#oh i have that fountain... ill make sure not to lose that piece but i feel like it could be replaced using heat activated boil plastic
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Waltz of the Vampire (Vampire x Reader)
Pairing: Fem!Fat!Reader/Fem!Vampire
Genre: Fantasy (Vaguely Historical/Renaissance)
Warnings: None
Word Count: 3469 words
Summary: You forcibly attend the ball of the rich family that has just moved to town, unexpectedly finding comfort with one of their daughters.
Request: Hey!! I love your writing a lot! Would you consider an elf or a vampire whatever suits your fancy with a fat fem!reader. I try hard not to hate my body but it can be really hard sometimes and I know a lot of people go through it not just plus size folks but... idk it’s my weakness and a huge comfort. Anyway I hope you have a awesome day!!!
A/N: I really loved writing this request, and after I finish Thicker than Water, I might make a part two.
Serena has been to a lot of parties. Too many, in her opinion, even over her 326-year span of life. Her matriarch, “Mother” as she is called by her and the coven, believes there is no such thing.
Every move they make is celebrated by a grand ball, invitations sent out to every available person. Mother claims it’s the best way for them to fit in, to hide in the crowd rather than the shadows.
Serena understands this, she’s seen it work wonder for their reputation time and time again, but she still does not like them.
Tonight is especially dreadful, a bad hunt the day before and a quick spat with her “brother” enough to sour the whole get together. Serena spends most of the night eluding suitors and dance partners, embracing a mysterious persona so she can enjoy some alone-time.
As she looks around at the dance floor, Serena concludes that she is not a fan of the new fashion statements of this era. A bit too strict, too formal, with precise lacings and starchy hoop skirts. It makes the dance floor too stuffy in her opinion, no room to twirl your fabric or move your limbs.
She sips on her special red wine, eye’s lazily perusing the hall for her siblings, hoping to gain some company, when she spots you. Selena is brought to a pause, mid-drink, as your embroidered skirt glimmers, catching the light as you twirl it across the room. Her eyes widen, determination peaked when she notices you don’t have a partner.
How beautiful.
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Oooh, I love this song.
You hum, unconsciously bouncing from side to side as your favorite piano piece begins to play. It’s a piece you have on your list to learn in the future, bubbly and cheerful with a bumpy melody and the option for a fun violin accompaniment.
The energy of the music quickly translates to the dance floor, where couple’s begin to giggle and improvise amidst the strict waltz and counted-steps. It’s a shame that it’s such a good piece because for the first time of the night, you really wish someone would ask you to dance.
When the news the MacArthur’s were throwing a huge welcoming ball had reached your household, your mother quickly began throwing together preparations for you to attend. You had sighed, set your feet in a preemptive ice bath, and ready for another boring night.
As a former socialite herself, from girlhood you were forced to attend party after party. While it had done as intended and transformed your sister into a perfect lady, it had the opposite effect on you. The stiffness of the hoop skirts, the suits, and all the damn people always stuffed up your throat and flushed your face. With your sister as the shining star, it was easy for you to slip into the shadows, and avoid the preening of your mother’s etiquette lessons.
Now, as a growing woman with more and more free-time, you used all of your abilities to avoid huge social gatherings. You found your place amongst small gatherings with local friends, sneaking wine from the cellar and telling stories in the freezing cold around a fire
But as the music increases it’s tempo, with flourishing skirts and plenty of laughter, you can’t help but lose yourself in the joviality of the gathering. The fancy dresses, the even fancier alcohol, and the decadent ballroom had you wondering if you had been missing out a bit.
If only Margaret and Min-Young were here, now that would be a party.
You giggle into your champagne, heels still tapping against the hardwood and hand slightly tossing your skirt back and forth. You easily fall back into your reclusive corner to avoid embarrassing eyes who may glance upon your solitude. But a tiny yelp escapes you when your heel accidentally digs into a foot. You whip around, faced already flushed red with embarrassment.
“Oh my goodness, I’m so sorry! I didn’t look where...I was…”
Behind you, dressed in a dark purple satin gown, is Serena Macarthur herself. She stands a solid two heads above you, hair done up in an immaculate up do and two shimmering ruby earrings dangling from her ears. Her face is serene, lips curled up in a bit of a smirk. You quickly jerk away and give a half-decent curtsy, noticing her beautiful black dancing shoes which you just stomped on. “I apologize, Miss Macarthur, I can’t believe I acted so foolishly. I didn’t realize-”
“Oh, there is no need to worry darling. I’m alright, no harm done.” She says, her voice low and musical, almost like a thrumming bass line. Her gloved hand is placed on your shoulder, the other slides up your neck and tilts up your chin to meet her eye line.
My god, she is stunning.
Her eyes are a color you’ve never seen before, not dissimilar to the sharp gemstones in her earrings. Serena’s makeup, simple yet sharp, does everything to accentuate the cardinal-red of her irises. You can feel the simmering blush heating up your skin as she continues to stare. “I was actually coming this way to speak to you, flower. It’s my fault really, for sneaking up on you.”
You shake your hands, nearly spilling over the champagne in your glass. “Oh no, it’s no problem. Like you said, no harm done”. You force a giggle, hastily taking a sip of your champagne. “May I ask what you wished to speak of?”
Serena smiles, a smirk which is just as sharp as the rest of her, though her eyes betray no slyness or ill-will. “I was going to enquire about your dress. I noticed it from across the room and was stunned by how enchanting it is.”
“Oh! Well, thank you very much.” You blush, unconsciously rubbing your finger over the embroidered flowers on the skirt. “I actually-”
“Whoops!”
In less than a second, you find yourself right next to Serena, as a drunk dancer trips and spills his drink all over the floor. You blink, brain not even fully processing what just happened, as you notice Serena’s arm on your elbow and the red wine splattered where you stood just moments ago.
Did she move me? But when-how did she-
“Sorry! Sorry about that.” The man slurs, sheepishly scratching the back of his head. His partner, a distressed young woman, grabs his elbow and forces him to stand straight. “Guess I’ve had too much.” His embarrassed partner chokes out a laugh as he continues to sway.
“Yes, it seems you have. Make sure to fix that, soon.”
Serena’s tone is barely above talking volume, but holds a command like a powerful shout, Both of the dancers jerk with surprise, furiously bowing as the female drags the man out of the hall.
Serena sighs, rubbing her forehead with exasperation. She turns toward you, smiles back on her face.
“Would you like to take this to the garden? Seems the party is getting a bit too rowdy for good conversation.”
You nod, still a bit befuddled by Serena’s quick mood change and even quicker reflexes. But you link elbows when she holds hers up in invitation nonetheless, following her outside.
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The Macarthur estate is beautiful, as expected, and the garden fits that image to a T. Even in the moonlight you can see the finely cultivated roses bushes which decorate it, along with the gleaming marble fountain and sitting space under an ornately decorated gazebo. The two of your heels click along the paved path as you walk towards the center, your half-empty drink still in hand.
“You were sadly interrupted, but you were mentioning something about the dress?”
You nod, taking another long sip of your champagne, hoping a little alcohol may temper your thoughts.
“Yes, I was just going to say that I made it myself.” Serena’s eyes grow wide, eyes darting up and down your attire, and you feel yourself fluster. “It’s a tradition in my family, you see. My great-great-grandmother was very diligent when it came to teaching her kids how to sew, even the boys, and it became such an insisted upon skill that all her children ended up making their own evening clothing for special occasions. It ended up filtering down that every child makes one special outfit themselves, for what occasion it doesn’t particularly matter, but something thatt is uniquely you.” You pull up the end of your skirt, pointing out the flower pattern. “I’ve always had a fondness for gardening, so I tried to incorporate that into my dress. Plus,” You smooth out your skirt, “Most party dresses I’ve found are a bit too restrictive for my tastes, I wanted something I could really get into some fun with, y’know?” You force a giggle, immediately wondering if that comment was a bit too salacious for high-society talk. Serena simply smirks, letting out a low chuckle of her own.
“I wholeheartedly agree. May I take a closer look?” She gestures to your skirt and you hastily nod. The two of you take a seat by the fountain, Serena’s glove accidentally brushing against your calf as she picks up your skirt. You try and control your shiver from the simple contact. She hums admirably as she runs along your work. “Such incredibly done Sunflowers, the detail you put in is astounding. And these are forget-me-nots, correct?”
“Oh yes, those are my favorite kind.” Serena’s hands continue to run along the linework, following the bumps and dips of each flower petal. “As you can see I had trouble with the lavender, what with the petals being so small.” Serena shakes her head, a fond smile on her face. She looks up at you, forcing you to hastily act as if you weren’t admiring her face.
“The work you put in makes them twice as beautiful, mistakes be damned.” You blush even harder, throwing your hand and taking a final sip of your champagne.
“Thank you very much, but I have a long way to go.”
Serena’s hand hasn’t left your skirt, now resting on her lap as she continues to look at you. You swallow the last droplets of champagne down your throat, trying to fill the silence.
“The band is incredible, did you hire them locally?” You stutter, setting down your glass. Serena continues to fiddle with your skirt.
“Some of them, yes, but the violinist is actually my older sister, Marigold.”
“Wow! Make sure to give her my compliments, she’s very talented.” Serena nods, before her eyes dart down your toes. As the music echoes out of the hall and into the garden, you had unconsciously begun to tap your toes to the beat. When she glances at you, she can see your head slightly bobbing, a content look painting your face. A small smile forces one on to hers.
How cute. She internally sighs, noting how soft the skin of your cheek looks, the nice curve of your jaw, and your adorable noise. The pulsing blood which would run down your throat, the crimson looking devine against your exposed collarbone and dripping below your breast line.
She stands up abruptly, forcing those evocative thoughts out of her mind. You were quite cute and good company, someone Serena would like to get to know. Sometimes the crossed wires of her brain confused attraction for bloodlust, mistaking the butterflies for hunger pains.. She is almost embarrassed; It was one of the common hurdles new vampires had to overcome, a bridge she thought she crossed years ago
You startle, looking up at her with innocent doe eyes. Serena holds out her hand, ignoring how she can hear your steady pulse, unintentionally matching the beat of the music.
“May I have this dance, fair lady?” She almost whispers, bowing slightly.
Your face flushes, nodding without a word, and slipping your bare hand into her glove.
Serena boldly grabs your hip and presses you against her, quickly taking the lead. Your brain fervently recalls all of your formal dancing lessons, pressing your head into her chest as she takes you along.
In her arms, following her perfected steps, that slithering self-consciousness sneaks back into your brain. Your logic tries to reason with it;
You wanted to dance, but now that this beautiful woman has gladly offered her hand, you want to stop?
But your insecurities are louder, screaming about every trip and every spare touch. This close, you can feel her firm musculature through the dress, spotting the hint of her bicep as she leads you. With her dainty and elegant hand on your side, you feel twice aware of your size underneath, every imperfection concealed by your dress.
You had fallen in love with this dress when making it, but had always been hesitant to wear it. You feared that once you put it on, that beautiful picture in your mind would shatter, leaving you forlorned of what could never be. Not with you wearing it, you had thought, avoiding your own mirror as you left.
“Something on your mind, flower?”
Serena whispers into your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. Your back jerks and contorts back into position, almost stepping your foot on hers. You shake your head furiously.
“Oh no! I-I just-” You stumble, trying to find an easy excuse, but are stopped when you take a look at her face.
She’s resplendent, even up close, not a hint of makeup to be seen. But across her cheeks, slightly faded from what looks like years away from the sun, are-
“My, you have such wonderful freckles.” You murmur, without a second thought.
Unbeknownst to you, if Serena could blush, she would. But the scrunched up look of embarrassment is telling, hinting that maybe this beautiful heiress has her own things she hides away.
“W-well, thank you.” She hastily utters, eyes averting from yours. It’s uncharacteristically shy and you can’t control the giggle that escapes you.
To give her some reprieve, you take your eyes off her face and trail them around the garden. They catch on the fountain, where the contrasting colors of your dresses stand out amidst the black. In the reflection, the two of you could not look more different. Serena stands a head above you, slim-fitted dark purple dress pulled across her curves, while your bright green dress cinches at the waist, flowing out like the flower's detailed skirt. It blows and beckons with every movement, brushing occasionally against your form and showing off the contours of your body.
Damn, you think, we look hot.
Just as fickle as it’s counterpoint, confidence quickly overtakes your mind, blocking out the noise of your doubt. You hold tight to your beautiful partner, in the beautiful dress that you made, and allow the happiness of this moment to exist uninterrupted, however short it may be.
The music increases its pace, the smooth line of a saxophone bringing up the energy. With a new burst of energy, you allow yourself to improvise amidst the strict waltz. You lift your weight off your heels and try to glide from step to step, like the fast-paced tango dancers your mother once took you to see. Serena matches your enthusiasm, gripping your waist, even lifting you a few inches off the ground when a particular chord strikes. Her fingers slightly tickle your ribs, an ecstatic giggle escaping you and you falter a misstep. Your mind almost stops, embarrassed by your stumble and that insecurity sneaking back in, but Serena follows your new tempo with grace, urging you along with improvisation.
Your bodies follow the music with abandon, ordered steps devolving into impassioned stamps and twists, Serena twirling you around as the violin and piano sing from afar. Your heart and mind are running on adrenaline. It’s like when you were little, letting out your energy in any way possible. Serena’s laughter is magical and for once you don’t detest your awkward snorts and chuckles.
As the music slows, the two of you near-tumble back into the fountain, taking a seat with heaving chests.
“Whew, I haven’t danced like that in a while!” You say, brushing a stray hair back behind your ear. Serena nods, patting her stomach as she continues to laugh.
“Me as well. I forgot how fun it could be, when you’re not counting your steps.”
“Oh good, you do that too. I always wondered how no one got dreadfully bored just saying 1-2-3 over and over.” You mutter, taking in a deep breath and patting her thigh. Your other hand drifts down to the fountain water, letting your fingertips brush across the top and inadvertently catching your reflection once more.
It’s not the most flattering angle, your shoulders slump and the water slightly distorted, and those intruding thoughts try to slip in once more.
Oh shut up, let us have this.
Your logic sighs, batting it away without another second thought.
As the two of you sit, your energy eventually begins to drift back down, your muscles slightly tired from that short burst of impact. You sneak a glance at Serena.
While her outfit is still immaculate, her updo shows the smallest signs of dishelevement, curly black hairs falling down above her ears. In a way, she’s more beautiful than ever.
“Me and some friends are actually getting together next week. The shepherd's daughter, Violet, is getting married and they are throwing a little shindig at the barn to celebrate. Do you want to come?”
Serena looks up at you, slightly surprised, face furrowed with that hidden bashfulness. But she nods nonetheless, shooting you a bright smile.
Still high off your dance, you just barely miss her large fangs, which glimmer under the moonlight.
You smile back, only startled when the large bell tower from the center of town chimes. Your head looks towards it’s large face and back towards the moon position. You’d guess it was midnight. Seems the two of you had lost track of time while dancing.
“Well, I should probably be going.” You say, standing up and brushing off your skirt. “I do have some gardening to attend to in the morning, going to need a solid amount of sleep. But,” You say, eyes demure and locked on your toes as Serena stands up, “I had a lot of fun tonight. More than usual, I would say.” You giggle, twirling a strand of your hair. Serena hmms in agreement.
“Me as well, flower. Your company has been the highlight of my night.”
In a bold move, Serena grabs your hand and lays a kiss on the back of it. Her eyes radiate that power and certainty from before, crimson irises shining in the night. Your blush crawls its way back up your neck.
“I-I can say the same.”
The two of you stay in that position for a moment, Serena pulling away her lips but keeping a lingering hold on your hand. Your heart thrums in your chest, while hers is deathly silent. Neither of you wants to be the first to pull away.
“I-uhm.” You stumble, hand still locked in place.
Now’s as good a time as any. You suppose.
In a quick movement, your hand loosens from Serena’s grasp and you give a quick peck on her cheek. In another, you have pulled away, sprinting towards your carriage.
“I-I’ll see you Saturday!” You shout, nearly tripping over a rose bush.
Left behind in the garden stands Serena, cold hand pressed against the burning skin of her cheek. Your kiss shot through her body like a lightning strike, almost jolting her frozen-heart alight.
That night, Serena goes for a hunt. She barely takes the time to change out of her formal clothes, nearly tearing the delicate lacework of her dress. Her claws catch on her gloves and almost rip apart, her heels scuffing the floor as she kicks them off and to the side. Her undead body is thrumming with life, untapped energy that longs to get out.
Her thoughts run a mile a minute, forcibly distracted by the Grizzly bear she currently has in a choke hold. It puts up a good fight, but Serena is running off of pure bloodlust.
At least, she thinks it’s bloodlust. A deeper part of her knows it's something else; The sparking fire of something new and a little bit frightening.
The last time she was personally invited to a ball, an event, a ceremony was less than a couple months ago. When you hold a position such as hers, look like her, they are common occurrences.
But to a party? Not a politically motivated meetup, but a genuine, let your hair down, party? Well, she hadn’t been to one since she was a youngling of 150.
And for the first time in a while, she is excited.
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Wild Thing: Part 2
Paul (The Lost Boys) X Michael’s Ex!Fem!Reader Imagine
Content Warnings: She/her pronouns, Canon Typical violence/weed/Alcohol/Lite Vampiric Manipulation/Blood
Part 1
This is really long so it’s going under a Readmore
• It’s a miracle all of you made it in one piece; the boys had played a nasty trick on Michael; and he damn near went over the edge of Hudson’s Bluff. Normally it took a lot to rattle you, but in that split second before Michael was actually able to stop, you practically felt your heart stop. It wasn’t every day you watched your best friend nearly fall to his death. You can feel Paul’s abdomen tighten beneath your arms as he laughs. It’s a cruel sound, and you’re not sure if it’s at Mike’s expense or yours. David nods toward him, and he turns to look back at you, grinning like the fox in the henhouse. “Oh come on babe, lighten up.”
• As soon as he catches his breath, Michael lunges at David, understably furious. You’re pissed as hell yourself, but when you try to climb off of Paul’s bike to give them all a piece of your mind, he grabs your thigh, keeping you in place. You open your mouth to tell him off, but he interrupts you. “Shhh girlie, just look, s’all cool.”
• You’re about to argue with him when instead of knocking David’s lights out or storming off, you notice Michael talking to him, Star looking entirely uncomfortable between them. “How far are you willing to go, Michael?” Your jaw practically drops in surprise when you see Mike nod, getting back on his bike. It worries you, this is so unlike him.
• Paul smiles down at you, no trace of his cruelty from earlier. He jostles your leg playfully. “See? It was just a little joke, everything’s cool.” You can’t help but lose yourself a little in his beautiful blue eyes, there is just something about him that makes you want to relax. “Cool,” you repeat back to him, sliding your arms around his midsection again. “Atta girl.”
• The rest of the ride is pretty uneventful, and you come to a stop at the mouth of a cave, with no shortage of signs warning of the dangers within. “Oh please tell me we’re going in there,” you say with a grin; this is absolutely up your alley, and Michael shakes his head at you with an exasperated smile. How many ill-thought-out adventures had you dragged Mike on growing up together? You can’t help but recall the time you found that creepy old military bunker and accidentally locked yourselves in...the two of you ended up finding an alternative exit that opened up into the library basement of all places...
• Paul helps you off the bike, tugging you against his chest so he can whisper in your ear. “It’s your lucky night babe.” You can’t help but grin like an idiot as your heart races. He presses a teasing kiss to the side of your head and you feel yourself begin to melt.
• “We’re not seriously going down there, are we?” Mike pipes up, catching your attention much to Paul’s annoyance. “Mike wants to know if we’re seriously going down there,” Marko repeats, circling the cavern. “I dunno Marko, are we seriously going down there?” Dwayne asks, joining him. “We understand if you can’t hang, Michael,” David mocks with a false tone of sincerity. Paul wraps his arm around you, pulling you tight against him. “Yeah Michael, you don’t need to worry about (Y/N), I’ll keep her nice and safe.” “Stop it!” Star scolds him, taking Mike’s arm. “Don’t listen to them Michael, you can still back out if you want.” David stalks toward the edge of the cavern, his expression foreboding and mischievous. “It’s time to make a decision, Michael.”
• “Well, Either way I’m going in,” you say, getting a little impatient. You were never one to wait around while everyone else danced around a decision. “I’ll help you down,” Paul chimes in a bit too eagerly. He slides his arm around your waist, holding you tightly hip to hip before he jumps down into the cave.
• You gasp, very much expecting to break an ankle or something with the way Paul just leaped down in, but are surprised when your feet touch the ground almost feather light. “How did you DO that?” You whisper in astonishment. “Baby, I am all kinds of magic.” “What are you, the fucking Goblin King?”
• He laughs, watching you squint in the pitch darkness of the cave. “Hey I’ll take that as a compliment, Bowie’s hot as fuck.” “So are you,” you say, trying to reach for where his voice came from, but he leans away from you with a smirk, watching you stumble. “You know what the difference between me and Jareth is though?” You turn around to face him, gasping when he presses you into the cold cave wall. “I’m gonna get the girl.”
• You wrap your arms around his shoulders in excitement. It’s too dark for you to see him, but you part your lips and let your eyes fall shut, expecting a kiss. He doesn’t kiss you just yet though, holding back a moment to drink in the sight of you, beautiful and ready to give yourself to him. His lips only barely touch yours before you’re startled by the sound of several more pairs of feet hitting the ground. He groans with disappointment. “Guess we’ll have to put a pin in this,” he whispers, grazing his teeth ever so delicately against your ear. You shudder.
• Your eyes sting a bit as the cave is suddenly illuminated as Dwayne circles the room, lighting improvised trash bin braziers as he goes. Your jaw drops as you admire the sheer aesthetic of the place. Paul smiles with pride at your positive reaction.
• “What is this place?” Mike asks, climbing down from the ladder you probably should have used. David claps a hand on his shoulder, before moving to circle the cavern. “It was a Hotel once,” David says, gesturing to the now faded and ruined wallpaper. “The Jewel of Santa Carla, really.” He sounds wistful and nostalgic, almost as if he had seen the hotel in its heyday. He goes on to talk about the events leading up to its destruction, but you can hardly pay attention with the way Paul’s fingers trace little patterns against your exposed skin.
• You notice Star staring at you, almost like she’s worried...about what? Michael looks down at her, brow creasing as he follows her concerned gaze to see you standing all cozy with Paul. His eyes widen and he looks away, swallowing awkwardly. David seems to notice, and he looks straight at the pair of you. “Paul, it’s your turn to pickup dinner.” “But-” He protests, squeezing your arms just a little too tightly to be comfortable, but is cut off by the look of finality on David’s face. He sighs in deep frustration, releasing you for just a second before he startles you with a deep and forceful kiss. You barely have a chance to actually enjoy the kiss before he’s pulling away, looking at you with just the sweetest smile that makes you melt. “Wait up for me, okay?” You nod in agreement, blushing furiously. You hardly notice him side eyeing Mike as he turns to leave. “I’ll be back soon.” Just as he sets foot on the ladder, he suddenly turns around, jogging back to place another quick peck to your lips. “Okay, I can go now.”
• “Why don’t you go with him, Star,” David says, causing both Mike and Star to stare at him. “Or else we’ll end up with nothing but fortune cookies and chinese doughnuts.” Star looks at Michael apologetically, staring David down while she moves to exit the cave.
• You look over at Mike, smiling sheepishly and scratching the back of your neck. “Friendly guy,” he teases you, trying to cut through the awkwardness. David laughs, moving to clap a hand on Mike’s shoulder and yours. “What are the odds, huh? The two of you ending up lured into our little family.” Mike cracks a grin. “(Y/N) never could pass up an adventure.” David’s own face splits into a wide grin. “And what about you, Michael? What made you decide to follow us after all the crap we gave you?” “I go where she goes,” Mike says, crossing his arms defensively. “Really? Kinda looks like she’d be entertained plenty without you,” David nods toward you. “Paul’s taken quite a liking to her...that bother you?” “No,” Mike says a bit too forcefully; he never was very good at lying. “Hey, back off.” The words come out of your mouth before you even think about it. David looks at you with stunned amusement. “Yeah, back off David,” Marko mocks you. Dwayne shoves him a little.
• You take a deep breath; Mike tended to close himself off, but you were never very good at holding your tongue when you got upset...still, you didn’t want to overstep your boundaries in the boys’ own territory. “Look, Mike and I were together for a lot of years. Of course it’s weird to see each other with new people-” “You don’t seem too bothered to see him with Star,” Dwayne says from his seat on the old moth eaten couch. David grins, looking between you and Mike. He claps his hands together. “I think maybe these two could use a minute to talk things out, what do you boys think?” Dwayne nods in agreement, and Marko makes kissy noises; Dwayne gives him a light smack to the chest, before the three of them go chill in the other side of the cave to give you and Michael a little space.
• You and Mike stare at each other awkwardly; you gesture to the floor by the fountain. “You wanna sit?” “Yeah,” he agrees, his voice a little hoarse as the two of you take a seat leaning against the fountain. You sit quietly for a bit, awkwardly picking at your fingernails, before Mike breaks the silence. “I’m not upset that you’re moving on.” You turn to face him, and he continues. “I’m trying to move on too...it’s just-” “What?” “Him? (Y/N)? How did you even meet these guys?” You scoff, a little offended by the contempt in his voice when he mentioned Paul, it’s the same way his dad’s family talked about you when Mike first started bringing you around as kids. “He saved me. I was being harassed by a group of guys off the boardwalk, and Paul scared them off.” His gaze turns to his feet, partly ashamed at pre-judging Paul, and oddly ashamed of himself. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you.” You scoff humorously, patting him on the back. “Mike, it’s not your job to protect me, I can look after myself.” “What would have happened if Paul hadn’t shown up?” You laugh, flashing him the knife tucked discreetly into your boot. “Like I said, Mike, I can look after myself.” He lets out a deep sigh, smiling at you sheepishly. “Yeah, I guess you’re right.”
• You give him a friendly smack to the shoulder, lightening the mood a bit. “And what about you, Mr. Badboy, with your leather jacket and fancy earring,” you tease. “What happened to the goodie-two-shoes I grew up with?” It’s Mike’s turn to scoff, he grins at you. “Wow, it’s almost like having my first love leave me for being too much of a Goodie-Two-Shoes right before my parents get divorced fucked me up a little, huh?” “Mike...I-” He laughs, giving your arm a playful shrug. “Hey, no, in all seriousness you were right. I never really pushed the envelope growing up unless I was following you. I just thought with the move that maybe it’s time for me to reinvent myself, you know? Explore what I want for a change.” He’s smiling, and you smile back at him. “She’s beautiful,” you say. “I think she likes you too.” A blush creeps up on his face, and he can’t keep himself from smiling. “Well I’m not sure if Paul likes you,” he teases, trying to draw the attention away from himself. “He might just kiss everyone like that, we don’t know.” You can’t help but laugh, shoving Mike. He decides to be dramatic, falling over onto the floor like you actually pushed him. He sits up on his elbows, smiling at you like he used to when you were kids. You return the favor.
• Unbeknownst to you, Paul stands in the entrance of the cave, his chest tightening as he watches you laugh and smile with Mike. He walks over to you quietly, so he can startle you when he drops to the ground to sit next to you. “Easy there, Mikey. You had your chance,” he says with thinly veiled contempt as he throws his arm around you. He hands you a carton of takeout. “You seem like a beef and broccoli kind of girl, hope that’s alright.” You smile up at him, cradling the hot container carefully in your hands. “It’s my favorite, thank you so much.” He smiles back, very pleased with himself.
• Star calls Mike over, handing him a carton of plain rice. She apologizes, saying she wasn’t sure what he’d like. She doesn’t quite believe him when he insists that it’s fine. “He means it Star, he hates chinese food, the rice is all he’ll eat,” you clarify. David perks up, stirring a carton of noodles. “You hate Chinese food? Jesus Michael, how could a billion Chinese people be wrong?” “Guess not everyone likes flavor,” Paul taunts, skewering his General Tso’s with his chopsticks. “‘Least I know how to use chopsticks,” Michael spits back, earning dramatic ooos from the boys. “He’s always been shit at it, doesn’t have the patience,” Dwayne says. “Not me,” Marko pipes up. “I can catch a fly midair.”
• “Oh fuck off, (Y/N) doesn’t care if I can use chopsticks or not, do you babe?” He asks, leaning in for a kiss. You take advantage of his momentary distraction to snatch a bite of his chicken...with your chopsticks. He gasps in mock offense at your sneakiness, and you quickly press your lips against his to make up for it. “Nope, I think it’s cute.” He’s smiling ear to ear, his big blue eyes locked on you, and your smile.
• David makes an exaggerated gagging noise, staring at the two of you and thoroughly ruining the moment. “Mind wrapping it up? Some of us are trying to eat here...Speaking of which, how are your maggots, Michael?” “Excuse me?” “Maggots, Mike, you’re eating Maggots.” Mike rolls his eyes, humoring David and looking into the cartoon. His eyes go wide and he instantly drops the carton, spilling rice all over the ground as he gags. The boys all laugh, and you look at Mike with concern. “What the hell Mike? It’s just rice.” He looks at you like you’re crazy, pointing frantically to the carton. “(Y/N) are you crazy? Look, it’s-” He looks down to see nothing but rice...certainly no maggots. “It’s...rice.” He looks up at David. “What the fuck did you do to me?” Paul laughs, pulling a positively ancient altoids tin from his jacket. “Take it easy, Mikey, you need to calm down,” he says, popping open the tin to reveal a collection of hand rolled joints.
• Your eyes light up, it’s been a while since you’ve smoked, and it’s always good with Chinese food. You look at Mike, being consoled by Star. “Could be the stress, Mike. When was the last time you even slept well since...” You don’t mention his parents’ divorce in front of the guys. That’s Mike’s business, not yours. He nods, catching your meaning. “...Yeah, yeah I’m in.” Marko jumps down from his perch, smacking Mike on the back. “Atta boy, Mikey!”
• Paul tosses Marko a joint, pulling out another and slipping it between your lips. “This one’s just for us.” He lights the joint, and you inhale deeply. “Romantic,” you say, blowing smoke at him. “I try,” he says, leaning in for a kiss as he takes the joint from your fingers. He pulls away just far enough so he can press the tip of his nose against yours. He takes a long drag, holding the smoke in as he leans in for another kiss. You inhale the smoke from his lungs, trying hard not to cough and ruin the kiss; this was the first time you were on this end of the shotgun. Your chest begins to heave, and he pulls away with a grin so you can cough in peace. “Wow, you take my breath away,” you squeak out between heaving coughs. He laughs, not a mean sound this time, but with genuine delight. “Damn babe, I think I might end up falling for you,” he jokes, hand on his heart.
• You planned on sassing him back, but you find yourself lost in his big beautiful eyes. You swallow, hard. Maybe it’s the weed, maybe it’s the excitement of the night, but you can’t help but think that sounds...kind of nice. You glance around the cave, at the guys, and back at Paul. Would it be so bad to stay here forever? You’re broken out of your trance by a musical tinging sound, you and Paul both look up to see David clinking an old spoon against the gaudiest decorated wine bottle you’ve ever seen. Oddly; Paul tenses beside you, his hand on your knee almost trembling.
• David turns to Mike with the wickedest look on his face. “Join us, Michael.” Star grabs onto Mike, looking even more tense than Paul does now. “You don’t have to do it, Michael. It’s not too late to back out,” she urges. “What is it?” “Blood,” she says. You laugh at the obsurdity, and Mike shakes his head at her, knocking back the bottle and drinking deeply. The boys cheer, and David turns the bottle to you. “(Y/N)...drink, and be with us forever.”
• Before you can reach for it, Paul holds his hand out to David. Unfortunately, it slips out of his hand, the bottle shattering at your feet, spilling wine over your shoes. David shoots him the nastiest look, and Paul puts his hands up in apology. “Fuck, shit, I’m so sorry; I’ll clean that up,” he says, dropping to his knees. You drop down beside him, and his eyes go wider than you’d ever seen them. “(Y/N)-” “I can help.” “No, You don’t need-” Suddenly he winces, and you instinctively grab his hand. “Fuck,” he grunts, watching the blood well up in his palm. He puts his hand to his mouth, trying to cover the bleeding. “Shit, Paul, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean-” “Maybe you should kiss it better,” Marko taunts. “I’m fine, (Y/N), really.” He gazes at you soothingly with those eyes of his, trying not to wince as you blot at his bleeding hand with your shirt. “You’re bleeding like crazy-” you start to argue, before noticing that his hand is hardly bleeding anymore. How could that be? He flexes his hand gingerly. “See, I told you I’m fine,” he smiles at you, his eyes sparkling. “Wouldn’t mind that kiss though.” You smile back at him, taking his hand to your lips. You taste the blood still wet against his hand, and strangely, it tastes almost sweet. You wonder if maybe it’s the weed smoke on your tongue, or maybe the chinese food, that’s making his blood taste so strange. You stare up at him sheepishly, thankful he can’t tell what you were thinking just now. He caresses your face softly in his hand, and you melt into the tenderness of his touch. “You’re so cute when you’re worried about me.” He presses his lips against yours, and you’re immediately hit by the sweet taste of his blood again. Part of you is horrified with yourself; you know you should pull away, but it’s just too good. You think you might die when he slips his tongue into your mouth. All too soon he pulls away, looking more than satisfied with himself, a breathless glee in his eyes. He strokes his thumb across your mouth, coming back bloody. “Looks like we made a mess.” He leans in to whisper in your ear. “And it looks like you liked it.” Your body tenses, mortified at being caught, but he runs a comforting hand down your back. “Don’t worry babe, it’ll be our dirty little secret.”
#mypost#the lost boys#paul lost boys#Paul lost boys imagine#paul the lost boys#the lost boys imagines#paul lost boys x reader#David knows he TOTALLY did that on purpose#He wanted the Reader to turn with HIS blood#He was scared as hell when she bent down to help though because if she’d have gotten cut he wouldn’t know how he and the boys would react#tlb imagines#paul tlb
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Sam Guthrie x Reader (F) Crazy.
Word Count-6225
(the reader is 5'7-5/8 so shes were an inch or two taller than the rest of the girls.)
Warning- Swearing And mention of death
Lightly Edited
3rd person
Dr.Reyes walked Y/n down the hall towards one of the concrete rooms. The sound of her shoes echoed along the halls. Dr.Reyes opened the door and gestured her in "here is your room, for now. You have some clothes on the bed with some toilet trees." Dr.Reyes said with a small smile, y/n walked into the room "What now, doctor?" y/n chuckled, she looked around. The room was slightly cold "Were going to monitor you. Make sure you don't lose control of your mutation." Reyes stated and y/n turned around and looked at her. Reyes closed the door closed with a slight slam.
Y/n POV
I looked around the room, a few outfits sat on the green-colored bed 'I wonder what there's do around here.' i thought before I laughed "probably nothing but good girls.' and got changed.
I grabbed a pair of dark jeans and a black hoodie with a pair of slip-on shoes that were placed in the corner of the room. I fixed my hair and exited the room. The facility was big but not like a hospital. I walked to the end of the hall and took a left. I walked passed an open door and heard Reyes talking ' i guess this is the room?' and looked through the door slightly, 2 boys and 3 girls. They were sat in a half-circle on yoga mats.
"I'm not going to that, no way." I thought to myself and walked down the hall towards the exit/ entrance of this building. Reyes told me some directions but not a lot. I'll have to ask one of the people here. I walked up to the door and pushed on it, it didn't budge. I pushed it again still nothing "Open please." I yelled out to no one in particular. I heard the lock to the door open "well then..." and pushed open and walked outside. There was a church and then the main building with a fountain in the middle.
The gate was open, but you can tell there's a field around this place you can feel it. I walked towards the church, seeing a giant clock on the top "Could see I can break it and sit up there. That might be fun." I said out loud, see that there isn't anything to do here. I walked in the church and up the stairs to my right. The steel stairs shook a little as I walked up to them. I got to the top and climbed over the rail to get the clock platform.
I knocked on the wood, something my grandfather taught me to see if the wood was rotten or not. The wood sounded hollow, I kicked it and the bottom cracked. I started pulling out 2 pieces of the wood, just big enough for me to sit in and not get splinters.
I looked out of the clock tower, a concrete block sat in the middle of an old-looking basketball court. It had a giant chain and harness on it "What the fuck?" I said and sat down, my feet dangling off the edge.
"I wonder where the road leads to? There no cars here." I thought to myself as I looked around some more. There was a giant field surrounding the facility, and then a treeline so ways back.
I saw the 2 brunettes from the meeting earlier walk out of the main building, they seemed to be laughing at something waling towards the church. The two girls looked up and saw me and pointed up "Hey what are you doing up there?!" she yelled up at me, it was faint but I could still hear her "I'm god! you?" I yelled back down laughing, swinging my feet.
"No your not. Come down before you get hurt." The girl in the blue sweater yelled and I signed, standing up and walking down the stairs. I opened the church's main door open and the 2 girls were standing in front of it a few feet away. I smirked "Wow, you guys are younger. How old are you." I chuckled, the 2 were probably about an inch shorter than me.
The girl with long hair laughed "Your not much older. were both 16." the girl in the blueish black sweater nodded "You guys are children, You guys should be in fucking school... Or in alleyway doing graffiti and dumb shit like me at 16... I'm not a good influence " I drew off "Oh I'm y/n, I'm 17 btw. So you're not that younger I guess..."
The blue sweater smiled "Rahne." and she held out her hand, I shock head "No no no, I don't shake hands. Not anymore." I said in an anxious tone "Danielle, May I ask why?" Danielle crossed her arms over her chest "You'll learn one day. Not now." I smirked, "So who else is here?" I asked looking around, the outside is empty "Well you've met me and Rahne. Then you have Roberto, his family sent him here to be cured, Then Illyana She's not so nice, and Sam he's nice." Danielle answered.
"Interesting. Well then" I signed "So what's there to do here? It looks pretty empty and dead..." I said looking at the dead bushes around the entrance of the main building.
"Not really, we have the church, a commons room with a TV, Foosball table, And a mini library. We also have a pool, that's it." Rahne said before Dani could. I clicked my tongue on the roof of my mouth "So what was that meeting room thing you guys were in? Do you guys do that every day?" I asked the girls looking around, maybe for another place to climb.
"Pretty much. Its like group therapy. Except we have to do to get out of here, you can not go but you'll get out much later than expected." Rahne replied 'she's one of the nice kids. Both of them are.' i thought to myself before looking at the "How long are we here for? 3 months or 3 years?"
Danielle and Rahne looked at each other "Umm, we don't know. Rahne's been here for about 3, I've been here for 2 months." Dani said quietly. I nodded slowly and clicked my tongue "Fucking great. Well, I'm going to go and maybe fuck around and break something. See you, girls." I saluted and walked away 'this is fucking great' I yelled in my head.
3rd person
"Well then... She seems nice..." Danielle said as she watched Y/n walk away, Rahne smiled "Shes gonna get in trouble a lot... I can feel it." Dani nodded and the 2 walked to the field to hang out for the cool afternoon.
Y/n pushed the door open and bumped into someone "What the fuck. Watch it." A girl said from the other side, Y/n looked at her. The girl had long straight blonde hair and bangs "You watch it bitch. You're not scary." Y/n flipped her off and walked off laughing.
Illyana turned around and watched the girl walk away with her middle finger up "Bitch." and Went outside to tag the fountain or the back of the brick building.
Y/n took some turns before being called from down the hall "Y/n!" Reyes yelled to the girl and she turned around "Yeees" she drew out as the women walked closer. Reyes looked at her with a brow raised "Where were you this morning? I haven't been able to find you all day. You know you have to check in with me." the Doctor said in a stern voice. Y/n laughed "I was outside, duh. You have cameras all over and you couldn't find me?" She mocked "That's bullshit, Doctor and you know that."
Reyes signed "Am I going to have to assign you, someone, to walk you everywhere? Y/n." Y/n scoffed and looked at the women "What?" Reyes repeated herself s "Am I going to have to assign someone to watch you during the day?" Reyes put her hands in her pockets "Haha, ill just lock them in a room and leave." Reyes nodded and wrote something down on a note pad from her pocket "We will see about that, Mrs. L/n. But for now, you are confident for the rest of the night. My superiors believe you should not be out alone for now."
Y/n grinned "For what? hurting your feelings?" she mocked in a childish tone of voice, y/n laughed at Reye's facial expression "While you are here, you listen to me. okay, I am in charge here. Not you." Reyes asserted, glancing up into Y/ns eyes "Oh yeah?" Y/n said looking down at the doctor slightly getting close to her face "I've controlled people way stronger and bigger than you. You don't scare me, doctor. You're weak." Y/n had a devilish smirk on her face, one that could make a grown man cry.
"Confinement now. Sedation or free will. You choose, Y/n." The Doctor said in a steady voice, y/n still close to her.
Y/n scoffed "Fine." and stepped back, The doctor let out a breath she didn't know she was holding. The doctor nodded and stood behind the girl as she walked down the hall towards the concrete rooms"Lockdown, off." Reyes said and the gate opened up, and so did the doors.
Y/n pushed opened her assigned room and looked at the doctor "bye-bye." she teased and waved her fingers at the doctor. Reyes closed the door with a slam. Closing the opening on the top of the door.
Reyes turned from the door and walked down the hall, to go to her office and the camera room to check on the other mutants "Doctor Reyes!" Was heard from down the other hall, Reyes turned towards the voice, Rahne and Dani jogged towards her.
"Yess girls?" she asked as the girls got closer, putting her hands in her pockets "Why did we just go into lockdown? is everything alright?" Rahne asked Reyes cleared her throat and thought for a second "Yes, everything is fine. Just a glitch..." she said was a gentle smile, trying to keep what just happened a secret "Oh, okay." Rahne nodded "Oh do you know where, umm what her name. Y/n is? we've been looking for her." Dani asked, Reyes, nodded slightly "Yes, umm. She just got done with the test. She in her room. She is to not be bothered for the rest of the night. Sorry girls."
Rahne and Dani nodded and Reyes walked away. Rahne and Dani watch the women walk away, and turn down the long hall.
Y/n POV
I kicked the bottom of the door and walked towards the bed and sat down. The room was cold and the light flickered. I laughed at the situation and fell back onto the hard bed under me "What the fuck!" I yelled looking at the peeling ceiling. I looked at the camera in the corner "Hello, doctor." I waved at the camera which had a red light now "I'm just gonna go to bed, I guess," I said with a yawn and turned away from the camera.
Next day
"It's 8:30, please start to get ready for the day. A required meeting is at 10:30. Everyone should be there." I heard Reyes talk from the speaker, I groaned and heard the speaker connected tot he camera in my room crack "Ill be there in 10 minutes to bring you to my office You'll be with me today until group." I herd Reyes say and sat up "you're kidding me... Am not a fucking kid!" I yelled and changed into a pair of ripped jeans and a long sleeve shirt, I tucked it into my jeans and put on the slide on sneakers I was wearing yesterday.
I fixed my hair and waited for Reyes to come down. A few minutes passed before I heard the lock to the door open and the door opened "Good morning, how did you sleep?" Reyes asked me as I exited the room and closed the door behind me "Fine, Can I go to the bathroom?" I asked as we walked down the hall, Reyes nodded and we walked to the bathroom. Reyes stayed outside while I took my time. I do not want to be with these women today.
A few minutes later I exited the bathroom and Reyes mentioned down the hall. We walked to her office in silence. She opened the door I walked in "Why am I here?" I asked as I fell into the couch in front of her desk. She sat in her desk chair and looked up "Because of the incident yesterday. I am going to watch you for the first half of today, until the group. Then I am going to put you with one of the trusted mutants to watch you until I believe you can roam free. Do you understand?"
I looked at her "Who is it that gets to watch me?" I questioned looking at the bookcases around the room, She stopped typing on her computer and looked up "Sam Guthrie. He has agreed to be your, so-called 'keeper'. He will keep you calm and out of trouble, like yesterday you got into a small conflict with Illyana." she stated and looked again at her computer and started typing.
I sighed and leaned back on the couch, The room was light up by a lamp on her desk. The bookcases were filled with books and random Items, I guess from her higher-ups. The room also had file cabinets along one wall 'probably all of the other mutants that have come and go. Mines probably in there as well with the others...I'll have to get my hands on it.' I thought to myself.
The sound of typing and page-flipping were heard through the room. The woman was very focused on her work. Only leaving the room to go across the hall to check on cameras. An hour passed and it was time for the group. Reyes and I walked to the room, as Reyes ha to set up.
"You can sit there." Reyes pointed to the seat closest to the door and her, I rolled my eyes and dropped into the wooden chair. The room was filled with different types of Items, like yoga mats and an easel for painting.
The mutants all came at once like they had a meeting before coming, I waved to Dani and Rahne. Dani raised a brow "Why are you here so early?" she asked in a quiet tone as she walked to her seat, I gestured to Reyes and rolled my eyes. Rahne shook her head and took a seat, Reyes looked at the room "Hello, how is everyone?" She asked and took out her clipboard.
Good was muttered around the room "Whos the new girl?" the boy across from me asked, looking me up and down. Reyes nodded and gestured towards me "This is Y/n L/n. She came in 3 days ago." I waved and looked around.
The blonde from yesterday, who was holding a purple puppet glaring at me. I smiled at her and she rolled her eyes. There was also a boy right next to me, he had a cast and sleeve on and a grey sweatshirt with a hat.
"Why haven't we seen her ?" the guy from across the room asked, Reyes, cleared her throat "Because Roberto, she is..." The woman thought for a second "She is more troublesome than my superiors anticipated." I chuckled and leaned back "Oh my."
"Y/n, why don't you introduce yourself? same to the rest of you." Reyes asked pointing her clipboard towards me, I sat up and pulled the sleeves of my shirt over my hands " I'm y/n, as you know... I'm here because I can control people like 'puppets' and drive them insane. Close to killing themselves... insane." I said in a quiet tone "Also, I'm here because I'm just fucking trouble."
Reyes looked over at me "Language, Y/n. Now everyone else introduces yourself." The room went quiet and Dani spoke up "Well you know me and Rahen." Dani said with a smile. Roberto looked up "I'm Roberto." I shook my head and looked at the blonde "Show and tell, sweetheart. What's your name."
The blonde looked at me and smiled "Your nightmare" I laughed, and took a deep breath "You're like a chihuahua. All bark and no bite. I asked for your name, not your coping mechanism." She gasped and gripped the purple dragon puppet "Her name is Illyana." The boy next to Me answered, I took a dramatic breath "Wow, The chihuahua couldn't talk for herself. Thank you 'Luck Combs." I heard him huff.
I heard a chuckled from across the room, it was Dani "Now, Mr.country. What is your name?" I said turning in my seat facing him 'Imma annoy the shit out of him. he seems fun.' He sighed and fixed his hat "My name is Sam." I nodded and gave a soft smile before turning back around facing Reyes with the most annoying smile I can.
"Now that everyone has introduced themselves. Were going to talk about the incident that leads us into where we are now."I rolled my eyes and zoned out, Already knowing 3 out of 5 incidents.
3rd person
"I killed 18 men." Y/n heard Illyana making her zone back in, "What else?" Reyes asked the girl "I killed them with my sword and Lockheed." She smirked with a strong voice. Reyes wrote down some notes and looked at the same "Sam what about you?" Y/n focused her attention on him, still looking at the floor. Sam shuffled in his seat "I got claustrophobic." y/n shifted in her seat a little, wanting to be able to hear him better "I... Freaked out, and blasted. Killing my dad and his team."
"Oh, shit..." Y/n muttered putting her hand on her face. Sam looked at her and then back at the floor "Y/n, why don't you share?" Reyes asked the girl, y/n shook her head "No thanks." Reyes nodded and wrote down something on her page. A few more minutes went by before the meeting was over.
"Well, that wraps up today's meeting. Y/n and Sam, please stay behind for a moment. Everyone may leave, you're free for the day." Reyes stated and the room stood up, Y/n and sam stayed in their seats. Once the 4 left Reyes close the door "What is it? gonna lock me in a room again?" Y/n smirked standing up fixing her shirt.
"No, y/n. This is sam, the person I said volunteered to watch you?" Reyes said with a soft smile, Y/n pinched the bridge of her nose and turned towards sam "Well the aren't you lucky country boy." Reyes cleared her throat "Y/n. Be nice, this is your last chance." And with that Reyes left, probably going to her office or the camera room.
Sam stood up and fixed his sleeve "So what did you do? to you know, have to have someone to watch you?" sam asked as the two walked out of the room, Y/n chuckled "I threatened Reyes last night, told her that she was weak and that I've dealt with people stronger than her. I also got into a little conflict with Illyana the other day and apparently Reyes though it was a big deal."
The two turned the corner walking outside "What did you do to Illyana?" Sam questions, knowing that Illyana isn't hard to break. Y/n stopped walking and looked at him "I opened the door, I bumped into her. She told me to watch it, so I told her that she wasn't scared and flipped her off. That was it." Sam turned around and nodded slowly, rethinking his agreement with Dr.Reyes.
"Well then. Umm, I'm going to practice and your gonna stay out here on the wall, and try to not get in trouble?" Sam asked the girl I front on him, She smirked nodded"Fine, I can't promise though." and followed Sam to the concrete block. He took off his sweater and sleeve, Y/n watched to the church outside wall and stood against it. Sam hooked himself up and looked and y/n, she waved her hand to him and shook his head and prepared to blast off.
Y/n watched sam as he launched into the air, right when he did. Y/n ran into the church and up to the clock, the wood was replaced with a tarp which she held up and sat where she had on her first day. She watched Sam fly through the air, the bright orange light that followed him. Sam went around a few more times before he started going off track, he crashed into the ground and Y/n flinched as she heard the crash, sam flew back into the air and crashed into the concrete a few more times before stopping.
Y/n Jaw dropped as she watched the boy lay on the ground for a few seconds before standing back up "I thought I was messed up." she muttered to herself as sam Unbuckled the harness from his torso and looked at the wall y/n was at before he blasted "Y/N!" Sam yelled for the girl and she held in a laugh swinging her feet, hitting the brick, Y/n watched sam look around while putting his sweatshirt on and sleeve.
Sam looked up at the church and saw y/n sitting in the clock "I told you not to leave the wall, come down here." He yelled up to the girl and she laughed "Ask nicely." she yelled down to him, he shook his head and rubbed his face with his right hand "Can you PLEASE! come down?" He yelled up, drawing out the 'please', Y/n stood up and walked down to the boy.
Sam stood a few feet in front of the door waiting for the girl. Y/n walk out and laughed "You look like a dad who just saw his daughter's boyfriend." she said holding her stomach laughing, After a few moments y/n stopped and took a deep breath fixing her hair. Sam shook his head at the girl with a small smile "you are... something." She smirked and walk to the boy glancing up at him "Its called trauma, sweetheart." and flicked his hat. He rolled his eyes and fixed his hat and nodded.
The two stood close to each other for a few moments before Y/n spoke up "So those crashes you tool, you need medical attention or?" Y/n asked stepping back from Sam, looking at his eye which was turned red. He shook his head "No, I'm fine. Thanks."
The two stood in silence before y/n started to walk away from him towards the cemetery behind the church "Where are you going?" Sam asked catching up to the girl, she laughs "Looking around. I have only seen a little bit of the main building and whatever you can see from the church. So, Sam is going to come with me and walk around while I get familiar with the place. Okay?" Y/n looked at Sam and winked "Okay." Sam agreed and the two walked around in silence for a while, Y/n taking a moment at a few graves to look at them and push away weeds covering them.
Y/n ran towards the giant greenfield looking at the tree line among it "DO you ever wonder what's behind it?" Y/n asked sam as she kicked off her sneakers letting them fall to the grass. Sam walked to her side "Yeah who wouldn't, also what are you doing?" Sam asked looking at the now barefoot girl.
She stared at him "What does it look like? Imma runs down the hill, with no shoes on. Possibly fall and hurt myself but imma have fun. With or with you." And with that y/n ran down the hill laughing. The grass wasn't so long that she could trip on it but it was long enough to not be able to see rocks. Y/n tripped slightly but caught her footing and continued down. She got to the bottom and danced around, Sam watching her from above.
Y/n did a few spins and fell to the ground on her back. Sam sat down on the grass where he was standing. Y/n took some deep breaths and let the world stop spinning before sitting up. Y/n looked up the hill and saw sam sitting there looking at the sky, distracted.
Y/n stood up and slowly walked up the hill and sat down next to him "What you looking at." Y/n said getting close to his ear, Sam flinched "dear lord. The sky, you?" Sam Chuckled glancing at the girl who had moved away from him "You. Because I'm stuck with you for a while." Y/n said as she leaned on her hand looking at sam.
Y/n and Sam sat on top of the hill for a while in silence, the two were strangers and had nothing in common that they knew of. But they both felt like they could trust each other. The sky started turning orange and sam stood up and gave y/n his right hand "Come on, we got a go in." sam said as Y/n took his hand he lifted her "Is there a crew few or something?" Y/n asked as she brushed her butt off due to grass.
"No, not really, only in the morning. But we have to eat, and then the group will probably go to hang out in the attic later."Sam said and y/n nodded "Okay." Sam walked in front of Y/n as the went to the main building. sam opened the door for y/n "What a gentleman." Y/n Joked and walked through, the door closed and locked. Y/n turned to sam "So where is the cafe?" Sam pointed down the hall "Down there, Its not a hard building to find yourself around. It's just a matter of knowing which door is the right one." Y/n nodded and followed sam.
Sam and Y/n entered the Cafeteria, Y/n saw Danielle and Rahne and walked towards them and sat down. Sam going to a random table in the room.
Y/n POV
I and Sam entered the Cafeteria, I saw Rahne and Danielle and Went to there table. I Waved and sat down"Hey! How are you guys." I asked as I sat down, the two girls smiled "Were fine, you?" Rahne responded with a smile, Dani nodded and smiled Taking a small bite of food.
"I'm fine, first full day here so..." I shrugged my shoulders, Danielle raised her brow "why did Reyes need you and sam group?" Dani asked, I smiled and sighed "Apparently, I'm more then what her higher-ups though. So, Reyes asked sam to be the 'watcher' of me. It's my last chance or I guess I get sent somewhere else?" I explained to Dani "So You and Sam basically have to hang out all day, Just to make sure you don't get in trouble?" Dani asked and I nodded.
We talked some more about each other's day/ life before coming here while the two girls ate, I had gotten up and grabbed an apple "Are you going to the attic tonight?" Rahne asked and I raised a brow "I guess, I mean why not." I responded and Dani smiled "Oh your in for a surprise." I rolled my eyes and laughed "I bet, It can't be that bad."
"So how you liking Sam?" Rahne asked I shrugged "He's nice, I mean he's a good boy. And I'm not good, I'm trouble so." I started glancing over at Sam who was talking Roberto. Rahen chuckled "A Trouble maker paired with a good guy. What could go wrong?" Dani smirked at y/n " Very little, actually. I and he literally sat on the hill for like 30 minutes in silence." I laughed and so did Dani.
3rd person
A few minuted pass, Dani And Rahne had returned their trays and y/n had thrown away the apple "You wanna come to the common room with us until we all go to the attic?" Rahne asked as they returned, Y/n nodded "Yeah sure." Y/n stood up and went to walk out with the 2 girls "Wait hold up, Never mind ill meet you there." Y/n said and stopped waving to the girls and walked over to sam.
"What you doing?" Y/n said as she sat down at the table sam was at reading a book, sam looked up "Waiting for you. You done?" He asked marking and closing his book, Y/n nodded "Yeah, wanna go to the common room?" Y/n said as she stood up pointing to the door, Sam nodded "Okay, Come on." Sam and Y/n left the Cafe, Roberto washing dishes in the room.
The two entered the small room, Y/n jumped over the couch next to Dani and Rahne "Hello!" Y/n laughed and the girls waved continuing to watch the movie. A few minutes passed and Roberto knocked on the door "Come on attic time."
Rahne and Dani stood up, and y/n turned off the tv standing up and walking out of the room with the group. Roberto and Illyana up front basically running. the group went to the staircase and went up, the room smelled like old wood and dust. Y/n waled up the stairs and saw a wooden chair with wheel, an old gurney, with a stool next to it, and another table in the middle and on the side.
Illyana Walked tot eh back of the room pulling out an old briefcase, and opened it up. Y/n saw what it was "Oh, a lie detector test. wonderful." y/n said as she poked sams arm, Sam shrugged and sat on the stool next to Y/n who was on the table. Dani sat next to Y/n and Rahne sat next to the test.
"Whos going first?" Sam asked and Illyana smirked "Roberto?"Roberto got in the chair and Rahne hooked him up. After he got asked his question he got out and sam jumped in the chair Rahne hooking him up and such "Whos gonna ask?" Dani asked, Illyana spoke up "What's up with you and Y/n?" Y/n looked at the blonde and then at sam.
"Nothing, why?" Sam responded Rahne nodded "He's telling the truth." Rahne said to Illyana "Then why were you with her all day?" Y/n laughed at Illyana's question, Illyana faced her "What are you a stalker?" Y/n laughed at her, Illyana looked at sam "So..." Sam looked at y/n and cracked his knuckles "I was assigned to supervisor her. That's it." Rahne looked at the graph "Truth." Illyana nodded and looked at y/n "Your turn, new girl get in the chair."
Y/n shook her head and waited for Sam to get out before sitting in it and Rahne hooked her up "Why are you here?"Illyana smirked moving the light into Y/n face, y/n flinched before answering "I drove a bunch of people insane, and controlled them like puppets to kill each other." Y/n sated in an emotionless voice "They killed each other slow and bloody, while voices in their heads drove them deeper and deeper into the craziness." Y/n said as she looked at Illyana.
The line on the board was straight "Shes telling the truth." Rahne muttered out, Illyana looked at the girl "And why is sam assigned to watch you? You to crazy to be alone?" Illyana said the last part in a high pitch voice, Y/n chuckled "Yeah, pretty much. Reyes Higher Ups said ' I am too much then they can handle.' So yeah your right, I am too crazy to be alone. That and I threatened Reyes the other day." she said with a smile, the room went silent. all that was heard was the lie director writing the line on the screen.
Y/n pulled the wires and stuff off of her and got out of the chair "I'm going." she said and walked down the stairs sam got off of the stool and signed "Good job." he faked smiles and followed the Y/n.
Y/n ran down the stairs and opened the door with a slam, tears were building up and she really just wanted to break something. She speed-walked down the concrete brick wall, Sam opened the door and y/n was halfway down the hall "Y/n!" he yelled but not too loud, Y/n didn't stop but ran into the bathroom and locked the deadbolt on the door.
3rd Person(bathroom)
Y/n ran into the bathroom and locked the deadbolt on the door, the tears that had built up started to fall. Y/n fell down the cold cinderblock wall, Flashbacks of the incident purged her mind and they would stop. Y/n put my head and my knees and hoped it would stop, hitting the wall once in a while when they got bad.
A knock echoed through the room "Y/n?" a person from outside answered, Sam. Of course. she didn't move, fearing the people would be in the room with her, Sam knocked again "Y/n, open the door. You're fine." sam voice was muffled slightly. Y/N shakily stood up and unlocked the door she stepped back so sam could get in. Tears still falling and her breathing is ridged with the scenes playing in her head.
Sam slowly pushed open the door closing it behind him, Sam faced Y/n whos hands were covering her eyes, "Y/n, hey you're fine. Okay, it was an accident." Sam said trying to help the girl but not really knowing what to do. Y/n latched on to sam and cried harder, Sam hugged her with his right arm his left one was still up against his torso. Sam slowly bent down leading the two to the floor, sam pulled y/n into his lap as he sat up against the metal door.
Sam rubbed Y/n back slowly trying to calm her down "Tell me whats going on, y/n." Sam said in a quiet voice and the girl cried, she choaked "They're killing each other and screaming, there's blood everywhere. I don't-" she stopped talking covering her ears "What are you hearing y/n? talk to me." Sam stated holding her a little tighter "Just so many voices, ones from the men and ones from my power. It just won't stop sam." she cried hitting her head lighting with her palm.
Sam grabbed her hand and pulled it to her side so she couldn't "Hey, listen to me ok?" Sam asked the girl rubbing small circles into her hand, she nodded "They aren't here. Its just flashbacks of the incident. Your gonna be okay." He told Y/n, as she calmed down a little bit.
This went on for a few minutes before y/n crying had stopped. Sam rocked side to side a little bit until he heard no more crying, Y/n wiped her eyes and Sam gave her a tissue from his jacket, Y/n chuckled and cleaned herself up "Thank you." Y/n muttered in a tired voice getting out of his lap and leaning up against the wall next to him.
"You're welcome, you good now? You want me to carry you to your room?" Sam asked looking at the puffy eye girl, she shook her head "No, it's fine." she covered her mouth and coughed lightly. She brought her knees up to her chest " you good?" Sam asked rubbing her back "I will be If this breakdown didn't alert Reyes." she chuckled and look at sam and smiled, sam chuckled "I think you're good. the only thing in the bathroom is probably a microphone." the two laughed, and Y/n shook her head "Honestly with the number of cameras in this place probably." Y/n drifted off in thought, sam looked at her "What are you thinking?" Sam asked with a little fear in his voice, Y/n busted out laughing "With the number of cameras and microphones here in this building. The amount of security guards that have probably caught people doing the deed is ... Oh my god." Sam walked Y/ns calf with his right hand lightly and y/n stuck her hands up "I'm just saying... don't get you jockeys in a knot." Y/n laughed and Sam dragged his hand down his face shaking his head.
Y/n laughing echoed throughout the room, soon Sam joined in. the room echoed with the twos laughing. A few moments later they topped and y/n chuckled "I mean... We could test that microphone theory..." Y/n drifted off in thought with a wink, Sam shook his head "What?" Y/n looked at him, Sam's mouth widened at the realization and y/n wheezed " Oh my, y/n." she laughed harder and Sam tried to comprehend what I happening.
Sam signed And looked at y/n "Not now, oh my god." Y/n stopped laughing and shrugged "I mean, you won't know until it's proven or not." Y/n smirked at Sam, he shook his head You are just, too much."
"So, you want to? or..." Y/n joked Sam laughed "one day sure, now? no." Y/n shook her head, and grabbed some right hand with her left hand and looked at him "I'll hold it to you, Guthrie." Sam shook his head and yanked Y/n hand towards him. Putting his arm around her shoulder "I bet you will."
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Detectives By Chance: Chapter 3- Lifeless
A/N: Hi, how is everyone doing💫💛? Today I have the 3rd chapter of Detectives by Chance. This fic was one of my personal favourites to write, and I hope you enjoy it as much as I did. Forgive any mistakes and happy reading💛💛!
Thank you so very much @ohramsey for pre-reading and making my day many times better with your lovely comments🤍❤.
Series Summary: It was supposed to be a usual weekend for the four. Coffee, fun, friends and love. But an unexpected case changed their lives in a way they had never imagined. A mystery - a murder - many secrets… Will Ethan, Pooja, Alexandra and Mark, be able to survive? Or will the circumstances twist and break their lives forever?
Pairing: Ethan × f!MC (Dr. Pooja Sharma)
Disclaimer: PB owns most of the characters. I only own the OCs and my MC.
Word count: 1.7K
Triggers: Mentions of blood, murder
A gloved hand moved steadily towards her. It held something that glistened under the obscure luminescence of the surroundings.
It was, It was a knife. And something was trickling from it, something scarlet.
Blood. Fresh Blood.
The gloved hand came closer and closer. The blood on the knife in that hand glinted.
And then, a croaky, vicious laughter reached her ears.
The growly voice professed “ I began the game, and I will complete it. You are going to die, I WILL KILL YOU!!” and another hoarse laugh followed.
Then the knife was in front of her face, near to her throat. She wanted to throw it out of that hand, but she couldn’t move. Something invisible tied her to her place.
So she screeched, she shrieked but to no avail.
“NO! Please don’t do this, please don’t do this, I don’t know you, I didn’t do anything, please don’t do this, PLEASE!!!”
“Pooja??”
“Don’t do this, No, please don’t do this….”
“Baby? POOJA?”
“AHHHHHHH! Leave me, leave me alone.”
“Pooja, Sweetheart, Wake Up!”
“Go away, go- Ohh, Ethan!” Pooja finally woke up from her nightmare.
She hugged Ethan tightly, too frightened to let go, the visions of her nightmare still fresh in her mind. Even on a cold night like that, she was sweating profusely.
“Ethan, I saw it again. The same nightmare. Every single night since that day. I- I am really scared.” Pooja mumbled, slightly tearing up on the thought of the nightmare. She had always thought of herself to be a headstrong lady. And now these nightmares were making her feel like a dastard, snatching away her confidence.
“Baby, I am here, I will always be here, by your side. I love you, and I won’t let any harm even look at you, let alone touch you.” Ethan murmured in her ears and cradled her to sleep. Feeling secure in his arms, Pooja slowly slipped into a silent slumber.
Three days ago:
Pooja and Alex stood at the door, their eyes wide, hands shaking obscurely and their face pale. They couldn’t think of anything, nor could they move. It felt as if somebody had stuck their feet in place.
Mr Davis’s body was in a horrific condition. The most prominent was the slit throat, but there were many cuts and marks on his hand and face. It was clear that he was not the man behind the notes, because seeing his condition, he had been dead for at least 5 hours, and the blood on the note was relatively fresh.
Finally, succeeding in breaking from the haze, Lex ushered Pooja away from the room and closed the door. She took her to the nearest water fountain, made her drink and sat her on one of the hospital seats. Pooja was slowly breaking from her haze, but the sight made her remember one of the most terrible incidents of her past. One she had always wanted to forget. One she had hidden deep in her heart, but she couldn’t forget it.
Lex pulled her phone out and shot a text to Ethan and Mark asking their whereabouts. Their replies came almost immediately. Ethan was in the diagnostics office, whereas Mark was collecting some results from the lab. Their next text was the same, “What happened?”
Alex told Mark to come ASAP to the diagnostics office, and then she took Pooja and set off for the same destination.
In 5 minutes, all the four were in the diagnostics office. From the looks on Pooja and Alex’s faces, Mark and Ethan could tell something grim had happened.
“Lex, what happened? Is it another note? Did somebody do something to you both? Just say the word, and I will make sure that they don’t see the end of this” Mark fumed, clenching his fists.
“M, first I need you to calm down. The person, whosoever they are, they are very dangerous. They have a sinister ploy, and it seems like they are coming for us.” Alex said, with a sprinkle of uneasiness. She shuddered ever so slightly, but it was enough for Ethan, Mark and Pooja to notice. Pooja put a hand around her.
“That is okay, but can you tell us what has happened? You two look like you have just seen a ghost.” Ethan asked concernedly.
“W-We went to check on Mr Davis-”
“Mr Davis, who?”
“Mark, focus, it is the name of Poo and Lex’s Patient.”
“Oh! Okay sorry, continue.”
“So we went to check on Mr Davis in the morning. When we went to our lockers, there w-was another n-note in my locker” Pooja presented the note as she spoke.
Mark took the note from Pooja while Ethan held her by her shoulder. The situation had hit her much harder than the other three. It brought grim memories of a past she never wanted to remember again.
Alex continued, “After getting the note, we went to check in on Mr Davis, to make sure he was alright and also to check if he was instigating all this or not. However, when we reached his room, it was locked.”
“Okay, that is wrong. Patient rooms are never locked, as doctors and nurses have to go in and out quite often” Ethan stated.
“Exactly! That was the first suspicion. Then I went to get the key from the nurses’ office. And it appeared that they had lost the original one. The nurses spent five freaking minutes in searching the duplicate one.”
“Okay, definitely fishy,” Mark remarked.
“Yup! So then I arrived with the key, opened the door, and-” Lex stopped abruptly. The next words were arduous to say even for her.
“And we saw, Mr Davis, lying dead with his throat slit. His body was all bloody. W-we were so horrified that we c-closed the door and left.” Pooja completed, somehow mustering up courage, but losing it all once she had finished speaking.
These words seemed to take a toll on Mark and Ethan too. The thing they all took for an imprudent joke was not a joke at all. They were dealing with a murderer and a treacherous one.
“We have to inform the Police. This is not something we can manage alone” Ethan asserted, breaking through the silence that had settled in the room. They still had some time before the morning shifts started, and if they hurried, they could also find some vital clues from the dead man’s room.
“Let’s go to Dr. Banerji and inform him what happened. Then till the time the Police reaches, we can look around the room for any clues we might find” Pooja suggested, composing herself and the 4 of them rushed to the Chief’s office.
After recounting everything to Dr Banerji, who assured that the Police would be informed to come as soon as possible, Mark, Ethan, Alex and Pooja set out for Mr Davis’s room.
Alex unlocked the door with the duplicate key she still had, and the four of them entered.
For the first time, Mark and Ethan came face to face with the dead body, and the sight made them discomposed. They had seen many patients dying, but to see someone dying due to an illness and to see someone killed cold-bloodedly is very distinct.
The four of them started searching the surroundings. Their eyes had trained to observe the details, so they didn’t have to touch anything. But nothing seemed suspicious. Nothing looked out of place. Well, nothing except the dead man.
However, in the corner of the room, something caught Pooja’s attention. A note. No, Another note. It looked the same as the previous ones.
“Look!” She said to get everyone’s attention. The other three turned and went to where Pooja was standing.
“Another one?”
“It looks like the murderer knew that we were gonna come to investigate”
“Should we pick it up?”
“I think we should. But I am not sure.”
“Let’s pick it up, coz we know well the Police won’t share their investigation with us.”
Pooja picked it up lightly.
Suddenly Ethan called out, “Wait a sec, what is that?”
Ethan bent down and picked two more pieces of paper. One looked like a receipt of something, and the other one was a visiting card.
“A visiting card! Look if there is any name or any identity?” Lex and Pooja asked
Mark analyzed the card and said, “Nope. The name is too faded to read. But-”
“But what?” The other three asked in unison.
“But if we look closely, we may be able to deduce the address written on it.”
“So are we keeping these stuff?” Ethan questioned, slight uncertainty evident in his voice.
“For now. But if the Police doesn’t get any other solid clue, we can present them these along with our research.” Mark uttered.
“Alright. But lets going before we get suspected” Pooja said, ushering them out.
“Mark, Ethan, you two take these and keep them with you. We both will go and drop the spare key at the nurses’ office.” Lex mentioned, and the four of them left the room.
Now:
The Police were now regular visitors at the hospital. Although the case was supposed to be highly private, the hospital gossip spread like wildfire, and the fear was evident in the staff.
But that didn’t mean any decrease in rush at the hospital. As the new week began, the workload increased, and everyone drowned themselves in it to keep unpleasant thoughts at bay.
Pooja and Alex had been questioned by the authorities multiple times, obviously because they were assigned the case, just before the murder.
However, they couldn’t help much. They told the officers about everything they knew, except for the notes. Mainly because they didn’t have time to research the evidence they had found in the room.
But what had happened had pulled forgotten strings in Pooja’s heart. The nightmares began, and they got worse and worse every single day.
Finally and luckily, Ethan and Pooja had a day off together, which was rare. So, they decided to sit down to research the clues they had collected.
However, what they hadn’t realized then was that even tiny bits of paper, can bring out dark reminiscent of a forgotten past.
PS: So that’s all for chapter 3. If you enjoyed the story, please like, leave a comment or reblog. Your feedback keeps me going 💕. Thank you so much for reading, and I hope you have a great day ahead.💕💕
Tags: @bbrandy2002 @kaavyaethanramsey @ohramsey @ohvamsey @hopelessromanticmonie @trrfanaddict @nervoussaladsludgeopera @imonlybibecauseofethanramsey @lovablegranny @bellcat2010 @gkittylove99 @kingliam2019 @3riche @chetachisblog @starrystarrytrouble @arcticrivers @aylamreads @drariellevalentine @mvalentine @aestheticartsx @angela8756 @schnitzelbutterfingers @choicesficwriterscreations
#pixelberry choices#open heart second year#open heart#choices oh#choices open heart#open heart fanfiction#ethan x mc#ethan jonah ramsey#ethan x pooja#pooja sharma#alexandra walton#mark danvers#lex x mark#choices stories you play#choices stories we play#choices fic writers creations#fics of the week#my fanfics✒
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↬ pairing:. badboy!Jungkook × childhoodfriend!Reader
↬ synopsis:. ❝ Nevermind, I’ll find someone like you. I wish nothing but the best for you too. Don’t forget me, I beg. I remember you said; ‘sometimes it lasts in love. But sometimes it hurts instead.’ ❞
Or, alternatively:
↬ synopsis:. ❝ you and a handsome prince from a neighbouring kingdom team up to spin the worst fairytale the lands have ever laid their eyes upon. ❞
↬ word count:. 15.5k
↬ genre(s):. modern royalty!au, fake dating/fake marriage!au, childhood friends!au, angst, fluff, attempted humour
↬ rating:. pg-15
↬ warning(s):. cheating, suicide, language, alcohol, comatose, mental illness, disturbing scenes, rebounds, e.t.c.
↬ playlist:. play here!
▪ note:. this is a part of the royalty!au collab with my good friend, Addison @aesthetical-witch and I was very inspired by Tae’s cover of someone like you to make this!
CREDITS:
• Thank you soo much to Maggie @kimtaehyunq (requested from the BHQ Request Board) for the wonderful header!
• Thank you to my good friends Ruby @rubinora and Addi @aesthetical-witch for helping me edit and providing me with feedback!
Putting your phone next to you, you sigh and turn to lay on your stomach, your cheek against the soft mattress below you. You had just seen an exhausting text message from someone you did not want to meet right now. You’d be lying if you said Jungkook didn’t still get on your nerves for something stupid he did the last time you had a ‘get-together’. The boy, who you were friends with since you both came from a royal background and your kingdoms were basically next to each other, had drunk your last carton of banana milk.
Naturally, you both had taken a liking to the same drink, and as of currently, most of your ‘wars’ were a result of taking each other’s things and of course, drinking each other’s banana milk. Yes, it is quite idiotic to lose your shit over someone else drinking your milk, but you had every right to be mad at him and more.
In the text that he had sent you just a few minutes ago, he asked if you could meet him in your castle’s garden in a few minutes. You were feeling lazy as always, sitting in your bed, doing nothing, but you could not help but snicker that the guy had the audacity to ask you that when he took your banana milk. In fact, you believe he should be treating you, not asking you for any more favours than he already has. What would poor Jungkook do without you, you shake your head.
Getting up, you take off towards the gardens of your castle. Oh, and it wasn’t much of a castle in your opinion. It did lack some of the things a normal castle would have, like large towers. But you did consider it a mansion. Most called it a castle though, mostly because royal matters were handled here. Or so you thought, anyway, you shrug. You didn’t waste your time and as soon as you got out of your room, you rush down the halls, down the stairs, and through the large doors.
“Now where is he?” you frown. The garden was larger than one could imagine. In front of the gate to the inside of the ‘castle,’ your mother had decided to have a fountain built, and to the right and left, green, lush grass spread over quite a large chunk of land. You opted to go for the more secretive places. The boy must have driven off without his parents’ knowledge and decided to come here, and as far as you knew, if anyone would have seen him, you would have been informed.
You looked around, running in the gardens and squinting your eyes at every shadow you saw, then sighing because none of them belonged to Jungkook — they were mostly trees, occasionally some maid working here or there. But you did find the male soon enough. He was hiding at a corner of the garden where bushes surrounded almost every point. If you didn’t know Jungkook good enough, you would have guessed he was smart.
You run up to him, making sure no one saw you since that would likely be bad news. Whatever it had to be, Jungkook didn’t call you here for something good because it wouldn’t have to be this secretive. “Right,” you catch your breath, panting. “You better tell me something worth it because I feel like I just ran a marathon.” Running around your garden wasn’t easy, in your opinion. It took great will, certainly. “So I was right when I said that you’re just a pillow princess.“
You glare at Jungkook, brows furrowed. You had a bad history with him, you won’t lie. Yeah, he appeared to be quite handsome and even charming. Many girls would swoon over his gorgeous hair, his pretty face and his adorable dimples, and you wouldn’t even be surprised if he was ripped as hell. Being royalty and crown prince was just an added bonus, to be honest. But he was a brat with one big ego, and you knew that fact like the back of your hand.
The way he teased you made blood simmer in your veins. It made you go crazy. You felt beyond helpless when that happened. And you reminded yourself over and over again not to compliment him or his ego would only inflate more. And you considered that wasn’t healthy for him, even though he really did look good.
“Shut up and tell me what you want.” Maybe it was the fact that he spoke something really true and maybe you were a pillow princess so you wouldn’t even deny it, but it still offended you nonetheless. The nickname had been given to you when he had came over once and your mother had mentioned how you never leave your bed. Your mother really knew how to throw you under the bus, didn’t she? He chuckles, then begins to speak. “I have a request for you,” he says. You stop him right there, raising your hand in the air, gesturing him to kindly shut up. You were so done. “For fuck’s sake, Jeon Jungkook. I am not about to go through hell again just for you. Don’t you think you should act a little more independent, maybe? Maybe treat me to dinner first? I am not a 24/7 helper,” you frown, crossing your arms.
“Who taught you to curse?” oh. You might have gotten a little too angry. But who could’ve blamed you? Jungkook wasn’t your responsibility. You didn’t have to help him and you wouldn’t this time. You just had to make it clear and may have gone a little too far. You had tried to stop yourself from cursing in front of him so you’d keep your status, but of course, that didn’t mean that you didn’t actually curse.
“I am an independent adult. I can curse. Meanwhile…” you sigh, “you aren’t. You constantly need help from me. You’re crown prince, Jungkook! You’re supposed to be a little more mature than this.” He didn’t take any time to retort back. “Look who’s speaking. You’re not mature at all,” he says, and though his voice reflected anger, his expression remained calm.
“We’re not talking of me here! You’re the one who came here with a request!” you exclaim, turning your back to Jungkook. You had enough of helping Jungkook over and over, you were so tired of picking the pieces of his life back up and putting it together. He had to understand that you had a life too. You had your own problems to take care of. Any time he messed up, he’d have to come to you for help.
Like that one time, when he and some of his friends got drunk and you had to help them clean up even though none of it was your fault. And that one time when he had driven a little too fast when you were over at his ‘castle’ and then he crashed into that one shop in town. And to top off the humiliation, since he was too much of a pretty boy to own up to his mistake, you had to hold a conference to explain the situation to the media and paparazzi. Of all the people, you.
It was getting ridiculous at this point and your head wouldn’t wrap around it. You knew he was irresponsible and maybe even careless, but still! He was going to become the next king and the kingdom depended on him. The future of his subjects depended on him. How could he risk being so careless?
“I’m leaving if you have nothing better to say,” you sigh and take a step to leave, but he catches your wrist, pulling you back. You groan. “Jungkook, I’m a person with my own problems. I can’t always be helping you,” you turn around to look in his eyes. You could see stars in them if you gazed deeper.
“I get it. But I trust you enough to let you know that mother is planning an arranged marriage for me,” your brows furrow at his statement. “What… do you—?”
“But I’m dating someone already.”
Your eyes widen in surprise. You take a moment to let yourself digest the new information. He was dating someone?
Okay, you two were close but never tried to get into each other’s love lives, and in addition, the man in front of you didn’t look innocent whatsoever, so he must’ve at least dated someone. But for him to tell you like this, it hurt a little.
It reminds you of how you were growing up and leaving your childhoods behind. You two had known each other for quite a long time and gotten so comfortable with one another. But to think that someday, you’ll be standing beside a man and him beside some woman of his liking, and the fact that, that one day was coming very soon — it hurt. It hurt to lose your friend over some stupid thing like marriage.
“But she’s a commoner. You know mother is strict about that stuff and…” he bit his pink lip, “I need you to buy me some time.” You raise a brow, and his hand finds yours. He looks at you, his eyes searching for confirmation. “You need me to buy you time? How?” you frown, your feelings conflicted. You wanted to help, this was some dire situation and if he got married to someone he didn’t love, then… it wasn’t worth it.
At the same time, this proved to be very hard. His mother, though a fun one similar to yours, was stern when it came to relationships. Her trust was especially hard to earn. But she did grow affectionate towards you since you had been with Jungkook since you were little.
“I want you to pretend to be my girlfriend and slow things down a bit.“
You look at the man in disbelief, motionless. Did you hear correct? Yes, maybe your mother teased you about being married to Jungkook for some while now, and maybe it did sound reasonable, but why of all people, did he want you? Multiple girls were dying to be his girlfriend already, should he not give them a chance?
“But why me?” you finally ask, looking at him with mixed feelings. “You’re the only princess my family knows and trusts. It wouldn’t be weird if I was dating you at all.” You roll your eyes at the last statement. “Jungkook, it would be weird if I was dating you,” you correct him. “Well, to you, yeah, but I don’t consider it impossible,” he grins. You pull your hand away from his, punching his arm.
“You’re dating someone already, you idiot!” you exclaim, frowning. He chuckles. “I’m not cheating on her. I already told her, and she’s not on the best terms with it, but she agrees,” he says. “So you can date me.” You huff at his arrogance, crossing your arms. “You know this is trouble, right?” you furrow your brows. “Yeah, and I’m up for it. So are you up for it?” you roll your eyes at his reply.
"I think you just want a chance at fucking me if I’m to be completely honest with you.“
“I like your honest side.“
“You’re in a relationship!“
“With you, yeah.“
“Oh my God…” you sigh. You wondered who would date such an idiot. Then again, he is really handsome. Maybe you should be grateful for the opportunity.
———
You didn’t know when you agreed for it, but you just did and now you are dating Jeon Jungkook. You decided to tell your family about it that night at dinner, after discussing the details with Jungkook. Hyun-ae, who is his girlfriend as of currently, was a commoner he had met at an expensive club he had gone to.
She had garnered his interest and the two began dating in secret. They have been now dating for two years, though in private. Neither of them have shown any sign of getting the relationship to a different level, and they both need some time to relax and think of ways to finally bring the truth into the light without any prejudice taking place.
That is where you come in. You will pretend to be Jungkook’s girlfriend so his mother can stop finding suitors and give him some air to breathe, simultaneously giving him time to think of a plan. You will need to slow down the process as much as you can, making excuses to make sure that the wedding day does not approach. Because in the end, it’s not you who is going to get married to Jungkook. It’s Hyun-ae.
Or that’s what he told you about the plan.
It was wrong on many levels, and if you weren’t as dear to your families as you were, you both would receive great punishment for it — maybe even death. But it wasn’t going to go that far. It would be done in a few months at most. Or that’s what you told yourself, anyway.
Taking a seat at the dinner table, you smiled at your mother and father, and then looked towards your cheeky older brother, Seokjin. You liked to call him Jin for short. He is likely going to go ecstatic over the fact that you were dating someone and you didn’t tell him, and going to go absolutely feral when he hears that it is actually Jungkook who you are “dating”. He was quite the overprotective brother. You turn to your father, taking a deep breath, you begin to speak.
“I wanted to… talk about something important to me,” you try sounding like you are authentic, and you seem to be failing badly, but you keep on going, mustering up all the strength. You forget even eating your food for a while, instead, turning to look at your three family members one by one.
"I am dating someone… with whom I want to take my relationship to the next level.“ You were inexperienced and stupid for doing all of this. Multiple times you thought of backing out, but this was for Jungkook. You felt bad seeing how far you were going for him but he never even returned it. Or sometimes he did. But this was a big favor you were being asked. Your mother and father look at you with wide eyes, though Jin continues to eat, making sure to look up at you once in a while — making sure you know he’s listening too.
“I’m very sorry I didn’t mention him before,” you look at all of them one by one, “but I am in a serious relationship,” it hurt to lie to everyone like this. What fool would fall for your dramatic acting? Who knew… but you certainly had all of their attention now.
“Who is it…?” your mother asks very quietly, at least they weren’t objecting to it. You sigh heavily.
“Jungkook.“
Their expressions were something you couldn’t analyse. They were thoroughly surprised, yes, and at the same time, another emotion you couldn’t quite grasp — approval? You couldn’t put your finger on it, but maybe that was it. Jin stops eating to look at you instead.
”Jeon Jungkook? That one Jungkook you’re friends with?” you feel bad for playing like this, but what was done was done and you were doing this for Jungkook. “Which other Jungkook would I know?” you don’t know how exactly to react so you smile lightly at Jin, then look back towards your parents, who are still staring at you. “So… Jungkook recently told me that his mother is picking a girl for him…” you bite your bottom lip, “but she doesn’t know about us and—” you begin to speak, but your mother cuts you off.
“I’ll talk with her.” And what you don’t expect is the smile that’s on her face. Did you really just fool them like that? They believed you so easily. Was it this easy to lie? It left you with chills.
“In fact, you and your mother can leave for their kingdom in the morning. Make sure to tell Jungkook about it,” your father spoke up. Everything seemed to be going to plan. Jungkook did say he wanted you to visit the castle and that he’d tell his parents all of this too. So you supposed your job was done. But to think that you were fake-marrying your childhood friend, it all felt so wrong.
“I will…” you respond quietly and continue to eat dinner as nothing had transpired. You felt so bad for doing all of this. Seeing the smiles on your parents’ faces, the laughter of Jin — they didn’t think it was weird at all for you to marry Jungkook. So he was right. Maybe people could see you and Jungkook together. Childhood sweethearts, mayhaps? You still didn’t know how.
As soon as you finish dinner, you turn to leave to your room and tell Jungkook about everything.
[Y/N]: I told everyone. We’re coming tomorrow.
Your kingdoms were right next to each other. It was very easy to reach to his by car. Yes, it would take some hours but you considered travel fun. And you’d probably fall asleep in the car anyway. You thought about packing your things and decided to do that while you waited for Jungkook’s message.
You were done pretty quickly, you didn’t need to pack much. Some clothes here and there, and some other things you thought you’d need. You didn’t know how long you were staying there for, but if anything was needed, you know they could provide it for you at his place. You sank down on the bed and picked up your phone, which lit up while you were closing your bag. He was calling you.
“What is it now?” you ask, a little annoyed as you put the phone to your ears. “Are you mad because you have to actually work now, pillow princess?” you could practically hear him grinning. It wasn’t very nice. “Be grateful. I’m helping you. No one could do this,” you roll your eyes. He chuckles lightly, changing the topic. “How did your parents believe it though? You’re such a bad actor,” he queried. “Well, I’m not as bad as you think. Somehow. I did make them believe it.“
“Jungkook, you know this is trouble. What if they find out…? What if we get into trouble?” you frown, but he doesn’t seem to think of it in that way. You aren’t surprised. “It’s fine! Lighten up, pillow princess.” You huff, feeling anxious about the situation. Your mother and father — even Jin. They would all be so disappointed in you. You helped Jungkook marry a commoner.
“That’s because you get something good from this if it works out! You get to be with the love of your life while I get scarred forever,” you say hotly before your voice turns meek. You won’t be able to sleep tonight, thinking of all of this and freaking out over it. And Jungkook knows that fact too, knowing you well enough to pick up on it. “I’m sorry. I didn’t think of that.” Of course, he didn’t.
“Because you’re a self-obsessed bloke,” you reply dryly. He snickers a little, making you smile ever so lightly. “I guess I am. We’re in this together, Y/N. I never want you to be alone.” It was moments like these when you questioned why Jungkook made your heart skip a beat. Or why he even said things like these. Maybe he knew his words mattered a little more to you than you let on. Or perhaps he simply wanted to pull at your heart.
“Yeah, right,” you say quietly, “tell that to me when you get married to Hyun-ae and I still don’t get a boyfriend,” you smile despite your words, wanting to relive these moments when you grew older.
Time just passed so quickly. You never noticed when you became a teen, and then an adult, and now you’re supposed to get married soon — well, not really. You’re just faking it. But still, the actual day isn’t that far either. You’ll find someone soon enough. Or so you hoped.
“Anyway… I better get my beauty sleep now,” you hear him laugh into the phone. “What’s so funny with that?” you frown. “It’s nothing. I’ll see you tomorrow then. Good night.” You smile.
“Okay… Goodnight.“
“Yeah, goodnight.“
“Mhm, goodnight.“
“Goodnight.“
"God, just hang up already!” you exclaim, making him shout even louder. “You hang up!” that one hurt your ears badly. You groan. “Fine!” giving up, you end the call. Jungkook was the most annoying human being you had come across, but that didn’t mean you didn’t care for your friendship.
He was just a tease and a knuckle-head sometimes. Though you appreciated him for exactly that — being stupid. After getting ready for bed, you try to calm down your nerves and prepare yourself mentally for pretending to be Jungkook’s girlfriend. The words tasted bitter on your tongue.
It didn’t feel right to pretend like this, but you couldn’t do much than just following Jungkook and praying that everything will go well to a God you didn’t believe in.
Closing your eyes, you began wishing for a better tomorrow.
———
You didn’t even notice how you got into the car next day to drive away to Jungkook’s, but you simply guessed you did, and the next thing you knew was that you were approaching the borders of the ruled land. It was beautiful, just as thriving and prosperous as the last time you had seen it.
From the window of the limousine, you could see the merchants and traders, the millions of shops that lined the roads. Even the townspeople were friendly, you had known since they were always very sincere and understanding of Jungkook’s mistakes.
The residential area was your favourite. You loved seeing their green gardens even though they were very small in comparison to the one you knew. The colourful roofs of the houses always brought a smile on your face. The rule was well-established under Jungkook’s parents, and you just hoped he could continue it. You had high hopes for him.
The car steadily made its way to the castle, prior to stopping a little way before it. You got out of the car alongside your mother, slightly nervous. You had almost forgotten what you were here for. Some guards made sure of your identities before they escorted you to the door and took your luggage inside, while Jungkook, his younger brother, Junghyun and his parents were standing in the foyer.
Your father hadn’t come, for he had some important businesses to take care of. You didn’t think ruling was easy, so he was justified. Jin stayed behind too, accompanying your father like the crown prince he is and learning the art of kingship.
Meanwhile, you were agreeing to be fake-married to your childhood friend. You sigh, then help yourself to a plastered smile as you approach the family. You and your mother curtsy and you let your mother do the talking. You weren’t here to embarrass yourself, that’s for sure. You look towards Junghyun and Jungkook, who are both looking towards you. You give them a light smile, but your eyes just seem to be moving back to Jungkook. You do hope what you’re doing is right.
“Ah, Y/N, why don’t you and the boys talk for a bit while we do too?” Jungkook’s mother addresses, making you nod furiously. You are guided inside by the two brothers while your mother and their parents walk towards the living room. It dawns over you that you’re supposed to act like a couple since Junghyun is here and even he doesn’t know of the truth, so your hand just finds Jungkook’s.
Holding your hand, Jungkook leads you towards his bedroom gently. Junghyun follows alongside you, apparently just as fooled as his parents, talking of all the memories you three had made. He wasn’t wrong; certainly, you had spent your childhood with Jungkook and Junghyun. Junghyun wasn’t much younger than Jungkook, but a difference of some years still remained, though most went unnoticed, seeing as Jungkook was just so unexplainably youthful.
“Or that one time when Jungkook stole your chocolate and you started crying?” Junghyun chuckles, but you need not be reminded of the moments you had cried. All for some chocolate and all because of a bratty Jeon Jungkook. You roll your eyes.
“Please~! I don’t want to remember that. I cried for this jerk—” you catch yourself just in time before you say something else. Junghyun looks at you, a bit startled. But before you say something to justify yourself, he simply laughs again.
“It’s good to see that you haven’t lost your fun relationship with him. You’ve just made it stronger.” You nod wearily at his words, smiling while your heart wrenches at seeing the world be fooled. “Tell me, how did you fall in love with my dimwit of a brother? He really is lucky to have you—"
"That’s enough, isn’t it, Junghyun?” for the first time in a while, Jungkook spoke up in the conversation. “But I do want to know!” Junghyun frowns.
You laugh at his adorable expression. When you were near a cute Junghyun, you doubted anyone could ever reject his request. You begin to speak, even though you held no particular feelings towards Jungkook himself in that way. “I’ll tell you,” you smile, “your brother,” you hold onto his hand a little tighter while you think.
“Your brother is a softie. Even though he looks like the type of person to fight you if you wake him up when he doesn’t want to be.” Junghyun chuckles lightly at your words. “Is he? He’s never that way towards me,” you felt how Jungkook’s fingers intertwined with yours. Was it a signal to stop, or maybe keep going? Or did you really say something true? You didn’t pick up on that one.
“He is,” you reply with a quick smile, before Jungkook stops in his tracks, making you stop too. “We’re here,” the male speaks and then turns around to Junghyun. “Your job is done. Thank you for accompanying Y/N. I’ll be taking her now,” the grin on Jungkook’s face did tug at your heart, you weren’t going to lie. Junghyun did protest like a little child, but he left soon enough.
By that time, you were sitting on Jungkook’s bed, waiting for Jungkook to close the door so you could talk to him about the whole situation.
“You okay?” he asks, coming to sit down next to you after closing the door. “I’m fine. Just…” maybe it was for the fact that you were pretending to be Jungkook’s girlfriend. Maybe that’s why you flinched whenever he came close to you, maybe that’s why you felt so different being in his room, despite being here countless times before.
“I’m just tired. There’s no good ending to this, Jungkook… I’m tired,” you look towards him, suddenly tears flood your eyes. You don’t know why you are suddenly on the verge of crying. Maybe it’s because you were pretending?
“I see those happy expressions on my parents’ faces… they don’t fake it, Jungkook,” his expression softens at your words. A little part of you knew that your tears were Jungkook’s weakness. Whenever you didn’t feel good, he’d get incredibly worried. You didn’t cry as much in front of him anymore, but you hoped that he didn’t change. That he still cared for you, even if a little bit. That’s what you hated about growing up, you would have other people in your heart, and Jungkook would have others. You wouldn’t care as much for each other anymore. And that fact scared you.
Seeing you act so small, Jungkook couldn’t believe his eyes. He puts your head against his chest, hugging you side-ways. He didn’t know you were so pressured by his request. It wasn’t something small and he wouldn’t trust anyone but you with it. He did care a lot for you. And he wanted you to know that, even if he acted like an imprudent, idiotic friend sometimes. He had asked a little too much of you and he was coming to understand that. But the damage had been done.
How could he reverse the action? There was no way. You were stuck with him till he revealed the truth, and the mere thought of you crying hurt him. It was painful to see you cry, even for an over-confident, cold person like Jungkook. He had made you cry, just because he was too scared to tell his family the truth, and he was scared he might not be accepted for dating someone that wasn’t of a noble or royal family.
He would try to tell the truth very soon, he promised to you mentally. He would do anything, to tell the truth when the right time comes. He just hoped you were willing to wait for that long.
“Shh,” he hushes, running his hand through your hair in gentle strokes. You smiled a little. At least you had someone. It was better than being alone. “I know that. I know and I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry for asking you something like this. Hyun-ae and I just weren’t ready. And what I did makes me look like a complete idiot, so I’m very sorry for being so inconsiderate towards you. I really… appreciate that you’re going this far for me."
Your efforts, at least, were recognised. That is what made it all the better. The door was being knocked on.
While you made sure your make-up was intact, Jungkook opens the door. It’s Junghyun’s voice from what you can hear. "Fine,” Jungkook says, closing the door and turning to you. You raise a brow, wondering what’s the problem now. “Mother wants us to talk to the media and announce our marriage. They agree with it."
The way he spoke the words made your cheeks taint with pink. You weren’t expecting it to be so soon, but your families knew each other very well, so it was no surprise. You were really going to fool the world now. It was happening, and the nerves instantly came back from last night.
Taking a deep breath as you fixed the last of your make-up and took a final look in the mirror after your breakdown, you turn towards Jungkook.
"Okay. Let’s go.”
By the time you were standing in front of the crowd of reporters and paparazzi, your nerves had taken complete control of you.
Jungkook’s and your mother explained the situation to the media while you stood a little to the side, your hand in Jungkook’s. He said it would emphasise the relationship, but you weren’t very sure of that. You just wished he knew the risks.
“When are you planning to hold the wedding?” one reporter asks, his voice ringed out the loudest. Sometimes, when they thought you weren’t looking, the paparazzi would take a picture of your intertwined hand with Jungkook. Everyone’s eyes turn expectantly at his mother at the question.
“I’m scared,” you whisper to Jungkook, hoping he hears.
It wasn’t like voicing out your emotions rid you of the situation, but it did make you feel better when Jungkook squeezed your hand. “It’s okay… calm down.” Jungkook’s mother thought quietly for a moment.
“The wedding date hasn’t been decided as of yet, but it will take place as soon as possible — it depends on the preparations. But I’d say very soon.” You didn’t know what very soon meant, but you doubt it was good for the plan.
“Could we have a picture of the couple?”
Your cheeks turn pink at the word, flustering you. Maybe you’d never get used to this till it ends.
You did find the idea of having a partner nice, but Jungkook as that partner? You had never thought about him that way. But then again, you guess it wasn’t that impossible to think of your relationship accelerating. The way he genuinely laughs, the smile on his dimpled face, the fact that he does care for you — it all ignited this small fire inside you. Maybe being his partner wasn’t that far off.
Jungkook’s mother nodded to the question, and all the cameras had turned towards you and Jungkook before you knew it. “Are we going to pose or—?” you ask hastily, making him look to you with a light smile. For the first time, you hope that the smile meant something more than just a mask.
Putting his arm around your waist, his lips catch yours unexpectedly. For the sake of the plan, you close your eyes and try not to act surprised, but you didn’t deny the fact that your heart was racing. His soft lips, and the way he smiles ever so sweetly while kissing you, it all starts to become so precious to you. You were wrong when you thought about who’d want to be his girlfriend — who wouldn’t want to be his girlfriend?
The kiss, gentle and at the same time, passionate, lasted longer than you had expected it to. Probably because there were a lot of cameras and he wanted to make sure they all got a picture. You didn’t mind it at all though. Dare you say it, you loved it. It was like a little taste of something you had never tasted before. It left you wanting more, even if it was only a little bit you’d receive. But you were going to hold a grudge against him and yourself for this one. He had a girlfriend, already, for God’s sake.
“Do tell us what it is you love about princess Y/N?"
The question must have caught both of you out of the blue, because you turn to each other at the same time. Everyone turns to you two, and in the heat of the moment, Jungkook decides to speak up. "I love Y/N. We’ve had so many memories together. Spent our whole lives next to each other, basically,” you had been freaking out on the inside till he had started speaking. Thankfully, no one seemed to get that from the plastered smile on your face.
“I love us. I love how she is so caring and helpful. She might be a bit annoying at times,” you elbow him, “but I love that side of her too. She’s the most precious to me.” You couldn’t help but take the words to heart. Now you desperately wanted to hear “I love Y/N” from his lips over and over again — but that would never happen. You were just getting your hopes up, and Jungkook was practically begging you to do that.
“What do you think about the crown prince?"
You start to fluster, trying to think of words. Why did they have to know all of this? You were going to make sure that on your real wedding announcement, these questions would be banned — why did it hurt when you labelled this relationship as fake? You were only taking this logically. The heart was naive.
"I think that Jungkook is great.” You try to come up with more, turning quiet. Jungkook’s hand finds yours again, intertwining once more. But why did it matter so much now? “He’s funny and energetic. He helps me loosen up. I…” you bite your lower lip, not able to say what you thought of. If you said “I love him,” would it stand out to him like it stood out to you?
“He’s the… most amazing person and I couldn’t ask for anyone better."
———
You slump down on the bed on your stomach as you reach Jungkook’s room after the horrible announcement, him following behind you. "You’re that tired, pillow princess?” you hear him say, and even if you can’t look at his face, you’re so sure he has that grin on his face like always.
You groan, turning to lay on your back. “I’m not tired. Do you know how horrible it went?"
"It went perfectly. Everyone thinks we’re dating. Now what you need to do,” he says as he leans down on the bed alongside you, “is to keep it going. Mother is really keen on having me take over the throne this year. Which, I suppose you know the rules, but you have to have a queen for that. Hence the rushed wedding. She says the engagement isn’t very important."
"But it is—” you cut in, though Jungkook doesn’t acknowledge the sudden interruption. “I agree with her. Do you want us to be legally bound before the wedding? Did you forget the actual plan?” you sigh. He was right. In the end, it wasn’t you who was going to get married to him. It was Hyun-ae.
“Right. You’re right. Why did you need this time anyway?” you ask, turning to Jungkook. You had totally forgotten about the kiss, but now remembering it, you couldn’t just pretend that it didn’t happen.
You were going to ask him about that too. “Hyun-ae needs to talk with her family about everything. I have to, too. I don’t know how to approach them right now… you know?” he answers calmly. “I almost feel like I’m being used."
Jungkook looks at you, then sighs. He pulls himself up to look over you. You feel a little exposed, but if this plan were to go smoothly, you had to be a good sport about it and help Jungkook. Even though he didn’t do anything back for you. If not for Jungkook himself, then for the bond you shared. It had to go this way.
"I’m sorry again.” The simple apology made you feel a little sad. “Not that I mind being used,” you laugh, sitting up. You realise how weird it sounds and shrug a little. “I mean… it’s good to be of use, right…? Help your friends?” you smile lightly at him, making him shake his head. “You’re too nice for your own good,” he says quietly, making you giggle. “That’s the first time I’ve heard it from you. Glad to know my efforts actually matter!"
"Your efforts do matter. Yes, maybe sometimes, I’m ignorant of the fact that you’ve saved my ass countless times, but I appreciate you. Please know that,” he smiles a little your way, making you smile back. Your thoughts wander back to the kiss, which still makes your heart race. Maybe it’s because you have never kissed Jungkook. Whatever the reason, your mind couldn’t wrap itself around the way his lips felt on yours.
A little part of you wanted to experience that feeling again, but that was wrong and you weren’t asking a taken man to kiss you. That was stupid, not to mention, awkward.
“So the kiss… Jungkook,” you can see how he tenses up at you bringing up the topic. It worries you. “You have a girlfriend."
"I know.”
“But you still kissed me."
"I know.”
“Why?” you ask bleakly, looking at him and hoping to receive the same back, but he doesn’t turn towards you. The air just gets a little chilly. It makes you nervous. “I had to make them believe us. Hyun-ae will understand. I know you hated it. I’m very sorry for that too,” you shake your head at his words. Choosing to ignore that he said you hated the kiss, you sigh.
“It’s fine. But you should check up with Hyun-ae. She’d feel very bad if you didn’t approach her about this."
You’d feel bad if you saw in the news that your boyfriend had kissed someone else and they were going to get married soon — even though it was fake and you knew. You’d still want your boyfriend to tell you about it, reassure the fact he still loved you. Hyun-ae was the victim in this situation, not you — having seen her boyfriend kissing someone she didn’t know all over the place, hearing it from everyone in town, yet still being able to do nothing about it, because she was not in the position to. You felt bad for her.
"You’re right… I’ll call her,” Jungkook gets up, taking his phone and leaving the room.
It felt a little empty without him, especially as it was his room. You had been here multiple times, but maybe it was his presence you wanted most. You shake your head. If you pretend to fall for Jungkook, maybe it will happen. And you didn’t want to fall for someone you couldn’t have.
Someone, who is so dear to you. It would just put both of you in trouble. And you wanted him to be married to someone he loved — that someone wasn’t you and you had to accept it.
———
Before you knew it, it was dinner time.
Jungkook had talked with Hyun-ae, and initially, she had been a little angry, but thankful that Jungkook had talked it out with her, so things were settled soon enough. Or that’s what you were told, anyway.
You sat down at the royal table to eat. It was a little larger than yours back at home, but nonetheless, the food looked delicious and you couldn’t wait to dig in. Midway through the dinner, Jungkook’s father spoke up.
“I believe that it would be good if you two spent more time looking around the kingdom together. Jungkook could show you the famous sites,” his father turns to you, and you give him a slight nod with a smile. Wonderful — more time to spend with the annoying Jeon Jungkook. You turn towards the said boy, who seems to be eating his dinner quietly. Very unlike himself.
“That works… and about the rooms,” you say, starting to play with your food out of nervousness. “Where will I sleep?” you ask quietly, though everyone seems to hear it loud and clear. Jungkook turns to you instantly, and you could see the worry in his eyes. Worry for what, you did not know. “Room? Won’t you sleep in Jungkook’s room?” his mother speaks, making you bite your tongue. You shouldn’t have said that. But you didn’t want to share the room with Jungkook. That would be awkward.
“I was thinking of that, I just—” you bite your bottom lip, then shake your head. There was no explaining it. If you didn’t shut up now then everyone would catch on. “It’s fine, I’ll share the room with Jungkook,” and you supposed the bed, but you hoped it wouldn’t be the case. “Anywho, when are we going to visit the sites?” you change the topic abruptly, mustering a smile.
You did not dare to look at Jungkook.
After dinner, you opted to spend time in Jungkook’s room. Clearing your head, you stood at the balcony near the railing. Jungkook’s father had decided that you’d be going to visit the famous sites tomorrow. It was certainly going to be interesting, seeing as Jungkook showed no liking to things like that. He’d probably take you to a fun ride instead. Or so you hoped, because you had no interest in seeing famous sites and learning their names either.
Sometimes you and Jungkook were two peas in a pod, and sometimes he felt like your polar opposite.
Everything was so hard to digest. Why were you agreeing to his plans, you didn’t even know the full tale. In the end, you knew it would give nothing but pain. So why did you agree?
You thought it was because you were trying to be a good friend. You had known Jungkook for so long. You appreciated whatever you had with him, and you supposed that was why. You wanted him to marry his love. And at the same time, losing him to Hyun-ae felt like hell.
Ultimately, that was his happiness. So you wanted him to marry the love of his life. The thought brought a smile to your face. But still, your heart wrenched. It was melancholic — you loved the thought of it, but you couldn’t see him getting married. Because that meant you were growing up. You wouldn’t be around each other anymore. Responsibilities would be burdening you. And in the end, the ties would be cut.
Well, not cut. They’d fade away. Time took everything from you. From everyone. But especially from you. You didn’t want to lose your friend to something as idiotic as marriage. You were surprised initially that he was even settling down — Jeon Jungkook was settling down for someone. Out of all the things you expected, that wasn’t one of them. He must really love her.
You wished you could experience that kind of feeling. Unconditional, pure love for someone. Wanting to be with them so bad. But whenever you thought about that, you’d just feel lost. There was no one you felt something like that for.
"What are you thinking of?“ Jungkook’s voice rings in your ear, making your thoughts disappear. "Just the… whole thing. About you marrying Hyun-ae,” you wonder if it came out wrong. If Jungkook would be mad at you for putting it that way. If he was offended. But he wasn’t. Instead, he approached you quietly, now standing alongside you.
“What do you mean?” you sigh at his question. “I meant… This is stupid,” you groan, unable to put your thoughts into words. “What I mean is… I don’t want to lose my friend. I am scared that… when you’ll get married… you’ll leave me. And seeing how things are going, I don’t think our kingdoms will be friends for much longer. We’re fooling everyone, Jungkook. They believe our lies,” you turn to him. It wasn’t a frown that you had on your face, it was fear for the future.
It was like a river was rushing through your head and heart. A bunch of emotions colliding with each other, washing away your comfort and peace. You were beyond scared. You had always imagined spending the rest of your life with Jungkook — but that was always as friends. Now, you weren’t sure what you were anymore.
“Imagine the chaos and betrayal. Everyone will lose their trust in us. They will make fun of you. Fun of me. Fun of our families. And you’re doing this just because… what? You want a common girl?” the sentence came out harsher than you wanted it to be. Jungkook turns his head to you. You could feel poison seeping out of his eyes for a moment. It hurt you more than it should’ve.
“Don’t speak of Hyun-ae like that.” You sigh, nodding sarcastically. “Right. And you tell me who should I speak of like that? You or Hyun-ae? You’re both behind this! You’re ruining everything. You’re ruining your life, you’re ruining your future rule, and you’re ruining my life too!” you exclaim. “Keep it down or they’ll hear us,” Jungkook mutters.
“I’m a victim in this situation!” you speak even louder. “I’m scared for my life! I deserve to speak as much as I want. However loud I want. Do you know what you’ve put me through?! What I have to do?! All this pretending, these lies,” you stop to catch your breath, hands trembling. “It’s not going to end good, Jungkook. It’s not going to end well. Your plans are bound to fail, like always.” You were initially surprised that you spoke this far without getting interrupted. Jungkook didn’t speak up.
“You’ve ruined me. For once, at least once… be my saviour like I’ve been yours.”
You didn’t speak to each other that night after that.
He was your ride or die. He had never put anyone above you. But now it was clear. It was clear that he didn’t care for your life anymore — he had Hyun-ae now. He had her love and he didn’t mind whatever happened to your friendship. With those thoughts, you cried yourself to sleep that night on the bed.
———
It was day one of sight-seeing. Or more like, site-seeing. Jungkook had made himself comfortable on the floor last night. You woke up to find him laying on the ground, sound asleep. At first, you were shocked, but remembering the events of last night, the sorrow and tension just returned to you.
You shook him awake, and he retorted at first like he always did, but in the end, he did get up.
He was now going through his closet, trying to pick an outfit. It reminded you of how you still hadn’t unpacked. Your luggage had been put in Jungkook’s room and looking over your shoulder, you could see the two bags you had packed. They were small and cute, pink in colour. They stood out in the room, which was mostly of golden and brown hues.
The truth was that you were afraid of talking to Jungkook. Seeing as he didn’t care enough to initiate the conversation, it made you nervous. Had he really taken all of those things to heart? More importantly, you were asking yourself if you really did mean everything you had said.
Were you mad at him or was it the frustration of pretending to be something, someone you’re not?
Mentally telling yourself ‘screw it,’ you turn to Jungkook and clear your throat to gain his attention. He doesn’t stop looking for clothes through his wardrobe, but you saw him flinch ever so slightly when you did make a sound. You were going to say sorry. But was it really your fault?
You wondered why you were even saying sorry when it wasn’t even your fault. If anything, it was Jungkook’s. And Hyun-ae’s, someone that you hadn’t even met yet, but still she was ruining your life. You dismissed yourself again. You had to be a good friend.
“…I’m sorry about last night…” you begin speaking, making him stop in his actions. His face was hidden behind his arm, so you couldn’t see his expression. You were feeling really sick now. “I’m sorry about whatever I said,” even though it was all correct, “it was very inconsiderate of me,” it was very inconsiderate of him to ask you to do all this, “and I’m really at fault. I mean it.” You didn’t mean it.
He turns to you with a sigh, then sits down next to you on the bed. “It's… it’s fine. I know you wouldn’t mean those types of things, I just…” he bites his lower lip, clearly confused about his own emotions. “You just got defensive?” you ask bitterly, making him frantically shake his head. He stayed quiet for a moment. “Maybe you’re right — yeah — I guess…” he gives in, nodding lightly.
You click your tongue, “you know fights aren’t worth it. Let’s just… forget it, ‘kay? That never happened, okay?” you smile at him, he looks at you with uncertainty before he gives you a bright smile back. Bright just like himself. That’s one thing you loved about your friendship: you made up quickly. You loved that smile. You loved his laugh, the genuine one.
He was sarcastic and stupid, he did things that were, otherwise, outright reckless, but you loved that too. It was what made him… well, him.
That day was spent around the popular sites of the kingdom — he showed you a clocktower that was made by his great-grandfather. It reminded you of Big Ben, which was in England.
Next, you were shown the royal museum that held the edicts and some artefacts, which were used by the royal family. Some were swords used in ancient wars, some were cups of gold used by the previous kings, and the proclamations of some rulers were inscribed on scrolls.
You were shown around a lot of historical monuments too. It was quite boring, to be honest, and Jungkook’s father had one of the noblemen show you and tell you everything, so you couldn’t even do something fun. At least Jungkook’s snarky comments saved the day.
———
Day two had been switched up by Jungkook. He had told his father that ‘enough was enough’ and he ‘wanted to do something more fun’. So you guessed that’s how you got to the amusement park you were at now.
It was the largest one in his kingdom, no doubt quite expensive, with the rides you had seen. It was nicely decorated, with banners and streamers. Almost like a birthday party. But maybe the sight would’ve been more colourful if the paparazzi hadn’t swarmed you, shoving the cameras in your faces.
You held Jungkook’s hand tightly as you ventured through the crowd. You never knew Jungkook was good at archery. But apparently, he was. It was a little minigame and if you could hit all the points on the several boards, you could choose what prize you wanted — they were all plushies.
When he did hit all the points, he offered you to choose the prize for yourself. You knew exactly what you wanted. The cute pink bunny, which in the end, was named Cooky by Jungkook. Ironic.
You went on a rollercoaster next. It would be an understatement to say you were screaming all the way. Jungkook was surprised that your voice could even reach that high. “Only if you put me on a rollercoaster or put a cockroach on me,” you had replied, making him laugh as he dragged you to the next ride.
But you wished you had known that one ride could make you scream like no other.
It was a ship. A ship dangling in the air. Now you were told that it would swing forward and backward in the air, but that didn’t explain the horror enough.
“Jungkook, for the love of God, I swear I’ll give you all the banana milk you want, please don’t let me go, please don’t let me go, I’m gonna die—!” maybe you had forgotten to mention that those kinds of rides made you sick. Any time the ship swung forward was the mania. You felt like it would throw you out of it. You were clinging to Jungkook for your dear life, with him holding Cooky alongside you.
You felt like you’d die. Any time it swung backwards, you’d get the time to breathe and calm down, then prepare yourself for the next forward swing, but of course, you could never be prepared enough. In the end, you’d always scream your lungs out. Thankfully, Jungkook held onto you securely the whole time.
"It’s okay, it’s okay!” you heard his laugh follow. Your arms were around his thin waist, making sure you wouldn’t fall off. You felt like you were flying but it was worse. You were just praying you wouldn’t fall out and die.
At least Jungkook managed to whisper affirmative words, and you were able to catch a few in the loud wind. “It’ll be fine, I’m with you, it’s okay… I’m with you,” he kept on repeating. You were glad when the ride was over, and you had to be supported by a laughing Jungkook as you were quite dizzy after all that.
Your brain was buzzing and you couldn’t even see properly. In fact, you were shaking in your boots. That was the worst time of your life. And you never wanted to experience it again.
To calm things down a bit, Jungkook decided to go on the Ferris wheel next. Cooky was given to you and you hugged it the whole way to the ride. Getting into your cabin, you were finally able to take a breath of relief and organise your thoughts. Your hair was a bit of a mess, so you fixed that as best as you could. You still hugged Cooky tightly though. You were scared.
"The sunset’s pretty,“ you couldn’t believe the day had gone so fast as you spoke. Sunsets were always pretty romantic, so mentioning that just made you nervous. Jungkook smiled softly, nodding to your words. Seeing that smile on his face, it just made you feel all giddy.
At some point during the ride, the question turned from ‘why could everyone see you as a real couple’ to ‘who wouldn’t call you two a couple?‘
You were falling deeper and deeper into the abyss that was Jungkook. Yes, he was foolish and he made decisions even if he knew that they would result in bad things happening. He wasn’t the smartest, but his smile was adorable. His laugh was adorable. The way he held you was something you had started to like a lot more. You really did love everything he did — so were you in love?
No, of course not… or you thought. He had a girlfriend and it was stupid to be in love with a taken man. But he did ask you to act like his soon-to-be wife, so you were just going to use that to your advantage. Maybe you couldn’t be with him, but the moments you two had were precious to you.
And if you could have more of those, then you were satisfied. Love hurt and it didn’t always work out. And that was fine, so you wouldn’t try to make him fall for you.
You were sure that if he was meant to do that, then it could’ve been done a lot more sooner — before Hyun-ae had come into the picture.
"I really like it too.” His reply made you lose your train of thought. You smiled at him as he stared in the distance, looking a lot calmer than usual. Maybe the possibility of falling in love with your childhood friend wasn’t that low.
The kiss came back to you, memories of his soft lips flooding your mind. Heat rose to your cheeks, so you opted to conceal your blushing face by hiding it behind the giant pink bunny that was Cooky.
Maybe you wouldn’t mind falling for Jeon Jungkook.
———
Each and every day, you felt like you were falling more and more for his beautiful smile. His oblivious laugh. His sparkling eyes. He may have been intimidating, but he was the softest person you knew. He was caring and gentle.
He was protective of those he cared for. Just like you. Just like Hyun-ae.
At one point, you had told yourself to stop falling for him. Like it was even possible. But still, you distanced yourself from him. Or you had tried to. You had told yourself that he was taken, it was stupid to fall for him, you couldn’t do it. You couldn’t bear being hurt. But the heart never listened to anyone. You just felt yourself wanting more and more from him.
You had always thought that your ‘soulmate’ must be out there somewhere, just waiting for you to come along. But now that you were falling deeper into the spiral, it eventually changed to ‘my soulmate lives in the kingdom next to mine and we’re ‘best friends’.’
But that didn’t mean it didn’t hurt. It hurt. It hurt so much. It killed you inside when you realised you couldn’t be with him. It absolutely devastated you. You hated it. But at the same time, you were happy. Wasn’t that love? Being happy because your loved one is. Smiling because he smiled. Laughing because he laughed. Living because he did. That was certainly how you felt.
"Tonight, we’re going out,” Jungkook says one unexpected night. You look at him with furrowed brows, confused. You had been continuing the site-seeing but you hadn’t been out at night. “Why? Where?” you blurt out, caught off-guard by the sudden exclamation.
Jungkook shifts closer to you hastily. “We’re alone, Guk. Seriously. No one is going to overhear you. We’re in your room,” you roll your eyes, but you don’t forget that your heart is racing because of how close he is to you. “We’re going to the club tonight.”
The seductive whisper wasn’t even the thing that sent chills down your spine. It was the fact that you were going to the club. And if you didn’t know better, you would’ve asked which club, but you knew it was the one Hyun-ae worked at. You felt a little unready for the whole occasion, to be honest.
“I— but what about your parents? What will we tell them?” you ask nervously, making Jungkook chuckle. Who were you kidding, he had probably taken care of that. He was just the best when it came to the worst things.
“Junghyun will take care of it. I told him to make up an excuse. He doesn’t know which club we’re going at anyway. Neither does he know about Hyun-ae,” you couldn’t ignore how sweetly he pronounced her name. Like she was something so precious, just an absolute treasure to him. You wished he called you like that.
“Okay.”
So that’s how you got to the club. It was jammed with people. You guessed that common clubs would be even more jammed. You saw people of high status dancing to the beat of the music on the dance floor, some had their lips on others’, some were downing glasses by the second. The overall situation was just sensual.
“This way,” with your hand in Jungkook’s, you were led to the bar where Hyun-ae worked at.
“Jungkook!” she was beautiful. In the dim lighting, you couldn’t see her especially well, but she was drop-dead gorgeous from what you did see. If you weren’t aware of her social status, you may have thought she was a princess working at a bar or something. Her voice was soft but clear, it was like music to your ears.
You were taken to a more secluded corner of the club, where Jungkook’s hand left yours. You felt yourself missing the touch instantly. He stood next to Hyun-ae now. Of course, she was his main priority. You were guessing the night was going to be a long one.
“So you’re Y/N?” you nod to her words, before realising that she probably couldn’t see that well either and decide to speak up. “Yeah,” you say. A little piece of your heart was on fire right now. It was hurting so much. This was the girl he was going to marry. After everything, she was the end goal. You bite your lip in an effort not to break down. You kept telling yourself you were happy for him.
But you weren’t. You were hurt. You wanted him to always be there like he had. You were being selfish and you hoped he’d forgive you for it. “It’s great to meet you. I’ve heard a lot about you from Jungkook,” Hyun-ae giggled afterwards. “Thank you for being a good friend to Jungkook,” you could see her outline move closer to Jungkook’s. She wrapped her arm around Jungkook’s affectionately. You nodded slowly, then sighed.
You wanted to cry. Why did you agree? Jungkook’s adorable laugh as Hyun-ae put her arm around his — it was contagious. That was how you knew it was real. “I-It’s nothing, really. I appreciate Jungkook as a friend too…” you say quietly. Even your words were like a dagger to your heart. Your poor heart suffered too much.
You excused yourself as they started to say their ‘I love you’s. You didn’t want to hear it. You didn’t want to suffer more than you already had. Trying to hold back your tears, you blamed yourself for falling too hard, too deep. Your heart was pounding against your chest. You just wanted to hold him. You just wanted him but even that seemed too much to ask for.
You can barely stand up yourself, so you take support from the counter of the bar. “Some long island iced tea, please,” you mutter to the person at the counter, who prepares you the glass and you gulp it down within a matter of seconds, hoping it would ease the tightness of your chest. You knew you were going to get badly drunk, but it didn’t matter anymore. As long as you didn’t have to be sad today. It certainly did help.
You felt better. The liquor was washing away your sorrows. Your mind felt a little fuzzier. You order one more glass. Just one more couldn’t hurt. You drink that one down too, but this time leisurely, feeling a lot more free and careless.
The surroundings were becoming more blurry by the second. You felt light-weighed. Your tipsy self walked over to the familiar corner of the club, where you saw Jungkook and Hyun-ae on their own. Tugging on your friend’s jacket, you try to balance yourself with his support. “Y/N? Are you already drunk?” he asks, but his voice seems so distant that you just want to be lulled to dreamland at this point.
“No, of course… I'm… not drunk… not… yet?” you say, more as a question than a definite answer. Jungkook sighs. Well, this was bound to happen. He knew you didn’t handle alcohol very well, but how bad exactly, he wasn’t sure.“What did you have? Are you okay? Should I take you home?” you nod slowly to his words, but your brain didn’t register anything. “Two… iced teas… the long island ones…” you take the moment to appreciate the way Jungkook’s hands kept you up. You’d slide down to the ground if it wasn’t for him.
"Seriously?“ he muttered something to Hyun-ae afterwards, but you didn’t catch it. "Let’s go… and sleep, I’m really tired…” you hadn’t even been there for half an hour. Yet still, you couldn’t keep yourself up anymore. "And let’s sleep on the same bed… okay? Don't… sleep on the floor this time… I’m worried you might catch a cold…”
“I get it, let’s go,” Jungkook’s frustration was clear. But your drunk self didn’t seem to mind it all. He said some more things to Hyun-ae, whose distorted expression was something between concern and jealousy. Or so you hoped it was jealously, because you hated her. You absolutely loathed her. Everything about her.
You were finally taken back to the castle unnoticed.
“Why do we lie, Y/N?” Jungkook asks, you’re almost asleep but his question wakes you up. As he had said, he was going to sleep with you tonight. Every other night, you kept on switching between who’d take the floor and who’d take the bed. He was the one who mostly took the floor, but this night, things were different.
“I don’t know… why are you asking me… I don’t lie…” you mumble through your sleep, eyes shut gently. “Everyone lies,” hearing Jungkook’s statement, you snicker. “I don’t, suck it up…” you reply. “Right. So you don’t. But why do others lie?” he repeats.
“Because… hmm… depends…” you shift a little in the warm bed, blanket over your body. Jungkook was sitting on the bed, his back supported by the pillow as he didn’t feel the need to sleep just yet. His phone was in front of him. You wanted him to play you some melodies but that was probably too much. Enough destruction had been done today.
“Sometimes we lie… because… we want to make others happy…” you pause, drifting more into sleep. “And other times?” Jungkook beckons you to continue. “Well… other times… we lie because… we don’t want to get into… trouble.“
"Oh,” Jungkook blurts out, making you reach out absent-mindedly, and punch his arm. Or it felt like his arm anyway. “Like you do. But there’s one other time we lie…” Jungkook’s eyes were on you. You could feel them. “When we… want something from someone else. When we are using them."
"Now play me some music, please… some soft… sweet music."
"I’ll sing for you."
"Yes please…"
"And you bless me with the best gift, that I’ve ever known, you give me purpose.”
———
Lately, things had been very hard. Jungkook’s mother wasn’t joking when she had said that the wedding would be held as soon as possible. You were hogged with what to wear, make-up, hairstyles, and everything.
You told her to take it slow as Jungkook had advised you to do, but she was very keen, just like you had thought. Side by side, your mother was in favour of everything too.
To calm things down a bit, you told your mother and his mother that you and Jungkook would be going sightseeing again. It was the only way you could get out and breathe some fresh air. Most girls would be excited for their wedding day, but you wanted to postpone it as much as possible — well, it wasn’t yours, to begin with.
The crowd was really bad this time. You were visiting the statue that Jungkook’s grandfather had apparently built. It was a man, young from what you could see, made of some sort of metal, maybe bronze or gold, but you weren’t sure. He held up a sword in the air, which reminded you almost of winning a war and doing your victory pose. Or maybe you had been playing a lot of Overwatch with Jungkook.
News of your wedding was all around the kingdom now, you guessed it was like that in yours too.
Jungkook’s hand was holding yours. But perhaps not as strongly. Everyone kept asking questions and screaming names, you may have heard some death threats too. Possibly fangirls of the prince, you guessed. The crowd’s force was so strong, even the few guards you had brought weren’t strong enough to hold them back. Should’ve brought more guards, the same thought recurred.
Your hand left Jungkook’s in the midst of all the shouts and screams, and pushing and pulling. You were drawn back in the crowd, with no one noticing that you were outside the swarm now.
Frantically, you ran around the circle of people, trying to get in but everyone was so used to forcing their way through, you couldn’t even get back to your friend. The word tasted bitter on your lips. You sigh, hastily running to another side before your eyes settle at the cafè that’s beside the other shops in the area.
Hyun-ae. You could recognise her in the bright daylight. She was there with someone. A man, a man whose face was half-covered by the mask that he was wearing over his mouth. One you didn’t know.
You step closer to the window, where their seats were at. Maybe you could hear them? Who was he? You didn’t want to jump to wrong conclusions, they could be siblings or cousins… or maybe even friends, who knows? But the sick feeling that you get at the pit of your stomach tells you something else entirely.
Your breath is basically non-existent as you step closer, and the two don’t notice you. You stand next to the glass window, your back supported by the wall. You hope no one is recording you. You hope you don’t turn up in the newspapers, accused of eavesdropping. But you have to do this for yourself. For yourself and Jungkook. Besides, the reporters were a little too biased towards Jungkook and what he did rather than your doings.
“I asked him for some more time,” her voice was just the same you had remembered it. It was still beautiful, and while you had only met her once, it was short, and days have passed since then, you could still recognise it. The only difference was that now it was infusing with your blood like poison. You hated her voice, her being.
Your stomach started to churn and do back-flips. Your insides were burning. You felt almost bad for Jungkook. Was she the only one who needed time? Was that why you were dragged into this?
“I don’t want to marry him. But I need to become queen,” you hear her whine. “Ah, Jagiya~ it’s okay,” the male’s voice was indistinguishable. You didn’t know who he was. “But I want to marry you! But you’re just not… enough. You’re not as rich. You’re not a prince,” she frowned.
What was more stupid was that she was right near where Jungkook was. Did she expect him to show up and break up with her? How’d she ever become queen then? You wondered what her motive was.
“Plus, I hate that friend of his. He’s always talking of her and she seems to be the type of person who talks all about him too.” That wasn’t a surprise. While it did make your heart flutter when you heard that he was talking of you to his girlfriend, that wasn’t what mattered right now. What mattered was that Jungkook was dating a cheater and it was stupid of him to waste his energy on someone like her.
Tired and obviously angry, you give Jungkook a message to meet you at the car. Your anger was beyond measure. Feeling like you heard something you should not have, you didn’t know how to feel. You were scared, most of all. You finally find the car and get inside, tapping your foot with irritation.
The car door opens and Jungkook sits inside. The driver starts up the car and you’re taken back to the castle.
“Are you okay?” Jungkook asks you when you get to his room. You avoided all of his questions in the car. You didn’t want to speak of the matter in front of the driver.
"Hyun-ae is cheating on you,“ you say, and while you aren’t even the one in the relationship, your eyes flood with tears. You’re worried about Jungkook. You love him. You love him and you don’t want him to be heartbroken.
"What?” he blurts out, turning to you with surprise. You lock your tear-filled eyes with his blank ones. “Hyun-ae is cheating on you. I saw her. I saw her, she was with another man… she’s…” you bite your lip, looking away. You felt pity above all. Pity for Jungkook.
And here you thought you were the victim. That you were being used. But it was all along Jungkook, controlled like a puppet, the strings in Hyun-ae’s hands.
“…she's… u-using you.” Jungkook stays still at the words. He didn’t want to speak. His heart fell. “You must have seen someone else,” he replies, plastering a smile. “There’s a lot of people who look like Hyun-ae."
"But she sounded like her too."
"She couldn’t be. She loves me,” you walk closer to Jungkook, shaking your head. How badly you wanted to scream that she didn’t love him like he thought. “How do I tell you…? I should’ve recorded it… I should’ve taken pictures… I know… but… I was too shocked… I’m so sorry,” you look deep in his eyes. For once, you don’t see twinkling stars. You see darkness — emptiness — and that spoke a ton about how he felt.
“T-Tell me you’re lying. Hyun-ae… she couldn’t do that.” You sigh heavily, and it still isn’t enough to let out the frustration you feel. “I’m not lying. She’s cheating on you. I swear I’m not lying,” you say meekly. “I wouldn’t ever lie to you."
"But you did.”
You stare at him, eyes wide. “What do you mean?” you ask, brows furrowing. "You meant everything you said that night. You said it was stupid of me to marry a commoner. I thought you were my friend…?“ your eyes widen more.
You shake your head in denial, but your voice doesn’t come out. "Friends support friends."
"I am supporting you! I’ve always supported you. You’re just blind in love,” you bite your lip, afraid you’d start crying. Jungkook turns quiet. “You can believe whatever you want to. Just know that I told you the truth. It’s Hyun-ae who—"
"Don’t speak in that way about Hyun-ae!” the loud shout shook you. You take a deep, uneven breath, sniffing. “You picked Hyun-ae over me again. Even if I’m not lying,” you wipe the tears in your eyes. “This was what I was afraid of.” Your heart hurt. It hurt like it never had. You felt like your breath was being taken away, like you were suffocating.
"I don’t want to do this anymore. It’s a lost cause.”
———
It had been days since then. Jungkook and you had separate rooms now. You had requested that of Jungkook’s mother and she agreed. Everyone could sense that something was wrong, because you both kept shut in your individual rooms. Though no one would mention it. There was no sightseeing, no communication between you and Jungkook.
You’d go to give him food but he’d never open the door. In the end, it was left at his doorstep.
"Y/N, darling, we should go shopping for your dress, no? The wedding is real close,” and did you forget to mention that the wedding was coming really fast now? Unlike yourself, Jungkook was in his room all day. He didn’t get out of it for a single moment. You sometimes got up to go out because your mother told you so.
“Sure…” the wedding was supposed to held in a wedding hall, and you had decided upon going for a more western style. A white dress, made to perfectly suit you. It all felt a little useless now. You weren’t even going to be married to Jungkook anymore. There was no point, but the others didn’t know.
Jungkook didn’t know.
As your mother would show you pretty dresses and awe over them as they fit your wedding theme, you’d think of what Jungkook would be doing. Was he crying? Was he sad? Or was he happy? Was he playing Overwatch, or maybe he was talking to Hyun-ae. Maybe that last thought wasn’t as soothing as the rest. At least every time you gave him food, he’d take it inside. Hopefully, he was eating well. He’d never open the door to anyone though, not while they were standing there.
You sigh, pick any dress that comes to mind and show it to your mother. Your mind just kept zooming back to Jungkook. He hadn’t taken his attire yet, had he? A little part of you felt disgusted because while he was heartbroken, or so you thought anyway, you were picking out a dress for the wedding. And while you did love him, you just wished you could fix everything.
Maybe in another universe, in another world, some other time, you could be with him.
Getting back to the castle, you took the food tray you were offered from the kitchen and took it to Jungkook’s room. This was every day’s routine.
You knock on the door, taking a deep breath. You know he won’t open it, but a little part of you still thinks he considers it. He probably hates you though, no matter how much you deny the thought. “Jungkook… I brought food,” you say quietly, hoping he’d be able to hear it from the other side. Your heart was begging to just see his face again. He felt like a distant memory.
“Jungkook,” you knock the door again, but then stop, giving up. Putting down the tray, you hope he’ll take the food you left and leave.
You needed this to stop. You wanted him to hear from you again. You wanted to see his pretty face again. You wanted to hear his sweet voice again. Taking out your phone, you quietly muttered ‘screw it’ and texted Junghyun to tell him to meet up with you. You decided upon going to a cafè — not the same one as Hyun-ae’s, though. Just a random one that Junghyun recommended. You knew it wasn’t the same one as you entered. You didn’t want to confess in the castle. You were afraid someone would overhear. Plus it felt a little too confined. You wanted to get out and try to be a little happy for once. The castle felt like a jail of lies at this point.
“I want to tell you something…” you couldn’t believe you were doing it. “What?” you knew you could trust Junghyun. But to what extent? You were scared he might tell his parents, and then the news would quickly spread, but you had to do it. You knew you didn’t have Jungkook’s permission. But you weren’t going to back down now. For one, you didn’t need his assistance. You knew the truth. And secondly, it was far too late to turn back now.
“Promise me you won’t freak out,” you look at him with furrowed brows, and he nods slowly. “Okay… but… what are you—?”
“Is that princess Y/N?” you freeze. The news reporters. You could hear them approaching you. And for once, you felt frustrated. Why this place, of all of them? You get up, taking Junghyun’s hand, you get out of the cafè, where the swarm of reporters is already gathering. “Why are you holding prince Junghyun’s hand?” one asks. You take a deep breath. “I—”
“Are you cheating> on prince Jungkook?” your eyes flood with tears. You wanted to scream, you wanted to tell them the truth. But you were the antagonist. You always had been. You were set to be the jealous person that fell in love. You were never the princess you truly were in real life. You could never even think of cheating on Jungkook. But with the way you held Junghyun’s hand, it was clear to the crowd.
“Can you explain your relationship with prince Junghyun?” another asks. “Are you cheating on prince Jungkook with prince Junghyun?” one more question came. You were deaf to all of them. You wished you were. You wished you were deaf to the accusations. You bite your lip in an effort to not break down, tearing at the seams. You were tearing at the seams.
Grasping Junghyun’s hand even tighter, you walk away from the crowd, pushing and making your way back to the sanctuary you once had.
———
“They blame me, Jungkook…” your lip was quivering as you spoke to the door. It was late at night. No one was roaming the corridors at this time, and it was dark. But you hoped, you hoped that Jungkook was hearing you. “I never cheated on you… I swear…” you break down. “I wish you could open the door. I hope you can hear me… but I never cheated on you…” you felt like you were going crazy.
You were desperate to shout out the truth. You were done living a lie. Living as a lie. “Please… Jungkook… we were in this together… you told me that I was never alone…” but you were alone. Alone and so much more. The cheating accusations had spread like a wildfire. But you weren’t cheating. You were telling the truth. You were trying to tell Junghyun the truth so he could help you. He was like a younger brother to you.
“Please open the door…” you sniff, breaking down more. Tears wouldn’t stop falling down your cheeks. “Everyone’s really worried for you too… I wish we could escape this. I wish we really could. I hope you’re okay…” you sob. You had a headache from crying. “I really hope you’re okay…” you bite your quivering bottom lip, “I care for you a lot. A lot. I really do.
"I love us too, Jungkook. But you’re making it hard for me to hang on.”
———
The castle was sombre. It had been like this for a while now. The royal families were trying to handle the situation, but the media had everyone fooled. Jungkook still hadn’t come out of his room, he’d never even take the food anymore. Junghyun had taken refuge in his room, he sometimes would come out. But whenever his eyes met yours, you could see the uncertainty they held.
You had given up on trying to tell anyone about the truth. You couldn’t do it without Jungkook. You wanted to die. You weren’t even living anymore. Just hanging between life and death. The food tasted stale because Jungkook wasn’t there. The room looked darker because Jungkook wasn’t there. Your heart always fell when you saw that the food tray hadn’t been taken inside by Jungkook.
His hands had held you. His arms had protected you. His eyes had made you smile. And his smile had made you laugh and feel all giddy. You couldn’t even blame yourself for falling for him — who wouldn’t fall for him? He was perfect, even with his imperfections, he was perfect.
Maybe the problem was Hyun-ae. Maybe it was her selfishness that led you all to this hell-hole. Or maybe it was you, caring a little too much for your own good.
It was the night before the wedding. You stopped in your tracks in front of Jungkook’s room. The door was as closed as it had ever been. The tray wasn’t touched even a little. You put the food aside.
“Jungkook. Tomorrow’s the wedding,” it wasn’t that late. He should’ve been awake. “Our plans have failed. I’m so sorry.” You turn quiet for a second. “I know you really wanted to marry Hyun-ae. You wanted to marry Hyun-ae and you loved her. You still love her,” it hurt to even say that, “but I failed you. I’m so sorry.”
“No, I’m sorry.” Your head perks up. Did you hear his sweet voice? It was him. Meek, but you could still identify it. “Why are you sorry?” you ask, trembling. You just wished he’d open the door and let you see him. It had been weeks. You couldn’t do it anymore. You couldn’t go by without seeing his beautiful face, his shining eyes.
“You were right. Hyun-ae was cheating on me.” You stare expectantly at the door, waiting for it to open but it didn’t. “How did you find out…?” you ask again. At least you were true. “One of the noblemen told me. His name’s Taehyung. We’re quite good friends. I told him to follow her. He saw it with his own eyes,” he answered. While you did feel sad that he didn’t believe you but he did believe Taehyung, you couldn’t blame him. He really did love Hyun-ae.
“What about… the wedding now?” you ask weakly, afraid to approach the topic. “I don’t know anymore. I gave you so much pain. I put you through so much. You agreed. You deserve a much better friend, Y/N,” you shake your head at his words. “You’re my best friend. And…” you bite your lip. Something in you told you that you weren’t as scared to say it now.
“And I love you.” There was silence on both sides. It was understandable. You wished you were less selfish. He was still going through a break-up, you should’ve been nicer and save it for later. But you had come to realise that later wasn’t a thing anymore. Whatever was going to happen, it had to happen now.
“I loved you too.” Your eyes widen. “I did. I thought you saw me just like a brother… so… I… I went to the bar. I saw Hyun-ae. She helped… she was like a rebound. I hate to put it that way, because I did like her too… but I don’t even deserve you after what I did. I realise now that I’m selfish. I’m self-obsessed. I shouldn’t have asked you such a big favour. I mean… I loved you. You don’t do that to the people you love.
"When I spent time with you, I felt like I was with my soulmate.” You didn’t speak. You were too scared to. “I felt like I was on cloud nine. You made me so happy, Y/N. I laughed the hardest when you were around. You always seemed to put a smile on my face. You really did. I don’t deserve it. I don’t deserve you.”
———
The wedding day, you sigh. “Where is Jungkook?!” the queen exclaims, furious. Since he had locked himself in his room, she had bought his attire for him. But he was nowhere to be seen.
You had talked to him last night, but after he confessed, he had turned quiet and eventually you were just talking to yourself.
Your mind did not focus on her though. It was somewhere else. “Love like the one between you and Jungkook can’t be faked, dear. You’ll be very happy with him,” your mother had said as you were being ready for the big day. You couldn’t explain the heartburn you felt when you heard her words.
Now everything was in chaos. No one knew where Jungkook was. You suggested checking his room, but it was locked. A locksmith was called immediately and after he had worked his magic, the door opened.
You were scared. But even more so, worried. Jungkook wasn’t in his room. Opening the bathroom door, Jungkook’s motionless body was found to be in the bathtub.
The rest was a blur. You vaguely remember freaking out, Jungkook’s mother’s screams, and the people who came to pick up the body. You couldn’t stop crying as you reached the hospital and Jungkook was taken straight to the ICU.
Your mother came to sit down beside you. “I’m so sorry, Y/N,” she hugs you, while you sob into her shoulder. You were still in your wedding clothes. “He wasn’t even supposed to be my husband, mother.”
“What?”
“It was a lie…” you admit. “He wanted to marry a commoner. She asked him for time, so he asked me to play along so he could get some more time for his real soon-to-be wife. But she cheated on him. Only wanted the money and status. I wasn’t his wife, mother.” You look at her, her unwavering eyes making you break down even more. “I wasn’t dating Jungkook, mother.”
———
Since then, you’d visit Jungkook every day. He was diagnosed to be in a coma because of the lack of oxygen his brain had received after he tried to suicide by drowning himself.
Your mother had told his parents the truth, and thankfully, even if they were angry for some time, they let you see him again. You’d always bring Cooky with you. It was the one thing he had left you — along with countless beautiful memories.
The first year was heartbreaking. You’d come to visit him and cry every time. You’d tell him how much you love him and that you miss him and his jokes. That everyone misses him. Hyun-ae had come to visit too, and the visit had been short and silent. She told you that she was deeply sorry for what she had done. You fucking hoped she did.
The second year was when most people had forgotten he even existed. The hype had died down, but you still visited him. You told him about how you had spent your day, and that you had met someone promising. You always made sure to kiss him goodbye. You didn’t cry as much now. Sometimes you did, but most of the time, you made jokes. You told him about how people were making fun of you for fake-dating someone as amazing as Jungkook. It hurt, but you felt like Jungkook’s mere presence was enough to make you feel calm.
The third year came and went just as quickly. You told Jungkook about how you had started dating someone for real now. The promising person was by the name of Namjoon. He was another prince you had come across, from a nearby kingdom. Smart, humble, and sweet too. You told Jungkook of your adventures with Namjoon.
The first year that you didn’t have even one day to spare was the fifth one. You and Namjoon had decided to get married. And the preparations had you very busy. You felt bad for that, but you had no other choice.
———
Six years had passed. Going down the aisle, being wed to Namjoon reminded you of your precious friend. He was still in deep sleep, unaware that his loved one was going to get married. Even if he didn’t know Namjoon, he would’ve been the best man at the wedding.
Or wouldn’t it be better if he was the groom himself? You were not going to make the mistake of treating Namjoon as a rebound. It was wrong and he deserved more than that. You had seen how wrong that could go. But there was just something Jungkook had always made you feel that Namjoon just… couldn’t.
He was intelligent, his dimpled smile was adorable. But Jungkook made you feel elevated. He made you feel so incredibly special. And you knew fully well that you couldn’t ever really move on.
You knew that there may have been someone like him out there, but no one was Jungkook. Namjoon was everything Jungkook lacked — he was a planner, he cared for the consequences, and he didn’t take risks. But you just did not feel the way you felt with Jungkook. You wished you could’ve walked down the aisle to Jungkook, but that was wrong to think. So you shook your head and smiled even if your heart was unwilling.
There was no one like Jungkook. He was one of a kind and no one could compete with him. That was a simple truth. You just hoped your dear friend would wake up. There was so much to catch up on. There were so many things you wanted to say to him.
In the place that he would’ve sat today, sat another faithful, dear friend of yours — Cooky. A symbol of your lost love.
#bangtanhq#jungkook#jungkook x reader#jungkook x you#fic:sly#jungkook fluff#jungkook angst#bts x reader#jimin#taehyung#yoongi#hoseok#jin#namjoon#jungkook scenario#jeon jungkook#fake dating au
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Is This Your Card? Part 12: Just Missed Him
((This house and the way people just seem to disappear and reappear at random bothers the District Attorney, but not as much as how badly this situation is affecting Damien.
Link to previous part, Part 11: About Dave, and to the masterlist.))
“Geronimo!”
He must have left your sight for only a second, but at his shout you had a brief glimpse of the man dressed in a frankly ridiculous red and white striped bathing costume and a straw hat that he could not have possibly had enough time to change into before he jumped into the pool.
You didn’t even know where to start figuring that one out before you heard a voice behind you.
“Y/N? Have you seen the Colonel?”
Damien stepped from around the corner of the building with his question, his eyes briefly meeting yours before he peered around, clearly distracted.
“He…” You glanced over your shoulder at the pool, but the only sign that he had ever been there was the straw hat floating on the surface with not even a shadow under the water to hint at its owner. “He was just here…”
“I thought I heard him,” Damien said, unable to hide his disappointment or his distraction as he ran a hand through his hair and continued to gaze around as though sure the Colonel might pop up at any moment.
Which, considering what you had seen so far, wasn’t hard to imagine...
“I need to speak with him,” Damien said, hands anxiously shifting their grip on his cane as he spoke. “I may have been a little short at our last encounter and…”
He sighed. “Well, if you do see him, let me know.”
Without waiting for an answer, Damien turned and walked away.
“Bully!”
The Colonel surfaced from the pool, drenched and arms stretched out as he shouted the word as though proud of himself for managing to hold his breath for so long.
You looked back to where Damien had just been a second ago, sure that he must have heard that, but there was no sign of the mayor.
“Damien? What—where did he—where did you go?” you asked, spinning back toward the pool only to find it empty once again.
“Life needs a bit of madness, eh chap?”
The Colonel stood beside you, back in his pristine and not even a bit damp military uniform without a wet hair on him.
“How do you keep doing that?” you asked, trying to keep up with the Colonel as he was already walking away again.
“Doing what?” the Colonel asked as he passed a fountain on his way toward the stone steps that led to the grounds below.
“The—the…” You trailed off, unsure how to put it into words without sounding crazy.
The Colonel winked at you knowingly and said, “Now, back to the grisly business inside. I’m sure I’m not the first to say that our host had a great deal of enemies as of late.”
“Mark wasn’t the easiest person to get along with, that’s true,” you admitted. He had left more than his fair share of rivals and critics in his wake with his sometimes-single-minded determination to become an actor. “But enemies?”
“Someone thought ill enough of him to send him a death card with his name on it,” the Colonel pointed out. “No offense to yourself, of course.”
You didn’t have an answer ready for that. Of course, you hadn’t made very many friends on your way to becoming district attorney, either.
“My prying eye might suspect that the people who worked for him might have had reason to stab him in the back,” the Colonel said, with a gesture to illustrate his point. His eyes drifted away from your face as he added softly, “God knows he’s a tough son of a bitch to work for.”
You stared at the Colonel’s back as he looked over the grounds. “Wait, did you—”
“Oh, the old golf course!” The Colonel turned toward you with a smile. “I’ll fetch my clubs!”
“Wait!”
But he was already charging down the stone steps, one hand to his pith helmet to keep it in place as he ran out onto the green.
“Colonel?” The hopeful tone in Damien’s voice gave way to a muttered swear when he saw that you were once again alone. “I thought I heard him.”
“He was just here,” you protested, turning toward the winding golf course down below and failing to see any sign of the uniformed figure. “How does he keep doing that?! And earlier, you just round a corner and disappear? I don’t—”
“Y/N?”
You could hear the concern in Damien’s voice as you pinched the bridge of your nose and sighed. “This place doesn’t make any sense!”
“My friend, what happened to your nose?”
You opened your eyes to see Damien, closer now as he looked at your face with concern.
“Just a nosebleed,” you answered quickly, already pulling the still damp rag the Colonel had given you earlier from where you had halfway stuck it into your pocket. Leaving a wet spot on the side of your heavily wrinkled from having slept in them pants, as if you didn’t already look and feel like a wreck. “I must have missed a spot…”
“Let me,” Damien said, already pulling the spotted rag from your hand before you could argue. You leaned back against the stone railing while he gently wiped at your face, the rag pausing near the corner of your mouth as his concerned eyes met your own. “Are you okay? Is this why you weren’t at the table earlier?”
“No, Abe and I were looking around and must have missed that breakfast was ready,” you said, and caught the annoyance that flickered though your friend’s eyes as he lowered the rag. “The Colonel brought me some food though.”
You held up the hastily wrapped biscuits as proof, which you had barely touched while being distracted by the Colonel’s story.
“Yes, I spoke with the hunter,” Damien said, his tone surprising you.
“Did something happen?” you asked.
“No, we just had a little…talk,” Damien answered, looking away. “Y/N, when is the last time you ate?”
“Right now,” you said, pulling a piece off of one of the biscuits and popping it into your mouth. “But only if you tell me what’s going on with you and Abe.”
“There is nothing—” Damien stopped short at your expression and started again. “I know that you have been assisting our…intrepid ‘detective’ with his investigation, but I have to bring some concerns of mine to the forefront.”
You finished off a biscuit, using it as an excuse to consider where this might be going before you said, “Of course, Damien. What’s wrong?”
“If we look at the situation logically, we can only assume that the killer who struck down our dear friend Mark was with us last night. There has been no sign that anyone forced their way into the house, and you surely would have picked up the smell of someone else within those walls.”
You nodded. You had been over every floor with Abe in that little trek earlier, and there was no scent in there of anyone other than Mark, the two servants, and the three other guests besides yourself. Even if the butler had cleaned the whole place in the early hours of the morning, you should have been able to pick up the scent of someone before that cologne in Mark’s room took a wrecking ball to your sinuses.
“And we even know that the murder weapon must have included one of two guns, possessed either by the Colonel or the hunter,” Damien pressed on. “And while I would stake my life on the innocence of the Colonel or yourself, can we really say the same of the hunter?”
“Anyone could have used one of those guns last night,” you pointed out.
“But it would have been significantly easier for the person who brought not only the gun, but the silver bullet that pierced Mark’s heart,” Damien said. “Y/N, the man may hunt monsters, but not all of those monsters appear so different from ourselves, as you well know. Who’s to say that he did not see a monster in Mark where there was none, and took it upon himself to slay an imaginary beast?”
“Damien, please, we can’t just assume—”
“Who else could have known?” Damien interrupted. “Who else could have sent those cards, who could have known to send you that card?”
“He didn’t even know I would be here tonight!”
“So he claims. But how hard would it have been to find out beforehand?”
Abe had been here just a few nights ago, looking into Mark’s employees. The thought had crossed your mind that Mark may have asked the hunter to look into more than just his chef and butler, and now Damien must have seen the uncertainty in your expression.
“Y/N, can you honestly tell me he wouldn’t have it in him to kill someone?”
“He didn’t shoot me,” you said, softly. “He had the chance, he didn’t even know who I was, but he let the wolf go.”
“But now he does know and I just—” Damien’s hand was tight around his cane as he gestured, seeking the words that eluded him until he finally said, “I just don’t want to lose another friend.”
“Damien?” You straightened up, setting aside your napkin on the railing when you saw the mistiness in his eyes. “No, you’re not…Come here.”
You pulled him into a hug, felt his fingers grip tight to the back of your shirt as he pulled you close to his shaking chest.
“I just keep thinking about those cards, someone sent those, they sent both of you a death card and then Mark is just—he’s just dead, and it could have been you too, it could still be—”
“Shhh.” You shushed him gently, hand rubbing his back as you let him cry into your shoulder. “I’m not going anywhere, Damien, not until we find out what’s going on here. I promise.”
You don’t know how long the two of you stood there like that before Damien’s hands found their way to your shoulders, pulling you back so that he could look you in the eye as he added, “And I promise, I’m not leaving here without you. I will not stand by and let another one of my friends come to harm. If, somewhere in the shadow of this manor, there is a murderer, then—”
Damien’s declaration was cut short by a blast of thunder that accompanied a far more disturbing sound from within the house: a gunshot and the crash of something breaking, followed by muffled voices raised in argument.
Damien glanced at you and took off running toward the house, but his shout for you to stay behind fell on deaf ears as you followed on his heels, determined to see what had happened.
You had to know, to find some kind of answer to what was going on here. For Damien’s sake, for Abe’s, and for your own.
((End of Part 12. Wasn’t sure if I would be able to post this one today due to...a lot happening recently. Sorry if I missed any issues, today is not a good day for the wording or editing to happen well.
Here’s a link to Part 13: A Debt to Pay.
Tagging: @silver-owl413 @skyewardlight @withjust-a-bite @blackaquokat @catgirlwarrior @neverisadork @luna1350 @oh-so-creepy @weirdfoxalley @95fangirl @lilalovesinternet-l @thepoolofthedead @a-bit-dapper @randomartdudette @geekymushroom @cactipresident @hotcocoachia @purple-anxiety-blog @shyinspiredartist @avispate @missksketch))
#markiplier#fanfiction#wkm au#werewolf au#monster hunter au#wkm district attorney#wkm colonel#wkm mayor#second hug#two promises#one soon to be broken
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On Mother’s Lap - Adrien Misses his Mom
Adrien talks to his (Maybe-Dead) Mother
I swear I’m okay, just freaking out about the last episodessssss. Enjoy this piece inspired by this angst-thread.
Don’t forget to reblog my and other writers’ and artists’ works. Gonna spread that good stuff as this fandom reaches a crisis.
People will never remember the day they were first held in their parent’s arms, but they will feel and recognize their mother’s embrace or the throbbing of her heartbeat drumming against their ear when she comforts them. Learning to cherish the warmth of her meals or the cool drives to school in the early, winter mornings. Appreciating the home-diagnosis of illnesses as a fresh hand presses against one’s forehead. Or the shouting that beckons one downstairs to help with groceries or memorizing the script their parents repeat when they get a scolding for rolling their eyes.
All the little niches of home-life and the precious recollections are embedded between the pages in fragile photo albums. Moments in reality that the boy with everything will never have again.
His family isn't together.
His mother is gone.
Period.
In the beginning, Adrien Agreste still needs to step back and process how great his loss is. How this will change the rest of his years and the house he confidently called home once.
Settling for the sun-baked stone left out in the garden of roses for a mom. Nuzzling his face in the crook of his arms before setting his head on her solid lap. His sleeves pulled over his fists. Nervously picking at the seams and yarn. Distressing it as much as his heartstrings were.
“Mother,” He said before his voice quivered ever so slightly.
“Do you think I should forgive him?”
In the western shows that plagued late-night television or movie screens, they often aired high school stories or coming-of-age tales. Living the most normal or diverse lives as they did their homework the night before it was due. Sitting around with friends or plugging themselves to their phone until something interesting happened (which was usually around ten minutes into the flim).
Nevertheless, they all have something to go home to. From the neat trailer parks to the dusty suburbs. From the close-knit ghettos or cluttered apartments. There was always something to come back too. A family waiting to come together. A stove with something cooking or a fridge waiting to be plundered.
Adrien watched millions of titles in his childhood, eating them up as if they were goodies after Halloween night. Watching them long enough to identify the actors and their love interests, memorizing the plots of some, certain scenes from another or a single line that could define the movie altogether. Sometimes his flat screen tv played the movies on repeat on certain nights or didn’t stop playing till the sun peaked over the horizon the next morning.
Buying more with his allowance and replaying them since they were the only snippet of 'real' life he had in his possession. Exposing him to different lives and points of view as the characters went out to find themselves. All as Adrien found himself in the same spot every Friday night.
Each movie presented a new experience that Adrien would engulf himself in. He was a spy helping lost aliens, a nerd looking for a date to the dance, a lawyer that finally had the advantage after years of being the underdog, a writer trying to make it big or even a free man exploring the everlasting sunset of the open ocean. He became so involved with their lives and stories that those characters became a part of him, reinforcing certain wishes and hopes in him. Making him realize what he really wanted.
Not another bike or pinball machine or world-wide trip or a silver watch to wear to those elaborate dinner parties he constantly felt anxious and sweaty in or another fountain pen that had his name engraved. No, not that. What he really wanted were simple and cheap joys of life.
However, if they were really that simple in the end, he wouldn’t have to go to bed starving for them.
Sniffing up his tears when he grew more frustrated with each reject or light ‘maybe’. Burying his face in his pillow before he could calm down. Each year was more difficult than the last since asking for permission felt like presenting a case to an inflexible court. Determining to say guilty without hearing his suit.
In the beginning, refusal was reasoned out with duties and values.
“Adrian, I- Your father is a busy man. He can’t always be with us for dinner.”
“Adrien, son. You have to focus on your studies. I heard from your tutor that your Chinese isn’t as fluid as it once was. How can I let you out there if you’re not taking care of your responsibilities here?”
“Oh, Adrien. I would prefer if you watch the movie here, really. Movie theaters aren’t the cleanest and it’s flu season. The family has connections with the director so we work something out-”
“Adrien, please. Your mother sick and needs to rest. Go to your room before you wake her up.”
“Adrien, your father is not in the best . . . -mindset. He needs time alone.”
“Adrien. Get ready before the car picks you up for your fencing class.”
Those dismissals just seem plain offensive as time passed. Hushed without another word, being told to finish his meal before it got cold.
It wasn’t until the disappearance of a beloved blonde that triggered an awful period in the Agreste Mansion. As reporters were flooding Nathalie’s line, his father (if we should even call him that) locked himself in his office under lock and key. Never speaking to his son, unless the business needed him too.
Eating dinner wasn't as enjoyable as it was before. The dull atmosphere made Adrien lose his appetite more times than the chief could count.
Adrien went out to fencing class more often. The only time he was really out of the dark house was spent being sweaty and tired, but it all better than sitting in his room waiting for a miracle to happen.
Fencing as gracefully as it can be- was driven by action. Letting the young teen relieve that anger pinching his shoulders. Making his back too stiff to get a good-night sleep.
Chinese and piano lessons were time-consuming and grew to be a bit irritating when he didn't get the keys or pronunciation right. While the newly added photoshoots felt 'artificial' and strange. Making him feel more disconnected than he already was.
The only thing that seemed to bring him back from that limbo state was his old DVDs in his cabinets and drawers. Rediscovering them after shuffling around his room for a distraction. By 7 pm, he had organized his shelves and surrounded himself with a circle of movie classics and old favorites that hopefully aged as well as the wine in the house’s cellar.
Slowly, he went down his old system of watching and repeating, watching and ejecting one to put in another DVD. In a way, it helped him mourn. The comedy let him smile for a moment, the plot made him forget everything, and the emotional bits made it easier for him to cry. Comfort him when Nathalie’s schedules and his father’s silent couldn’t.
However, they hurt more at times then relief.
It made it more apparent that he was missing something in his life.
Starving for any air outside of the huge mansion that was shut with security systems, gates, and bodyguards. Not helping the aching in his heart for a friend his age or a day out in the mall or REAL teachers to teach and correct him on his classwork or socks with funky designs that his father wouldn't approve of or a group of friends to sit and talk to while eating the not-so-pleasant cafeteria food in a public school or and the thing he knew he may never get, a nagging mother.
Not one to tell him to clean his room, no one to give him a heart-to-heart talk he's heartbroken, no one to tell him to look at this and that when they're out shopping and no one to push away when they beg to pick at his acne when he’s grown used to it.
Even as the idea mellowed in his head, it still managed to give him a heart attack.
Adrien squeezed his arms tighter. Feeling his eyes get squshed against his forearms, knowing that it would add to the redness on his face.
Instead of his mother’s butter-like tone, he was left with a stone statue that spoke more than the snake surrounded by silks and threads inside.
Adrien came to the terms and conditions of his position. He was the son of the rich, famous, and had everything he required. Yet, this life wasn’t what he wanted. Adrien had to get out of here before he became crazy. All as his father, on the other hand, thought otherwise. Rejecting his son's pled to go to public school all in the harsh way possible.
By grounding him.
“I just don’t agree with this. And I already know what you’re going to say.” Giving a chuckle that sounded more like the rough wheeze or his deflating lungs gripping for air. As if they would preparing to get drowned out by another set of sobs. Lifting his head up while his eyes squinted at the sun. Adjusting to the brightness as his eyelashes fluttered.
“-'Your father shows his love in a distinctive and subtle way.' But mother, this isn’t about love.” Biting his lip as if that sentence made his mouth bitter. Not sure if he wanted to hide his pain or spill it out in the open much like how the morning sun shined over the garden of roses.
“It’s not concern or affection or a sense of protection." Adrien sniffed.
"It’s plain right dissociation.”
“ And . . . That’s not a family.” He hushed, afraid of the conclusion he came to. Delivering it as a whisper, not wanting to break his mother on the reality that played out without her near.
Adrien held himself tightly, rubbing circles on his shoulders. Closing his eyes as he prayed for a sign to tell him what she felt. Something to show him that she's there. Holding him even if he's the only one there. Whispering in his ear that it's okay, everything will be fine. Time will pass. Things will heal.
Swiftly, the cool breeze around him warmed up. A sunray managed to weave its way around the rosebushes to hit his shiny hair. Lifting the boy's head to glance at his mother's smile down on him. The sunlight caught his mom’s eyes, glimmering the bits of crystal in them. Reminding him of the real thing.
“Thanks, Mom.” Adrien beamed. Biting his lip before he let out another sob. “I knew I could count on you.”
Dropping his head down back to his mother’s lap.
#ml#miraculous ladybug fanfiction#miraculous ladybug#miraculous the tales of ladybug and chat noir#adrien agreste#emilie agreste#fic#my fic#My writing#my writings#light ice angst#inspired by that one post
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Turning
(My contribuition to Barricade Day, the day after)
Did you see them going off to fight?
A mob of people had created around the cart in its way from the destroyed Inn to the morgue. Curious, bored, worried, loud, crying, shouting people. All of them trying to get a look inside the small cart where the bodies of the revolutionaries had been amassed.
“Traitors,” one young woman commented even though she was walking on her toes trying to get a pick over the sides of the cart.
“Don’t speak ill of the dead, Emma,” her friend reprimanded.
“I’m just stating the truth,” Emma replied shrugging.
“Have you heard that one of the soldiers that shot them said there was an angel among them. He had a halo and a flaming sword,” another girl whispered to them excited.
“Don’t be ridiculous, if there had been an angel amongst them, they wouldn’t be on that cart right now,” Emma said annoyed.
“Well, Christ was the son of Our Lord, wasn’t he? And he still decided to die for our sins,” Emma’s first friend reasoned.
“Are you really comparing Our Lord Christ with one of these traitors?” Emma asked feigning herself more scandalized that she actually was.
“Have you seen poor Sara?” the third friend asked allowing the first one to avoid answering the uncomfortable question posed by Emma.
“What about her?”
“She’s there crying like a fountain, I think this is the first time in my life I don’t see her with a smile on her face” she answered nodding towards the other side where other headset-covered heads were visible. “I’ve heard that she was suspiciously friendly with one of the young men up there.”
“Wasn’t she engaged with that lawyer?” Emma asked. He friend smiled maliciously instead of replying.
“Lawyer would be an exaggeration really. I’ve heard my own Thomas’ friends say that he barely showed up for classes,”
“Oh! You two are horrible. How can you talk like that in such a moment?”
“Shut up, Catherine, if you were really so respectful you would be at home sewing not here mudding your petticoats,” Emma commented harshly.
Children of the barricade who didn't last the night
The lifeless bodies of almost children were exposed on a bare wooden table in the middle of the cold room, limbs overlapping, empty eyes staring at the ceiling, blood darkening their clothes. The captain didn’t miss the irony of those boys dressed for a funeral: they had hoped to start a new world from the death of Lamarque, but they only managed to walk towards their own end. A pity, really. He was sure they were smart kids.
They could have become doctors, lawyers, artists even, had they just learned to accepts the world for what it was: unjust.
He remembered being young, though, that desire to being different and make the difference.
“Captain, what do we do with this one?” the voice of one of the youngest cadets distracted him from his thoughts. Copeu was his family name, he had started active service not even a month ago, he was younger than most of the young men laying on the table.
“Which one?” he asked tiredly.
“The prisoner they shot during the fight? He was executed after the first attack.”
The captain nodded, he remembered that one. The other captain, the one whose battalion had been responsible for the deaths of those same boys that he was in charge of guarding as if they could still be a threat to their precious monarchy, well, he told him he had died professing his loyalty to his traitorous cause.
“Not even a finch when we blindfolded him. I doubt even half of my men would be as brave,” he had told him with admiration. The captain had thought that a quite stupid comment: not half of their man fought for anything else than to be paid at the end of the month.
“What about them?” he inquired turning his attention back to the young soldier.
“Should we treat him in the same way? He was executed after all, should we make him an example or…”
“And how to you propose to do that?”
The young man froze with his mouth open and then closed it suddenly lowering his gaze.
“I didn’t mean to overstep, captain.”
The captain sighed.
“Make him an example, soldier, and you make him a symbol too. He’s dead and soon there will be no one to remember his name or his sacrifice. Isn’t that enough?”
“Of course, captain,” the kid said and turned back to his companions.
Did you see them lying where they died?
The firsts to arrive were always the Parisians, of course. Mothers, sisters, wives, and daughters in some cases, they all come in. Some crying, some angry, some frightened as if the soldiers were there to kill them too for the crime of losing a loved one.
Mistresses were the easiest to spot. They always remained near the entrance, afraid to disrupt the grief of the families, almost as if they didn’t deserve to feel the same heartbreak of the mothers or sisters.
That day one, in particular, caught the keeper’s attention: she was small and smartly dressed, but her eyes were the feature that more peculiar: they were round and amber, the sort of eyes you would expect on a fortune-teller’s face. They were also red and wet with tears.
She was frozen at the entrance, her eyes fixed on the bodies lying on the table. She seemed to find the courage to move almost suddenly, without warning. Still, she walked slowly, uncertain on her legs. Her hands were trembling and were clutching a white handkerchief so hard her knuckles were almost as white as the piece of fabric.
She stopped at the edge of the table, then she bent and laid one gentle kiss on the foreheads of two different boys.
Well, that wasn’t the strangest thing the keeper had ever seen in his life.
She whispered something and slowly more and more tears started flowing down her face.
The young woman tore her handkerchief in two pieces and then folded the two parts neatly into the two boys’ breast pockets, then she dried her eyes with the back of her hand and she gave her two lovers one small smile. She moved towards the door, but her eyes fell upon one of the other body. The short one with the black curls and the crooked features, not that those were visible at the moment being half hidden by one of the other man’s arm.
“May I… Would it be possible for me to turn him, monsieur?” the young woman asked to no one in particular, her voice barely more than a whisper.
“Of course,” answered the keeper and moved to help her turn the body. When the face became completely visible, the small composure she had been able to maintain disappeared in an instant. Two identical rivers of tears started flowing down her face while she shook her head incredulous.
“No, no, no, no, this is not possible. He wouldn’t… He didn’t…” she murmured between sobs.
“He did, mademoiselle. He was one of the leaders, he declared so himself before getting shot with his friend,” he replied, remembering what he had heard from the two young soldiers who had brought them all in.
At those words, she looked at him with surprise and then started laughing, and empty and bitter laugh, probably a result of the shock.
“No, he wasn’t,” she insisted shaking her head and no one had the strength to insist. “You said they died together?” she went on gesturing between the body of the two leaders.
“Yes, mademoiselle. Holding hands or so they told me.” Answered the keeper. He thought he could be a comforting thing to know: that your loved ones didn’t die alone, lost and hopeless.
She nodded. She seemed almost serene after that piece of information and the man was happy to have given that to her, at least.
“Well, R, there are worst ways to die, aren’t there?” she said turning to the lifeless body. “Adieu, mon cher,” She added before passing her hand through his bloodied curls and go away without turning back.
Someone used to cradle them and kiss them when they cried
Sometimes there were very strange clients at funeral homes. Monsieur Brumont, after twenty-five years of honored work in the field, knew that well.
A young woman entered the shop. She was the first one of the day, but she wasn’t going to be the last. She wasn’t crying, but she had a lost expression on her face while she looked around at the caskets exposed.
“Do you need help, mademoiselle?” Brumont asked her after long minutes passed without her doing anything at all.
“Madame,” she whispered.
“What?”
“Madame, I got married a couple of months ago.”
“I didn’t mean to offend, madame. I was just wondering if you needed help.”
She nodded. She looked resigned.
“My husband, he was in the National Guard before marrying me. He used to come at the Cafè Musain every day with his friends, exactly like all of them,” she told him pointing outside the shop’s window which was respectfully covered with a heavy black curtain. “Drunk the same wine, told the same jokes, he was a little less educated, but who notices after a couple of bottles of wine, right? He could have easily been fighting today had I refused to marry him, but I was just the dishwasher, with no better prospects, how could I say no?”
“Are you all right, madam?” the same soldier asked with a worried look.
She startled as if she had forgotten of their presence during her little speech.
“Yes, of course, I’m sorry. I mumble when I’m nervous. Like most people after all,” she replied quickly and blushing profusely. She started searching for something inside the pockets of her coat and doing some kind of math under her breath. Brumont didn’t comment further. Who was him to judge somebody’s way of mourning?
When she seemed satisfied with her counts she turned once again towards him and asked: “I’d like to purchase a, uhm, one of…”
She couldn’t bring herself to say the word casket, that was pretty clear.
“Just tell me which one, madame,” he said gently. The young woman took a sigh of relief and pointed to the simplest one.
“Is it for your husband, madame?” Brumont asked with just the right amount of interest that could be considered respectful. “In this case let me give you my most sincere condolences.”
She shook her head.
“No. My husband is at work right now. It’s for… one of the men who died today. He didn’t have anyone except for those who died at his side. He was a good man. I can’t bear the thought of him in a mass grave.”
Did you see them lying side by side?
The night fell on that day of misery.
A girl was entering the morgue through a window left slightly open for aeration. She walked in the dark with the certainty and the calm of a cat, but in her eyes, there is more of the wilderness of a wolf. After nearing the table where the bodies are exposed, she took something from the pockets of her threadbare coat and a moment later a cheap candle is lightening the motionless faces.
She started moving around the table, searching for something or someone, and she stops in front of the only girl among the corpses, not that anyone realized that. She put one hand inside one of her pockets and fished out a battered yellow rose, she looked at it for a moment thoughtfully before tucking it in one of the buttonholes of her sister’s coat.
“Who’s there?” the voice of the keeper called from the darkness.
But the light had disappeared when he entered in the room and so had the young girl.
Who will wake them? No one ever will
On the ruins of what was once the Corinthe children were playing. It was surely not a safe place where to play and had the kinds, anyone, to care for them they would have been reprimanded and sent to bed without dinner. Things being as they were they weren’t going to be reprimanded but most of them were probably going to sleep without eating.
But they didn’t care for that at the moment. They were playing.
Navet had found a top hat near the rests of the barricade next to the Corinthe and he’s telling the other gamins all about the original owner.
“He was a really fancy one, he was. But he was all right. He would always give me some sous when he saw me and he invited me to breakfast sometimes. He let me buy pastries and all those kinds of stuff.”
“Yeah, me too!” exclaimed another gamin while dangling quite dangerously from a pole stuck in the barricade.
“He also had ninety and three lady friends and he would always buy them chocolates and flowers and treat them like they were all the queens of France,” Navet continued.
“That is not true,” commented another who had found a bottle of wine and was quite decided to open it.
“It is, I tell you! I heard it from the dressers at Theatre Lyrique.”
“Well, I heard that he was making laughing at the faces of the soldiers even while they were fighting and that he was still making jokes when they shot him. He laughed at the angel of death itself when it came collecting him,” a fourth gamin said climbing down the barricade.
That information was much more impressive than the one about the lady friends and Navet felt the need to answer it with something as interesting.
“There was also a boy like us on this barricade fighting.”
“They said he died,” confirmed one of the others trying to sound mournful. He was pretty sure it was the right tone of voice one should use for such occasions.
“He didn’t die,” Navet revealed with a secretive whisper, loud enough to be heard by all the other gamins playing around.
“Yes, he did. I saw his body brought into the morgue this morning with all the others’,” a gamin protested.
“No, you didn’t! He didn’t die because he’s the son of a witch and when they tried to hit him he transformed in one of those black and white birds that steals stuff and fly away.”
“A magpie?”
“That one.”
The theory seemed interesting enough not be contested.
The gamin with the wine bottle got tired of trying to open it and just smashed it against the rests of a wall just to brandish it as a sword while climbing over the barricade.
“I’ll fight too at the next revolution. I’ll have a top hat and I’ll make jokes at the angel of death like that fellow who gave us brioches,” he declared solemnly.
“And I’ll have a sword and a musket and I’ll write down with the king on the walls and when we won I’ll say that we gamins should be in charge,” Navet added wearing the top hat on his head and started sauntering away from the barricade.
After all, they had already played there almost all day and it was starting to become kind of boring. There well way more interesting places in Paris.
“I think there should be more eggs, we should say that once we’re in charge,” one of the gamins said following Navet down the road.
#les miserables#les amis de l'abc#my writing#barricade day#well more after barricade day#Cw characters death#canon charachter death
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Rated: T
Pairing: JarethxSarah
Plot teaser: The Goblin King is dead...at least in Sarah's normal life he is...but what happens if that turns out to just be a rumor?
Source: Archiveofourown.com/F0rce0fnatur3
Notes:
Hello my bebes. So just a little address to those who continue to read this. I have always been a fan of the Labyrinth and I know nothing could touch on or pick up where Henson left off but I've put a lot of thought into how my version of the story should go. I hope I can give fans back some semblance of what we've been waiting for since the story came out. I have read all there is and watched behind the scenes and rare footage on my favorite movie and so characters that are within the novel, concept sketches, and other works will be put in here. There may also be minor oc's as well as one big one. So I say unto you. I hope you enjoy my version because the goblin king may be watching over all of us in the heaven's and no one can take his place...I bring him back to life here on the pages before you.
Chapter 1: Rumors
When I was a child, I thought like a child. But I did not do childish things. In fact, I don’t think anyone could call what I went through childish. But that feels like a time long, long ago. Even now if I think back on it, my mind becomes a fog. And then one day I just---forgot entirely. I do remember the days after vividly. I graduated and parted with my drama club family. I struggled with my major but suddenly all these dreams and thoughts of harrowing tales wouldn’t stop springing to my mind like an unlimited fountain from a spring that burst and never dried up. At first I would scribble the stories down in notebooks when I was supposed to be paying attention to the lecture in front of me. Now at twenty, I’ve found my calling and have become one of the bestselling fantasy novelists of my generation. I’ve heard all the praises. To be so young and have one of the most sought after series. One scholar I met at a gala party in New York City told me fantasy novels were an elder mans game. The older the person the wiser the writing as if the pages were scrolled on ink and parchment paper itself. I gave them their props as they rightfully deserve, but I planned to hold my own. I’d rather contend with the older crowd than the young teen romance category. I had no interest following on the coattails of finding a way to weave a story about a werewolf or vampire. I’m just waiting for the mummy revolution to peak.
Now, I stare at a blank page. My well is congested and I need inspiration but a deadline for my eager fans want a rushed job. No one asks a baker to take the brownies out of the oven because they’re clamoring to eat it before its ready, mindlessly spooning the hot batter into their mouth. I understand the impatience but this is why the good writers have one hit wonders, or a series, and then slowly peter out for indefinite hiatuses. I can’t just expunge something onto blank pages without inspiration to fuel my motivation. So I gaze out my window on the reading nook watching the city life buzz about. I wish I could just reach down and pull their thoughts from them and manage to get something cohesive enough to send to my editor. I wring my hands around my coffee cup too jittery to even take another sip, the perfume from my eight o’ clock brew souring in my stomach. I can hear the battery warning on my laptop but I’m frozen where I sit. I came up with different plots but nothing made sense. I would need to cram at least four hundred pages into the novel and when I got rolling and tried desperately to fill the pages with random ramblings it came out in cliché bits and pieces that made no sense.
Tonight there would be another gala and this was a black and white only listing. I was prepared but that’s who I was. I was ready within seconds. If I was given three hours I would be ready in three minutes. Always itching to go. Why slow life down anymore? Maybe it was just my mindset as a writer, maybe it was the pressure from the public. I was already a book behind and itching to be at this gala, perform my part of dutiful famous author, and then slip away with a spoon of ice-cream in my mouth and my silk gray pajamas on my body. Suddenly a thought rolled over my mind making me feel suddenly ill. When had I become the mirror image of my stepmother? My insides coiled tight like a sailors knot and I couldn’t stand to have this cup in my hands any longer and be alone with my thoughts. I needed to keep busy to numb my mind and run on autopilot.
I glanced at the one newspaper clipping I saved of mom stuck to the corner of my corkboard. Around her ideas were peppered on yellow sticky notes. I was stuck in my fantasy that worshipping an absent parent who left dad and I behind for the stage, for fame and fortune, had abandoned us took precedent over reality. Before my epiphany I lived in a world where she would come back because daughters were invisibly connected to their mother’s right? Like sons and fathers. I had dreams she would ride through our suburban neighborhood on the whitest steed---well in a white limo, and she would come out with a plume of feathers in a pink boa around her neck and her finest ball gown and she would announce she was here to storm the castle and take me away with her where we would live in riches and in the lap of luxury. That’s the word she was, luxury. But that’s all she was. She wasn’t a dream that would ever come true. A mirage. She was just a word. One everyone knew how to speak, and only the rich could afford to. When I finally grew into myself and knew she was just another selfish story I made up in my head, I put my scrapbook and pictures of her away. Even now they’re packed in boxes I doubt I’ll ever open. The article is recent, her career had slowly plateaued when younger famous musicians rose to fame and glory on the stages of Broadway. And in some way, I had to thank her for popping my bubble of dreams because I didn’t want to follow in her footsteps in reality. Or dad. Or my stepmother’s assumption of what I should do with my life. I needed to do what I wanted. What my heart and head wanted.
But now I’m stuck. In a bog of eternal stench. I raised a brow. That was an odd way of phrasing something. What did that even mean? What did I even just think? Before I could grasp it and replay the sentence it was gone. I needed air. And possibly something to eat. Normally I would go for a jog before the night fell but I had an hour left to get ready so I did what anyone would do in my position. I took a much needed nap.
As I scan the crowd I notice little things. Another perk of being a writer. People watching. Noticing details. I watched couples stroll in, one couple shied away barely making it through the door when they realized they had forgotten or weren’t notified by the theme of the party. Even champagne colored attire wouldn’t fly in the mayor’s presence. The women who wore their hair down had coiled them in delicately hanging curls that bounced as they floated across the marble floor. There wasn’t a straight haired woman in sight. I was thankful I chose last second to throw it up in a chignon before I left from the house. I had to admit I still hadn’t mastered the art of being able to glide like most of these women had with heels and dress trains. My mermaid style dress was all in black and the design made it hard to take a good stride. I never cared for alcohol. I never developed the taste for it. The most I would take is a glass of wine, any color, and that was on my worst days. But I felt foolish just holding onto the flute of champagne clutched in my hand. Perhaps I could discretely slip it on a passing tray or abandon it in a less frequented area. I longed for my settee, ice-cream, movie, and pajamas. Depending how the night shaped, maybe I’d skip it all and just go straight to bed. Since I wasn’t stalled in conversation or mindless babbling I stole my chance to discard the flute. As I turned I became arrested by a form. I cursed wishing I had my precious solitude back. A bulky man towered over me. His jet black hair was slicked back and went against the grain of men who wore the signature penguin suites of stark black. He was dressed entirely in pure white. His hazel eyes bore into me seeing me and not just scanning over my bodice as most of the suitors that had pursued me during the eve had been. I spent more time dodging the men in heat that I barely noticed if there were any noble guests not just looking out for the single stragglers for a one night stand.
I shrunk into myself and flushed tearing away from his gaze giving a slight curtsy. As much as the restriction of my dress would allow me to bend my knees. And then I felt even more awkward because I did that. I felt my brows knit and I mentally threw myself out a window before grounding myself. I expected him to start the conversation but perhaps I was being vain. Not everyone knew about me even if I lived in a city packed with my fair share of fans. I was used to having others pounce on me with immediate greetings and questions. To stop my internal suffering I chose to open my mouth and end my misery of turning into an awkward child and reminding myself that I was an adult. Am one. Speak!
“Good evening.” Oh good, I just used the opening line to every gothic and creepy character would use. I really floundered instead of thrived in large gatherings. I wanted to wipe the slate clean, I hadn’t realized half of my champagne had been slugged back. I became aware of the stinging in my ankles and the pain on my feet as I balanced on my heels. He parted his lips revealing pearly whites. I could see his dimples and I found my hand busying itself by brushing a stray strand that had come lose from the chignon behind my ear.
“It is.” His smile was warm and inviting. But I was on high alert none-the-less. I wasn’t sure how to further this conversation. I’d give anything to have my joggers on so I could shift my weight side to side. It was my tell that I was uncomfortable. But I was restricted in these damn stilts.
“Are you here accompanying the mayor in his entourage?” Aside from the orchestra playing at the base of the stairs I could hear the soft chuckle in his throat.
“Unfortunately no. I was a plus one with the Matthew party.” I had no idea who they were but I nodded in agreement as if I did. “What about you, lady?”
“I only got my invitation because of my status. I’m a hot ticket item until my success runs its course and someone else comes along to claim the limelight.” I whisked my flute in the air toasting to my misery and draining the glass abandoning it on the wide railing. I was drowning. I wished for my friend from college to be at my side. She was excellent at steering conversations away from my failings.
“That’s usually how fame works. May I ask, what your profession is now?” ‘Now’? It was an odd way to say something but I disregarded it as a slip of the tongue.
“I’m a novelist.”
“Fancy.” He waggled his brow and now it was my turn to laugh. It came out more like a bark.
“Mind if we speak more but actually participate in this party by dancing?” I felt my face pale. I was meant to be a statue. One that showed up, soaked up the atmosphere, and then left without being drawn into something complicated. Like dancing. That was complicated. Especially in the prison I handpicked for myself. He offered his arm and I gratefully took it stepping as if I was made of china. I literally took baby steps painfully listening to the stairs announce our decent when the butt of my heel ricocheted in the scoop of the room. I could barely get one foot in front of the other, my dress demanding my steps be smaller.
He blessedly closed his stride into small boxy steps allowing me to move with him. He lead, and I floated in the weight of his arms. His palm spanned over my entire back horizontally. I felt like a small hill up against a mountain. The tempo slowed, the musician’s skill amazed me. They could transition from fast pace to slow and sensual within the beat of a note. Before I knew it, we too had slowed, the only glimmer of having been keeping in step to the upbeat rhythm was my fast beating heart and the bead of sweat on the back of my neck. Somewhere between that transition, his body had mingled closer to mine and now his lips were at my ear in a gentle whisper. My eyes widened. I was confused. What did he just say? Was that really what he meant to say? I felt my world splinter. I felt like a dark void inside my heart was going to swallow me whole and I would be rid of all the people and buildings around me.
I somehow made it back to my flat on the top floor. I slipped off my shoes, wormed my way into my pajama’s and when I came back to myself I was curled up in bed holding myself not caring that my chignon was half tamed and half wild. I didn’t even bother to wipe away my lipstick, clean the eyeshadow off with the liner above my lashes. I barely got my arm into the sleeve of my shirt. I hadn’t bothered to turn the lights on or button the shirt closed. My covers lay neglected at my back, my pillow barely touching the top of my head. I was staring into the black hole hiding the corner of my wall. Tears welling in my eyes. Why was I so tore up about this?
I felt the hot coals roll over my cheeks staining my silk sheets. My muscles were stiff, my circulation numb from sitting so still. Why was I feeling all these things that made no sense to me? The thing the man said didn’t even make sense. It sounded like a joke or something he stole out of a novel. What did he mean when he said ‘The Goblin King is dead?’ and why was my heart breaking?
I pulled my phone from the belly of my clutch opening up the web browser searching for anything that could connect me to those words. How was I supposed to react to that? Why was it even affecting me?! My mind was screaming. I found forums with geeks talking about video game references. Millions of results were nothing more than mindless ramblings of geeks and nerds. Broken phrases about movies, books, television, games. There was no viable information present. Frustrated I threw my phone against the wall but heard it hit my vanity instead shattering the mirror. I gasped at my own failings sliding off the bed to clean up my mess. My flat was empty. It was full of things that adorned the walls and filled the spaces so it didn’t look barren but---the truth was it was just me alone living here. I got to work brushing the pieces into the dustpan pausing when I caught a glimpse of my reflection in a giant ragged shard.
Hadn’t those words meant something at one time? A title? I had an odd hazy thought that I was meant to remember something. Something significant. But my work took precedence. What that man said was nothing. If it was a message it fell on deaf ears. Maybe it was just highbrow humor I forgot to gloss in the New Yorker. But that was a business magazine and no imagination or right brained people were allowed to even grace those pages. I got the vaguest of feelings that I had been on the other side of this mirror once. A fleeting thought. I disposed of it climbing back into bed regretting the ruin of my mirror and phone. I was a person meant to be on call any time of day especially for my editor. I would rush first thing in the morning to the store to get a new phone and hastily set up my mailbox.
I stretched arching my back like a cat reveling in the warmth my flat offered through the central air system and gazed out to the skyline barely looking back at my with a slit eye of pinks and purples. No signs of orange yet. Coffee time. The heavens answered my thoughts. I heard the timer chime awake and the maker got to work gurgling the water I poured the night before come alive. All I would need to do is feed it creamer and retrieve my mug. I tapped a key on my laptop forgetting momentarily that the battery warned me the night before I needed to charge its juice. It wouldn’t matter. There would still be a blank page and a blinking cursor angrily ticking to remind me my own time was slipping away to start a draft. I couldn’t get what the stranger whispered to me out of my head. I paced feeling the ache in my feet from my heels from the night before. I had darted from the party wanting to stretch that space between me and my dance partner. Away from his words. Away from the mocking eyes that gave me a headache and dejavu.
It would’ve been easier to hail a cab but I felt like the world was crumbling down on me. I was choking and I needed to breach the surface and gulp lungful’s of air. And then I practically fell into the lobby before the doorman or desk clerk could barrage me with questions. I knew I was disheveled. I didn’t need to be prodded or gawked at. I clambered into the elevator fishing the key to activate my penthouse suite on the top floor. I wanted to get home. I needed my bed before I passed out here. Fifty stories up and I stumbled into my room listening to the whirling gears of the elevator haul itself back to earth while I stayed floating in space.
I escaped the footmen who were busy busing in luggage and packages of other residents. My main focus needed to be a new phone. With my laptop dead I needed access to the internet now more than ever. I knew my editor would be trying to get ahold of me. I tried to keep my thoughts singular but after I began setting up everything on the little device I found my curiosity drawing me back to the same spot I fled from. Who was the man that approached me and I danced with? Why did he single me out? Did he know me? Was he using code that I should know? Was it a password to get into somewhere?
All my thoughts were spinning in a jumbled mess worse than a tornado at level five and I wanted answers but only gained more questions.
#labyrinthfic#labyrinthfanfiction#labyrinth au#labyrinth 1986#jarethxsarah#ao3#archiveofourown#archive of our own#myart#myworks
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Fate’s Design, Chapter 2
Chapter 1| Chapter 2| Chapter 3
Summary: A long time ago, a single drop of sunlight fell from the sky. For several centuries the magic of the sun went undiscovered, until the kingdom of Corona needed a miracle to save their most precious treasure.
When the only son of the King and his Consort is stolen from them, it seems like the magic of the sun is lost to the world once again, until that very same magic brings together two completely different people, changing the course of destiny forever.
AO3: This chapter | From the beggining
Pairing(s): Logicality (background) / Prinxiety
Warnings: (General warnings) child abduction, manipulative Deceit, villian Deceit, mentions of homophobia and light angst. Each chapter will have individual warnings if necessary.
Chapter warning: Mentions of child death, angst. Please let me know if there’s anything else that need to be tagged.
Hey, @imtherealjose, this is dedicated to you, ily.
(Almost) Eighteen years earlier
People, Patton noticed, seemed to think that tragedy was best when lived in advance, if the depressing black banners hung up around the town square were an indication. Everywhere he looked there was a sign of mourning, even if the death to be cried had not yet come to pass. Children fell into a hush as he walked by, surely attending to stern instructions given by their parents, and none of the street musicians that he had longed to hear had made an appearance in their usual busking spots. Despite the warm weather, the sidewalks were mostly empty, with the few passersby he encountered looking tired and sorrowful.
He knew it was partly due to his presence in the town; he’d had reports of the usual activities taking place as normal during the previous days, even if the general mood has been described to him as “mournful” by his adviser. It was so strikingly different from his last visit, when he’d walked among a much busier marketplace, and people had a smile on their faces upon seeing him. Now, it was as if the eyes of every citizen were his very own; the eyes he avoided in the mirror every morning, as if to shield himself from the ugly and unfair truth.
Somewhere in the castle workshops, someone worked on a little wooden box that would take Patton’s heart with it, should it be needed. Every physician had given the same diagnose, the same dark look as they checked the eyes of the child.The baby had been sick for a fortnight already; and no one had been able to stop the burning fever that caused his wretched cries. Even adults didn’t always survive such a strong sickness; not even his husband had much hope left, and neither did any of the members of the court. The rumors followed him anywhere he went in the citadel, all the people who wondered if they would try to have a child again, if perhaps King Logan would be wiser and take a wife, if this wasn’t a sure sign that traditions were sacred and should have been respected from the beginning.
Patton had to stop as a sudden burst of fury made him almost dizzy. He must have walked out of the main road a while ago; even though he recognized the little park he was currently standing in, he couldn’t quite place it in his mind. The shadows were closer to the ground and the air was somewhat colder. Sunset was rapidly approaching.
He sat down on a bench, facing a small but well tendered fountain. His eyes stung as he forced himself to hold back tears, the same he’d been doing for two weeks already. Logan had cried every night, silently, but Patton had refused to even shed a tear. How could he help anyone if he let himself be overwhelmed by emotions? His son needed him more than ever, he couldn’t be a mess, crying and wailing and being useless. Logan needed him to rule the kingdom, there were important matters to attend. The world hadn’t stopped moving just because they were suffering. There were orphans to be fed and homeless families to house. Even if Patton was unable to save his own child, there were hundreds of others he could still help.
A broken laugh left his lips, a sound so full of bitterness that in a different time Patton would have been shocked. Save others? Right. No one even trusted him with his own child, how could the court be convinced that he was the best option for anything? He’d never felt more exhausted in his entire life; every day he was constantly reminded that he wasn’t enough. His family was falling apart, and people were blaming him. Of course they were; he wasn’t even the parent of the baby. No, people were far more concerned about Logan losing his only heir, and how he couldn’t have another because he’d married a man, people were wondering what the real mother thought of her baby dying because she’d been forced to give him up. People loved to talk, to whisper behind his back, and Patton pretended he couldn’t hear them. He’d been pretending for a long time, since the moment he and Logan had announced their relationship. He’d thought that he could handle anything. It turned out that watching his baby boy slowly die was far worse than anything.
“Are you okay?”
A little voice interrupted his spiraling thoughts. There was a child looking at him across the fountain, his big wide eyes full of concern and barely hidden curiosity. For a moment Patton wondered what had prompted the boy’s question, until he realized that there were tears running down his face.
“I..” he started, uncertain of what to say. The boy looked young, barely past toddler age, and Patton was about to ask him about his parents when a young woman approached them. She was wearing an apron over her dress, and there were traces of soap on her arms. She looked tired and worried; the little boy must have escaped towards the park, with her following him. Her dark hair was pulled back, and for a second Patton was reminded of Saphira. Another painful memory. They hadn’t been able to save her, either, and now the child she’d helped bring to the world was suffering from the same illness that had consumed her. .
“Your Highness? I’m sorry if my son interrupted you”
Patton shook his head, unable to speak because of the heaviness in his throat. The woman grabbed the little boy’s hand, but the child was still staring at him.
“Mom, why is he crying?”, he asked. The woman swallowed, looking lost. Patton realized that she didn’t know what to tell to her child. How do you explain a tragedy to a young person? Patton gave the boy a weak smile, before nodding lightly at the woman.
“Someone I love very much is very sick, and I’m sad because of that” he said after a moment. The boy opened his mouth, but offered no reply. He seemed stunned, as if it was the first time he heard something like that. The mom tightened her grip on her son’s hand.
“And who is sick?” he finally asked. The woman sighed.
“Virgil, love, those questions are too personal”. She didn’t sound angry, almost as if she was used to dealing with an inappropriately curious child and was merely reminding him of an old lesson.
“No, it’s okay” said Patton. The boy looked guilty for a moment and Patton didn’t like the way his little face fell. “Virgil, right?”
“Yes! My name is Virgil and I’m three years old” he declared proudly. Patton chuckled, despite the pain in his heart. Would his son ever make it to three?
“Well, Virgil, I have a baby, and my baby is very sick” he said, reaching up to push his glasses on his nose. Virgil now looked a little sad, too. “He is very little, and we’re all worried about him.”
“Oh” said the child. Patton tried to give him a smile, but he couldn’t. He was too tired, and the woman must have seen it, because she pulled the boy aside.
“Go home, love. Soon it will be dinner time, your mom will be looking for you”, she whispered, loud enough for Pattom to hear above the rumor of the fountain. Little Virgil nodded and started running towards the other side of the park, but before the woman or Patton had time to react, he turned around and ran until he was right in front of Patton.
“The magic golden flower can save your baby!” he half screamed, looking back and forth between his mother and Patton.
“Virgil, go, now”. The woman ordered, looking severe for the first time. Virgil ran away, this time non stop until he disappeared down the street.
“What is the magic golden flower?” Patton asked. The woman turned to him and sighed.
“It’s a legend, your Highness”, she answered quietly. “My wife, who’s from the other side of the kingdom, told our son the story of a flower that came from a single drop of sunlight, ages ago. It’s said to be able to heal anything, even the passage of time.”
Patton felt numb. Something that could possibly save his child, even if it was a legend, was too much. The woman was staring at him with sadness in her eyes, but he didn’t care.
“Tell me the whole story, please” he begged. She gave him a worried smile before sitting next to him.
“It’s only a legend. Are you sure you want to hear it?”
“Please. Anything helps, I promise” he was desperate, and he knew it, and he knew she knew it. However, she just sighed once more and looked at him,
“It all starts with the sun”
Taglist:
@depressed-lgbt-cat
@ukuleleanomaly
@heartfelt-piece-of-trash
@dead4sevenyears
@im-a-giraffe666
@journalanxiety
@mycatshuman
Let me know if you want to be added!
#sanders sides#sanders sides fanfic#prinxiety#logicality#ts deceit#roman sanders#virgil sanders#logan sanders#patton sanders#my writing#sanders sides tangled au#thomas sanders
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Helicobacter 6
Here are some more words, most of which are completely frivolous. I’m not telling you anything you don’t already know, but just for the purposes of the ongoing “this is why”: I really do think it’s worth my time to continue to create narratives featuring characters who would, in an ideal world, be embodied by actors who convincingly embodied similarly named characters on a TV show some time ago. I don’t think we’re done yet. We’ll see how all the variables shake out, but I don’t think we’re done yet. Obviously also not done with this story, which comprises part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, and part 5 in addition to this new part.
Helicobacter 6
“Why are you here?” Helena managed to speak.
“I wanted to say thank you,” Myka said. She didn’t move.
“You’re welcome,” Helena said back, willing herself not to move either. Thus there they both stood, not moving. After a time, Helena ventured, “But why are you here now? What did you tell your mother?”
“I didn’t tell her anything.”
This struck Helena as absurd. “Did you sneak out?”
“Of course not. Who sneaks out of their own apartment? I just... left quietly. I wrote her a note.”
“What did the note say?”
A pause, a look. Myka was very still. “What do you want it to have said?”
Helena looked down, at Myka’s mouth, and thought of how her store of worldly knowledge now included the feeling of kissing that mouth. How her store of worldly knowledge could only be enhanced by having more examples upon which to render any judgments regarding that feeling. She looked up, into Myka’s green, green eyes. Don’t do it, an angel warned. Go on, whispered its corresponding devil. Trying to dismiss that devil, she said aloud, “My impulses tend to steer me into trouble.”
Myka smiled gentle, sweet. Then she chuckled. “That would be a really weird thing for me to write to my mother.”
“And I don’t want to drag you there with me,” Helena went on, determined.
“Getting weirder by the sentence.”
Helena concluded, “So it should have said ‘Be right back.’”
Myka didn’t confirm or deny; she resumed staring.
“Why are you here?” Helena tried again.
Myka breathed, a deep, closed-mouth inhale-exhale, as if she were preparing to lift a particularly heavy weight. At last she said, “I was curious.” And Helena thought, Oh, of course, now here it comes—but Myka laughed. “Not about that. Not like you’re thinking.”
“How do you know what I’m thinking?”
“You are so transparent.”
“I am not!”
“To me you are.”
How was it that they so often and effortlessly fell into speaking like this, as if they truly were what they were pretending to be? “If I’m so transparent, then what could you possibly be curious about.” To her own ears, she sounded petulant.
Now another conscious inhale, a studied exhale. “If you’ll kiss me like that when my mother’s watching... what will you do when she isn’t?”
All petulance fled.
Helena’s immediate thought: Fast the first time—as if we really were drunk in that shadow. I would put my hands on you, and that would be that.
Helena’s spoken response: “Nothing.” But she said it with a dry mouth, for she had in that same immediacy remembered Myka’s I bet you’re fast.
“Should I believe you?” Not a demand, but an offering of a soft opportunity... for Helena to tell the truth.
But Helena had no choice but to give up that practice where Myka was concerned. No choice, and she knew it. Instead, she said, “I thought I was transparent. Can’t you tell?” When all she wanted was to remind Myka, “Of course you can tell. You already have.”
Another wordless stare.
Here they stood, in, or partially in, yet another tasteful foyer. No one’s mother was present, but even so. Helena said, in order to say something, “I am working hard at being good. I am good at working hard but horrible at being good. “
“That’s a conundrum.” Said slowly. As if she were asking Helena to kiss that word from her mouth, taste it, swallow it.
Helena did swallow—a difficult push. “The ethics of the situation. The appearances. The possible consequences. Here we are.”
“Here we are. What if I said I don’t care about the ethics of the situation, or the appearances? The possible consequences...”
“As I believe I said to you previously, I’m not sure I should support your behaving in a way that is apparently wildly out of character.”
“And as I believe I said to you previously, you started it.”
“Didn’t we determine that H. pylori started it?”
“Oh, now you want to blame the bacterium.”
“I want...” Helena began. She looked at Myka’s mouth again, and she thought, If only she would push her way in. Understand these words for the weak non-barriers they are, ignore them, and push her way in. The devil said, If she does it, you are not responsible. If she does it, that is your defense. Provoke her, and you can have what you want. The angel: What a self-serving moral universe you live in. If someone else commits the initial sin, you haven’t sinned as well? Helena said aloud, “I am blaming it. In its absence, we would have remained nothing but... professional associates.”
“Would we?” A lip-twist, one of the smallest and most shrewd. “I thought you said your impulses tended to steer you into trouble.”
Don’t do that smile, Helena wanted to tell her. Actually, don’t do any of them. “And as I also said, I don’t want to drag you there with me. I’ve already been the cause of one city official losing his job.” Keep talking, Helena told herself. Keep talking, and don’t think about how you want to go about stopping her talking or how you want her to stop your talking the same way. Just keep talking. “When this is all over. The project. We could sit down and—”
“You’ll have bid on something else by then. One big project, prove yourself; you’ll get more. That’s the idea.”
“I can’t predict the future. I can’t predict the future, but I am trying to do the right thing. For once.”
“I can’t predict the future either. But I want to do the right thing too. The right thing.”
“When this is all over,” Helena said again, and maybe it was a plea that that would someday be true.
“When this is all over, it’s going to be beautiful,” Myka said.
“The neighborhood, you mean,” Helena said, trying to dismiss any other interpretation.
Myka leaned to Helena then, but she did not push her way in. She came close, and she let her lips skim the skin of Helena’s jawline—not a cheek-kiss. Something different. Something that seemed to want to speak about when this is all over.
But Helena knew, and she knew she needed to remember: When this is all over, better that we didn’t. Because if we did, when that was all over, you would know what a mistake it had been. Because I haven’t changed. How awful it would be, Helena felt, for Myka to look back and associate her with a mistake. She could associate Helena with strange hospital intimacy, that was fine; strange familial masquerade, that as well. She could consider Helena outside the norm, certainly. Not the usual run of cases. Look back and remember me... look back and like to remember me.
****
In the ensuing days and weeks, Helena occupied herself with all the activity that managing a large project required: seeing to a great many details, attending a great many meetings, shaking a great many hands. Explaining a great deal of logistics, obtaining a great deal of buy-in. Ignoring a great deal of everything that did not relate to details, meetings, logistics. Such an approach had always insulated her from the worst consequences of any ill-considered behavior. She remembered, from the aftermath of Giselle, the deep comfort she had taken in putting her shoulders to a massive yoke. The effort was familiar, but where was that comfort now?
She visited the neighborhood site with some frequency, ostensibly observing the progress, but in reality reminding herself of precisely what was meant to matter and what was not... people laboring to realize a vision. Her vision. Her vision, the realization of which was resulting in those people’s continued employment.
“Are you okay?” Steve asked her on one such afternoon. They were regarding the initial framing of the walls of the community center, the model-piece of which still sat, undisturbed, on Helena’s desk. She had told herself that she would put it away once the structure was fully realized... of course she would. No doubt whatsoever. That was what she was waiting for. That was all.
She turned her back on the framing... unfortunately, that directed her gaze to the courtyard that no longer featured a fountain. “How exactly is one meant to balance all the things?” she asked Steve. “What if what you want, and, conversely, what you want—or what you have determined you really have no choice but to accept—which I suppose isn’t want, as such, but a resigning of oneself to a state of affairs—what if those are incompatible?”
“I didn’t follow that even a little. But I really think you’re fretting too much about this.”
Startled, Helena said, “How do you know about it?”
“The fountain? You’ve been ticked off since they nixed it. I’d have had to be in some sensory deprivation tank not to know.”
Helena tried not to sigh with relief. “It isn’t that. Or perhaps it is. I continue to wish... doesn’t it all feel incomplete? Without. It. The fountain.”
“You always say you’re fine with that kind of thing. It’s the most mindful stance you ever take.”
“That is what I always say,” Helena acknowledged. “It’s fine, and I will have to live with that. But it’s incomplete.”
“Do I even want to know what you’re really talking about?”
“No. It’s a good job, this one. This neighborhood.” Refocus, she told herself.
“Making a real difference,” Steve agreed. “I’m sure that’s why you’ve been walking around a building site looking like everything’s falling down.”
“Don’t be philosophical.”
“I have a degree in philosophy,” he reminded her, as he was wont to do. “Besides, I’m pretty sure ‘How is it possible to balance all the things’ is a question only philosophy can answer.” He paused. “Maybe an engineer if you’re talking about balancing things in the physical world. Or a well-trained acrobat?”
“Perhaps I do need one of those. Philosophy certainly isn’t helping.”
“Might, if you’d actually say out loud what you need help with.”
“Better I don’t say it out loud,” Helena said, then heard “Say what out loud?” from directly behind her.
She whirled around to see Abigail Cho. In a hardhat, appropriate for the site of course, although Helena—who was also wearing one, as was Steve—did always feel the hat to be overly costume. As if she were playing the part of an architect. “How ridiculous everyone looks in a hardhat,” she said to Abigail.
“Myka doesn’t look ridiculous in one. She looks cute.”
Helena struggled to utter a calm, “Does she.”
“Oh,” Steve said.
“Don’t ‘oh’ me,” Helena told him.
Abigail, with innocence that might have been real but struck Helena as unconvincing, asked, “Why is he ‘oh’-ing you?”
Steve answered her. “Uh... because I’m a philosopher?” Well, at least he tried.
Abigail nodded. “Say no more.”
“I have found,” Helena told her, “that telling that to a philosopher fails to produce the desired change in behavior.”
“I think my ‘oh’ was pretty succinct,” Steve said.
Helena conceded, though with a sulk, “I suppose you are also a Buddhist.”
“How can you be mad about Buddhism?” Abigail asked her. “You must really be in a mood. Hardhat-hair upsets you that much?”
Steve began, “She’s upset about—” Helena shot him a look, and he stumbled to, “The fountain. From the plans. Not being there.”
“Well. No doubt you know the koan,” Abigail said, and “oh lord no koans” Helena tried to say, but Abigail would not be deterred; with an extremely contented smirk, she said, “Slightly modified for my purposes here, but: first there is a fountain—”
And Steve lit up in response. “Ha! Then there is no fountain.”
“Then there is,” Abigail finished. “Steve, marry me.”
“I think we’d both be happier if I didn’t, what with me being gay,” Steve said, but he continued to smile. “Plus wouldn’t that mean we have a personal relationship?”
Helena was not even tempted to smile. She said, “I have had my fill of hearing about that ridiculous rule. It makes no sense at all! What is a personal relationship?”
Abigail shrugged. “A slippery slope that starts with coffee, as I understand it.” She knocked her knuckles against Helena’s hardhat. “Or maybe bacteria? I’m no expert.”
“Everything starts with bacteria,” Helena muttered.
“And ends with what?” Steve asked.
Abigail shrugged again. “I thought you were supposed to be the philosopher. But let’s see... Helena, what do you like for breakfast?”
“Grapefruit,” Helena uttered, as darkly as she could.
And Abigail shrugged yet again. “So, maybe that. I’ll let Myka know.”
Helena resisted the urge to raise her tablet and whack Abigail’s hardhat. “Why am I here?” she inquired of the universe.
“That’s definitely a question for Steve,” Abigail, or perhaps the universe via Abigail, responded.
“She never likes the answers I give,” Steve sighed.
“She should. Anyone who knows ‘first there is a mountain’ has some pretty good ones, I’m betting. Plus you’re adorable. Are you sure you don’t want to marry me?”
“I have a boyfriend. Haven’t I told you that already?”
“Not that I recall, but I bet he’s adorable too.”
“I think so. We’re talking about moving in together.”
“I hope you do. And I hope by then you’ve quit working for Helena, so you can invite me to the housewarming party.”
Helena said, and it was true, “If Steve quits, nothing at all will find itself built. And given that you’ve proposed to him, aren’t you the one at fault for pushing your relationship in that inappropriately personal direction?”
“Well, you’d know,” Abigail said. “But bear in mind that if I get kicked off the project too, you’re either out the door or stuck with my boss, and that’s a devil/deep blue sea proposition, or probably vice versa, because she’s a killer.”
“Literally?” Steve asked. Now he was the startled one.
“Let’s not find out,” Abigail told him.
Helena said, “No, let’s. She could put me out of my misery.”
“Cheer up,” Abigail told her. “I know you’re sad about ‘the fountain,’ but look at it this way: maybe you’re just in the ‘there is no grapefruit’ stage of your practice.”
“We might have to wait a long time for ‘then there is,’” Steve said. “She’s not good at reconciling paradoxes.”
Helena sank back into her sulk. “They resemble conundrums.”
“Conundra,” Abigail said.
“What. Ever,” Helena gritted out, and she considered the minimal extent to which she was likely to miss her tablet if she broke it across Abigail’s hard-hatted head.
As if she sensed Helena’s impulse, Abigail removed her hardhat and polished its crown against her sleeve. “You never know. Enlightenment—and personal relationships!—could be right around the corner.”
“They are not,” Helena said. Some devil was having fun with her. “They had better not be.”
But some devil continued to have fun with Helena, for not a week later she was at City Hall, rushing to make a meeting with a group of civil engineers, and she spotted a quite familiar conundrum emerging from around a corner, a long hallway away. Helena was caught: should she hurry into the meeting room, thus removing herself from a very tempting situation, or should she linger? Surely they could say hello; no one could object to a greeting. An impersonal greeting.
She lingered: one beat, waiting for two, waiting for Myka to make her way down the hall. But Myka instead looked down at the folder she held, stopped moving, then reversed course. She disappeared back around that same corner.
Perhaps she had not even seen Helena... but perhaps she had. Perhaps she had, and perhaps she had now wisely decided that she did care about appearances and consequences.
And perhaps this was that “next stage” that Steve and Abigail had been nattering about: Helena would no longer have to work hard at all at being good, if there no longer happened to be any chance that she would weaken and fail. She supposed she should thank Myka for turning away, regardless of her motivation. But of course she could not thank Myka, not for that or anything else... for she would have a difficult time keeping such thanks from becoming very personal.
****
Very late on a subsequent Friday evening, Helena received a call from Abigail. “This seems a rather personal time to call,” Helena told her, thinking to tease.
“Yeah,” Abigail said, with a tired heaviness—it was appropriate for the hour, but uncharacteristic. Then she asked, “So does that mean you heard?”
“Heard what? Are you all right?” Then a horrible thought: “Is Myka all right?” Preparing to dash for her car, drive to the hospital—
“It’d be a good idea if you never asked that again.”
“What is wrong?”
Abigail sighed. Abigail was not given to sighs. “A lot of things are fun and games. You know, until. But we had this big huge staff meeting this afternoon, practically everybody on the org chart—end of day Friday, of course, so everybody’s got the weekend to cool off—about how somebody in the finance department could have been fired today, but wasn’t.”
“Why does that call for a staff meeting?”
“Because of why he could’ve been fired. See, he’s a single dad. And he met a nice lady at his kid’s school’s PTA meeting a couple weeks ago.”
“That seems... not a firing offense.”
“Turns out she’s a big-deal CPA with the firm that audits and certifies our annual report.”
“He was threatened with firing because they said hello at a PTA meeting?”
“No. Because they slept together after that PTA meeting.”
“Oh,” Helena said, and in response to Abigail’s audible exhale, she added, “so why wasn’t he in fact fired?”
“Because they didn’t check each other’s résumés before they did it. So they claim.”
“And that claim was deemed plausible?”
“Anyway the point of my story is, it was a public shaming. There’s ethics and there’s ethics, I guess, and exposing people’s extremely private business in order to deter other people from bad-behavior business is something we’ve got no problem with.”
“But surely that’s actionable, to expose someone like that. Publicly.”
“Maybe so. But even if you can sue afterward, the humiliation still happened.” Abigail paused. “So I also want to take this opportunity to point out that Myka’s still not really over how awful she feels about her blood-and-guts meeting with just the two of you.”
“You’d like me to put two and two together,” Helena said. Abigail didn’t say anything, so Helena went on, “Because you want to make sure that nothing like a public shaming ever happens to her.”
“Fun and games. Until. It’s not that I wouldn’t rather hassle you sunup to sundown, but I don’t want anybody who isn’t in on the joke to get the wrong idea. And not to get too personal right here right now, but if you actually do care about her at all, I just think—”
“No.”
“You don’t actually care about her?”
“No, I mean ‘no, I won’t let that happen to her.’” Helena looked at the model-piece on her desk. She considered the strong wind against which the poor trees fought. “Of course I care about her. And before you warn me: no, I won’t let anyone else hear me say that.”
“Thanks.”
“What I will do is ask to see a résumé if I meet anyone new,” Helena said. It would certainly be just like her to actively reject something she wanted, in order to head off a suite of problems, only to crash obliviously through the door of an identically appointed suite.
“Planning on going out?”
“I think you know me well enough to know that isn’t likely to be true.” And she supposed that if she kept to that, no problems of that sort could ever arise again. A monkishly simple solution.
“I don’t know you at all,” Abigail said, with another sigh. “As far as anybody’s concerned, I don’t know you at all.”
Helena assured her, “I don’t know you either.” Abigail would most likely recover her good nature, once this pulse of pessimism had faded, but the news was nevertheless sobering. “Perhaps I will start going out,” she said, just to make herself feel worse.
“Who could blame you?” Abigail gloomed.
Myka could... but Helena had been foolish to hold out any sort of hope. And if she had been wishing for some continuation of their charade, no matter how farcical? Well, as Abigail had said, a lot of things were fun and games. Until.
****
Monday morning: early Monday morning. A fresh start. A correct start. Even the model trees seemed more upright. Helena beheld them with clear purpose; the community center would be completed in not very long.
Her telephone rang, and “Hi,” she heard from it, after a tree-distracted swipe. It had been flat on the desk, on speaker, but she immediately snatched it up, lest anyone happen to walk into her office and recognize the voice emanating from it.
“What do you think you are doing?” she demanded.
“Is that a trick question? I think I’m making a phone call,” Myka said.
“I know you were in that staff meeting Abigail told me about. I know it. Can you credibly claim that you failed to process that information? Or that you forgot it, between Friday evening and this morning? You cannot possibly have developed amnesia over the weekend. Can we say that you called me in error? Would anyone find that plausible? For that is what you must have done.” Stalling, backpedaling, trying to disguise her joy at hearing Myka’s voice. Trying to be stern in the face of that joy, for she had spent the weekend getting over it. Putting it behind her. But now here it was, in her ear and not all behind her, here as if Myka were here right beside her, in fact, speaking directly into her ear. If Helena imagined carefully enough, she could feel Myka’s breath.
“No, I’m pretty sure I hit all the right numbers. Given that you’re exactly the person I want to talk to.”
Her voice her voice her voice: exactly the sound Helena wanted to hear. But she said, “No, I’m not.”
“Yes, you are,” Myka responded, and Helena could hear her smile. “Because I need your help again. Don’t worry; no one will know.”
“I should tell you no.” Making that clear to herself as well as to Myka.
“You should,” Myka agreed. “Or just hang up on me.”
Helena did consider it. Semi-seriously. That consideration stretched into a great pause. “Why am I not doing that?”
Myka herself took an even greater pause. As if she could come up with no real reason? But then she said, “Because you think you should help me. Everything else aside, you think you should help me.”
I think I can only hurt you. “I saved your life, so now I’m responsible for you?” She tried to make it sound dismissive.
“No... wouldn’t that make Rick responsible for me?”
Of all the things Myka could have said, that was exactly right or exactly wrong, but in any case it made Helena leap to an indignant, “He certainly is not.”
“Then I think that leaves you.”
“Fine.” She said it quickly, but she knew she should not have been so eager to agree. Not now, when it was clearly no longer fun and games. But perhaps Myka was right: no one would know... “When and where? Is it your mother again?” And surely Myka’s mother would be safe enough...
“This time it’s just Rick.” Lovely, Helena sneered in her head. “He’s got a new girlfriend, another resident at the hospital, and he wants me to meet her. And obviously it would make no sense for me to meet her without you there too.”
“No sense,” Helena echoed. It was her most truly sensical utterance in, she felt, some time, so she repeated it: “No sense. So you and Rick are... what are you and Rick? Friends?”
“Honestly? Two people who’ve known each other since elementary school and started remembering that that was the important part. Not the stupid mistakes.”
“I suppose I can respect that. And support it.” And thus she talked herself fully into—well, into whatever it was she was going to do. “Also I suppose I’m pleased to know that he has a girlfriend, so perhaps he’ll ease off the digs at me.”
Such a trifling thing to express concern about, but it made Myka laugh. “You can take it. You’re tough.”
“I can take it. I don’t believe I should have to.” But Helena said these words while entirely preoccupied by the way Myka said “You’re tough.” Amused and familiar, with a little (possibly) flirty push on the word tough.
“I’ll give him a stern talking-to about it. How’s that?” Another little (possibly) flirty push, here on the word that.
“Do it in my presence and you have a deal.” Helena could easily see this reward being worth the risk. How stupidly telling.
“Wholly done. So I’ll see you? This Saturday, around six?”
“You will. Against my better judgment.”
“Against anything you want. Your better judgment, a wall—”
“All odds,” Helena interrupted. “Interpretation. The grain, the clock, the law.” Against anything but a wall, because dear god, imagining herself and Myka...
“The tide,” Myka said, and Helena breathed out. But then Myka added, “Pretty futile.”
****
Helena didn’t speak often with her brother. Charles still lived in England, and neither he nor she traveled across the ocean with any great frequency; nor were they particularly adept at managing the time-zone problems that stood in the way of technologically mediated speech. They engaged in occasional spates of email exchanges, during which they would send lengthy discussions of some topic back and forth daily for a week, or even two, but then one or the other would be overtaken by demands on her or his time, and the conversation would snap wherever it happened to snap.
So she knew when she called him, as she did not long after agreeing to Myka’s latest scheme, that he would understand that she understood the call to be as much a distress signal as a treat—although it was certainly as much the latter as the former. She was thus not surprised by his first words upon answering: “If you have a terminal disease, tell me at once.”
“I do not have a terminal disease,” she reported. “Other than life itself, from which we all suffer.”
“Excellent news. Or tragic, I suppose, terminal as we are. Have you committed a crime?”
“Not to the best of my knowledge. Wait, I take it back: I do still drive too fast, always, so yes, I have committed near-continual moving violations. Are those criminal?”
“No idea. But you haven’t been caught. Lately, that is.”
“No, as yet only the once.”
“So why are we talking? In this dramatic, real-time, voice-to-voice fashion? In what predicament do we find ourselves?”
“We find ourselves wanting to ask you a question,” she said.
“I don’t see how that’s a predicament.”
“It isn’t. The question is related to the predicament.”
“Am I part of the predicament?”
“I certainly hope not.”
“Then ask away.”
Helena had composed her question with care: “How did you fall in love with Jane?” she asked.
“I don’t believe falling in love is a ‘how’ question.”
I love my brother, Helena reminded herself. “Trust you to dispute the premise. What sort of question is it then?”
“A yes or no. So I’ll ask you: Have you fallen in love? Yes or no?”
Helena weighed possible ways of answering. None of them involved “yes” or “no.”
“Well?” Charles prodded.
“Here is how this is meant to go,” Helena told him. “You explain how you fell in love with Jane, and I say ‘What an enormous relief! That isn’t what happened in my case; ergo, I have not fallen in love.’”
“I suspect there are as many ‘what happened’ stories surrounding falling in love as there are stars in the sky. Sorry, that was a cliché. What else is unimaginably numerous?”
Helena sighed. “Bacteria in a colony. Growing in a nonexistent fountain.”
“Have you been drinking?”
“I don’t know what to do,” Helena said.
“First, whoever she is, give her my regards. Second, give her my sympathy. But third, tell me all about how beautiful she is—incidentally, why haven’t you sent a photo?—and detail all the ways she is everything you ever dreamed of but for which you never dared wish, for fear that—”
“Stop. She is beautiful. We can leave it at that. I certainly never thought to dream of her.”
Now Charles sighed. “Similarly, I never thought to dream of Jane.”
“You were not attending when I explained how this is meant to go.”
“Pfft. Attending when you explain how any thing is meant to go, what would be the point of that? Now tell me all.”
So she did. Plans and models and blood and fountains; hospitals and fiancées and cancer and mothers. The intended next deception. “And so now, again,” she concluded, “I find myself in the position of having to pretend to be pretending to be something I in fact already am.”
“I am so happy that all Jane and I had to work through, at the moment of our beginning, was that minor traffic accident.”
“She completely destroyed your car.”
Charles, still cheerful, said, “As far as I can ascertain, from my story and now yours, destructive capability is what a Wells looks for in a woman. We tell ourselves pretty stories about beauty and intellect, when what we really want is a wrecking ball.”
“Beauty and intellect are certainly not lacking, in Jane’s case or Myka’s.”
“I’m not saying we find them unnecessary. Just not sufficient.”
When they said their goodbyes, he chided her again for not having sent a photo. “I don’t have one,” she told him. She did not want to direct him to the news photos—she had looked at them more than once since the hospital, and every time she did, their unrepresentative nature struck her anew. If Charles saw them, he would get the wrong idea... not that it mattered one way or the other what idea he got, but it would do Myka an injustice.
“In this age of incessant representation? Come now.”
“She’s private,” Helena said.
“Find a way.”
Helena thought, I would like to. I would like to hold in my hands a great number of truly representative photos of her and gaze upon them. I would like to gaze upon her, never mind the photos. And do more than gaze... but I should not be thinking about this. Why is my brother so unhelpful?
“Why are you so unhelpful?” she asked aloud.
He pounced. “Aha! Yet another symptom: an inability to see how helpful others are in fact being. I thought you extremely unhelpful when you advised me to simply tell Jane that I wanted to see her again, rather than undertake my elaborate plan to get her attention by destroying her car in return.”
“I have no elaborate plan to destroy Myka’s car.”
“Make one at once, so I can talk you out of it.”
“You are useless.”
“But mar-ried to the wo-man of my dree-eams,” he sing-songed. “Those dreams I never thought to dream.”
“Useless.”
“Married!”
“Poor Jane. Give her my love.”
“And give Myka mine! She sounds lovely. Also send a photo, so I can judge for myself.”
“There is no reason for me to do that.”
“The quite compelling reason is that your unhelpful, useless brother has requested that you do so. Tell her that and take her picture, you coward.”
But doing so would mean revealing to Myka that she had spoken with her unhelpful, useless brother about Myka. That was a capitulation to reality that Helena could not allow.
She envisioned it nonetheless, again and again: “Smile,” she would say, and smile was what Myka would do. And “Why?” was what Myka would ask, but she would not cease from smiling, even as Helena explained about her unhelpful, useless brother... and Helena also envisioned, again and again and yet again, how Myka would smile once more, and once more not cease, on an imaginary future day when Helena offered the real explanation: Because I never thought to dream of you.
TBC
Note: I tried mightily to work into this part a joke about, or at least a reference to, the fact that the 1967 song “There Is a Mountain,” which incorporates “First there is a mountain; then there is no mountain; then there is,” is by Donovan. Given that Claudia isn’t a character here, I figured I could manage some sort of complicated shout-out... but I was tying the Abigail-Steve-Helena conversation in extra knots trying to get there, so here it is in a note instead. The song itself is pretty trippy, and it probably necessitates some careful thinking about cultural appropriation (and whether flutes were really quite that necessary in late-60s pop arrangements); also I probably should have resisted my “first there is a fountain” not-exactly-joke regardless, but I do mean it to be more meaningful than it may at first appear. I generally mean a lot of things to be more meaningful than they may at first appear.
#bering and wells#Warehouse 13#fanfic#Helicobacter#part 6#AU week#we humans are always getting ourselves into predicaments#in which we want two contradictory things to be true#but a lot of things happen in due time#I ran across an old page of notes the other day#I can't even remember what project it was for#but one quotation said the following:#'the universe's delays are not the universe's denials'#and I'm trying to take that to heart#even though it is at the same time true#that urgent action is often necessary#so as is additionally true in life#a lot comes down to categories#and determining what goes where
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I was going to try to do a Star Wars novels post this week, get back in the swing of things, but I can never stay away from STAR WARS fic for too long, there’s just too much that’s incredibly good! There’s so much that’s either just spot on to the characters or just hits the id or does something so clever that I’m enthralled (or does all three!) that is amazing and everyone should come scream about them with me!
STAR WARS RECS:
✦ Cataclasm by dendral, obi-wan & anakin & ahsoka & waxer & cast, 45.6k wip
For reasons unknown to all but himself, Obi-Wan Kenobi has left the Jedi Order in the midst of the Clone Wars, taking with him a single clone. Anakin Skywalker has been unofficially tasked by the Order to find Obi-Wan and bring him home. Unfortunately for Anakin, it seems his former master is always ten steps ahead of him.
✦ Fountain of Force by esama, qui-gon & cast, final fantasy 7 crossover, 8.9k
In which Qui-Gon Jinn comes from Gaia.
✦ Shih by esama, obi-wan & anakin & qui-gon, time travel, 8k wip
Obi-Wan Kenobi has a vision of the future, and tries to change it while elsewhere Ben Kenobi dies.
✦ Equinox by lilyconrad, obi-wan/anakin, NSFW, sith!obi-wan, 40.8k wip
During the Clone Wars, Obi-Wan and Anakin crash on a remote planet and take shelter in the ruins of a grand estate only to find they are not alone.
✦ At Your Service by DonkerRood, obi-wan/anakin, NSFW, crossdressing, spanking, 1.9k
Anakin dresses up in a maid outfit and he and Obi-Wan have some fun. Just smut.
✦ untitled by stonefreeak, shaak ti & yoda & kit fisto & mace windu & cast, 1.3k
When Shaak Ti returned to Coruscant she had not expected anything remotely as dire as an explosion at the Senate—injuring several senators and staff, killing two, and leaving Master Kenobi in a critical condition—to happen.
✦ Respite by GirlwithCurls98, anakin & ahsoka & rex & cast, 4.9k
After a particularly grueling mission, Anakin Skywalker, Ahsoka Tano, and the 501st are sent to Kamino for some much needed medical care.
✦ Pursuit by Icse, obi-wan/anakin, mildly nsfw, modern au, 6.8k wip
Anakin Skywalker is a Grand Prix jumper transitioning into the Eventing world. While his scores are good during the cross-country and show jumping phases of Eventing, his dressage scores are abysmal. His sponsor sets him up as a working student for two-time Dressage Gold Medalist Ben Kenobi to help him pursue his dream of competing in the Olympics.
✦ Untitled part 1 + part 2 by glare-gryphon, obi-wan/anakin, NSFW, a/b/o, 2.4k
Prompt: Anonymous asked: Hi are you still taking prompts at the moment? If yes how about Alpha Obiwan who when in rut tends to loose himself in his (very protective) instincts, while Omega!Anakin very much keeps his head and is very aware of what goes on around him but still willing to indulge Obiwan’s somewhat ridiculous alpha instincts
✦ On the Day After by victoria_p (musesfool), anakin & bail & breha, ~1k
Vader has many questions, and only one place to turn for answers.
✦ i’m just a kid of ill repute (and this skin i wear is my only suit) by SashaSea (SHCombatalade), obi-wan & anakin & padme & cast, kingsman fusion, 5.6k
“This is a disaster,” Anakin huffs out a near laugh, passing his remaining grenades to Obi-Wan. He accepts them with a grin and a few spare magazines for Anakin’s pistol, bumping their shoulders together. “This is fun.”
✦ Ain’t No Light Without the Dark by lumenbriide, obi-wan & anakin, 2.2k
“You should have joined me all those years ago, Kenobi.” Anakin overhears Dooku remind Obi-Wan about the temptation on Geonosis, and suddenly, Obi-Wan isn’t as infallible as he seems. He has secrets, just like Anakin; and their bond can only get stronger.
✦ Rewrought by esama, obi-wan & qui-gon & maul, time travel, 4.4k
Bit o time travel
✦ Faithless by esama, obi-wan, 2.5k
Obi-Wan loses his faith in Tatooine
full details + recs under the cut!
✦ Cataclasm by dendral, obi-wan & anakin & ahsoka & waxer & cast, 45.6k wip
For reasons unknown to all but himself, Obi-Wan Kenobi has left the Jedi Order in the midst of the Clone Wars, taking with him a single clone. Anakin Skywalker has been unofficially tasked by the Order to find Obi-Wan and bring him home. Unfortunately for Anakin, it seems his former master is always ten steps ahead of him.
Chapter 10: This is an update rec and will focus on this chapter, rather than the fic as a whole. This is the end of the first arc of this fic and it’s a good place to leave off, including the previous chapter, as there’s been at least enough resolution to be a good stopping point, even though the major things are still in play. This is a chapter that’s about Ahsoka and her visions, how it starts to explore a bit of what it means to be a Jedi in contact with the Force, to have to struggle through being unsure if it’s your own anxiety that’s making you feel bad or if it’s a warning from the Force or some twisty, turny combination of both, and how they desperately need control over themselves to not spiral out, to not be consumed by all of this. The moments between Anakin and Ahsoka as he comforts her after a series of bad dreams, lightly touching on how Obi-Wan used to do the same for him, was really lovely and wonderful and worth the read alone! But also the really sweet moments with Yoda and Ahsoka!
I continue to love that this is a fic that’s spot on for the Jedi, if they’d ever managed to catch a fucking break or to have things brought to a head sooner, that they’re all struggling through this dark time, but they care very much and work so hard to do the best thing, and there are still moments of joy (Ahsoka and Yoda saying they’d ask Anakin to join them for meditation, which they’re surehe’ll love, I had such a smile on my face!) that it’s one of the best fics out there right now.
✦ Fountain of Force by esama, qui-gon & cast, final fantasy 7 crossover, 8.9k
In which Qui-Gon Jinn comes from Gaia.
I wasn’t sure what to expect when I picked up this chapter to read (which stands on its own, it’s part of a collection of shorter fics, but they’re unconnected), but I was curious and I’ve always liked this author’s work. What I got was something that was half-world-building and half character piece, wrapped up in the setting of a crossover, all of which came together just exactly as it should. The two worlds blended very well together, the River of Light and the stone Qui-Gon picks up that’s Force-sensitive, the way everything on Gaia just bubbles over with the Living Force, the way this is used by Qui-Gon to gain a deeper understanding of himself, in a lovely and incredibly Jedi sort of way, is wonderfully done. This is a piece that I thought really captured his character, this felt like the character I recognized and was incredibly engaging! It’s not just about Gaia, it really is a piece centered on Qui-Gon Jinn as a character, about his life as a Jedi and the antics he gets into (the sense of this being an actual galaxy is very nicely done as well! I enjoyed the helium-breathing planet just as much as I enjoyed Gaia just as much as I enjoyed everything else), it’s about self-reflection and understanding his own flaws and working on them, just as much as he understands what he’s good at.
It helps to be familiar with FF7, especially to understand the connection of the rock that Qui-Gon picks up and what happens later, likely because of it, but you absolutely don’t need to know it to enjoy this fic, it can just be a cool background world for Qui-Gon to have come from while you read the characterization stuff! It’s one of those fics that I read and made me fall back in love with the potential of Star Wars, it’s one of those fics that I felt like it understood what a Jedi would actually go through and how they’re such good people and the kinds of things they struggle with, it’s one of those fics that made it genuinely interesting and engaging to read! It’s a great piece for someone who has trouble finding Qui-Gon fic that suits my feelings, but also it’s just a really good fic.
✦ Shih by esama, obi-wan & anakin & qui-gon, time travel, 8k wip
Obi-Wan Kenobi has a vision of the future, and tries to change it while elsewhere Ben Kenobi dies.
Oh, well. This fic is only two chapters at the time of this rec and already I’m So Very Sad about it, because it’s such a lovely, aching look at these characters and the impending doom hanging over them all, that Obi-Wan is plauged by unspecific but inescapable visions, that he knows something is going to go terribly wrong, but he doesn’t know what and trying to figure that out, trying to navigate between this sweet child in front of him versus the cloak of darkness that swirls around him, that visions don’t necessarily always come true versus that this one is one he knows is more important than that. I absolutely adored the scene where Obi-Wan goes to talk to moppet Anakin, the glimpse he gets into the child’s fears and uncertainty, the kindness that Obi-Wan naturally extends to him, it’s so true to his character, even as there’s a vague current of hurt and unease that Qui-Gon has so easily replaced him. But it’s not bitter, because that’s not who Obi-Wan Kenobi is, instead it finds just the right amount of sad versus knowing that he’s capable of walking forward to whatever comes next.
I would have read this fic just for that first chapter, the relationships Obi-Wan has with both of these people! But then the second chapter came along and, oh, Ben is so tired and worn down, there’s something so difficult about all the hard-won experience he’s gained, the balance between regret that he couldn’t do more, that it felt almost wasteful to stay on Tatooine, versus knowing that it was the right decision. That, when he realizes there’s a chance for change, it’s not a simple thing and that complicated tangle is so much more interesting than a straight-forward fix-it (much as I love love love fix-it fics, don’t get me wrong, I’m hoping for a fix it here, I’m hoping for good things, but I love that it’s not ever meant to be easy, if it were, then the original canon wouldn’t mean so much) and the conversation they have, the things that Ben understands because he’s seen so much more, are perfectly done. Because he’s right, it wasn’t just one thing or one person. And the ending of that chapter is the perfect hook to make sure I’m going to keep reading, because, damn, I’m definitely invested now!
✦ Equinox by lilyconrad, obi-wan/anakin, NSFW, sith!obi-wan, 40.8k wip
During the Clone Wars, Obi-Wan and Anakin crash on a remote planet and take shelter in the ruins of a grand estate only to find they are not alone.
Chapter 8: This is an update rec and will focus on this chapter, rather than the fic as a whole. Also, there are likely to be spoilers beyond this point! One of the best things about this chapter is just how high the tension of it was, that the reveal wasn’t the end of it, but instead yet another racheting up point, that learning how the Sith versions were visions more than anything, the research that Obi-Wan had done (and I really enjoyed the difficulty with the translations and poetic language, it’s one of those little touches that really works for me) and how they both had to work to figure out what was going on in a way that felt spot on to them, that they would investigate and discuss things this way, but without feeling like the story had hit pause for the characters to become talking heads, which is something that can be hard to avoid. Instead, this felt like two characters who were genuinely on edge, little touches of Obi-Wan drumming his fingers on the datapad or the way Anakin curled up in the blankets add to this, that show what they’re feeling, rather than telling us. This adds to the creepy atmosphere of the house, whatever’s going on with the Force here, how run-down and dilapidated everything feels here in a very spooky way.
This is also the chapter where the Jedi versions, the real versions, first tumble into bed together beyond just a shard kiss or curling up together, and that made sense to me, because I really felt this sense of isolation with them, that they’re the only two people here in this house. When the Sith were there, sure, they were on edge and wary of them, couldn’t trust them, but at least someone else was there, but now there’s just nothing but them and whatever shadow is lurking around the corner and trying to sneak its way into them. This twines around the confession from the night before, Anakin learning to trust Obi-Wan just a little bit by telling him the truth, Obi-Wan helping to shoulder that burden with him, and so it’s pulling a whole lot of feelings and sexual tension to the surface, resulting in how they tumble together in a way they might not have in other circumstances, but makes sense for them in this moment. The connection is still real, it’s about what was already under the surface, even as it’s heightened!
I also really loved the smaller reveal in this chapter of what was happening with the beacon–the answer was the only one that made sense with what we already knew, but even having guessed it, it doesn’t detract from the creepy scene and the build-up of the tension when Obi-Wan was following Anakin, the way his whole demeanor was just weird and unsettling, like a shiver-inducing fugue state, until something seemed to be trying to dra him away into the dark, something that wasn’t just a physical presence, but was getting at his mind. And that’s far more creepy than just some physical monster that can be fought with a laser sword!
And then there’s the sex itself, ahhhhh. As much as I would have enjoyed penetrative sex, I think the handjob/blowjob combination probably works better here, because they’re just starting out, because it’s more about the desperate need for contact with the other person–especially Anakin, who is so afraid and feels whatever’s in the house so keenly, even more than Obi-Wan does. Not that the verbal comfort wasn’t lovely as well, I loved so very much that Obi-Wan was extra careful with his words because he knew how brittle and on edge Anakin was here, that Obi-Wan was so careful not to blame him for turning off the beacon, because that’s not what his concern was about. And that he’s hyperfocused on Anakin a way the situation warrants, so of course he makes even more effort than usual to make sure Anakin understands the lack of blame–another way where their interaction is heightened from normal, but in a way that’s pulling up what was already there underneath and makes sense for them.
But, okay, also Obi-Wan’s hand in Anakin’s hair, the visions of what their counterparts had done, what that says about what these two want, the darkness that looms in this place, even when these characters are both such good people, that this was about desire and want and heat and fear all rolled up together. It was the perfect balance between my affection for the way the (Soft) Sith versions are used in fic against how the Jedi are good and so valuable, that it’s about these characters as people and what they’ve been through and what they want, yessss.
All of that is true, there’s so much I love on a narrative level, on a more intellectual level, but then I whip right back around to: But Obi-Wan’s hand in Anakin’s hair. The way Anakin’s mind goes blissfully blank, the way he so desperately wants to belong to his Master, that desperate step forward that crashes right through his usual knee-jerk reactionary “I don’t belong to anyone!”, to show that if he choose to give himself to someone, chooses to let that person have power over him, then it’s different and comforting and so good. It’s about safety, it’s about being able to relax, because everything in his head isn’t dragging him down, that there’s someone there to take so much weight off him. But also I just really loved the image of Anakin all pliant and messy and sprawled out beneath his Master, cast in shadows, like he’s still very much a Jedi, but the imagery and potential thematic meaning in a house full of so much shadow is really, really lovely.
✦ At Your Service by DonkerRood, obi-wan/anakin, NSFW, crossdressing, spanking, 1.9k
Anakin dresses up in a maid outfit and he and Obi-Wan have some fun. Just smut.
This was one of those fics that was just exactly what I needed when I picked it up, one of those that appeals right to my id and gives me the fun, light-hearted, smutty things I apparently enjoy a ridiculous amount. Anakin in a maid’s uniform, roleplaying with it and acting out to be bratty and so he’ll get Obi-Wan’s attention, who will spank him before fucking him, and it’s exactly what it says on the tin, if you go into this fic, you know exactly what you’re getting and you gotta roll with that. But it’s warm-hearted as well, it’s meant to be fun and joyful, that it’s about giving Anakin what he wants, satisfying something in him and making him feel so loved and content, that Anakin is so very gorgeous like this and Obi-Wan enjoys seeing him being able to whine for more, that Anakin gets to do that, that Obi-Wan gets to fuck the noise and restlessness right out of Anakin’s head. And by the time he’s finally pushing into Anakin, finally fucking him, it’s just nicely satisfying sex and exactly what I needed during shark week, bless and thank.
✦ untitled by stonefreeak, shaak ti & yoda & kit fisto & mace windu & cast, 1.3k
When Shaak Ti returned to Coruscant she had not expected anything remotely as dire as an explosion at the Senate—injuring several senators and staff, killing two, and leaving Master Kenobi in a critical condition—to happen.
This is part of the Supreme Chancellor Obi-Wan series and should be read in order by this point! And, ahhhh, this was such a lovely tide-over until the next piece, where it’s not really about resolution, but about the Jedi reacting to the explosion that happened recently, the chaos they’re trying to help tame, and one of their own being injured and what that means for young Skywalker. This is so spot on for them, how they work to remain calm in the face of such awful circumstances and they work so hard to do the best for everyone, to break the news as best they can, consider what’s the best thing for everyone in the situation. There’s such consideration of Anakin’s reactions, knowing how close he and Obi-Wan are, and it’s just so good and warm-hearted and kind a fic that I’m in love all over again.
✦ Respite by GirlwithCurls98, anakin & ahsoka & rex & cast, 4.9k
After a particularly grueling mission, Anakin Skywalker, Ahsoka Tano, and the 501st are sent to Kamino for some much needed medical care.
This was a cute little fic about Anakin and Ahsoka having pushed themselves so far that they need to rest, that they’re on the edge of physical collapse from how hard the Jedi are running themselves in this war. And there’s a lot of complicated feelings in here, especially Anakin who still doesn’t really understand the Jedi (so the line about the Code is unreliable, considering Anakin doesn’t really get it), but mostly it’s a healing fic, where Anakin cares so deeply about her, how his relationship with Obi-Wan helps him even when they’re not anywhere near each other at the moment, how the clones care so deeply about the Jedi and vice versa, how they Ahsoka and the clones help each other when they need this moment of respite. It was such a sweet fic in the middle of such a horrible war and I really enjoyed it a lot for that!
✦ Pursuit by Icse, obi-wan/anakin, mildly nsfw, modern au, 6.8k wip
Anakin Skywalker is a Grand Prix jumper transitioning into the Eventing world. While his scores are good during the cross-country and show jumping phases of Eventing, his dressage scores are abysmal. His sponsor sets him up as a working student for two-time Dressage Gold Medalist Ben Kenobi to help him pursue his dream of competing in the Olympics.
This is one of those fics that appeals directly to what I want sometimes when I’ve had enough of the heartbreak of canon and when fandom has gotten extra spirit crushing about things–where it’s a light-hearted, warm, embracing-the-fluff modern AU where Anakin is a horse jumper training for the next level, while Ben trains him and Anakin desperately, desperately wants to fall into bed with him. Where it’s all about Anakin being an adorable, soft disaster who does everything he can to get Ben’s attention, who is trying to stay away from doing anything with him because he feels its not proper. It’s just fun when you’re in the mood for something completely, ridiculously warm-hearted and cute and fluffy and with a little bit of smut mixed in. Which is exactly what I’m here for and I just sort of wrapped myself up in this like a warm, fuzzy blanket!
✦ Untitled part 1 + part 2 by glare-gryphon, obi-wan/anakin, NSFW, a/b/o, 2.4k
Prompt: Anonymous asked: Hi are you still taking prompts at the moment? If yes how about Alpha Obiwan who when in rut tends to loose himself in his (very protective) instincts, while Omega!Anakin very much keeps his head and is very aware of what goes on around him but still willing to indulge Obiwan’s somewhat ridiculous alpha instincts
The first part is this cute, light-hearted, fluffy thing where Anakin has to put up with Obi-Wan’s rutting instincts and the nests he winds up making and it’s really adorable! And the second one is just ridiculously satisfying a/b/o porn, together the two of them are just an absolute delight to read! I am always here for Anakin in heat, just desperately wanting wanting wanting, wanting his Master to fill him up and fuck him and get this noise out of his head, I am always here for Obi-Wan who tries to be considerate and thoughtful, but it’s contrasted against the rutting instincts, where he just wants to flip Anakin onto his stomach and drive into him, wants to finally claim him and hold him and take care of him. And these two just hit me right where I live, they’re charismatic and, oh, the way Obi-Wan ground against Anakin’s backside, almost lost to this desire to push into him fast and hard, but holding back just enough to ease the way for Anakin, until he’s finally open and relaxed enough that Obi-Wan can properly fuck him, it’s sosatisfyingly delicious. I have a thing for Obi-Wan grinding back and forth, trying to hold himself back while Anakin writhes and tries to adjust, but they both want more, and this fic just delivered that so very well for me.
✦ On the Day After by victoria_p (musesfool), anakin & bail & breha, ~1k
Vader has many questions, and only one place to turn for answers.
This is a follow-up to On the Day Before, which should be read first! This was a lovely sequel piece to the previous one and it walks a fine line, because Vader isn’t someone who is kind or does good things anymore, but also I can believe that he could be inspired to follow Padme’s daughter, that there’s just enough of a spark of good and some misguided intentions, and it absolutely nails that Vader has never wanted power for himself, it’s always been about being someone else’s sword, someone he would do any amount of dark things to protect. And this fic walks that fine line very well, that Vader sees that he can’t just brute force strength his way through this, Leia would never be won over, but instead he has plans about her and, oh, it’s a disaster in the making and it’s spot on, this was so much fun to read!
✦ i’m just a kid of ill repute (and this skin i wear is my only suit) by SashaSea (SHCombatalade), obi-wan & anakin & padme & cast, kingsman fusion, 5.6k
“This is a disaster,” Anakin huffs out a near laugh, passing his remaining grenades to Obi-Wan. He accepts them with a grin and a few spare magazines for Anakin’s pistol, bumping their shoulders together. “This is fun.”
This was a fun fusion piece that just sailed right along and had the right kind of charisma and charm to keep me engaged the whole way through, there was just the right amount of sparkle and whatever-it-is that makes a fic fun to read! It’s fairly light-hearted and it’s centered on Anakin, as well as his relationships with Obi-Wan and Padme that are each complicated and each something more than friendship, something deeply rooted in him, if in different ways–and I really loved that with Padme it was more overtly romantic, but with Obi-Wan it felt more like he was woven into the fabric of Anakin’s life, both made for satisfying dynamics! I do think you should be familiar with the first Kingsman movie to read this one, but it’s definitely a delightful pick-me-up when you need something fun to read!
✦ Ain’t No Light Without the Dark by lumenbriide, obi-wan & anakin, 2.2k
“You should have joined me all those years ago, Kenobi.” Anakin overhears Dooku remind Obi-Wan about the temptation on Geonosis, and suddenly, Obi-Wan isn’t as infallible as he seems. He has secrets, just like Anakin; and their bond can only get stronger.
A lovely little story about Dooku trying to tempt Obi-Wan away from the Jedi and how it doesn’t really work, that’s not who Obi-Wan is at heart, and the conversation Obi-Wan has with Anakin afterwards and what that pulls to the surface between them. This is a story centered on Anakin’s complicated feelings and the relationship between these two characters, one that works towards giving them a little bit more understanding and showing the depth of care between them in an understated but entirely genuine way. It was a very nice read, one that engaged me from beginning to end and I’m very glad I picked up to read!
✦ Rewrought by esama, obi-wan & qui-gon & maul, time travel, 4.4k
Bit o time travel
This is one of those fics that’s the kind of thing I daydream about sometimes, what a time-traveling Obi-Wan Kenobi would do, had he a chance to do the Naboo invasion all over again, and written in an incredibly engaging, easy to imagine sort of way. It’s not precisely a happy fic, but it’s balanced between standing well on its own if this is all there ever is, it’s short glimpse into the canon being shifted to another track, or it could spiral out from here, if it was ever continued. I’m fine with either way, really, because what the point was focused on was the moments where Obi-Wan makes his move, where he springs his plans into actions, and seeing that through the eyes of people who have no idea what’s going on. The loss of Obi-Wan in their eyes, the grief Qui-Gon has to work through, the chaos that comes from the actions of the “Sith Lord” that escaped Naboo, it’s all super engaging and interesting and fascinatingto watch unfold! It’s beautifully characterized and written, it’s got great action and great emotional impact and so much potential that sets my thoughts spinning around it, which is exactly what I wanted from a quick time-travling oneshot!
✦ Faithless by esama, obi-wan, 2.5k
Obi-Wan loses his faith in Tatooine
Oh, this one definitely hurt to read, all the more so because Obi-Wan is sort of right about some things and sort of terribly wrong about others, but that’s kind of the point of his time on Tatooine, that he’s struggling through so much. It’s not ultimately where he’s meant to end up, because Obi-Wan is someone who comes back to his faith, but as a piece where he loses his way, it really worked for me, that this is one part of a bigger cycle that Obi-Wan goes through in his isolation. The writing is so sad and lovely, so self-reflective and you can feel the loss from the character without it being hammered home into the reader, there’s something almost understated here, except also there’s beautiful imagery–I’m not explaining this well, but it’s just a really well-done piece. It’s very much a piece about Obi-Wan being lost, even as he manages to continue to get up every day, some days harder than others, that he continues forward on this path he’s on, that it’s not just the loss of his family and culture, but a loss of faith and the slow, horrible feeling that instills in me, reading this. So sad, but lovely.
#obi wan kenobi#anakin skywalker#ahsoka tano#obikin#qui gon jinn#padme amidala#fic recs#star wars fic recs#my first set in awhile i'm kinda nervous but here have some fic!
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Dark interruptions {James T Kirk x reader}
Hey guys! Sorry for the lack of update on this story, I’ve been extremely busy. Anyway, here’s the third part of “Not Mine To Hold”. If you have no clue as to what I’m talking about, please read the previous parts. Btw, I watched Wonder Woman today. Finally! I LOVED Gal Gadot. The movie was so good. I might be biased, but I think Steve Trevor is the most precious person in the world. Like, Chris did a fabulous job as Steve. Also, I think that anyone named Steve should be kept away from planes that contain bombs. I can’t deal with similar incidents! ONE TIME WAS ENOUGH!
Warning: A few curse words, like shit and ass, nothing major… angst maybe?
Words: 1135 words
Part 1 Part 2
Back to the reader’s point of view. Happy reading!! Btw, so many references! Kudos if you can find all of them. Some aren't obvious. Some are. Good luck!
Words had such power. When ever someone got hurt, they would blame the situation or a person, never the words that were uttered. Some words could wreck lives some could break a person’s spirit.
Today, words had almost broken you. Words said three years ago were long forgotten but left a bitter aftertaste. Words could be poisonous and destructive.
People always forgot the power of words until they were addressed towards them. Until they actually sank in.
All day, today, you kept telling yourself that things couldn’t possible be any worse. The man that had been your best friend for over two decades, the man you were madly in love with, was ignoring you and marrying another woman. Worst of all, you were given a front row seat as you watched everything you ever wanted being handed to another. And let’s not forget the smile you had to plaster on your face so that people wouldn’t get suspicious.
Yet again, the Universe hated you. Karma was a piece of shit and your life was the pièce de résistance in a world of utter despair. You were sure that someone, somewhere was looking down upon you and laughing their ass off over the misery that was your life. And so, to make it more miserable, the message had come through.
The only possible thing that could have made this whole situation all the more shitty.
As you sat in a shuttle heading back to San Francisco, the words kept ringing in your mind. Over and over again.
Now see, someone like you only had a couple of things that made you happy. Friends (mainly your best friend), family, your job and your dog, Merlin. You called him Merl or Merli for short. He was a beautiful black Labrador that had befriended your neighbour’s golden retriever, that reminded you eerily of Arthur Pendragon. And so, the name. It was ADORABLE!
{I REST MY CASE!}
From these limited amount of things, you could check off best friend, Merlin was at your neighbour’s place playing chase my tail with Arty, and all your family was off planet. So the only thing you really had left was your job.
…
Until now.
The words “Explosion in lab, experiment compromised” were the last words you EVER wanted to hear or read in your entire life. An experiment that you had spent 3 years on, was gone. Woosh! Into thin air!
While for most, it wouldn’t have been a big issue, mishaps happened. For you, it was the end. This experiment had taken meticulous planning, preparation and a huge amount of money. It would save lives in the near future, and it was gone.
Things couldn’t possibly have gone worse. And that was the last straw that broke the dam.
So here you were, on a damn shuttle, crying at the mess your life was. You didn’t even know if someone had been injured or killed. Everything was a mess.
Two hours later.
San Francisco was a beautiful city. Even though it had been almost a decade since Khan’s attack, some of the damage was still being repaired. People were still reeling from the trauma brought from the entire incident.
Some people would never forget.
As you walked trough the streets leading to the Starfleet labs, you remembered. Because as much as you tried, you could never forget that day.
How could you forget the day when some of your closest friends were slaughtered by the hands of a psychopath? {A.N: Or High-functioning sociopath… sorry, couldn’t resist :/ } How could you forget the moment you received the news of Pike’s death?
How you wished to forget. To forget the broken look in Jim’s eyes. The tears shed by the man you loved in grief of losing a second father. The dark night where neither of you slept, seeking comfort in each others arms. The night that was spent in silence, in memory of a dear friend.
You wished you could forget the unseeing blue eyes that sometimes still haunted your nightmares. You wished you could, one day, walk by the the warp core chamber without flinching or feeling dizzy.
The walk to the labs was spent in a daze, and then you saw it. Your precious lab. The lab that contained the antidotes to many illnesses. As you walked towards it, you saw them. Dead bodies laid on the ground, waiting to be brought to the hospital.
Oh God, you thought. So many lives lost. As you walked towards the security guard standing near the main door, your comm beeped.
“Y/L/N“
“Y/N, its Jemma.“
Jemma was one of the scientists that worked for you.
“Hey. I just got here. Are you okay? Where are you?”
“Yeah, I’m fine. I’m near the water fountain, at the main entrance.“
“On my way. Y/L/N out.“
You sped walked until you reached Jemma.
“Oh my God, Jem, are you okay? What happened? Did you get checked by the EMTs?“
“Hey, Y/N. Calm down, I’m fine. Oh God, I was so close to the explosion. I don’t-I don’t know what happened. I just don’t know.”
You were about to reply when you saw Admiral Baker walk towards you.
“Commander Y/L/N, Lieutenant Simmons.“
“Admiral“, you both replied.
You spoke first.
“Sir, do you know what happened here?“
“You tell me Doctor.“
“Pardon me, but what exactly are you implying, Sir?”
“Dr. Y/L/N, it is clear to me that this explosion was a lab mistake.“
“I assure you Admiral, none of my people broke protocol. My lab is like my house, I spend days and night here, working and so does every single person that works for me. I have full faith in my scientists, they will never endanger the lives of others, and above all, they would never compromise our years worth of hard work.“
“Doctor, I mean no disrespect but-“
“Pardon me Admiral, but I do not think we should jump to any conclusions until we get a full report from forensics.“
“Very well. Doctors.“
With a nod and a slight glare in your direction, the Admiral turned around and left.
One hour later.
7:20 pm.
You were approached by the lead forensic scientist assigned to the incident.
“Are you Doctor Y/L/N?“
“Yes.“
“My name is Melanie Stabler. I’m here to brief you on our conclusion. The Admirals have been briefed already so now it is your turn. We believe that this incident was no accident. According to our findings, an explosive device was set to detonate in the L-25 wing, your lab. We believe that the device was most likely placed in room L-102, meani-“
Your comm beeped again, interrupting her mid sentence.
You gestured for her to hold on a second.
“Y/L/N.“
“Y/N, its Jim. I-“
Another explosion rang out, and everything went black.
To be continued.
I feel like such a Steven Moffat right now. Damn cliffhangers, I can’t stop! Sorry, this part didn’t turn out the way I wanted it to. I hope you guys liked it. I LOVE reading the comments and reblog tags. So please comment and write funny stuff so that it gives me motivation to write more. Until next week, folks!
TAGS:
I believe this is the complete tag list, somehow Tumblr keeps deleting my final list… If I forgot to tag you, send me a message.
@wonders-of-the-enterprise @samaxraph99 @saveatruckrideoptimusprime@curiosity-killed-the-speedster @yourtropegirl @engineeringtrashcan @a-mermaid-in-space @goingknowherewastaken @eufeme @hayleynightcore @avengersgirllorianna
#James T. Kirk#james t kirk x reader#james t kirk fanfiction#Jim Kirk#jim kirk oc#jim kirk fanfiction#jim kirk x reader#star trek#Star Trek Fanfiction#uss enterprise#not mine to hold#part 3
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cciv.
1. Predict what your life will look like a year from now.
>> I doubt there will be much different about my life in August of 2018. Sparrow will undoubtedly have settled into a more permanent place of employment, so our quality of life may have shifted (in the financial sense), hopefully for the better. We’ll probably still be living here, so no major changes to my worldstate are predicted. Anything else, I can’t possibly predict with any confidence.
2. What is the nicest compliment you’ve ever been given?
>> All compliments are good compliments.
3. What makes someone a best friend?
>> I don’t have an answer for that. It varies from person to person, anyway. I get soulmate and best friend and life partner and the rest of those superlative hierarchical terms all confused, to be honest. --In which case, Can Calah fits all of them by default.
4. Are you young at heart, or an old soul?
>> I have always existed in a state of temporal liminality, making all age-related terms erroneous.
5. How is your blog a reflection of yourself? What do you think people assume or know about you by looking at your blog?
>> It’s a reflection of myself because I strictly curate things that appeal to me personally. I have dedicated this space to myself, to the expression of the innumerable facets of my being and their intersections, and it has performed ably in that capacity.
And it’s funny you should ask that, because about an hour ago someone I know informed me that they tried to give someone they know a description of my blog and this is what they came up with:
“I honestly don't fucking know, they either are God (tm) or wanna fuck God(tm) and probably would foursome The Diety of their choosing, Idris and Matthew Macone-whatever in the Matrix just for the aesthetic and the #thirst tag.”
So I imagine that’s largely the impression I give.
6. Make a five song playlist that sums you up as a person.
>> Death is the Road to Awe, Clint Mansell (from the soundtrack to The Fountain);
Gethsemane, Vanden Plas (a cover of the Jesus Christ Superstar song);
Starboy, The Weeknd;
Break On Through (To the Other Side), The Doors;
Blazing Star, Dethklok.
There are a lot of songs that could contribute to a comprehensive profile of me as an [infinite singularity of] individual[s], considering I’ve been looking for myself in songs since I knew how to look, but you asked for five, so.
7. Do you have a Facebook?
>> Yes. You’re welcome to add me on it. It’s largely stupid memes and me complaining about the most random shit.
8. What’s the most annoying thing about the person you like?
>> Which one? (What kind of ‘like’? Be more specific.)
9. You ordered pizza last night, and have been looking forward to eating the leftovers all day. You go home and the box is still in the fridge, but someone has eaten all of it and it’s empty. What do you do?
>> That’s impossible. First of all, Sparrow doesn’t even like the same kind of pizza I do. Second of all, she’s scatterbrained all right, but I am going to give her the benefit of the doubt that she wouldn’t leave an entire empty pizza box in our small-ass fridge. Try again.
10. What’s an inanimate object in your house that holds significance for you, and why do you find it so significant?
>> The empty bottle of Baron Samedi Rum that sits on my desk holds significance for me (obviously, seeing as I never keep things that have no clear purpose, like empty liquor bottles). I bought it in New Orleans and it reminds me of O’Dim. It is perfect.
(I’ll get rid of it when we finally move. After all, I won’t need these fragile pieces of home once I’m actually there.)
11. How do you look right now?
>> Like a snack. (How am I supposed to answer this???)
12. What is one of your bad habits?
>> Drinking, I suppose.
13. What were you doing at eleven last night?
>> I think I was on tumblr, or some other part of the internet.
14. Are you sure that you were born in the right era?
>> Does it matter?
15. You know at least one person named Michael. Tell me about him.
>> He’s married to Sparrow’s sister, he studied film, he likes sour beer, and he used to be a skater. I don’t know much about him personally, it’s mostly just factoids that don’t knit together into a full picture very well.
16. You’ve got the TV on, but you’re not really watching. What channel is the TV on?
>> I don’t do that. Sparrow is more likely to do that, and it’d probably be some HGTV show on Hulu.
17. What’s an inside joke you share with your friends?
>> The first thing that popped into my head was #sunfuckers incorporated, honestly.
18. Name a song that never fails to make you happy.
>> No song is 100% successful at that, obviously, but Blood Red Summer by Coheed and Cambria has a strong track record. Very bright, very vibrant, probably about something either horrific or sad (deceptively fun-sounding songs about interstellar war and sundered family dynamics and lost/broken love -- all amindst vague cosmic horror -- is kind of their thing, after all).
19. If you had to diagnose yourself with any mental illness, which would it be?
>> ASD is my self-diagnosis.
20. Would you like to reconnect with any friends that you’ve lost contact with?
>> I wouldn’t be opposed to it.
21. Name at least three things you could stand to cut out of your life.
>> Whatever it is, I probably won’t be cutting it out of my life any time soon, so there’s no point in even pretending otherwise.
22. What is “normal”? Are you normal?
>> I assume that the most practical working definition for ‘normal’ is ‘consistently compatible and compliant with the beliefs, morals, and behaviour systems of one’s society’ -- if so, I feign ‘normal’ with varying success. Mostly I am content with being a quiet but adamant outlier.
23. Biggest turn ons?
>> Expansive and adaptable consciousness. Abnormally high levels of curiosity and mirth. At least two (2) tentacular appendages.
24. Do you practice what you preach?
>> What I preach is usually integral to my being, so I can’t help but practice it. What I parrot is often a different story. (Parroting, I’ve found, is useful in the successful maintenance of a person suit. I don’t parrot much here, so don’t worry. It’s mostly for the benefit of people less fortunate in the cognition and analysis department who unfortunately have the ability to make my outlier life difficult.)
25. Would you prefer to live in a city, the suburbs, the countryside, or the mountains?
>> I’d prefer to live in the Garden District of New Orleans.
26. Give me the story of your life in six words.
>> It is without beginning or end.
27. Would you rather be alone doing something you enjoy, or doing something you don’t like with your best friends?
>> I will always choose to be alone doing something I enjoy. Additionally, anyone who considers themselves a friend of mine would prefer I not do something I don’t enjoy simply for the sake of keeping them company.
28. Tell me something you think would surprise people.
>> As a child, I was deathly afraid of thunderstorms. (My theories on this vary. Either way, my fear completely disappeared without fanfare sometime in adolescence; there is a memory I hold of being 13 and watching a summer storm in North Carolina with avid fascination, and suddenly thinking, Wait, aren’t I supposed to be afraid of this?)
29. Is your current hair colour your natural hair colour?
>> Yes.
30. Why is your favourite band your favourite?
>> My favourites are my favourites because they express things I keenly recognise and often do not have words for.
31. Name something that you miss.
>> Her.
32. Share five goals that you want completed in the next thirty days.
>> Um... I’d like to finish at least two more Loremaster sub-achievements on WoW, get my Norn up to at least lvl50 on GW2, watch the rest of Queen Sugar, finally nut up and watch Moonlight, and get my end of the Reddit/SyFy Gift Exchange done.
33. What do you do when you can’t sleep?
>> Read, usually. Or watch some episodes of an Adult Swim show (or something equally low-commitment).
34. If you were told you were going to have three daughters, what would you want to name them?
>> Whatever names come to me when I am holding them, or whatever names Sparrow wants to give them. What I hate is that you have to name them then and there -- I prefer the ritual of naming to be closer to toddlerhood.
35. How do you feel when someone says something mean/disrespectful towards your favourite band/musician?
>> I don’t feel anything, usually. Being a Creed fan as a teenager has given me a blessedly thick skin towards that sort of thing, trust me.
36. What’s the funniest film you’ve ever seen?
>> I really liked Life (the Eddie Murphy and Martin Lawrence flick), Caddyshack (it’s so fucking weird in that older-film sort of way but I lost my shit at so many scenes that I have to give it its due), and The Secret Life of Pets (I guess I’m the perfect demographic for that kind of ridiculousness). Oh, and Kung Fu Hustle. I know there are a few others but I forget them now. Comedy movies that really amuse me are almost harder for me to find than horror movies that don’t make me roll my eyes out of my head.
37. What’s your favourite children’s TV show/movie?
>> My favourite children’s movies are The Pagemaster and The Prince of Egypt. The Neverending Story gets honourable mention just for being so damn iconic. My favourite children’s programming is The Amazing World of Gumball, Steven Universe, and some stuff I’m probably forgetting but trying to dig around in the pile of countless forms of media I’ve consumed over time in order to answer these questions is really not how I want to spend my night.
38. What do you do when you can’t sleep and you don’t have your phone?
>> Why wouldn’t I have my phone, though...? I guess I’d get up and do something else.
39. What is your purpose in life?
>> Whatever it is, I assume I’m fulfilling it.
40. What’s one thing you cannot live without?
>> Aside from the “duh” answers, I will say mental stimulation and variety. I couldn’t live in solitary confinement with absolutely nothing to do, I’d probably lose it faster than the average (if I don’t figure out a way to kill myself).
41. Put the seven deadly sins in order of the one you commit the most to the least.
>> Superbia, Acedia, Gula, Avaritia, Luxuria, Ira, Invidia.
42. What’s something that’s on your bucket list?
>> Skydiving. Natch.
43. Have you ever been told you look like a famous person? If so, who?
>> The only two famous people I’ve ever been compared to (to my face) are Grace Jones and Harold Perrineau.
44. Can you cook? If so, what are your favourite dishes to make?
>> I can cook well enough not to starve. I haven’t gotten to a point where I enjoy cooking, though. Maybe one day.
45. What was the last decision you regretted making?
>> Meh.
46. Whose opinion of yourself do you value the most?
>> Can Calah’s. Sparrow’s, as far as corporeal human beings are concerned.
47. Anything that makes you angry?
>> There is nothing that is consistently guaranteed to make me angry. I usually experience anger as a cumulative “last straw” kind of thing. Which can make it seem “out of the blue” to others, I realise. But at least it’s infrequent.
48. Age you get mistaken for?
>> Anything from late teens to early twenties, appearance-wise. Online, anything from late teens to... mid thirties, I think.
49. When was the last time you paid for music?
>> I think the last album I bought was The Buttress’ Behind Every Great Man.
50. Night or day?
>> Both, please. And the spaces in between.
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I wrote a short story
The buzz of the city was overpowering, being from the slums originally Adam had a hard time dealing with the noise of the business district outside of the rare occasion he would run a deal for Papa. It suited him all the more, people in the slums didn't have time for as much prejudice as common folk did. And having purple skin, black eyes, and two horns bigger than those on the goats head of a Chimera opened him up for plenty of slurs and attacks from the “Pure-breeds.”
However being here was a necessity albeit an extremely taxing one. If he was going to take on an entire Necropolis he needed first a Cleric that could be bought, and second as much holy water and godly paraphernalia (shiver at the thought) as he could get his hands on. And Vigil was exactly the place to find those, well hopefully.
“A few cold Iron golems wouldn't hurt on second thought.” He muttered to himself as he walked past the plethora of temples and shrines.
“Pharasma won't work. They'll have their hands on their symbols screaming holy obscenities before I can even get the word mummy out, can't do Caiden Cailen I would need 3 barrel's of Ale a day just to keep their short attention spans focused. Perhaps Iomadae?” Then he looked at himself and giggled a little “I'd wake up with my intestines as garters.”
Ugh he thought to himself Why does it have to be undead?! Why cant it just be goblins or even trolls although smelly trolls are rather easy once you show them you can fly on a cloud of fire. And Goblins may be stupid but they're not feral; shrink down so you don't look like a “Longshank” and throw em some meat, you'd have more than enough time to sneak out with whatever you needed. My life couldn't be that easy though could it. Literally the one thing my spells are virtually useless against.
That's it! He thought I go to Irori challenge a cleric he loses in a caster's duel, as he almost objectively could not succeed and then I only have to pay him enough to cover basic wages. He worked his way to the market place and began to sift through his grimoire and choosing which spells to use to humiliate whatever poor “pure-breed” accepted his proposal.
Sitting down near the fountain he tried to focus but kept having his focus broken by the guards yammering In the nearby alley way.
“I'm not lying there are demons crawling all over the piss pen!”
“There is no way demons got into the city without raising some form of alarm or panic that's ridiculous.”
“Look I wouldn't piss on a rock and call it rain, i'm telling you I saw something trash that house and it wasn't human.”
It was then they seemed to notice Adam listening in on their stage whisper conversation.
“What are you looking at black-blood, take your demon eyes elsewhere or ill shove you in the dungeon.”
Adam really did try not to laugh, but sometimes arrogance has it's detriments. “Boys I hate to break it to you but I could erase you from existence before tea time and have your families believing you never existed before dinner.” He stood up and clapped his book shut somehow managing to make even that sound snooty.
He started to walk towards them muttering a few words they surely couldn't understand under his breathe. They began to draw their swords but as they did they herd a firm and distinctly feline voice aggressively meow in their direction. They turned and saw nothing completely missing the small scraggly ball of fur purring below their noses. They turned back just in time to see the fiend step into the air and disappear entirely.
“Damn wizards and their cosmic bullshit.” Egrin mumbled.
“You're just mad because Ellis ran away with that witch doctor.” Rinald chuckled immediately regretting as his face became the new perching spot for Egrins fist.
“Not cool man. You said you wouldn't bring it up anymore.”
Adam chuckled from a nearby rooftop honestly applauding their ability to enjoy simpleton life. If only the gods had blessed with stupidity. He let out a heavy sigh and began to run toward the piss pen, it was notorious for its smell because that particular part of the slums didn't have a water duct system for their waste like the rest of the city forcing them to defecate in select areas of the city. Although most of them were far too hopped up on Bloodbrush to pay attention and mostly just went wherever they had fallen.
The guards didn't go there much because of the smell leaving the area at the mercy whatever thug was the current “Owner” of the territory.
Detestable but unavoidable. Maybe its a good thing I was smart enough to get out. Not the time Adam, if demons are really running through the piss pen it wouldn't take long before people started dying or depending on the circumstance more were lured out into our plane.
Adam smelled his target long before he reached it. He pushed down the desire to turn around and forget all about this nonsense. It was practically a charity for him to look into this at all.
As soon as he hit the small cluster of huts that made up the neighborhood he could see most of the destruction, all of it was peculiarly... small. Not localized to one place but very small. One of the few times perplexed could be used to describe him. Unfortunately for him this was inopportune time to become lost in thought he didn't realize this however until a small crossbow bolt lodged itself firmly into his right shoulder.
“What in the 7 Pantheon is your problem?” he screamed immediately followed by a few arcane words giving life to a eagle in mid air who promptly removed the burden of the crossbow from the citizen. “Get you demon magic out of here fiend!” The small man shouted.
“Oh hush you spoiled cabbage patch.” It was just a local who had been spooked so there was no need for further education, ignorance leads to violence. It wasn't entirely his fault but he did need answers so he proceeded to half his eagle sweep the halfling up and pop him onto the roof next to him before the spell broke.
Popping out a finely crafted wand of his own making Adam spoke the command word healing the crossbow wound and then popping a few charges of the wand into the petite but filthy man next to him. Once he seemed satisfied by the healing the halfling calmed down and stopped his rather amusing attempts at threats.
“I need a rundown of what happened but make it fast and keep to facts. No conjecture or superstition. It wastes time and my small reservoir of patience.”
Struggling to do as Adam asked but giving it a valiant effort Heither tried to recall exactly what he saw and the best he could do, sticking to facts only of course, was to explain that sometime that morning a small hut towards the center of the cluster had begun to smell. More so than usual so a few of the Copper Viper Crew went to take care of it and they claimed to have seen 4 small ape like creatures fly out of the hut spewing fetid clouds from their mouths and destroying everything in their path. Oh also they were about the size of the halfling. Allegedly he added, a light burn to the small creatures pride.
“Do we know who lives in the hut?” Adam interrogated.
“A kid named Kugak and his parents, but they're juiced up most of the time on Ale and Bloodbrush so they aren't usually home.”
“How old is young Kugak?”
“I think he just turned 12? but I cant be sure he usually sticks to himself swiping books and scrolls from stands and libraries to read. I spoke with him once and he mentioned something about becoming a powerful wizard someday.”
“Of course he did. Wheres the hut?”
Leading Adam to the hut Heither couldn't help but be fearful for the kid. Muttering a few arcane words as Adam entered he was followed in by a small pack of wolves that Heither was absolutely positive were not there on their way to the building.
Confirming Heithers suspicion Adam became to speak to the canines. “Sweep the place, find the smell and bring them back here, and you kid get out here that spell isn't going to fool anyone besides those damn Dretches.” As he finished his sentence the wolves seemed to find the scent and dashed out of the room a rod in Adam's hand illuminating.
Simultaneously the wall on the eastern side of the building shimmered and faded as a young boy with green skin and very pronounced Tusks stepped out looking ashamed. “This isn't what I wanted im so sorry!” He stuttered as he broke out into sobs.
“Stop! You made a mess and you need to focus on cleaning it up. Tears are decidedly less necessary when you realize they'll only get you killed.” He grabbed him by the chin and lifted his face up. “Mother or father?”
“What?” The boy asked confused.
“Which one was the orc?” Adam asked looking at his features?
“M-my dad, it was a raid or something mom doesn't talk about it she just kind of drinks a lot.”
“Yeah, that'll happen, anyway what did you do?”
“I don't know I was-” Adam immediately cut him off.
“That's a steaming pile of horse shit, you were smart enough to get 4 demons from the abyss onto this plane you can piece together an idea of what happened.”
“There was a scroll, that this guy gave me. I was trying to ask him about magic because he said he was a wizard and he said I could use it and get enough money to get out of the slums.”
“You believed him?!” Adam asked as he smacked him on the side of the head. “Repeat after me, We do not accept strange magical items from men we don't know.”
“We do not accept strange magical items from men we don't know.” He managed to get out despite his lip getting caught on his fang.
“Good not hold this wand.”
“Ok-”
“NO!” WOP, he smacked him again. “Did you learn nothing?”
“Oh i'm sorry.”
“Dear Lords Child, what is your name?”
At this point Heither spoke up “This is the boy I was telling you-”
“Silence he is an able bodied individual he can speak for himself.” Heither shrank back into the background obviously irritated.
“Uh im uhm Kugak sir.”
“Kugak what?” Adam asked looking at the boy down his spectacles.
“Just uh, Kugak sir.” He said ashamed.
“Seeing the demeanor shift Adam changed the topic, ok where is the binding circle?”
“The what?” Heither and Kugak asked Simultaneously?
“You used a summoning scroll without a binding circle, of course you did,” Adam began to mutter to himself while walking around the building grabbing some small things out of his bag, “then again you weren't ENTIERLY at fault,” shooting Kugak a glance,
“So what are we gonna do?” Heither asked wondering if the Tiefling was all bark or not.
Running through his options Adam looked at the boys again. Seeing a hilt on Heither's side he asked him “How good are you with that sword?”
“I'm the best halfling in my clergy?” He said tentatively.
“Well that's not the worst thing i've heard today, whats it made out of?”
“Cold Iron I believe.” He pulled the blade out and swung it a few times, letting it whistle as it cut the air. “I've never actually checked, because I haven't actually used it before....”
“Oh heavens.” Adam thought to himself, he just might become religious if the day continued on much longer.
“You, do you know how to use a wand?” Looking at Kugak.
“You point and you say the right word, basically right?” Kugak asked.
“Good job kid, take this” He handed it to Kugak. However The child stared back tentatively.
“You said I wasn't supp-” Adam groaned hearing this.
“That's correct, hello my name is Adam and now we're best friends so take this and do as I say.” This time Kugak apprehensively took the small piece of wood from him. “Now point at that bottle and say firmly but respectfully, SMAAZ!”
The wand sparked to life in his hand, three quick red bolts flew out destroying the bottle. Kugak excitedly began to jump up and down. “I did it! I did something right!”
Had Adam not heard the wolves in the distance he would have allowed to boy the small triumph but this needed to be done shortly before the guard arrived.
“Ok listen, the spell that is chasing the dretches toward us is about to fail when we head out there Heither you and Kugak need to focus your attacks on one at a time. Its the fastest way to dispose of them effectively without a binding circle we'll have to dispose of them the old fashion way. The bolts will not miss as long as you stay focused on a single target. I will keep the rest as busy as I can while you focus them. Are you ready you pint sized little churls?”
Heither spoke up, “I mean no not really.” he was calming the tremors in his hands. “I'm assuming there isn't much of a choice in the matter since a demon is telling me what to do.”
“Watch it hopper.” He narrowed his eyes, Heither’s response to the slur was to also narrow his.
Feeling his spell fade he walked out into the slums the two small ones trailing behind him. Remember what I said and you probably won’t die. They stood in a line watching as not 4 but 7 small beasts with hairless ape like bodies came crashing to a stop about 30 feet in front of them. They began to raise themselves off of the ground focusing onto Adam and his compatriots. Clouds of yellow fetid air seeping out of their snarls as their lips curled over their broken and discolored teeth. Adam thought for a moment that maybe he should send the others back inside, the beasts claws were far more intimidating than he remembered. The patchy hair at least would give the boys the notion that they were unarmored. Seeing the trepidation in them Adam began to speak.
“Lesson 1, Dretches are entirely immune to electricity and poison and resistant to most other forms of attacks like most demons from the abyss. Therefore Stab and my shoot pint sized princes” He then flipped his book open and thumbed through some pages and the dretches zeroed in on the three of him. “Aha, I knew it was in here, sruzmy vorv wzrilqdy, oudzm,” As he finished the words he looked up from the page and watched as his spell took form. Below the creatures Red tentacles began to lift from the ground and wrap themselves around the beasts catching many but not all. “You know its quite satisfying using a spell you made yourself, im going to stand here and appreciate my handy work while you two do, WHAT I TOLD YOU TOO!”
Adams raised voice caused the others to spring to life, the Halfling sped forth launching himself into the nearest freed beast opting for a whirlwind of small attacks and enough agility to avoid most of the feral swipes instead of a frontal “Stand your ground”-esque strategy. as Kugak shouted with maybe a little too much gusto “SMAAZ.” Watching with glee as the targets found their mark right as Heither sunk his blade into the beast causing it to go limp. Two more immediately replaced it but Adam felt as though they could handle them just fine, if not he could always patch them up after. Pulling his crossbow out of his belt he wove another spell and watched as two large, maybe a little too large, snakes wove into creation. He would definitely have to look into the spell later to make sure it was cast properly.
Hearing a cacophony of command words and cackling from the two beasts attacking Heither he was surprised to see the green halfing moving with astonishing grace. Avoiding almost every attack without a mistep. Almost like the thieves he had seen in Cheliax. He watched as two of his snakes began to squeeze the life out of some the beasts he had snagged with his initial spell and aimed Tanglevine, his exquisitely crafted crossbow, at one of the ones desperately fighting with the tentacle prison he was in. He zoned in and let loose an enchanted bolt, hearing the magic sizzle as it made impact was always so satisfying. Watching the creature phase into another plane was just as sweet. Reloading he noticed that the other two were still dealing with their share of the problem.
Wanting to be annoyed at the delay he decided to focus on his task and let another bolt loose sending another one presumably into one of the elemental planes. That would be ideal anyway. Regardless he didn't care as long as they were out of the Piss-Pen before the Guards could be bothered to come help the poor folk. Finishing the other two he was strangely satisfied to see that the boys had completed their objective.
Releasing his spell in time to see the guard headed that direction he shouted out, “Hey you two over here now.” Grabbing both their hands he quickly muttered a few words and they were immediately in another part of town. “So, that went much better than expected, I was fully anticipating at least one lost limb.”
“Where are we?” Heither said looking around aggressively.
“Somewhere in Vigil i'm just not sure where.”
“We're near all the bars, we're still pretty close to the piss pen.” Kugak said head down again.
“How do you know that?” Adam inquired.
“Thats the tavern my mom gets drunk in.” He said pointing to a small building with a sign that said The Cornfed Maiden.
“Classy.” Adam said under his breathe. “Come with me.” He took Kugak by the hand and walked toward the tavern.
“No wait I don’t want to go in there, she doesn't like to see me.” He said digging his feet into the ground.
“Hmm well,” Adam fished around in his bag for a moment. “This bag has 50 Gold pieces in it, you have two options. You take it in there and hand it to your mother and tell her that a Wizard of great power has agreed to train you but you will be leaving and most likely not returning for years if not ever and that gold is for the cost of purchasing her son. In which case I will see you at the town gate at sundown. Or you take this Gold and do whatever you want with it and I never see you again. The choice is yours and I hope you make a decision that you do not regret.” With that Adam turned around magically shifting his clothes into a hood and robes.
He got about fifty feet away before a small Heither runs up to him. “What was that? You can't just spring something like that on a kid and walk away like it's no big deal! You really are a demon.”
“You are incorrect on both accounts, first I am only partly demon, or rather tainted by demonic blood. Secondly,” and he stopped to look at the Halfling, “I absolutely can do this. I was born and raised in slums and I fought tooth and nail to get out. That child obviously has the potential to become something. Maybe not a Wizard but something. His mother doesn't care about him proven by the complete abandon that led to him literally opening a hole to the abyss into the middle of Vigil. If he comes with me I will teach him and train him and he will have the skills to do anything he wants in life instead of living in a literal pile of piss and shit waiting for the dysentery to set in. Now if you'll kindly excuse me I have to go find a Cleric willing to travel with a Tiefling.”
As he started to walk away Heither kept pace and asked “Wait why do you need a cleric, you obviously can handle yourself without any help? Also why did you ask for help you didn't need.”
“I didn't need it, but the boy did. The best way to deal with guilt is to actively do something to combat the wrong you did so I gave him that option. I asked you to help so I didn't have to hover over him and make him feel like he didn’t help.” He didn't want to mention that his motivations were also to see how well the halfling could handle himself in combat. “Speaking of, I forgot to get my damn wand back from him.”
“That's actually kind of … well kind.” Heither said astonished.
“Of course it is, everything I do is well thought out and flawless.”
“You are also incredibly humble.” Heither muttered with heavy sarcasm.
“Humility isn't needed when you can shape the fabric of reality with a few words.” Adam retorted.
“I disagree pretty heavily but back on previous points, why do you need a cleric?” Heither retorted.
“Why are you asking?” Adam said stopping, trying to not let satisfaction hit him before it was appropriate.
“Because I may know of one interested.”
“I need to hire one to accompany me into a Necropolis to recover an artifact I need.”
“Necropolis?”
“A city overflowing with undead creatures and energies.”
“And you just expect a Clergy member to fawn over your prowess and fall head over heels in love with your quest.”
Continuing to walk Adam replied “I'm no fool, I intend to pay them as well as make a heavy donation to the church of their choosing out of the loot pulled in the Necropolis.”
“What if I told you I recently finished my magical training and was interested in accompanying you if for no other reason than to make sure you feed the kid regularly.”
“I would say that these were a very fortunate series of events for me.” His hood hiding his smug facial expression.
“And how do you know Kugak is going to be at the gate at Dusk?”
“Because I could smell the ambition on him, partner. So go get your stuff together, leave this as a donation so your church doesn't get a belly ache and- You don't worship Pharasma, Iomadae, or Caiden Cailen? Do you?”
“Sarenrae actually.... Why?
“Oh no reason” Adam looked at the Halfling suddenly excited for the first time in a long time to be traveling with someone and said as he flapped his robes to the side spinning almost too dramatically. “See you at dusk!”
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15 Welcome *ome, Anna
The shuttle clunked on the ground, and out stepped Anna, Princess Anna. Ugh,... I think I've created a monster in my own mind. She was wearing the same white dress as that first day. A wide strap sleeveless affair in cotton. I vaguely remember seeing her in it from some past memory, ah yes, it's from a story I wrote. She was in the Mediterranean on a trip........
She held out her arms as she approached me, almost as if she was displaying her new arm. We wrapped each other up, and kissed for what seemed like forever. Then something happened that I had totally forgot about, Rain Day. Yep, it rained on a schedule here. The clouds weren't heavy enough for any real precipitation, so they pumped water thru a gazillion nozzles to make it rain in the Habitat.
So there we were, recreating the end of Breakfast at Tiffany's. All we needed was Cat. I just didn't care, it wasn't that cold, and I couldn't move, for fear of spoiling the moment. Even with all the time in the world, I kept having this gnawing feeling that it would all get ripped away at any time. She'd be gone, the Habitat would disappear, and my flabby old carcass would come back, like Cinderella at midnight. But that's what life is, it doesn't last forever, and you have to make the most of it. Even though I would turn out to be one of the oldest humans ever to live. At the time, it just didn't seem like enough.
_________________________________________________________
As we walked back to the house she seen it, and started giggling in the cutest way possible. I had made a sign just like the one in Frozen Fever and hung it in the trees, 'cept this one said; 'Welcome Home Anna'. I had specified to Olaf several days ago I wanted water color paint and a brush on paper to recreate what Kristoff had done. Now that it was raining the paint was running down the paper, making it a complete mess, as the 'H' fell to the ground.
"Well, I bet the stuff inside the house survived."
"I still love it." Then she kissed me on the cheek.
Inside the house it was wall to wall flowers, Minoo gave me a hand with this yesterday. I'm glad Abzari turned her loose with me, I needed the help, and it was a sign that he was letting go of the past, this would have never occurred on Earth. She is very attractive, but my days of chasing tail were decades behind me, and all I can see is Anna in my life now. I'm so glad I can look at a woman like Minoo, and see only beauty, instead of desire.
"Oh my God, they're sooo beautiful!, she walked up to every arrangement to give it a sniff.
"We should probably get into some dry clothes."
"Stellar idea." She went to the replicator and got something comfortable. As she started up the steps, she gave me a long look. I knew what it was, this where I would help her.
"Go ahead, I'll get dressed in the Cave." She slowly turned and walked up the stairs. It's amazing to me how these little things that come in and out of our lives can have such a profound effect. But every Sun-day I would button her buttons, or put on and tie her shoes, and she would smile. It would be our tiny little ritual. And this one was pretty harmless.
So we had dinner, and I finally noticed it, she had a perfectly circular scar around her shoulder. They cut off the remains of her arm and popped in the new one at the socket. Probably trimming off the excess like a vinyl record fresh out of the stamper. She seen me starring at it.
"Pretty ugly scar, eh?"
"I honestly don't care. you're in one piece, and you have your independence back, that is all that matters. You are just as beautiful as the day I met you."
"Still, I wouldn't mind doing a cover-up. Whatcha' think, flowers, Celtic, or maybe a dragon?"
"And ruin your beautiful freckles?" She gave me a puzzled look.
"You think my freckles are beautiful?"
"Of course, do you think you'd have them if I didn't?" It took her a second to realize what I was saying.
"Oh, yea."
"Anna, your beauty lies in these tiny little flaws." I started to touch them. "I never subscribed to the typical beauty that so many American males were attracted to, I'm sure you've noticed your breasts aren't gigantic, right? I think they're actually a touch smaller than in the movie."
"Wait, WHAT?"
"As it turned out, you were kinda' built to specs, and I'm into the dancers body, the Gamine. They obviously seen this and made you this way. You are my ultimate beauty, and anything you do to degrade that is going to sadden me, but I must be fair. Even if they created the image I wanted, it's your body, and you can do what you want. Just know the scar doesn't bother me, and if it bothers you, then fix it. I don't want to ever reduce your happiness."
"When I first met you, you were scared of me, and I thought it was a mistake to love you. I will never believe that again." More hugs, more kisses, more love. She understood what I meant, and she would never feel the touch of the artist's needle. She respected my thoughts, the one's I had while I lied in stasis, waiting for my fountain of youth, dreaming of twirling in the ballroom with the strawberry blonde princess.
_________________________________________________________
I got a hold of the Doc and had him come by to give Anna a thorough going over, and I mean thorough. He was a little nervous about this, as we were trying to be friends, and the idea of seeing all of her before I did concerned him.
"It's OK, Doc. I really don't have a problem with this. Besides, if her vagina has razor sharp teeth in it, I'd rather you lose some fingers vs. my junk."
"Very funny, Michael. But I suspect that wouldn't be the case."
"Either way, we need to know what's going on here, and any clue is a good clue. I for one am sick of all this secrecy."
"Very well, shall we proceed?"
"Anna, can you come upstairs please?, the Doc is ready for you." She came up the stairs with light, unsure steps. While she said she was OK with this, she may be having second thoughts.
"It'll be OK, Anna. He's done this many times before." Which was an absolute lie, he's never examined an alien before.
"OK, Anna remove all your clothes and lie on the bed."
"That is my cue to go downstairs, make sure you buy her dinner first!"
"Good one, Michael, thanks for being so helpful, while I'm so nervous." I knew I'd be in for it later.
After a while I heard the snap of the glove. Then I heard Anna give a loud 'RAHHHH!' as the Doc immediately gasped. I was rolling on the floor at that point. I wonder if she heard the razor sharp teeth bit. Doc came down the steps first, while Anna got dressed, he was still breathing a little heavy.
"Well one things for sure, she has my sense of humor, you OK Doc?"
"I've been better. Can we talk privately?"
"This way, Doc." I took him to the cave.
"Other than her strange facial appearance, unusual skull shape, and somewhat disproportionately small feet she seems perfectly normal." He paused for a moment, this is never good.
"Her birth canal does seem somewhat larger than I'd expect for a virgin. She is a virgin, right?"
"As far as I know, I don't know if someone took 'er for a test drive before I got her."
"You seem rather flippant about that, Michael."
"I've never had a taste for virginity, they usually don't know what they're doing. But she has my memories in there, so I think she'll be well versed in that department."
I suspected the birth canal thing, that's the reason for my own personal upgrade, parts with a matching fit, plus birthing would be easier. A desirable trait when you want to make as many babies as possible. This has been the curse of women for ever. Hopefully we'll help to breed that awful trait out, it seems so illogical to me that creatures of nature have little trouble giving birth, while human females try to squeeze a bowling ball thru a garden hose. But the clue that provided was the scariest of them all.
When we got to the new world, we would be on our own. The technology would leave with the Masters. We are currently ill prepared for a life without technology. Somebody will have to have a plan.
There are some other possibilities here. We're both big headed people. Those big eyes need a big skull to fit into, and would need a larger passage to fit through. Or is a bigger passage needed for some hideous monster to make it's way thru? I keep having images of a Xenomorph ripping it's way thru her belly just before it consumes us both. I really hope the Masters reveal themselves before we start having children.
"Still, she's quite healthy, you said they wanted to have her wait a few weeks before she uses her arm fully?"
"Yea, that's the message I got from Olaf. I'm not taking any chances with her, I'd hate for her new arm to pop out."
"The speed at which that graft healed is amazing, I hope they share that technology with us some day."
"Me too, Doc. But we should assume that once we reach the home world, we're on our own."
"Agreed,... OK Michael, I'm on my way home, It has been a pleasure, although Anna could use some restraint, I nearly broke my fingers."
"Sorry about that Doc, there's still some child in there."
"Tell me about it,... good day, and peace be with you."
"See ya, Doc. And thanks again."
Hmmm, no surprises here, and only one ominous clue. It was time to meet with the other Hybrides and whatever name the Earthling women came up with for their men. I'm really not looking forward to this.
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