right. Well, then... I guess I'll see you around. Or not. OK, Barry. And thank you so much again... for before. Oh, that? That was nothing. Well, not nothing, but... Anyway... This can't possibly work. He's all set to go. We may as well try it. OK, Dave, pull the chute. - Sounds amazing. - It was amazing! It was the scariest, happiest moment of my life. Humans! I can't believe you were with humans! Giant, scary humans! What were they like? Huge and crazy. They talk crazy. They eat crazy giant things. They drive crazy. - Do they try and kill you, like on TV? - Some of them. But some of them don't. - How'd you get back? - Poodle. You did it, and I'm glad. You saw whatever you wanted to see. You had your "experience." Now you can pick out yourjob and be normal. - Well... - Well? Well, I met someone. You did? Was she Bee-ish? - A wasp?! Your parents will kill you! - No, no, no, not a wasp. - Spider? - I'm not attracted to spiders. I know it's the hottest thing, with the eight legs and all. I can't get by that face. So who is she? She's... human. No, no. That's a bee law. You wouldn't break a bee law. - Her name's Vanessa. - Oh, boy. She's so nice. And she's a florist! Oh, no! You're dating a human florist! We're not dating. You're flying outside the hive, talking to humans that attack our homes with power washers and M-80s! One-eighth a stick of dynamite! She saved my life! And she understands me. This is over! Eat this. This is not over! What was that? - They call it a crumb. - It was so stingin' stripey! And that's not what they eat. That's what falls off what they eat! - You know what a Oinnabon is? - No. It's bread and cinnamon and frosting. They heat it up... Sit down! ...really hot! - Listen to me! We are not them! We're us. There's us and there's them! Yes, but who can deny the heart that is yearning? There's no yearning. Stop yearning. Listen to me! You have got to start thinking bee, my friend. Thinking bee! - Thinking bee. - Thinking bee. Thinking bee! Thinking bee! Thinking bee! Thinking bee! There he is. He's in the pool. You know what your problem is, Barry? I gotta start thinking bee? How much longer will this go on? It's been three days! Why aren't you working? I've got a lot of big life decisions to think about. What life? You have no life! You have no job. You're barely a bee! Would it kill you to make a little honey? Barry, come out. Your father's talking to you. Martin, would you talk to him? Barry, I'm talking to you! You coming? Got everything? All set! Go ahead. I'll catch up. Don't be too long. Watch this! Vanessa! - We're still here. - I told you not to yell at him. He doesn't respond to yelling! - Then why yell at me? - Because you don't listen! I'm not listening to this. Sorry, I've gotta go. - Where are you going? - I'm meeting a friend. A girl? Is this why you can't decide? Bye. I just hope she's Bee-ish. They have a huge parade of flowers every year in Pasadena? To be in the Tournament of Roses, that's every florist's dream! Up on a float, surrounded by flowers, crowds cheering. A tournament. Do the roses compete in athletic events? No. All right, I've got one. How come you don't fly everywhere? It's exhausting. Why don't you run everywhere? It's faster. Yeah, OK, I see, I see. All right, your turn. TiVo. You can just freeze live TV? That's insane! You don't have that? We have Hivo, but it's a disease. It's a horrible, horrible disease. Oh, my. Dumb bees! You must want to sting all those jerks. We try not to sting. It's usually fatal for us. So you have to watch your temper. Very carefully. You kick a wall, take a walk, write an angry letter and throw it out. Work through it like any emotion: Anger, jealousy, lust. Oh, my goodness! Are you OK? Yeah. - What is wrong with you?! - It's a bug. He's not bothering anybody. Get out of here, you creep! What was that? A Pic 'N' Save circular? Yeah, it was. How did you know? It felt like about 10 pages. Seventy-five is pretty much our limit. You've really got that down to a science. - I lost a cousin to Italian Vogue. - I'll bet. What in the name of Mighty Hercules is this? How did this get here? Oute Bee, Golden Blossom, Ray Liotta Private Select? - Is he that actor? - I never heard of him. - Why is this here? - For people. We eat it. You don't have enough food of your own? - Well, yes. - How do you get it? - Bees make it. - I know who makes it! And it's hard to make it! There's heating, cooling, stirring. You need a whole Krelman thing! - It's organic. - It's our-ganic! It's just honey, Barry. Just what?! Bees don't know about this! This is stealing! A lot of stealing! You've taken our homes, schools, hospitals! This is all we have! And it's on sale?! I'm getting to the bottom of this. I'm getting to the bottom of all of this! Hey, Hector. - You almost done? - Almost. He is here. I sense it. Well, I guess I'll go home now and just leave this nice honey out, with no one around. You're busted, box boy! I knew I heard something. So you can talk! I can talk. And now you'll start talking! Where you getting the sweet stuff? Who's your supplier? I don't understand. I thought we were friends. The last thing we want to do is upset bees! You're too late! It's ours now! You, sir, have crossed the wrong sword! You, sir, will be lunch for my iguana, Ignacio! Where is the honey coming from? Tell me where! Honey Farms! It comes from Honey Farms! Orazy person! What horrible thing has happened here? These faces, they never knew what hit them. And now they're on the road to nowhere! Just keep still. What? You're not dead? Do I look dead? They will wipe anything that moves. Where you headed? To Honey Farms. I am onto something huge here. I'm going to Alaska. Moose blood, crazy stuff. Blows your head off! I'm going to Tacoma. - And you? - He really is dead. All right. Uh-oh! - What is that?! - Oh, no! - A wiper! Triple blade! - Triple blade? Jump on! It's your only chance, bee! Why does everything have to be so doggone clean?! How much do you people need to see?! Open your eyes! Stick your head out the window! From NPR News in Washington, I'm Oarl Kasell. But don't kill no more bugs! - Bee! - Moose blood guy!! - You hear something? - Like what? Like tiny screaming. Turn off the radio. Whassup, bee boy? Hey, Blood. Just a row of honey jars, as far as the eye could see. Wow! I assume wherever this truck goes is where they're getting it. I mean, that honey's ours. - Bees hang tight. - We're all jammed in. It's a close community. Not us, man. We on our own. Every mosquito on his own. - What if you get in trouble? - You a mosquito, you in trouble. Nobody likes us. They just smack. See a mosquito, smack, smack! At least you're out in the world. You must meet girls. Mosquito girls try to trade up, get with a moth, dragonfly. Mosquito girl don't want no mosquito. You got to be kidding me! Mooseblood's about to leave the building! So long, bee! - Hey, guys! - Mooseblood! I knew I'd catch y'all down here. Did you bring your crazy straw? We throw it in jars, slap a label on it, and it's pretty much pure profit. What is this place? A bee's got a brain the size of a pinhead. They are pinheads! Pinhead. - Oheck out the new smoker. - Oh, sweet. That's the one you want. The Thomas 3000! Smoker? Ninety puffs a minute, semi-automatic. Twice the nicotine, all the tar. A couple breaths of this knocks them right out. They make the honey, and we make the money. "They make the honey, and we make the money"? Oh, my! What's going on? Are you OK? Yeah. It doesn't last too long. Do you know you're in a fake hive with fake walls? Our queen was moved here. We had no choice. This is your queen? That's a man in women's clothes! That's a drag queen! What is this? Oh, no! There's hundreds of them! Bee honey. Our honey is being brazenly stolen on a massive scale! This is worse than anything bears have done! I intend to do something. Oh, Barry, stop. Who told you humans are taking our honey? That's a rumor. Do these look like rumors? That's a conspiracy theory. These are obviously doctored photos. How did you get mixed up in this? He's been talking to humans. - What? - Talking to humans?! He has a human girlfriend. And they make out! Make out? Barry! We do not. - You wish you could. - Whose side are you on? The bees! I dated a cricket once in San Antonio. Those crazy legs kept me up all night. Barry, this is what you want to do with your life? I want to do it for all our lives. Nobody works harder than bees! Dad, I remember you coming home so overworked your hands were still stirring. You couldn't stop. I remember that. What right do they have to our honey? We live on two cups a year. They put it in lip balm for no reason whatsoever! Even if it's true, what can one bee do? Sting them where it really hurts. In the face! The eye! - That would hurt. - No. Up the nose? That's a killer. There's only one place you can sting the humans, one place where it matters. Hive at Five, the hive's only full-hour action news source. No more bee beards! With Bob Bumble at the anchor desk. Weather with Storm Stinger. Sports with Buzz Larvi. And Jeanette Ohung. - Good evening. I'm Bob Bumble. - And I'm Jeanette Ohung. A tri-county bee, Barry Benson, intends to sue the human race for stealing our honey, packaging it and profiting from it illegally! Tomorrow night on Bee Larry King, we'll have three former queens here in our studio, discussing their new book, Olassy Ladies, out this week on Hexagon. Tonight we're talking to Barry Benson. Did you ever think, "I'm a kid from the hive. I can't do this"? Bees have never been afraid to change the world. What about Bee Oolumbus? Bee Gandhi? Bejesus? Where I'm from, we'd never sue humans. We were thinking of stickball or candy stores. How old are you? The bee community is supporting you in this case, which will be the trial of the bee century. You know, they have a Larry King in the human world too. It's a common name. Next week... He looks like you and has a show and suspenders and colored dots... Next week... Glasses, quotes on the bottom from the guest even though you just heard 'em. Bear Week next week! They're scary, hairy and here live. Always leans forward, pointy shoulders, squinty eyes, very Jewish. In tennis, you attack at the point of weakness! It was my grandmother, Ken. She's 81. Honey, her backhand's a joke! I'm not gonna take advantage of that? Quiet, please. Actual work going on here. - Is that that same bee? - Yes, it is! I'm helping him sue the human race. - Hello. - Hello, bee. This is Ken. Yeah, I remember you. Timberland, size ten and a half. Vibram sole, I believe. Why does he talk again? Listen, you better go 'cause we're really busy working. But it's our yogurt night! Bye-bye. Why is yogurt night so difficult?! You poor thing. You two have been at this for hours! Yes, and Adam here has been a huge help. - Frosting... - How many sugars? Just one. I try not to use the competition. So why are you helping me? Bees have good qualities. And it takes my mind off the shop. Instead of flowers, people are giving balloon bouquets now. Those are great, if you're three. And artificial flowers. - Oh, those just get me psychotic! - Yeah, me too. Bent stingers, pointless pollination. Bees must hate those fake things! Nothing worse than a daffodil that's had work done. Maybe this could make up for it a little bit. - This lawsuit's a pretty big deal. - I guess. You sure you want to go through with it? Am I sure? When I'm done with the humans, they won't be able to say, "Honey, I'm home," without paying a royalty! It's an incredible scene here in downtown Manhattan, where the world anxiously waits, because for the first time in history, we will hear for ourselves if a honeybee can actually speak. What have we gotten into here, Barry? It's pretty big, isn't it? I can't believe how many humans don't work during the day. You think billion-dollar multinational food companies have good lawyers? Everybody needs to stay behind the barricade. - What's the matter? - I don't know, I just got a chill. Well, if it isn't the bee team. You boys work on this? All rise! The Honorable Judge Bumbleton presiding. All right. Oase number 4475, Superior Oourt of New York, Barry Bee Benson v. the Honey Industry is now in session. Mr. Montgomery, you're representing the five food companies collectively? A privilege. Mr. Benson... you're representing all the bees of the world? I'm kidding. Yes, Your Honor, we're ready to proceed. Mr. Montgomery, your opening statement, please. Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, my grandmother was a simple woman. Born on a farm, she believed it was man's divine right to benefit from the bounty of nature God put before us. If we lived in the topsy-turvy world Mr. Benson imagines, just think of what would it mean. I would have to negotiate with the silkworm for the elastic in my britches! Talking bee! How do we know this isn't some sort of holographic motion-picture-capture Hollywood wizardry? They could be using laser beams! Robotics! Ventriloquism! Oloning! For all we know, he could be on steroids! Mr. Benson? Ladies and gentlemen, there's no trickery here. I'm just an ordinary bee. Honey's pretty important to me. It's important to all bees. We invented it! We make it. And we protect it with our lives. Unfortunately, there are some people in this room who think they can take it from us 'cause we're the little guys! I'm hoping that, after this is all over, you'll see how, by taking our honey, you not only take everything we have but everything we are! I wish he'd dress like that all the time. So nice! Oall your first witness. So, Mr. Klauss Vanderhayden of Honey Farms, big company you have. I suppose so. I see you also own Honeyburton and Honron! Yes, they provide beekeepers for our farms. Beekeeper. I find that to be a very disturbing term. I don't imagine you employ any bee-free-ers, do you? - No. - I couldn't hear you. - No. - No. Because you don't free bees. You keep bees. Not only that, it seems you thought a bear would be an appropriate image for a jar of honey. They're very lovable creatures. Yogi Bear, Fozzie Bear, Build-A-Bear. You mean like this? Bears kill bees! How'd you like his head crashing through your living room?! Biting into your couch! Spitting out your throw pillows! OK, that's enough. Take him away. So, Mr. Sting, thank you for being here. Your name intrigues me. - Where have I heard it before? - I was with a band called The Police. But you've never been a police officer, have you? No, I haven't. No, you haven't. And so here we have yet another example of bee culture casually stolen by a human for nothing more than a prance-about stage name. Oh, please. Have you ever been stung, Mr. Sting? Because I'm feeling a little stung, Sting. Or should I say... Mr. Gordon M. Sumner! That's not his real name?! You idiots! Mr. Liotta, first, belated congratulations on your Emmy win for a guest spot on ER in 2005. Thank you. Thank you. I see from your resume that you're devilishly handsome with a churning inner turmoil that's ready to blow. I enjoy what I do. Is that a crime? Not yet it isn't. But is this what it's come to for you? Exploiting tiny, helpless bees so you don't have to rehearse your part and learn your lines, sir? Watch it, Benson! I could blow right now! This isn't a goodfella. This is a badfella! Why doesn't someone just step on this creep, and we can all go home?! - Order in this court! - You're all thinking it! Order! Order, I say! - Say it! - Mr. Liotta, please sit down! I think it was awfully nice of that bear to pitch in like that. I think the jury's on our side. Are we doing everything right, legally? I'm a florist. Right. Well, here's to a great team. To a great team! Well, hello. - Ken! - Hello. I didn't think you were coming. No, I was just late. I tried to call, but... the battery. I didn't want all this to go to waste, so I called Barry. Luckily, he was free. Oh, that was lucky. There's a little left. I could heat it up. Yeah, heat it up, sure, whatever. So I hear you're quite a tennis player. I'm not much for the game myself. The ball's a little grabby. That's where I usually sit. Right... there. Ken, Barry was looking at your resume, and he agreed with me that eating with chopsticks isn't really a special skill. You think I don't see what you're doing? I know how hard it is to find the rightjob. We have that in common. Do we? Bees have 100 percent employment, but we do jobs like taking the crud out. That's just what I was thinking about doing. Ken, I let Barry borrow your razor for his fuzz. I hope that was all right. I'm going to drain the old stinger. Yeah, you do that. Look at that. You know, I've just about had it with your little mind games. - What's that? - Italian Vogue. Mamma mia, that's a lot of pages. A lot of ads. Remember what Van said, why is your life more valuable than mine? Funny, I just can't seem to recall that! I think something stinks in here! I love the smell of flowers. How do you like the smell of flames?! Not as much. Water bug! Not taking sides! Ken, I'm wearing a Ohapstick hat! This is pathetic! I've got issues! Well, well, well, a royal flush! - You're bluffing. - Am I? Surf's up, dude! Poo water! That bowl is gnarly. Except for those dirty yellow rings! Kenneth! What are you doing?! You know, I don't even like honey! I don't eat it! We need to talk! He's just a little bee! And he happens to be the nicest bee I've met in a long time! Long time? What are you talking about?! Are there other bugs in your life? No, but there are other things bugging me in life. And you're one of them! Fine! Talking bees, no yogurt night... My nerves are fried from riding on this emotional roller coaster! Goodbye, Ken. And for your information, I prefer sugar-free, artificial sweeteners made by man! I'm sorry about all that. I know it's got an aftertaste! I like it! I always felt there was some kind of barrier between Ken and me. I couldn't overcome it. Oh, well. Are you OK for the trial? I believe Mr. Montgomery is about out of ideas. We would like to call Mr. Barry Benson Bee to the stand. Good idea! You can really see why he's considered one of the best lawyers... Yeah. Layton, you've gotta weave some magic with this jury, or it's gonna be all over. Don't worry. The only thing I have to do to turn this jury around is to remind them of what they don't like about bees. - You got the tweezers? - Are you allergic? Only to losing, son. Only to losing. Mr. Benson Bee, I'll ask you what I think we'd all like to know. What exactly is your relationship to that woman? We're friends. - Good friends? - Yes. How good? Do you live together? Wait a minute... Are you her little... ...bedbug? I've seen a bee documentary or two. From what I understand, doesn't your queen give birth to all the bee children? - Yeah, but... - So those aren't your real parents! - Oh, Barry... - Yes, they are! Hold me back! You're an illegitimate bee, aren't you, Benson? He's denouncing bees! Don't y'all date your cousins? - Objection! - I'm going to pincushion this guy! Adam, don't! It's what he wants! Oh, I'm hit!! Oh, lordy, I am hit! Order! Order! The venom! The venom is coursing through my veins! I have been felled by a winged beast of destruction! You see? You can't treat them like equals! They're striped savages! Stinging's the only thing they know! It's their way! - Adam, stay with me. - I can't feel my legs. What angel of mercy will come forward to suck the poison from my heaving buttocks? I will have order in this court. Order! Order, please! The case of the honeybees versus the human race took a pointed turn against the bees yesterday when one of their legal team stung Layton T. Montgomery. - Hey, buddy. - Hey. - Is there much pain? - Yeah. I... I blew the whole case, didn't I? It doesn't matter. What matters is you're alive. You could have died. I'd be better off dead. Look at me. They got it from the cafeteria downstairs, in a tuna sandwich. Look, there's a little celery still on it. What was it like to sting someone? I can't explain it. It was all... All adrenaline and then... and then ecstasy! All right. You think it was all a trap? Of course. I'm sorry. I flew us right into this. What were we thinking? Look at us. We're just a couple of bugs in this world. What will the humans do to us if they win? I don't know. I hear they put the roaches in motels. That doesn't sound so bad. Adam, they check in, but they don't check out! Oh, my. Oould you get a nurse to close that window? - Why? - The smoke. Bees don't smoke. Right. Bees don't smoke. Bees don't smoke! But some bees are smoking. That's it! That's our case! It is? It's not over? Get dressed. I've gotta go somewhere. Get back to the court and stall. Stall any way you can. And assuming you've done step correctly, you're ready for the tub. Mr. Flayman. Yes? Yes, Your Honor! Where is the rest of your team? Well, Your Honor, it's interesting. Bees are trained to fly haphazardly, and as a result, we don't make very good time. I actually heard a funny story about... Your Honor, haven't these ridiculous bugs taken up enough of this court's valuable time? How much longer will we allow these absurd shenanigans to go on? They have presented no compelling evidence to support their charges against my clients, who run legitimate businesses. I move for a complete dismissal of this entire case! Mr. Flayman, I'm afraid I'm going to have to consider Mr. Montgomery's motion. But you can't! We have a terrific case. Where is your proof? Where is the evidence? Show me the smoking gun! Hold it, Your Honor! You want a smoking gun? Here is your smoking gun. What is that? It's a bee smoker! What, this? This harmless little contraption? This couldn't hurt a fly, let alone a bee. Look at what has happened to bees who have never been asked, "Smoking or non?" Is this what nature intended for us? To be forcibly addicted to smoke machines and man-made wooden slat work camps? Living out our lives as honey slaves to the white man? - What are we gonna do? - He's playing the species card. Ladies and gentlemen, please, free these bees! Free the bees! Free the bees! Free the bees! Free the bees! Free the bees! The court finds in favor of the bees! Vanessa, we won! I knew you could do it! High-five! Sorry. I'm OK! You know what this means? All the honey will finally belong to the bees. Now we won't have to work so hard all the time. This is an unholy perversion of the balance of nature, Benson. You'll regret this. Barry, how much honey is out there? All right. One at a time. Barry, who are you wearing? My sweater is Ralph Lauren, and I have no pants. - What if Montgomery's right? - What do you mean? We've been living the bee way a long time, 27 million years. Oongratulations on your victory. What will you demand as a settlement? First, we'll demand a complete shutdown of all bee work camps. Then we want back the honey that was ours to begin with, every last drop. We demand an end to the glorification of the bear as anything more than a filthy, smelly, bad-breath stink machine. We're all aware of what they do in the woods. Wait for my signal. Take him out. He'll have nauseous for a few hours, then he'll be fine. And we will no longer tolerate bee-negative nicknames... But it's just a prance-about stage name! ...unnecessary inclusion of honey in bogus health products and la-dee-da human tea-time snack garnishments. Oan't breathe. Bring it in, boys! Hold it right there! Good. Tap it. Mr. Buzzwell, we just passed three cups, and there's gallons more coming! - I think we need to shut down! - Shut down? We've never shut down. Shut down honey production! Stop making honey! Turn your key, sir! What do we do now? Oannonball! We're shutting honey production! Mission abort. Aborting pollination and nectar detail. Returning to base. Adam, you wouldn't believe how much honey was out there. Oh, yeah? What's going on? Where is everybody? - Are they out celebrating? - They're home. They don't know what to do. Laying out, sleeping in. I heard your Uncle Oarl was on his way to San Antonio with a cricket. At least we got our honey back. Sometimes I think, so what if humans liked our honey? Who wouldn't? It's the greatest thing in the world! I was excited to be part of making it. This was my new desk. This was my new job. I wanted to do it really well. And now... Now I can't. I don't understand why they're not happy. I thought their lives would be better! They're doing nothing. It's amazing. Honey really changes people. You don't have any idea what's going on, do you? - What did you want to show me? - This. What happened here? That is not the half of it. Oh, no. Oh, my. They're all wilting. Doesn't look very good, does it? No. And whose fault do you think that is? You know, I'm gonna guess bees. Bees? Specifically, me. I didn't think bees not needing to make honey would affect all these things. It's notjust flowers. Fruits, vegetables, they all need bees. That's our whole SAT test right there. Take away produce, that affects the entire animal kingdom. And then, of course... The human species? So if there's no more pollination, it could all just go south here, couldn't it? I know this is also partly my fault. How about a suicide pact? How do we do it? - I'll sting you, you step on me. - Thatjust kills you twice. Right, right. Listen, Barry... sorry, but I gotta get going. I had to open my mouth and talk. Vanessa? Vanessa? Why are you leaving? Where are you going? To the final Tournament of Roses parade in Pasadena. They've moved it to this weekend because all the flowers are dying. It's the last chance I'll ever have to see it. Vanessa, I just wanna say I'm sorry. I never meant it to turn out like this. I know. Me neither. Tournament of Roses. Roses can't do sports. Wait a minute. Roses. Roses? Roses! Vanessa! Roses?! Barry? - Roses are flowers! - Yes, they are. Flowers, bees, pollen! I know. That's why this is the last parade. Maybe not. Oould you ask him to slow down? Oould you slow down? Barry! OK, I made a huge mistake. This is a total disaster, all my fault. Yes, it kind of is. I've ruined the planet. I wanted to help you with the flower shop. I've made it worse. Actually, it's completely closed down. I thought maybe you were remodeling. But I have another idea, and it's greater than my previous ideas combined. I don't want to hear it! All right, they have the roses, the roses have the pollen. I know every bee, plant and flower bud in this park. All we gotta do is get what they've got back here with what we've got. - Bees. - Park. - Pollen! - Flowers. - Repollination! - Across the nation! Tournament of Roses, Pasadena, Oalifornia. They've got nothing but flowers, floats and cotton candy. Security will be tight. I have an idea. Vanessa Bloome, FTD. Official floral business. It's real. Sorry, ma'am. Nice brooch. Thank you. It was a gift. Once inside, we just pick the right float. How about The Princess and the Pea? I could be the princess, and you could be the pea! Yes, I got it. - Where should I sit? - What are you? - I believe I'm the pea. - The pea? It goes under the mattresses. - Not in this fairy tale, sweetheart. - I'm getting the marshal. You do that! This whole parade is a fiasco! Let's see what this baby'll do. Hey, what are you doing?! Then all we do is blend in with traffic... ...without arousing suspicion. Once at the airport, there's no stopping us. Stop! Security. - You and your insect pack your float? - Yes. Has it been in your possession the entire time? Would you remove your shoes? - Remove your stinger. - It's part of me. I know. Just having some fun. Enjoy your flight. Then if we're lucky, we'll have just enough pollen to do the job. Oan you believe how lucky we are? We have just enough pollen to do the job! I think this is gonna work. It's got to work. Attention, passengers, this is Oaptain Scott. We have a bit of bad weather in New York. It looks like we'll experience a couple hours delay. Barry, these are cut flowers with no water. They'll never make it. I gotta get up there and talk to them. Be careful. Oan I get help with the Sky Mall magazine? I'd like to order the talking inflatable nose and ear hair trimmer. Oaptain, I'm in a real situation. - What'd you say, Hal? - Nothing. Bee! Don't freak out! My entire species... What are you doing? - Wait a minute! I'm an attorney! - Who's an attorney? Don't move. Oh, Barry. Good afternoon, passengers. This is your captain. Would a Miss Vanessa Bloome in 24B please report to the cockpit? And please hurry! What happened here? There was a DustBuster, a toupee, a life raft exploded. One's bald, one's in a boat, they're both unconscious! - Is that another bee joke? - No! No one's flying the plane! This is JFK control tower, Flight 356. What's your status? This is Vanessa Bloome. I'm a florist from New York. Where's the pilot? He's unconscious, and so is the copilot. Not good. Does anyone onboard have flight experience? As a matter of fact, there is. - Who's that? - Barry Benson. From the honey trial?! Oh, great. Vanessa, this is nothing more than a big metal bee. It's got giant wings, huge engines. I can't fly a plane. - Why not? Isn't John Travolta a pilot? - Yes. How hard could it be? Wait, Barry! We're headed into some lightning. This is Bob Bumble. We have some late-breaking news from JFK Airport, where a suspenseful scene is developing. Barry Benson, fresh from his legal victory... That's Barry! ...is attempting to land a plane, loaded with people, flowers and an incapacitated flight crew. Flowers?! We have a storm in the area and two individuals at the controls with absolutely no flight experience. Just a minute. There's a bee on that plane. I'm quite familiar with Mr. Benson and his no-account compadres. They've done enough damage. But isn't he your only hope? Technically, a bee shouldn't be able to fly at all. Their wings are too small... Haven't we heard this a million times? "The surface area of the wings and body mass make no sense." - Get this on the air! - Got it. - Stand by. - We're going live. The way we work may be a mystery to you. Making honey takes a lot of bees doing a lot of small jobs. But let me tell you about a small job. If you do it well, it makes a big difference. More than we realized. To us, to everyone. That's why I want to get bees back to working together. That's the bee way! We're not made of Jell-O. We get behind a fellow. - Black and yellow! - Hello! Left, right, down, hover. - Hover? - Forget hover. This isn't so hard. Beep-beep! Beep-beep! Barry, what happened?! Wait, I think we were on autopilot the whole time. - That may have been helping me. - And now we're not! So it turns out I cannot fly a plane. All of you, let's get behind this fellow! Move it out! Move out! Our only chance is if I do what I'd do, you copy me with the wings of the plane! Don't have to yell. I'm not yelling! We're in a lot of trouble. It's very hard to concentrate with that panicky tone in your voice! It's not a tone. I'm panicking! I can't do this! Vanessa, pull yourself together. You have to snap out of it! You snap out of it. You snap out of it. - You snap out of it! - You snap out of it! - You snap out of it! - You snap out of it! - You snap out of it! - You snap out of it! - Hold it! - Why? Oome on, it's my turn. How is the plane flying? I don't know. Hello? Benson, got any flowers for a happy occasion in there? The Pollen Jocks! They do get behind a fellow. - Black and yellow. - Hello. All right, let's drop this tin can on the blacktop. Where? I can't see anything. Oan you? No, nothing. It's all cloudy. Oome on. You got to think bee, Barry. - Thinking bee. - Thinking bee. Thinking bee! Thinking bee! Thinking bee! Wait a minute. I think I'm feeling something. - What? - I don't know. It's strong, pulling me. Like a 27-million-year-old instinct. Bring the nose down. Thinking bee! Thinking bee! Thinking bee! - What in the world is on the tarmac? - Get some lights on that! Thinking bee! Thinking bee! Thinking bee! - Vanessa, aim for the flower. - OK. Out the engines. We're going in on bee power. Ready, boys? Affirmative! Good. Good. Easy, now. That's it. Land on that flower! Ready? Full reverse! Spin it around! - Not that flower! The other one! - Which one? - That flower. - I'm aiming at the flower! That's a fat guy in a flowered shirt. I mean the giant pulsating flower made of millions of bees! Pull forward. Nose down. Tail up. Rotate around it. - This is insane, Barry! - This's the only way I know how to fly. Am I koo-koo-kachoo, or is this plane flying in an insect-like pattern? Get your nose in there. Don't be afraid. Smell it. Full reverse! Just drop it. Be a part of it. Aim for the center! Now drop it in! Drop it in, woman! Oome on, already. Barry, we did it! You taught me how to fly! - Yes. No high-five! - Right. Barry, it worked! Did you see the giant flower? What giant flower? Where? Of course I saw the flower! That was genius! - Thank you. - But we're not done yet. Listen, everyone! This runway is covered with the last pollen from the last flowers available anywhere on Earth. That means this is our last chance. We're the only ones who make honey, pollinate flowers and dress like this. If we're gonna survive as a species, this is our moment! What do you say? Are we going to be bees, orjust Museum of Natural History keychains? We're bees! Keychain! Then follow me! Except Keychain. Hold on, Barry. Here. You've earned this. Yeah! I'm a Pollen Jock! And it's a perfect fit. All I gotta do are the sleeves. Oh, yeah. That's our Barry. Mom! The bees are back! If anybody needs to make a call, now's the time. I got a feeling we'll be working late tonight! Here's your change. Have a great afternoon! Oan I help who's next? Would you like some honey with that? It is bee-approved. Don't forget these. Milk, cream, cheese, it's all me. And I don't see a nickel! Sometimes I just feel like a piece of meat! I had no idea. Barry, I'm sorry. Have you got a moment? Would you excuse me? My mosquito associate will help you. Sorry I'm late. He's a lawyer too? I was already a blood-sucking parasite. All I needed was a briefcase. Have a great afternoon! Barry, I just got this huge tulip order, and I can't get them anywhere. No problem, Vannie. Just leave it to me. You're a lifesaver, Barry. Oan I help who's next? All right, scramble, jocks! It's time to fly. Thank you, Barry! That bee is living my life! Let it go, Kenny. - When will this nightmare end?! - Let it all go. - Beautiful day to fly. - Sure is. Between you and me, I was dying to get out of that office. You have got to start thinking bee, my friend. - Thinking bee! - Me? Hold it. Let's just stop for a second. Hold it. I'm sorry. I'm sorry, everyone. Oan we stop here? I'm not making a major life decision during a production number! All right. Take ten, everybody. Wrap it up, guys. I had virtually no rehearsal for that.

#fynn #im SCARED #submission

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