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that-one-anxious-mango · 1 year

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Summary : What happens when all the secrets start to tumble out and the truth about many things starts to unravel...including people.

Contents: BIG OLE JUICY ANGST. I mean this is what some of you all wanted. But caution this installment includes the following: DRAMA! Allusions to and discussions of abortion. Arguing between friends. Accusations. Tension. Allusions to rough childhood upbringing. Hospital setting. Cursing. Protective/Anger Austin!

Please read with caution.

A/N: Hello Beautiful Humans! I hope you're all well. Here it is. The Second installment. I hope you enjoy it. Just a reminder next installment (3) will be the finale. Thanks so much for the love and reading!

P.S Feel Free to comment and send me letters about thoughts, feelings, or anything else! And also comment if you'd like to be added to the taglist.

Much love *hugs*

Taglist: @wacoshuffle, @purejasmine

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“ And do you remember what it was like when you stepped into the studio for the first time to work with Baz and the crew? What that moment was like when you realized what you were about to fully do? " The interviewer asked Austin.

Austin nodded offering a somber smile as he tried to grasp his words, " Of course. Yeah..it was..ummm..."

He'd been asked this question before probably fifty thousand times and usually answered it with ease, but today the thoughts weren't coming together.

Instead his mind was somewhere else, his mind was with you.

All night long last night Austin had tossed and turned thinking about not having you in his arms, and the look of hurt replaying in his brain over and over. He wanted nothing more than to get up and go down the hall to your bedroom to scoop you up and love on you until you let him fix all your problems.

But knew he couldn't because he needed the boundary.

He needed you to know he was serious.

For the rest of the interview he politely muddled through it while giving his best efforts and little attention.

Once they wrapped he thanked the interviewer and staff before making his way off the soundstage.

As he approached his awaiting team, Austin couldn't help but notice the grave looks on their faces they were doing their best to try and hide.

Kate, his publicist looked extremely antsy and nervous, while James, his agent stood beside her with a monotone expression holding Austin's cellphone.

" What's going on? " He asked looking between them. " Aus. You need to take this." His agent stuck his hand out with the phone.

Immediately Austin could feel his heart sink to the floor and anguish walk over him.

" Is everything alright? " He asked hoping to God nothing serious had occurred. " Who is this? "

" Can't say. Just take the phone." The man beckoned.

Skeptically accepting the device, he pressed it to his ear and took a deep breath before speaking, " Hello? "

As soon as he heard the voice on the other end his scrunched in uneasiness, " Grace? Whoa--Hey! What's the matter? "He tried listening to your sister go on a mile a minute until he stopped her dead in her tracks when she revealed your whereabouts.

" SHE WHAT? "

———-

Upon arrival to the hospital you'd been admitted to the OB fifth floor and Alana had made the rounds calling everyone she could think important to call, which included Alex, Phoebe, Beatrice, and your co-worker, Tia, who she knew you were good friends with.

She left the family calling to Grace whom she'd talked to on the ambulance ride.

Phoebe then called your uncle in Texas, uncle in London, and grandmother who was traveling in her retirement.

But amongst those calls Alana made, still Austin's name wasn't included. When Grace asked if Austin had been called Alana told her that in the ' heat of the moment ' she'd forgotten.

Grace then volunteered to do it leaving Alana's hands clean.

After they all were informed Phoebe was the first to show with her kid sister, Sprite, in tow who was visiting for the week on a school break.

Soon after followed Alex who came in looking distraught as she had just fought her way through bounds of LA traffic to get there as fast as she could have from set.

And Beatrice also came in with her husband, Santiago, as they both apologized for the wait citing how they would have been there sooner but had to frantically find a sitter to take their youngest who was out of school.

Avery had also called Alana and let her know that she'd been caught in afternoon traffic on the freeway and would get there as soon as possible.

All together asking a thousand and one questions, they hadn't been the least bit calm until one of the nurses had come over to assure the group that while you were stable, none of them would be allowed to see you until the doctor okayed it.

Calling Grace back when a nurse questioned who was the physical next of kin, it was revealed that she had already been in contact with the hospital staff and the person who was granted power of physical next of kin, was Phoebe.

Eagerly waiting to get a update they all sat praying and hoping for your well being until the doctor would come to notify them with a update.

Fifteen minutes later...

They could hear him before they seen him, Austin had practically came barreling into the open area of the fifth floor OBGYN sector with members of his team behind him.

He looked completely disheveled with his shirt wrinkled, suit jacket half off, hair moussed like he'd been running his fingers through it every five seconds, and his face were wide and extremely alert as they zipped from place to place in panic.

He went first to the nurses' station to try and gather information, although everything he said came out fast and jumbled.

But while he still looked around in a fearful daze, he then spotted the group nearby and by passed the check in nurse at the desk, to charge toward them and immediately go into question.

" What the hell happened? How is she? Where is she? I-is she okay? " Austin moved to try and walk down the hall toward the rooms determined to search each one until he found you, but was stopped gently by Phoebe's hand.

" Aus wait. It's the room three doors down, but we can't go in there right now. The doctor just went in and they're running some tests. We don't know much because they wouldn't tell us really but what we do know is she is stable so they say." She looking at him empathetically.

Austin just shook his head not understanding, " What do you mean ' so they say ' ? And why wasn't I called AS SOON as this happened? Who was all there with her? " She just collapsed? " He threw out looking around at the group.

Before anyone could answer him, their heads whirled around at the sound of the room door opening and closing.

Seconds later they could see a nurse exit followed by a doctor who began walking over to the group, " Is this the family of Y/N L/N? " She asked when she stood in-front of them.

A multitude of keen yeses could be heard, " Wonderful, now if there anyone here that is next of kin, or a supp-"

" She's my wife." Austin cut her off. Nodding the doctor was about to continue but heard a voice speak.

" He's the fiancée. And Phoebe is technically the appointed next of kin as we've been made aware." Alana could be heard correcting from the back.

All turning to look at her, some in disbelief and others in distain, still the doctor continued, " Well I can say she is still stable. But I can only go into detail with whoever is appointed next of kin and I also can only allow this person in the room for visitation right now." She informed.

" Austin should see her first." Phoebe spoke up, " He's her fiancée and her family, so I consent to him going in the room but once you're done all I ask is for you to come update us as well. We're her family too. " She decided giving the go head.

Turning his gaze to Phoebe who nodded in encouragement, Austin in return mouthed a 'thank you' and then brought his attention back to the doctor.

" Hi I'm Dr. Mackenzie Floyd, I'm the head of the OBYGN department here at Emory Moss. " The doctor informed reaching out to shake hands with Austin who in return offered his extremely clammy and shaking hand.

" I'm Austin. The husband." Austin introduced himself while making sure to put a extra emphasis on his last words so Alana could hear.

" Nice to meet you. I'm sure you're eager for an update on your wife and would like to see her, so why don't you follow me. " Floyd motioned.

The two them set off to your room leaving behind the group who'd begun to chatter.

When inside, as soon as he saw you lying there, all the air in his lungs seemed to leave all at once and his hands began to feel ice cold against themselves.

You looked like you were sleeping.

Finally relaxed and not so uptight and tired like you'd been.

And while he was glad you were resting, he still couldn't shake the aching need to want to see your eyes pour into his.

" So just give it to me, doc. How's she doing? " Austin asked still not taking his eyes off you.

With a sigh Dr. Floyd began, " Well Mr. Butler it seems that your wife's collapse was the result of a significant drop in her blood sugar and pressure. When she came in her vitals showed that she was a tad bit under nourished for our liking so we've put her on a standard saline trip as well as fluids. Her weight is also lower than the standard at this stage so that's something else we'd like to work on. We suspect she hasn't been eating or hydrating the way she should. " She revealed.

" Overall she also seems to be quite tired. Has she been sleeping at night at all?" Dr. Floyd asked.

Austin thought back to the late nights in your office you'd been pulling and the tossing and turning he could feel come from you during the night.

" As of recently, not much. Usually she is a stickler about her sleep and tries to get a strict nine hours a night. But that hasn't been the case as of late." Austin confirmed. Dr. Floyd, " I understand. That's not unusual though at this stage. Many women experience some form of insomnia early on and it can be an adjustment. But just to be safe we'll give you guys some options of what you can do at home to combat this." She finished taking down some notes.

Austin nodded still not fully understanding what she was getting at.

This stage? Early on?

Still he was trying to wait until he felt she was finished to ask questions.

" But on a happier note, we've a extensive amount of tests and the baby's vitals are strong. Placenta looks healthy. There's thankfully no signs of trauma or malnourishment. They seem to be hitting all their markers right on schedule." Dr. Floyd informed knocking the wind out of Austin.

Hold on.

Baby? What BABY?

Grace on the phone nor anyone else hadn't mentioned anything about a baby. So what was truly going on here.

" I'm sorry Dr. Floyd. " Austin put his hand over his duly aching head as he tried to process the information that had just so casually been given to him, " Forgive me, but did you say a b-baby? As in my wife is pregnant? "

Dr. Floyd cautiously motioned for a nurse via the window to step into the room to check on Austin who'd gone a bit stiff as a board.

She carefully went on, " Why yes, Mr. Butler. Your wife is in fact nine weeks pregnant. My apologies I thought you knew. One of the friends disclosed the information to EMTs in the ambulance on the way here."

At the sound of her last sentence like a switch had been hit, Austin's head snapped up and he became all too alert now with a twisted expression of fury and chariness being displayed.

It was like he could feel his entire body be stricken tense as he forced himself to ask, " Do you by chance know which one of them that would be? "

—- When Austin entered the new private waiting room the group had been moved to, they had all been too quick to jump up and toward him to form an unintentional circle around the man.

As he looked around at his fiancée's friends he was doing his best to keep his composure.

Never had he ever had any real problems with these people, he knew how much your friends meant to you so ever since they'd all been introduced he'd done his best to at least get to know them all and be cordial. Go to parties, be polite at hangouts, bite his tongue on occasion.

And sure him and Alana had had a couple of tiffs here and there, but nothing the two hadn't been able to uncomfortably fake a laugh about and keep their distance after.

So that's why it was mind boggling to him that after hearing from the doctor herself that Alana knew about your pregnancy this whole time, it was shocking that she'd stooped so low to make the decisions she'd had of keeping it a secret and icing him out.

Breaking Austin's thought process Alex was the first to speak up, " Well..how is she? Is she okay? Lord knows we've been praying." The look she carried was one of pure concern, like her face wouldn't physically be able to rest until she heard the news.

Looking around he could see that her sentiments were shared as everyone also looked on anxiously wanting to hear, " She's okay." Austin spoke followed by a harmony of sighs and deep breaths released , " Doctor said that she'll be on bed rest for the next couple days since they want her to replenish her energy with sleep and meals. She was dehydrated and tired. Thank god she didn't get to hit her head. I'll have to just watch her closely is all at home, but she'll be okay." He explained taking in the relieved facial expressions of everyone, everyone but Alana who instead held a hard look to herself while the two participated in a unsanctioned staring contest.

Austin knew he should have taken the high road and privately addressed the woman, and any other time he truly would have.

Ya' know, acted like the gentlemen his parents raised him to be.

But alas something dark and petty took over him when he seen the look on Alana's face. Anger and resentment pooled through his being. These feelings prompted his next choice, " And as for the baby.." Austin purposefully dragged out.

As if everyone had suddenly been cast in a stop motion picture, all movement ceased and heads all snapped in his direction at a eerily slow pace. Faces of shock and confusion were everywhere.

Beatrice's knees seemed to buck underneath her and Santiago with the help of Phoebe ushered the startled woman into a seat. While Alex looked on rapidly blinking like she'd been punked.

Alex's voice rose above the silence, " Austin. What do you mean as for the baby. Are you trying to tell us that, Y/N. I-is pregnant? "

He ran a hand across his mouth as he could feel himself getting upset, " She indeed is. She's about nine weeks along. Baby is healthy though, thank god." He confirmed, voice still hard. "

In shock Beatrice shook her head not being able to wrap her mind around what was occurring as everyone did the same, " No. no. no. That can't be, right. Austin that can't be right. I mean we would know. She would have told us. Are you sure?" She tried reasoning looking all around the room.

Austin nodded. From their reactions he knew that Alex, Phoebe, and Beatrice couldn't have know. As a actor he also recognized their reactions were too raw. And if Bea didn't know Santiago surely didn't, plus Sprite was only a kid who didn't even live here which knocked her off the board of thought about who knew.

" Well, Bea. That's the same thing I thought until the words came out the doctor's mouth herself. Only thing is she didn't find out from any of the tests. She said that one of Y/N's friends informed the paramedics that she was pregnant in the ambulance." He revealed.

Puzzlement spread across the room on every face but one.

Immediately Phoebe who'd been quiet while trying to process spoke up, " Well that can't be true because none of us knew." She looked around the room at all of her friends hoping that not a soul had kept something like this to themselves. " Right, ya'll? "

" No it is true." He started, " Isn't it Alana." Austin spoke turning his attention to the woman who'd been quiet the entire encounter. To him she'd always had this holier than most attitude about her, but right now she wouldn't get that right with him.

And it rang true, as she held a look of complete casualness to her face. " You were one that told the EMTs that Y/N was pregnant aren't you? I mean it couldn't have been Avery because before I came in here I ran into her. She didn't know anything and she wasn't in the ambulance. In fact she was shocked. Even though she tried to follow the ambulance she got caught in traffic on the way here. After we spoke I told her she could go home and I'd keep her updated. "He revealed.

All eyes were on Alana now, six pairs keen on her.

But still she wasn't going to let anyone see her sweat. Instead she just keep her cool. " I was." She simply stated.

" Lana you knew? " Beatrice's eyes bucked thinking about how a few days ago she'd sat through a whole dinner with Alana and she hadn't said a word. " And you didn't think to say anything?"

" Yes, Beatrice I knew. I was there when she took the test." She stated matter of factly.

A bitter chuckle emerged from Austin, " Of course you were. Isn't that rich." He continued laughing and clapping to himself, taking a seat while everyone looked on in bewilderment.

" Alana when the fuck was this? " Alex questioned flabbergasted and needing to know how long had this been going on. How long had they all been kept in the dark.

Groaning she started, " About three weeks ago when I came to drop off the final details for the Pace book-tour to her/ She'd opened the door and looked like she'd been crying. I mean a downright mess. " She recalled.

" After practically prying it out of her she confessed to me that she'd been upstairs in the bathroom trying to build the nerve to take some pregnancy tests. Said she hadn't been feeling well and that Aunt Flo had been MIA. After she calmed down I offered to stay with her while she took them and the whole time we waited all she did was worry and cry about how scared she was about the whole thing and how this hadn't been in the plans yet." She explained.

Austin recognized the day she was talking about. He'd been out reading some material for Masters of Air and when he'd gotten home that night you'd already been in bed asleep, and weirdly enough it was also the night that you stop letting him hold you.

" After all the tests came back brightly positive I could barely get her to stop panicking. It was horrible. It took about a hour before she partially stopped. She made me promise on my life I wouldn't tell anyone. She felt like she didn't wanna ' inconvenience those around her ' is what she said. From there she worried about what she should do, and I let her know that she had a number of different possibilities to explore. The end." She concluded folding her arms against her chest.

" So that's it. You just agreed with it and encouraged her to go through it all alone." Phoebe scoffed, " Knowing that I- we would have all wanted to be there for her." She corrected herself quickly knowing her emotions were ab out to get the best of her.

" It was her choice, Phoebe. And she wasn't alone. I helped and talked to her often enough. All she ever did was worry about the type of mother she would be and how she was going to raise a child at this point in her life. I did all I could to console her." Alana challenged.

" And how much of it was actually comfort and encouragement rather than added confusion." Alex icily shot out.

" Hey! I encouraged her to do what was best for her. I encouraged her to explore all her options without the interference from others ." Alana seethed.

" Wait? What do you mean encouraged her to explore all her options? What options? " Austin questioned standing up from his seat. His face was stone cold. " What does that mean? "

Again all eyes shifted to Alana.

Still unwavering Alana repeated, " Like I said. I encouraged her to explore all her options. She needed to know that her life didn't have to change if she didn't want it to. Especially if it's not something she really wanted it. I mean why should she have to put a possible end to her career and fall behind in life for something she wasn't a hundred percent sure she wanted. At one point she asked my opinion and I told what I thought would be best. " She shrugged still maintaining her eye contact with Austin.

" Which was? " Alex beckoned her on. " What did you say? "

It was no secret that Alana had no desire to have children whatsoever. In fact the only children she truly tolerated was her friends.

Her most famous line was, " I detest anything that crawls. Bugs, most animals, and most of all, children. Wastes of time and resources."

She believed parenthood was obsolete task.

Tearily looking to the ceiling in distress Beatrice said, " Alana you don't mean you had her consider..." She brought her eyes to search Alana's face for her to dispel what she thought may be true.

But still Alana remained silent. And the silence was almost deafening.

" Alana...look me in my face and tell me you didn't try and tell her that having an abortion was her real best option...say you didn't do that without getting her the proper mental help she needed to make a decision like that.. say it isn't true." Phoebe interrogated with the rest of the weighing silence of the room.

Locking eyes with a teary eyed Phoebe, Alana figured with her being Y/N's best friend and all. She was the only one she felt needed a explanation.

" Yeah I did. It's her body so she should have taken in to account all her choices across the board. Plus she wasn't sure she wanted to be mother. Why go through nine months of uncertainty. Why take such a huge gamble." She confirmed.

At the confession the whole room feel into a chorus of reactions.

Santiago comforted a now crying Beatrice. Phoebe took her leave of absence since she could feel herself getting to a point of unreasonable anger. And Austin had begun slowly pacing the corner of the room while doing his best to piece together what he just heard.

" Oh my god." Alex whispered moving across to the other side of the room. " Oh my god. " She spoke louder. " OH MY GOD." She yelled before turning to Alana. " HOW COULD YOU DO THAT TO HER. HOW COULD YOU PROJECT YOUR OWN SHIT ON HER LIKE. THAT." She yelled.

Face twisting in offence she returned the energy, " IT'S HER BODY AND IT'S HER CHOICE." Alana shouted.

" OF FUCKING COURSE IT IS. IT'LL ALWAYS BE HER CHOICE. BUT SHE ALSO WASN'T OBVIOUSLY IN THE RIGHT STATE OF MIND TO TRY AND BE MAKING DECSISIONS LIKE THAT WITHOUT SOME FORM OF HELP OR GUIDANCE. GUIDANCE YOUR BIAS ASS WASN'T GIVING HER! WHY WOULDN'T YOU TELL US SO WE COULD HAVE HELPED?" Alex questioned.

" I WAS GUIDING HER." ALANA screamed, " GUIDING HER TO SEE HER FULL POTENTIAL! YOU SHOULD HAVE SEEN HOW TORE UP SHE WAS. HOW SCARED AND MEEK SHE LOOKED. SHE DIDN'T WANNA TELL ANYONE ELSE. WHAT WAS I SUPPOSE TO DO. IT WAS A SECRET."

" YEAH BUT YOU OUT OF ALL OF US SHOULD VERY WELL KNOW HOW SOMETIMES IN A FRIENDSHIP, THE WELL BEING OF THE OTHER PERSON TRUMPS KEEPING A FUCKING SECERT. AND HOW DO YOU KNOW THIS BABY ISN'T HER DREAM! " Alex shot back.

" I KNOW THAT BEING JUNIOR EDITOR IS ONE OF HER DREAMS. AND TODAY SHE TALKED ABOUT THROWING IT ALL AWAY ON A UNSURE GAMBLE IN LIFE. I ENCOURAGED HER TO DO RIGHT BY HERSELF ABOVE ALL ELSE."

" No what you encouraged her to do was not only keep us her family in the dark but more importantly her fiancée because of whatever reason you gave." Beatrice spoke up amongst the yelling. As a mother she felt a certain cord struck inside her at Alana's comments, " And what the fuck would you know about motherhood. Yeah it may be a unsure gamble, but it's the biggest win I've ever gotten out of life. But you wouldn't ever consider seeing it that way because your obsession with wanting to be successful enough to prove people wrong in your life has projected on to others. And i-t's toxic." She finished honestly.

At this Alana felt some of her wind be taken from her. Never had she heard Beatrice speak to someone this way, let alone her. So it not only took her by surprise but to her dismay, it stung.

" I agree. " Spoke Alex calmer now, " I mean did you even stop and consider her life with Austin in all of this?

Holding back tears of her own to look at Austin who remained silent she shifted her gaze back to Alex, " Who gives a fuck about that. ITS HER LIFE. HERS. Everything isn't always about him. And that's exactly why I advised her not to say anything to him until she made a solid fucking decision so he couldn't influence her as always."

Alex and everyone else watched in horror as Austin's head immediately snapped into Alana's direction, but before anyone could intervene his voice carried, " You. " He seethed, " Had ABSOLUTELY no fucking right to try and decide what my wife should and shouldn't be telling me. NO RIGHT! " He expressed pointing a accusatory finger. The tone in his voice made Beatrice and Alex both flinch.

They had never seen Austin the slightest bit upset really, let alone livid. So this was a whole new side of him to see.

But he couldn't help it. Where the fuck did she get off on saying something like that to the love of his life.

Alana's neck curled around to look at Austin shooting him a glance that could out anyone six feet under, " She's not fucking your wife. And she surely isn't your child or someone whose life you can dictate! She has dreams and goals! A-and values! But she's about to throw all of that away! FOR YOU! " She hissed taking strides closer to Austin. " Just because you spent the better part of your last decade long relationship constantly wishing that you'd been with a more housewife material girl. Doesn't mean that you can turn my friend into your little housewife to clean, cook, and shoot all your babies out whenever you so please." Alana raged.

Beatrice swallowed the sizably growing lump in her throat before cautiously motioning Sprite to and grab a security guard and Santiago to go stand in-between the two. Because she could tell this was not about to go well! She was actually surprised no one had been called already.

She knew Austin could contain himself, it was Alana she was cautious about.

Alex shared the same sentiments as Beatrice, especially because she could practically feel the heat radiating from Austin but still she knew better than to intervene.

Austin's voice became eerily low, " That woman has been my wife since the moment I slipped that damn ring on her finger. To hell with the legality of it!" He paused, " I support, love, and encourage Y/N in everything that she wants to do with every fiber of my being! EVERY-FUCKING THING! So for you to stand here in some self righteous ass pride and accuse me of trying to turn her into some type of " housewife " is fucking ridiculous. Especially when your so called advice damned near almost killed her!"

Santiago tried his best to diffuse, " Hey guys c'mon I think that's enoug-" but his efforts fell silent on their ears.

" But aren't you though. " A sharp laugh escaped Alana, " The Y/N I knew wouldn't have even considered giving up the opportunity to be Junior editor. There's no way. Not after all the work she's put in. So the only fathomable reason there remotely is has to do with YOU! You and your needs and your wants for someone to hold your hand and support you!"

Throwing his head back in anguish as he tried to control himself he went to look at her again with eyes that practically radiated distain, " You know what, Alana. What the fuck is your problem? I mean really what the fuck is the issue because as quiet as its kept you never really liked me in the first fucking place. Which that's fine. I didn't care as long as Y/N was happy, I could tolerate your little slick comments and glares whenever I was around or even brush aside that fact that you once tried to advise her to break up with me in the beginning of our relationship when we were having problems because I know friends always try to do right by each..I guess. " Austin explained.

" But today...I'm not doing this anymore. I need to know what the fuck is your issue! Can you not stand to see her happy that bad? Are you that fucking miserable in your own life that you need someone to wallow with you. Because I'll be damned if I let it be her. " He finished.

Stunned at his outburst the room remained silent expect for Alana who was fuming as tears raced down her face, " Wanna know what my problem is Austin! Like I haven't said it a thousand and one fucking times already! My problem is that you're a distraction and your holding her back from her potential! The success that would truly make her happy! That girl has the opportunity to be excellent and excel in a field not too many people like us get to be in. But she's about to throw it all the way to be some pathetic dull little stay at home housewife without a life for you!"

As soon as the last part left her mouth Alana was filled with instant regret.

Immediately all eyes surged to Beatrice who was in fact a stay at home mother and wife, but was not dull or pathetic in any way.

She had tears in her eyes and a look of hurt on her face that couldn't be described by any words, " So is that what you think of me, Lana? Huh? That I'm dull and that I don't have a life? Pathetic? " Beatrice questioned through rolling tears.

" Baby..." Santiago immediately reached for his wife.

Alana wasn't able to get a word out to Beatrice as Santiago ushered the poor woman out of the room as she had begun to sob.

Leaving Alex alone in the room with the two where everything had been spilled, she spoke freely, " Shame on you for saying that." She said with venom behind her words looking to Alana. Before turning to Austin, " And you need to step outside and gather yourself." She pointed.

Before either of them could form a rebuttal one of the hospital security guards had finally come to intervene and diffuse the situation, " Alright folks I get this is a very tense time and subject for everyone but if we could, why don't we just take it down some notches and go our separate ways to cool off for a bit.

Looking around at everyone Austin felt his chest heaving in anger and confusion. Deciding Alex was right and he was best to leave, he exited going to find a place to talk to someone who he knew could help him see the light at the end of the tunnel.

Leaning against the outside of the building the sound of the dialing tone rang in Austin's ear until he was graced with a voice, " Hello."

" Ash. It's me...you got a minute? "

----=

After having a conversation with his sister who'd come and sat with her baby brother for what seemed like hours. All Austin did after she and everyone else had left was sit and just look at you.

The love of his life and one of the only things that truly mattered to him.

He'd been in love before sure, but for the life of him he couldn't understand how he could love someone so much the way he did you. Because looking at you laid up in a hospital bedlike this was physically making him ill.

He couldn't have imagined what he'd had done if something had been seriously wrong or worse. And he didn't want to either...because the sheer thought was almost too much to bear.

His ponders were interrupted when he heard a faint knock come onto the door-seal.

Looking he could see Phoebe in the doorway with a apologetic smile, " Hey."

" Hey. Phoebe." He responded offering what he could of a content face.

" You got a minute? "

" Of course. Yeah let's do it."

Looking to you once more Austin got up moving to follow her to the hallway.

Once they were both outside Phoebe went to speak but Austin stopped her.

" Please don't." He sighed, "Don't apologize because it isn't your fault. You couldn't have known either." He stated.

At his declaration Phoebe turned to look away at the feeling of dampness hitting her eyelids, she hated crying infront of people, " I'm her best-friend, Austin. I should have seen. I should have noticed. I mean I knew something was off but I just thought it was the normal seasonal depression we all go through. And weren't wasn't exactly around each other as much since we were both busy..but still how did I miss this. Did I let this fall to the back burner? She' s my little sister." She questioned herself.

And it was true. The relationship you and Phoebe had went way beyond the bounds of friendship...you shared a sisterhood.

Nodding Austin understood her frustration, " How could you miss this, huh? I guess maybe the same her fiancée who wakes up and goes to sleep with her almost every night did, Phoebe. It happened. Don't know how her little crafty ass did it it..but she did." " He said letting the realization set in.

Smirking Phoebe laughed, " I'm just dumb founded that she was able to keep up this charade from us all for almost a month..a whole month. Sneaky little...OUU." Phoebe hit her hands together, they both laughed.

" Well not everyone it seems." Austin sighed referring to Alana and his blowout.

She nodded, " Yeah about that." She looked to him, " I'm super sorry you had to go through that. I can't imagine what all of this had to be like. Finding this all out at once and then having her say those things to you..it wasn't right. And I know I can't apologize for her but still...I'm sorry she acted that way." She says really giving him her most genuine empathy. " And I talked to Grace. She didn't know Y/N was pregnant either. Alana didn't even say anything to Grace about it, she had to find out through the phone convo with the nurse. She's pissed."

" She has every right to be. And you're right you can't apologize for her. But Phoebe be honest with me. " He shakily started, " Do all of you feel that way. Like I'm keeping her from her goals or I'm not good for her? " He asked knowing that if he got the dreaded answer he was prepared to do the unthinkable..and set you free if he was holding you back.

Without the slightest hesitation she went, " Absolutely not. No. Never. " She responded shaking her head, " If that were the case we wouldn't have even let you take our bestie out in the first place, trust me." Phoebe alerted. " If anything we feel the opposite. We see that you make her the happiest we've EVER seen her and she adores you just as much as you adore her. You're both disgustingly cute I admit and that's great because we support you two." She set the record straight.

Feeling a brick taken off what he felt like was the weight of the world on his shoulders, Austin nodded, " Thank you for that...but do you think she feels the same way about the baby...happy? " He asked.

Since you weren't awake and he couldn't ask you himself. Austin felt his need to prepare himself for what could happen..what decision you could make. He needed to know how to support you.

With Phoebe being your best-friend of so long he knew that this was as close of a look into your mind as she was going to get right now.

Acknowledging the look of desperation and fear on his face Phoebe started, " Truthfully after what Alana may have said I don't know." She spoke, " But before that what I can say is that whenever we joked around about the two of you having little curly haired chunkers tumbling around she always was so giddy about it. Smiling from ear to ear and shit." She informed making the embers of hope in Austin warm.

" But the one time we had a serious convo about right before the engagement she seemed open and fond of the idea..but in the same breath nervous and scared. And you know why I'm sure." She referenced to your abnormal upbringing.

" I do." He nodded taking in what she said.

Sighing Phoebe grabbed his shoulder, " I don't know. Honest. But not matter what just stick with her. She needs you..alot more than she may let on." Phoebe said.

Smiling small he responded, " Always. Because I need her too..a hell of a lot more than I let on."

#austin butler x black reader #austin butler imagine #austin butler #daysofourlove #angst #themangowrites #austin butler x reader #austin butler fanfic #austin butler fic

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quotidian-oblivion · 8 months

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Fic Stats Game

Got tagged by @uncertainwallflower for this game and THANKS SO MUCH!!

Rules: Give us links to your fics with the most hits, second most kudos, third most bookmarks, fourth most comments, fifth most words, and fic with the least amount of words.

Most hits

My School’s Local Mafia Boss

I think the title really explains it all? But anyway:

Jason knew that attending a rich ass school was going to be the toughest and most mind-grating thing ever. His beliefs were confirmed when he got cornered by bullies on his first day. The only thing he was surprised about was that it took them so long to find the school's new street rat. Just as he's about to be punched, a fucking 10 year old (he's actually 12) steps in and... starts threatening the bullies? And they actually listen?? What the fuck???

And that isn't the only surprise that's waiting for him.

Yep, knew it would be this one. I'm so proud of it

Second most kudos

Sometimes You Have To Find Your Own Genes

Timothy Jackson Drake just wants peace. So far, it’s going well with his time as Robin and hanging out with Batman and Nightwing while the occasional messy, violent visits from his parents. But when a certain someone comes back from the dead and reveals the secret he was honing and hiding for most of his life... well, it basically all goes to shit.

The multichap fics have the most stats cuz... they're multichaps. They appear in the filters more often

Third most bookmarks

Phone Alarms

"Just imagine Jason recording Batman angrily yelling "Nightwing!" then setting it as the sound of Dick's phone alarm so in the next morning when it goes off he flips the fuck out"

Saw the prompt on Pinterest. Wrote this in one setting.

I'm actually really proud of this one, might reread it

Fourth most comments

Can You Deduce Where I Am Now?

As soon as he woke up after coming back from Titans Tower, the second Dick and Bruce stepped into the room, Tim had eagerly told them that Jason was alive and that he was Red Hood! They didn’t believe him, blaming it on lack of sleep and the haze being shot brought, but Tim was sure he saw Jason. Older, bigger, with a white streak in his fringe, but still Jason.

Tim goes out to find Jason to bring his big brother back home. Jason... Jason has other matters to ponder on before deciding to come back.

I love this fic!! I went through like three or four different plots before writing it right before posting it (i write everything before posting). And then Cyg came in and beta-ed it so that was fun!

Fifth most words

Let Them Be Siblings

After the Waynes burst through his door and whisk him away from his parents and their harsh belting, their plane blows up, leaving Tim an orphan. Living in the manor is getting a little suffocating because no one seems to understand that he still loves his parents. They expect him to just “get over” his grief and—

Tim can’t stay anymore. So he runs away. And meets two very interesting people.

Least words

Regarding The Workings Of A Zoo

Damian collecting a series of increasingly non-domesticated animals and naming them after his siblings.

A drabble for 105 subscribers on ao3 and 100 followers on Tumblr!

This is 886 words i cant write small stuff, i keep blabbering

No pressure at all tags: @sardonic-sprite @tristicorde @wakkoroni @foursixtwonineoh-pieces-of-lego

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safyresky · 2 months

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I HAVE YET TO GO TO BED SO IT'S STILL TECHNICALLY MARCH 13TH SO WOE, FROSTMAS YEAR THREE BE UPON YE, AO3!

Give it a read on ao3 HERE.

Year Three

After failing to "make amends" over dinner with Jacqueline, Santa Jack visits the other Frosts to extend an "olive branch".

Physically PAINED ME to write--because I 100% essentially rewrote this chapter while prepping it for crossposting--this year because it's the year Jack goes to see the rest of the fam. And man, reading THIS VERSION OF A REUNION, WHERE MTF DIDN'T HAPPEN, AFTER CRYSTAL SPRINGS HAS BEEN FINISHED? I dealt so much psychic damage to myself, oy vey.

Would've been up sooner but we had a BIG EMOTIONS night here at safyresky industries. Eh, what are you gonna do? Bottle it up like these sprites do? FUCK NO! THAT'S HOW YOU FUCK YOURSELF UP! AH!

Word count went from 7k to 12k. I am SO skilled out of control. RIP.

Not sure what to heck a Frostmas is? I got you, boo! Have a summary:

The Twelve Years of Frostmas

Nobody but he and I knew the truth. Jack wasn’t supposed to be Santa; I wasn’t supposed to be Jack Frost. He thought being Santa would fix everything. He was horribly, horribly mistaken. [My take on Jack’s reign as Santa during the Escape Clause. MAJOR OC involvement AND First Person POV from said OC. Finally cross posting THIS behemoth! Enjoy!]

Interested? Take it from the top HERE on ao3! And here on ff dot net, where it is done up to Year 10.

And, of course, take a snippet from Year Three below the cut!

It was a moment before the doors swung open, revealing nobody. Jack frowned, confused. He blinked, peering into the foyer. “Can we help you?” Jack slowly lowered his gaze, taken aback by the new, slightly sassy voice. It was high pitched; gratingly so, almost. His heart skipped a beat when he finally came face to face with the figures that had answered the door. They were a matching pair. A boy and a girl. The boy held one of the doors open; the girl stood beside him, holding the other door open with one hand, the other sitting on her hip. They looked remarkably similar: same facial structure, freckles in all the exact same places along their faces. They were also very much on fire, the boy’s hair burning up, the girl’s hair lit at the ends, sparks cracking as she and the boy stared him down, unblinking. And that was when Jack realized that he was a big brother. AGAIN. Doubly so, in fact. It was the only logical explanation, after all. Twins. On fire twins. With very familiar noses and jawlines under the roundness. And very familiar golden eyes. Seems the next set of kids had finally taken after his father. “Hi,” he said, finally finding his voice. “Hey.” “Sup.” “Who are you?” “Who am I? You don’t know who I am? Actually, I should be asking you that. Both of you.” “Well, we asked you first, so…” the boy shrugged, looking up at Jack perplexed as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. “You don’t know who I am? Really?” They shared a look. “Nah.” “Not a clue.” “The jacket doesn’t give it away? The silly hat?” “Ha. It is a silly hat, isn’t it?” The girl snickered. “What about our faces? We have very similar noses, don’t you. Don’t you think?” “Yours is way more crooked,” the boy pointed out. “Do you get punched a lot? I bet you do.” The girl turned to the boy. “He has a kind of gets punched a lot aura, don’t you think?” The boy ignored her, tilting his head. “Are you supposed to be Santa?” “Yes!” “You don’t look like Santa at all.” “Yeah man. Way too frozie around here,” the girl squinted, gesturing to her chin. “And you’re way too skinny,” said the boy. “I’ve been watching my weight! Way too many cookies, and you know, the holly jolly look just isn’t my thing.” “Too many COOKIES?!?!” “The holly jolly look? Isn’t? your thing? But that’s Santa’s thing. That’s his whole shtick!” “YOU CAN NEVER HAVE TOO MANY COOKIES! WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU!”

WHAT INDEED, FIERA! WHAT INDEED.

Down to see how the Frostmas Family Reunion goes? FEAST YOUR EYES HERE!

---

And mind my errors, ehehehe.

I wanted to get this posted tf UP so I whooshed it in there after read through #2, and read through #3 is happening presently, if I manage to make it through without distraction. I started a thing called Frostmas Asides? More on that later, but it has my attention rn, and also I am EMOTIONALLY E X H A U S T ED and may just crawl into bed. Absolutely wildin given my penchants for late nights and that it's only midnight o'clock. Does NOT bode well for CR tomorrow, which is funny bc Time Change had me staying up ALL SORTS OF LATE THIS WEEK! AH!

Anyway, some fun changes abound! What's 🆕 for Y3: 2024 Edition:

Upped Bernard sass (delightfully so I think)

Wrote a whole new set of notes to get a vibe of where everyone actually was at, keeping MTF in mind and how the parents specifically are feeling when it occurs in CS

Added another brief bop into the present, with Jack recounting to Jacqueline where she, of course, interrupts him 🤪🤭

And then hits you with angst 😶

Winter's fierceness was upped; Fiera's anger is apparent, and Fino's general inquisitiveness/unease after it all is more apparent lol

WHOLE ASS ENTIRE NEW SCENE OF BLINTER COMFORTING THE KIDDOS POST JACK'S LEAVE. IT PULLS AT THE HEARTSTRINGS, AND, Y'KNOW, IF YOU'VE READ FROSTMAS UP TO THE MOST RECENT YEAR, MORE HINTS THAT WINTER KNEW ABOUT THE BAD THING ALL ALONG >:)

That takes place in the morning room by the window where Jacqueline waited, but this time Blinter's waiting for her, and it's--they--IT'S POETIC, OKAY??? AH!

I think that's everything. I'm too tired to properly recount??? Despite having this rotating in the head all day, lol. Hmu if you notice any GLARING typos! And enjoy Year Three! >:)

#dani speaks #ttyof #frostmas #the twelve years of frostmas #fanfic #the santa clause #the santa clause 3 #aus #ocs #dani writes #frostmas on ao3 #hey! tag readers! if you hit these before clicking the readmore! there's new shit in this chapter now!!!#okay let me get this out now lol #can't wait to look at this post tomorrow afternoon and find twenty typos all over again 🤣🤣🤣#i'll update the chapter on ff dot net after i edit it proper on ao3 lol #and i'll reblop with those links too afterwards #tho this is mainly about frostmas on ao3 tbh!#OK ENOUGH OUT OF ME. TIME TO CHUG FIZZY LIFTING DRINK AND GO TO BED #SLEEBY HOURS.

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scarletsaphire · 9 months

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I'VE GOT A BUNCH OF WRITING ASKS FOR YOU LETS GO

7, 22, 32, 36, 39, 40, 55, 56, 63, 64, 65

7. How do you choose which POV to write in?

Uhhhh that’s a great question honestly. Most of the time when I have an idea it comes with the POV built in; for multi chapter fics/things from multiple POV’s it boils down to “Who is close enough to the plot to make sense, emotionally charged, and not going to reveal everything immediately/throw everything out of wack.”

Putting the rest under a read more because it’ll be long.

22. Are there certain types of writing you won’t do?

I don’t like mind control, its an ick for me, so unless it’s 1000% necessary for the story I want to tell I won’t write it. I also tend to avoid first person, whether reading or writing. If its original fiction I’m more likely to be malleable with that, but for fanfiction, first person POV is an immediate turn off for me.

32. Name three of your favorite fanfic writers.

I’m going to make the decision not to include people from the pham, because otherwise it’ll just be people from the pham so >:p.

(Also to the author’s I’m tagging, sorry about the notification!)

@jackdaw-sprite is currently my favorite fanfic author. Their stuff is just creatively incredible, their writing style and prose is so, so, so well done. I can think of at least 5 of their fics by name that I am thinking about almost constantly. It’s all so absolutely incredible and I cannot recommend it enough.

@clockways has a lot of really good fics they are currently working on and every single one of them is absolutely incredible. The plots are well thought out and well executed, the characters all feel unique to their own stories while not feeling OOC, and they also do really good art.

@five-rivers is also on the list, which I’m sure surprises absolutely nobody. Obviously you have the Mortifiedverse which, as you know Hannah, I’m constantly freaking out over. It’s so so so well done, but also they have such a ridiculous quantity of other stuff and all of it is Top Tier.

36. How do you write kiss scenes?

Really quickly one after another in a weekend. Obviously.

The actual answer depends on the kiss scene itself. In general, I think my approach to kiss scenes is actually close to my approach to fight scenes? Unless there is something specific about the kiss that needs to be described, focus on the emotions its causing in the character instead. Even if you’ve never kissed someone you know what it’s going to look like, so spending time describing the physical appearance of the kiss is more often than not a waste of time. The emotions driving the kiss, or being caused by it, are much more important and interesting

39. Share a snippet from a WIP.

(From the gray ghost coffee shop story ;) (also tagging kad so she can get some gray ghost soup. @kadziduo

Laying in the rafters was Phantom. His ghostly tail was wrapped under the beam and back into his lap, so that the wispy end of it wrapped around one of his hands. The other hand dangled over the side, hovering in the air a good foot over the tallest patron. His head was leaned back against the post, and tilted to the side so that Valerie could clearly see his face, could clearly see that he was deep in sleep.

“He crashed here one night,” Mama Rose said from behind her. Valerie didn’t take her eyes of Phantom. There was something wrong about the whole situation, and she knew it had something to do with that ghost. You can never trust a ghost. “Literally, from the broken window. Found him asleep, just like that, so I made him a chocolate shake. He helped me clean up the mess, and he came back the next day.”

“I can chase the freeloader off for you,” Valerie said, her blaster whirring to life at her wrist.

40. If someone were to make fanart of your work, what fic or scene would you hope to see?

That’s a tough one. Daytime Stargazing, as much as that fic fought me, has a scene at the end with Sam capturing a picture pf Danny in the middle of an eclipse, phantom (ha) stars visible only around him, creating an aura. That one would be really cool to see.

55. Of the characters you write for, which is your favorite? Has the choice been swayed at all by your followers/readers reactions to certain ones?

Its going to come as a surprise to absolutely nobody yet again that it’s Danny. He’s. So easy to put in situations man how could I not love him. Valerie’s a close second, but Danny is just so versatile. Something cute and silly? Danny. Crack dissection fic? Danny. Slightly angsty magic adventure? Danny. It’s like one size fits all and that size is a half dead child.

56. What’s something about your written that you pride yourself on?

I’m very proud of a lot of parts of my writing tbh and I’ve never heard of humility in my life so you’re getting multiple B)

I have a knack for coming up with and fleshing out ideas. I write incredibly quickly and do it well on the first try, which means I don’t have to spend a lot of time editing if I don’t feel like it. (Will editing make it better? Yes. But I don’t feel like it.) I also am good at emotionally charged lines me thinks.

63. Something you hate to see in smut.

I’ve spent a good long while thinking and frankly its the same things I hate in most writing: Poor characterization and bad spelling/grammar. Most smut specific things I can sit through if the rest of it is good, but I can’t deal with those unless Specific Circumstances are met.

64. Something you love to see in smut

Possessiveness. It’s fun in fiction.

65. Tell us about what you’re looking forward to writing in your current project, or a future project.

The ice skating scene. You remember the ice skating scene I told you about don’t you? I want to write it but I have SO MUCH ELSE TO WRITE BEFORE HAND. >:(

#ask game #fanfiction #sorry again about the tags! (not to kad. take the gray ghost.)

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weirdgirl92 · 2 years

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Some info dumps on my Cuphead OCs

@firecurls-27 @nightmaretherabbit @marshmallow-biscuit-blog @zibiscusloon @anawkwardgalnamedtarazan @ur-typical-nerd @dnpanimationstudioclone

As you might already know, these past few months I’ve been stressing over how I’m going to introduce my Cuphead OCs here on this site, since: 1.) I have a LOT of Cuphead OCs, and 2.) I can’t draw for shit (literally, I only have one OC design finished so far). So, I’ve decided to suck it up, and just introduce most of them with only written descriptions for now.

((Remember what I said about having only one OC design completed so far? Well, this was the one I was talking about, and even then the wings don’t look quite right…))

Briar

A snarky, free-spirited forest sprite and my “main” Cuphead OC, who came from a hidden island called The Willow.

In sprite years, she’s 360 years old, which is basically 18 in mortal years (in my AU, a forest sprite ages every 20 years, which is the same amount of time a tree matures).

An outcast among her race, since she was “born different”. She can’t physically use magic to heal herself like other sprites can; and despite having plant magic, she’s really only able to conjure up mutant plants (and before you ask, no, this is NOT my fanon origin story for Cagney Carnation, though, Bry does kinda befriend him later on).

Has very unstable fire and hurricane powers that are only triggered when she’s very angry, which is why she always tries to keep her temper in check; she’s also the only sprite of her kind that can shape shift. There’s a reason for both of these things, which I can’t give away yet, because it’s a big spoiler.

Loves to play pranks on others, because it stems from a coping mechanism she’s had when other sprites would leave her out of “normal forest sprite activities”, since her magic was deemed too dangerous and unpredictable.

Initially runs away from home to find out more about her powers and where they actually came from, but ends up getting so wrapped up in her newfound freedom and finally settles down in Inkwell Isles, where she develops a huge fondness for jazz music and chocolate.

Is 4 inches tall at normal sprite height, but can make herself grow up to “human height” whenever she feels necessary to do so.

First time she met Cuphead and Mugman was sometime after the events of Sweater Luck Next Time. See, Mugs suggested he and Cups go on a relaxing camping trip together with Elder Kettle, to get his mind off The Devil; but during the night BEFORE that, Briar came across burnt remains of the forest that The Devil destroyed in his attempt to destroy the invisible sweater. This made her very frustrated, not just because of how long it’d take for one forest sprite to heal, but because of how limited her plant magic was. Then, after a miscommunication with the local forest animals, she mistakes Cuphead and Mugman for “that weird horned creature’s two little cohorts”. So, she used her powers to try and scare the two cups away from the forest they were camping in; but after realizing they were just kids who have an elderly caretaker, she revealed herself to them, explained her story and apologized for the misunderstanding.

When Briar first met The Devil, she wasn’t the least bit intimidated by him, because she’s heard so many stories about a devil over the years, that she was kind of disappointed to find that he was nothing more than a fluffy noodle with a childish temper. This bruised his ego so much more, that he made it his mission to find out what her worst fear is (all while trying to snag Cuppy’s soul).

Eventually, she develops a very tsundere-ish crush on The Devil, but refuses to let anyone know about it.

She also gets along very well with Henchman, because of his gentle and unassuming nature, and because of his willingness to listen whenever something on her mind is bothering her (he’s such a mom friend, I swear).

Mother Nature

Guardian of The Willow and mother figure to all sprites who live there, including Briar.

Is a GIANT woman (I’m talking Cala Maria height).

Proper, elegant, usually soft-spoken, but can be very fierce and strict as well.

Has pale green skin, doe-like ears, forest green eyes, silver antlers; and long, wavy, floating hair that slowly changes to any color of the rainbow.

When she gets angry, however, her hair becomes a fiery orange-red and looks like the shape of a giant flame, while her antlers become sharper and more pointed.

Wears a long flowing dark green robe that accentuates her curves.

Is very adamant about Briar keeping her powers in check, even if it means having her sit quietly on the sidelines for a while as other forest sprites preform their daily tasks of keeping The Willow alive and growing.

Lord Apollyon

The Devil’s evil bastard of a father, and the demon of discord and destruction.

Used to be an angel before he got booted out of Heaven for rebelling against God, but as he fell, he split some of himself up into 7 more demons, which (in my personal headcanon) was how The Devil and his 6 brothers were born.

When all 7 his sons came of age, Apollyon gifted each one of them their own pitchfork, their own henchman demon, and their own “underworld” on Earth for them to rule over and spread out his evil….all except for young Lucifer (Devil), because he was much too small and weak. Though, after much begging and pleading from Luci, Apollyon nonchalantly gave him a pitchfork that was more unstable and hard to control, along with a fat clumsy purple henchman demon (whom Luci would eventually name “Henchman”, because he’s just so terrible with names).

His upper body resembles a Siberian tiger, but with pitch black fur and small white stripes, while his lower body resembles a black snake, and his wings are leathery torn up dragon wings.

His horns are silver and look like ram horns.

Has scarlet red dragon eyes.

His pitchfork is made of lead (I chose to make it that way, because lead symbolizes death and sin).

Asmodel

Is based on Asmodeus, the demon of lust.

Is a scarlet red demon whose head and torso resemble a dragon/goat hybrid. (( Basically, like this, but without the long fangs sticking out of the lower jaws:))

Has the legs of a dragon, tail of a scorpion, and arms that look like talons of a harris hawk.

Wears a dark cape decorated with two large skulls on the shoulders: a bull skull on the left, and a ram skull on the right; also wears a black furry loin cloth with a silver chain as the belt, and a tiny rat skull in the middle of it.

A total sleazebag, and womanizer. Briar is especially uncomfortable around him, because he’d tend to flirt with her right in front of The Devil, which in turn makes HIM very uncomfortable, and angry (though he swears it’s totally not out of jealousy, nope, not at all).

Extremely vain, and incredibly extra (which is pretty much why he wears a dramatic looking cape all the time).

Loves to gamble and was the original owner of the casino, before Devil won it from him in a game of poker (thanks to a little card trick King Dice taught him when they were young).

His pitchfork is made of antimony, since it’s a metal that symbolizes “animalistic urges”.

His henchman is a goat-legged imp named Deva.

Beez/Beelzebub

The demon of gluttony.

Looks like a giant, morbidly obese bat with orange fur, black horns, and bat wings that are orange on the outside and black on the inside.

Is very infamous for stealing people’s crops.

Has the ability to use his powerful breath to inhale and suck in anything he chooses to devour.

Commands an army of fly demons (and yes, I did base this off of actual demon myths of Beelzebub and the Order of the Flies).

His pitchfork’s made of brass, since brass symbolizes “abundance” in life.

His henchman’s an imp named Grub, who has a pig-like nose, pig-like ears, and tiny insect wings.

Maymun

Is based on Mammon, the demon of greed.

A wolf demon with charcoal colored fur, dark gold claws, long gold spikes on his elbows and shoulders, a long black dragon tail with tiny gold spikes, and ivory colored horns with gold tips on his head.

His eyes have a bronze colored sclera with golden amber irises.

Often disguises himself as a “normal-looking” anthropomorphic white wolf to scam unsuspecting mortals out of their riches.

Has tried to cheat The Devil out of his casino on occasion, but was unsuccessful each time.

Does NOT get along with Asmodel at all, mostly due to their common obsession with gambling.

His pitchfork’s made of copper, since copper is said to attract money and good fortune.

His henchman is a fox-eared, frog-legged imp named Mulciber.

Leviathan

Based on the envy demon of the same name.

Is a giant sea serpent with bluish-green scales, a silver underbelly, large transparent gills on the sides of his face, icy blue eyes, and emerald green horns.

Uses his roar as a siren call to command any sea creature to do his bidding.

Has the ability to breath fire under water.

He also eats electricity, and his tail can produce electric shocks to paralyze his victims.

Is bitter rivals with Cala Maria, because he wants to be known as the most fearsome creature in the ocean, and hates that she’s stealing his thunder.

His pitchfork’s made of blue cobalt, since cobalt is often considered an “ocean metal”.

His henchman’s a sea slug looking imp named Nudi.

Belial

The demon of wrath and Apollyon’s favorite son.

Is a crimson red dragon demon with black horns, small black spikes that go down from his neck, all the way to his tail; black claws, and piercing green eyes.

Usually prefers to work alone.

The other demon brothers really don’t like to talk about him that much, because they’re all terrified of him (including Devil).

His pitchfork’s made of iron, because iron represents aggression and primal rage.

Doesn’t have a henchman, but he does have a pet manticore that eats or attacks anyone he doesn’t like.

Belphy/Belphegor

The demon of sloth.

Resembles a giant light blue sloth with short dark blue horns, long razor sharp claws, and eyes that have a gray sclera with red irises.

Easily the laziest of the seven demon brothers.

Doesn’t usually take on a task unless if there’s something in it for him.

His claws can literally slice through anything.

Has the ability to enter people’s dreams, where he is most powerful (this idea I kinda stole from @anawkwardgalnamedtarazan, lol, sorry).

His henchman’s a bat-winged, donkey-eared imp named Almos.

His pitchfork’s made of magnesium, because it’s a metal that’s said to “relax the body and brain”, and induce sleep.

So, what do you guys think? Constructive criticism is welcome, of course, because there’s probably some things about these characters I might want to change in the future.

#cuphead ocs #my list of ocs #I spent a lot of time on this trying to make the bullet points as short and sweet as possible #But I didn’t want to leave out any “important” bits at the same time

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tyrorexdmzapp · 1 year

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Lost recut plans part 3

As promised, I’ll talk about the cast I had planned for Paper Mario Recut 3, prior to 2020’s reveal and release of The Origami King.

Little side note- initially, Mario Story would be relegated to DMZ-original topics, while Paper Mario would apply to future Recuts. Following 2020, though, and my decision to soft-reverse my stance on no more recuts, I decided TOK Retold will also get the Mario Story moniker. However, we’re here to talk about what won’t come to pass before talking about what did and what will, so…there.

First off, the partners. 5 new ones- plus a special 6th one- would join the OG game’s Tattler partner, assuming they would be the only partner…AGAIN. Like before, some would take incompatible traits from the OG tattler if I felt it was needed, as well as provide more back-and-forth. Alongside that, 2 past characters would be partners- Super Paper Mario’s Squirps (since he technically was, by all accounts, a partner in his source game), and the Wii U Recut’s Marirana again (with the same story’s Edwin in an NPC side role). 3 of the new partners were new species, while the other 2 would be a Gearmo and a Kleptoad, both female. After so many posts of just words yet no images, I can say I did actually design the female Kleptoad partner, even posting her to my deviantart account without revealing the full nature of her. This is Sachit, who I think was supposed to have a helpful yet grey-shaded ranger persona to her, similar yet different to Edwin before her.

Keep in mind- Sachit’s sprites were designed back at the beginning of 2017, when I was just starting to make higher resolution parts and poses. In addition, I did amuse the idea of just having poses but no parts. While a few hiccups have happened over the years in accidentally posing characters with the source part folder and being forced to backtrack or even start over, I never revisited the idea intentionally. I felt and still feel fans deserve all the parts needed to possibly use for their own characters.

Regarding that 6th “special” partner, long before TOK came out, I was also planning a story twist where one partner who isn’t the tattler…doesn’t make it out of the story, and before the end point, too. Unlike TOK, Recut 3 posited having the vanquished partner replaced with this 6th character, if only to solve previously unsolved obstacles requiring the character’s field ability.

With what TOK actually did, as it turned out, Olivia was not the only partner after all. TOK ended up marking a return of sorts of partners in Mario’s party. Unfortunately, there were many problems with this version of the system. The partners couldn’t be controlled, they missed half their attacks, they couldn’t fight bosses, everyone who wasn’t Olivia was temporary, and only one partner was a full OC, or as full an OC a partner could be with certain needless restrictions revealed prior to the release- Professor Toad, a Toad archaeologist dressed from top to bottom unlike many other Toads in the game. Also, while there WAS some back and forth between Olivia and the partners, Olivia still felt slightly crammed and uncertain in what the characterization was meant to be.

Last, TOK ended up doing the non-tattler perishes before the endgame thing I had planned. While most people ate it up and felt sad about it, as time passed, I came to a realization. That realization- the sacrifice and the partner involved were horribly botched, due to how rushed the partner in question was, and the not-so-innocent meta agenda behind that partner to glorify genericness. Oh, and sitting out a major battle emotionally important to that partner, yet which that partner bafflingly refused to even follow Mario into.

So while an unexpected sacrifice was always destined for Recut 3 and what would turn out to be TOK, it would likely be reworked in a way more pragmatic and sincere than…what we ended up with. Whether the intended sacrifice would outright kick out that lacking partner from the story outright, or that lacking partner would be fully fixed in every regard, it’s hard to say.

For TOK Retold, Olivia getting slightly lightened yet refocused in characterization is still a go, though none of the original partner choices are making it in. The official sacrifice partner is also staying, and getting a giant revamp that not only denies the original alleged "point" (which I never believed had any strength or merit), but posits the opposite. Last, due to a role reversal idea I had regarding the Deeps Sisters, Suebelle is a partner in TOK Retold, with Marirana getting a different role instead…

On unique NPCs, the most interesting official ones to make it in would have been Rosalina, Mister I, the Chimp, Twink and TEC-XX. Meanwhile, in addition to Suebelle and the aforementioned Edwin, CS Recut’s Caapri and Wonder Journey’s Cael would have had a role. With new characters, meanwhile, the sole new Toad would have been a new incarnation of Chet Rippo. More comically, Marirana and Edwin would have been revealed to have sired SIXTEEN children, each with different designs. I even intended to take that number into the hundreds, and include a sidequest where- brace yourselves- Mario and friends would have to find the children across the world to power themselves up in some way! Last up, Perry the Goomba would return in new Bowser armor, alongside three new characters. Like Sachit, I showed these three characters with…a little more of a hint, but not much…hint to their intended future use. To go with the theme of Perry’s new name being based on a form of defense or countering, I made Kowntta the defensive yet loyal female Koopa, Stuunis the bumbling wizard Boo, and Avade the ninja Shy Gal.

These four were the most in the running to be the EX Story’s focus characters, alongside a fourth possibility of CS Recut’s versions of Prism Island’s Rescue Squad.

After TOK came out, Twink and Edwin were still initially slotted to appear in the main story of TOK Retold. However, to appease (honestly unfair) comments that I wasn’t using enough of the source games’ characters for past recuts (I strongly believe I was, though, and that critique assumes the original 3DS and Wii U games were worth honoring with no changes or compromises, which I do not think whatsoever), combined with the restrictions, Twink ended up getting replaced with Bowser Jr so he could have more screentime, while Edwin’s intended role got taken over by the original Yoshi. Meanwhile, despite my desire to have Marirana and Edwin’s kids show up in a role ironically different from the audience townsfolk idea the full game used, the later decision to follow the restrictions put the kibosh on the young Slurple-Boomboxer hybrids and Perry’s squad being able to show up, as well as a good amount of the Prism Island Rescue Squad. Thankfully, I do have someone rather unexpected lined up to be the EX Story’s focus character…but that will have to wait until release.

That’s pretty much all the important stuff regarding what was planned for Recut 3, what happened in TOK’s official release, and the new ideas for TOK Retold. I’m TyrorexDMZapp, and thank you for coming to my TOK Talk.

#paper mario #mario story #paper mario recut #the origami king #sprites #blender3d #blender

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imnobodyuknow · 2 years

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All righty, so...here’s the deal -- I was hoping to have some stuff ready before sharing “big reveal” number 55 (with good old Mary as the hostess, naturally), but...some unexpected events got in the way. Besides that, I think I’ve kept y’all waiting long enough for it, so let’s get the heck on with it!

*sigh*

Sorry ‘bout that, Mary. But hey, Halloween’s still not here yet, so...maybe we can come up with something else by then?

“...!”

“I see...”

Ahem... Anyway...

It turns out this drawing is a crossover of sorts, between Ace Attorney and the spinoff series, The Great Ace Attorney Chronicles! (If you can call that a crossover.) How exactly could the characters from the modern-day timeline interact with those from Meiji-era Japan/Victorian-Era Britain without the use of time travel, you may wonder? Well, since Halloween is approaching, and since we know that spirits of the dead paying a visit to the living is a thing in Ace Attorney...what if a couple of them were to pop up in a certain young magician’s room?

Quite the beautiful interaction between past and present, wouldn’t you say? If you want some context for the drawing, well then...you’ll just have to read the short story I wrote about Trucy and her two ghostly visitors. So...go ‘head and do that if you haven’t already.

...

...Okay, fine, I’ll fill you in. ; ) I’ll put it underneath the cut in order to avoid spoiling anything.

Basically, Trucy had been struggling with a strong fear of hers one night (a fear of what might happen in the future, to be specific), but was reluctant to face that fear until a wise and compassionate Susato, joined by her husband, Ryunosuke, helped her to open up about it. Sharing her fear with the two of them led to a heavy burden being lifted from Trucy’s mind and spirit, but not without some bitter tears along the way. Being the compassionate type, Susato ran up to her and embraced her tightly, shedding some tears of her own, as Ryunosuke “watched them silently, a look of calm pity mixed with satisfaction on his face.”

This climactic part of the story was something I couldn’t help but want to recreate visually, so here it is now in all its moonlit glory! X ) I hope it’s at least similar to what you had in mind when you reached this part of the story.

And yes, I’m aware that the games don’t specifically indicate whether or not Ryunosuke and Susato got married after their adventures in London, but there’s at least a fair amount of evidence to support that idea, if you ask me. In any case, a guy’s allowed to headcanon, right? ; )

Ryunosuke was mostly based on his official art...

...the only difference being the position of his left arm, which came from one of his “thinking” sprites:

Susato was also based on her official art...

...while her facial expression came from her “sad” sprite:

Strangely enough, I was planning to use Trucy’s “crying” sprite from Spirit of Justice as a reference, but I ended up mostly using a sprite from Apollo Justice -- one of the few that shows her without her hat on.

This was my first attempt at drawing two people hugging, so I used a drawing of Iris and Phoenix hugging made by KamiyaYoriko (as far as I’m aware, at least) as a guide.

Whether the reason behind it is romance or reconciliation is up to the viewer, I suppose. *smirk*

It was also my first attempt at creating translucent people with pencil and colored pencil, and I think it turned out pretty well. Susato’s arms were a little tricky, since I had to figure how to make Trucy and her left arm visible behind right arm. It was a fun challenge overall, though.

Trucy’s bed, dresser, and bookshelf are all based on the ones in my room, with a couple of variations, those being the playing card-themed knobs on her dresser and the compartments in her bookshelf being diamonds rather than squares. Ordinary items wouldn’t do for an extraordinary magician like her, after all. ; )

On her dresser sit her iconic hat, her Granddaddy’s notebook, a pink heart-shaped purse, and an alarm clock. The notebook and purse both came from Spirit of Justice -- the first is a piece of evidence, while the second can be found in the Penrose Theater dressing room.

That bag behind it is on top of Trucy’s bookshelf as well. And I just now noticed that it has a Mr. Hat-shaped zipper ornament. Nice touch, Capcom artists! X )

And finally, her alarm clock is based on the one I have. The time on it, 2:17, is a reference to the Bible verse referenced by Susato in the story: 2 Timothy 1:7. Here it is in case you don’t feel like looking it up:

“For God has not given us a spirit of fear, but of power and of love and of a sound mind.” (NKJV)

That’s one of the main reasons why I follow God, if I’m being honest. Without Him, I wouldn’t stand a chance against the fear I’ve dealt with and the ones I deal with today. Whatever fears you may be dealing with, I hope you’ll allow Him to bless you in the same way.

And with that, enjoy the rest of October, everyone! I’ll see you on Halloween!

“Hm hm hm hm hm!”

Mary, please stop making that face.

#ib #mary #the great ace attorney chronicles #ryunosuke naruhodo #susato mikotoba #ace attorney #trucy wright #iris #phoenix wright #pencil art #colored pencil art #i'd make the story into a full manga-style comic if i had the time to dedicate to it #i love these characters so dang much!!!

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mochaart · 3 years

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some important takeaways from the new beach sprites

#danganronpa #danganronpa s #chiaki nanami #kokichi ouma #shuichi saihara #nagito komaeda #hajime hinata #hiyoko saionji #danganronpa decadence #danganronpa summer camp #these were the first things that came to mind when all the sprites were revealed #so clearly my priorities are well aligned #my art

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hey-iam-fire-ghost-but-i-write · 2 years

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like the gardens of babylon

Kingo x fem!reader

not my gif, credits to the owner.

English is not my first language, sorry for the mistakes but be nice about it!

Summary: The Eternals are regrouping after the attack of the deviant, and Kingo is scared of news about Ajak breaking his lover's heart.

Warnings: none (unless Taylor Swift lyrics influencing the writing consists in a warning to you) (oh, and maybe a lil bit of implied smut??? seggsy)

Word Count: 2.1K

The second he laid his eyes on you, Kingo felt like he learned how to breathe all over again. Something in his chest spread warmth to all his body. It was like all his youth found home in him again, after spending an eternity feeling like the end was near.

You looked exactly like the day he left you. Young and beautiful.

Alive.

You looked like all those things he wasn’t anymore.

Yes. It was dumb for him to think that since he was an Eternal, being young and beautiful would consist of a challenge for him.

But feeling alive was whole other story.

His acting was a form of living. He lived through his character’s stories. For months he made himself at home in somebody else’s wishes, ambitions and lust. It was like shutting himself off so his own feelings wouldn’t get in the way of his days.

He chose heroes. Gigantic and admirable men who didn’t fear anything and were always loved by people. Always loved back by the person they cared deeply about.

Heroes like Gilgamesh, like his brother Ikaris.

But when the cameras stopped rolling and nobody was around him, everything would go back to being cold and dead.

Now, looking at you, he wondered if you felt the same way about performing. If the noise of thousands of people screaming back the lyrics you wrote was your own way to find some kind of solace in this unbearable existence.

You looked like you owned the world up on that stage.

Kingo thought that maybe you did, you owned him and his melancholic heart for centuries… maybe your protective nature allowed you to put the whole world under your wing somehow.

Back in the day that’s how he used to define you: the protective Eternal, the one who watched over all of them. You made Ajak’s work so easy. Never letting anyone get hurt on the battlefield, your shields made of cosmic energy always around your family, securing them away from any danger the deviants might bring their way.

The crowd screamed back the last lyric to the verse when you let your voice drop, only to test how much noise the people would make on your command. The results didn’t disappoint you, he knew it by your smile.

“I wish I came to one of these under better circumstances” Sprite at his right screamed over the noise.

“Wait till she sees us, she’s going to be so happy” Sersi screamed right back to her.

“It’s a shame that we’ll break her heart with the news” Ikaris said so only Kingo could hear him. His brother rested one hand on Kingo’s shoulder and squeezed it.

They looked at each other for a moment, but Kingo brought his eyes back at your moving figure entertaining the public.

“Don’t worry, brother, you won’t have to tell her”

The loyal soldier Ikaris. Always so aware of other people’s feelings.

Telling you about Ajak’s death was the last of Kingo’s wishes.

It was long after the concert ended that you reunited with your fellow Eternals. You looked radiant, happier than ever.

Kingo wondered how much of that happiness was caused by you being away from all of them.

“Well, finally someone showed up” you said, huge smile on your face and opening your arms so Ikaris could get between them “I was about to make Druig control all of your minds so you could come and see me. How many times I sent the tickets to you guys?”

Ikaris squeezed you tightly, a warm smile on his face. His sisters were always his weak spot, Kingo remembered.

Sprite ran up to you two and was next on the hug. Sersi smiled at you and revealed: “Hey, I was there for your last concert back in London”.

“I wasn’t complaining about you, my beautiful sister”

And then your eyes were on him “Hello, Kingo”

Kingo felt his heart skip a beat and his stomach turn on itself. He raised a hand and did an awkward shake with it, smiling at you with warm spreading all over his face.

But before he could speak, a small figure with a handy on hand got in front of him and all over your face “Hello, miss. It is a pleasure to meet you, my name is Karun Patel and I’m a huge fan of yours. Sir Kingo always makes me turn down the invitation to your concerts, but today’s performance was incredible, miss”

“Oh, Karun” you said, looking at him sweetly “I’m happy you liked it… I guess that you’re the one who’s sending all the flowers on Kingo’s behalf”

“Oh, yes, yes, miss” Karun nodded “Sir Kingo said that blackthorns were your favorite”

“Did he now”

Your amused tone didn’t go unnoticed by Kingo, who smiled back at you “What kind of friend would I be if I didn’t know your favorite flowers, my sweet joy”

You smiled at him “I would hope that you would be the kind of friend who visits more often and not when something bad has happened”

Kingo smile dropped when he remembered the reason why they were all there. He guessed that he caused your own smile to disappear when the look on his face confirmed your suspicion.

You got a step closer to him “What is it, Kingo?”

The Eternal opened his mouth but didn’t find the words to say it.

Ikaris cleared his throat, claiming your attention. Kingo let go of the breath he was holding, relieved that he wasn’t going to be the one to break your heart “The deviants are back”

The shock in your face disappeared fast, determination taking over your features “I’m not going with”

Sersi got closer to you and called your name.

“No” you denied “You’re strong, there’s four of you. It’s more than enough. I’m sure that Gil will get into it too” you turned your back and started to walk towards the door.

“We need you” Sersi said.

“No, you just need Gil and maybe Thena… she’s doing a lot better these days and…”

Sprite called your name.

“Ajak told us to live our lives and that’s what…”

“Ajak is dead”

Ikaris' statement, cruel and cold, freezed you in place. You turned around to look at him.

“That’s not possible”

Ikaris gaze softened when he looked at the defenseless look on your face “It is true”

“No. It is not. I talked to her a few weeks ago. She was fine”

“A deviant went after her and killed her” Ikaris explained.

“Stop it, Ikaris” you demanded.

“We found her three days ago…”

“Stop it, you are cruel. You’re a cruel man”

“It’s true, sister” Sprite stepped in, taking your hand in hers.

“Stop acting like she’s dead, she is not. I talked to her only a few weeks ago. I promised I would call soon, I just didn’t have the time but…” you took you hand away from Sprite and you met Kingo’s gaze “I- she cannot be death, Kingo… we’re Eternals. How she-”

“Sweetheart” Kingo’s voice stopped your ranting.

You looked at him for a few seconds in his eyes, finding all the confirmation you needed.

“I cannot believe this” you whispered.

“We’re getting all the team together again” Ikaris told you. Your eyes never left Kingo’s “We have to go to Thena and Gil… they know where Druig is and maybe even Makkari…”

You moved your head side to side “I’m not going”

Ikaris called your name, impatient “Sister…”

“Ajak let us go free when she most needed us” you looked straight to Ikaris “She gifted us freedom” your voice was never more clearer “Freedom to build our own lives. And that’s exactly what I intent to do. It’s my way of honoring her” you nodded “If you want someone to kill the deviant that put an end to her life, find the vengeance you’re looking for in Thena. She’ll have plenty to give”

The hurt in your eyes was almost too painful to witness; Kingo decided that he never wanted to see such sight ever again.

You walked out of the room, no matter how many times Sprite tried to stop you by calling your name.

Ikaris looked for Kingo’s eyes, and when he found them he sighed.

“So we came all this way for nothing” Sprite said.

“No. She loved Ajak. It was just fair that we told her about her death” Sersi nodded with confidence “And she’s right. It is only her decision now”

“Freedom won’t make her any good if a deviant comes after her and she’s all alone” Ikaris crossed his arms, frustrated “You saw what those things did to our Ajak”.

Kingo sighed “Let me talk with her” and he interrupted Sprite before she could begin to talk “Alone”.

Kingo went after his protector.

He found you sat down in the hallway, with your hands running through your hair. The Eternal smiled as in reflex.

His heart couldn’t stop the warmth you provoked in him, the sweetness that rotted his being in the best way possible. Loving and kind.

“I thank you for not walking too far” he started saying “This place is a maze”

“I knew you would come after me” you whispered while he approached you “You were always chasing me around anyways”

Kingo looked at you, amused “I don’t exactly remember it that way”

You looked up at him “Yeah well, maybe that’s just my imagination” there was that beautiful smile he loved “I enjoyed to think that the person I loved the most would always be around me”

Kingo felt how his stomach flipped on it’s own when he processed what you just say.

“I do love you”

“But you never stayed around”

Your statement shattered something inside of him “Yes, that is true” he admitted.

“So why now I must do what you never did for me?” you questioned him.

“Because you’re better than me, you always were” he extended his hand to you “The very best of us”

You took his hand and let him help you up “For a man that loves to be the center of attention, you do think so little of you”

He gave you a tender smile “Or maybe is what I think of you that’s so big”

You looked at his cheek, right where a little dimple was showing “What do you think of me, Kingo?”

The Eternal allowed himself to be lost in your wondering eyes for a few seconds, trying to remember exactly how it used to be between the two of you back then. Back home in Babylon. He wrapped around your finger, hanging from your lips. Holding tight to every word, every whisper and promise. When you were the moon and he was the tide. Back when he learned the truth about you while he was buried deep inside you, with your taste lingering on his tongue.

He would never love again.

“I think the world of you, khoba” he whispered the endearment in the same language he used to make you whimper back in Babylon “And I think there’s still fight in you” he let a jolt of his cosmic energy touch you hand, that was still being held by his. You smiled at the sensation “I see it in your eyes”

You let a sigh go, tension building up again in your shoulders.

“I know you’re tired” he whispered “I am too” he admitted “But that’s what teams are for, my love. You and I were the best of the best”

You smiled at him “I know” you whispered.

“You’re right about something” he let go of your hand to cup both of your cheeks “If this, you enjoying your freedom, is your way of honoring Ajak’s gift” you looked at him in the eyes “Then no one can take that away from you” tears began to fill your eyes “No one” he whispered.

“Gods, I missed you, Kingo” you confessed “I feel like I can not breathe right now” you laughed, hands forming fist around the Eternal’s shirt. He laughed with you.

You leaned close, and he followed. Your forehead touching his.

“I know what you mean” he said while he pushed his forehead against yours a little. He started laughing when you answered to his action by pushing against him too.

He caressed your cheeks with his eyes closed, your breath dancing against his lips like begging for a place to rest. He thought that in that exact moment, with you sweetly humming to his affection, nobody could blame him for falling.

“I’ll fight for you, my love” you whispered “I’ll always fight for you”

And he hanged to that promise like the gardens back home in Babylon.

#oh to be an eternal and in love with kingo #oh forever to be the sweetest con #kingo #kingo x reader #kingo eternals #kingo x fem!reader #the eternals #eternals #should I use Druig's tags like everyone uses Kingo's tag for Druig's fics?#mmmmm maybe I'm that kind of evil who knows #druig #druig x reader #druig x makkari #marvel #mcu #mcu x reader #marvel eternals #marvel kingo #please FIND this fic if youre looking for kingo fluff

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theirbbygirl · 3 years

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Second Lead Syndrome

Word Count: ~8.7k words

liked this? there’s more on my masterlist!

Genre: Angst, Fluff, Comedy, Female reader insert

Description: Y/n and Minho have been friends for more than 2 years now, but suddenly she begins to see herself as the mere second lead in Minho’s story. Will she be the rare second lead who gets her own happy ending?

Warnings: some crying, themes of unrequited love (if there’s anything that I missed don’t hesitated to let me know!)

I’d only ever encountered Second Lead Syndrome in the dramas I’d watched. Wanting the girl to end up with the second lead who was so obviously the better and healthier choice, but like every avid watcher of kdramas, it's more than likely for the main leads to end up with each other, that was just how it worked. What I never thought I’d encounter was seeing it happen before my own eyes and experience it firsthand.

Life was never supposed to be a kdrama. Life was supposed to be simple, a straight line, going from point A to B with no complications. But life never really went my way did it? It just had to throw in one variable, one man that had too much influence on my life.

I couldn’t remember the first time I met Minho. It was probably sometime in the first grade when his family first moved in next to mine. But alas, we were both too young to remember exactly what sparked our friendship. One day we were strangers and the next we had given our parents a near heart attack when we both went after a stray cat on the way back home (my mom’s words, not ours). From then my memories were filled with him, just us besties hanging out like anyone would with their best friend. First party, first mental breakdown, first drink, all with him. Soon enough we were in our final year of University, and ultimately, adults.

The Minho I knew was laid back, not too extroverted but not too introverted either. While I completely contrasted him, always anxious about something, wanting perfection to the T, and completely and utterly introverted. Our friendship, moving into University, sparked a lot of questions. You wouldn’t typically find the introverted straight-A student with the borderline badboy tsundere walking and laughing in the halls together, spending practically every waking moment together. But Minho didn’t care, and neither did I, so we moved through life pretty easily.

One of the few things we had in common was our love for cats, and when we both foudn out there was a cat cafe just a few minutes walk from our campus, you best bet we spent too much of our time and money there. Studying, hanging out, anything you could imagine. If we weren’t in one of our dorms, we were more than likely to be in the cat cafe.

Every day after class we’d go there and we’d complain about our least favorite professors and how lectures would seemingly last for longer than they should. Additionally, Minho had almost become akin to my own dormmate with how much time he spent in my dorm. He’d come in whenever he wished, stealing my frozen pizzas and sodas, using my Netflix account on my TV to watch weird National Geographic shows and make random comments like “that snake looks just like Kim Seungmin,” or “look its Hannie” whenever a squirrel came on screen. Minho was always there when I needed a drinking partner after bombing a test or assignment, pouring me shots of soju until I passed out and bringing me to my bed and tucking me in whiel he would sleep on the couch to make sure I wouldn’t do anything stupid in the middle of the night.

Although, more people knew Minho’s name than mine, but that didn’t bother any of us. We continued on being friends as usual, and it felt like nothing would change that. Life was moving in a straight line like it should’ve always been.

At least, that’s what it felt like until February, just a few months before we graduated.

I make my way to our usual spot in the courtyard after buying an iced coffee and a snickers bar from the vending machine next to my classroom, I walk up behind Minho sitting on a bench when I find him staring out in front of him instead of looking at cat videos on his phone like he usually does. Slowing my walk, I trail my eyes to the vague direction he’s facing and see that he’s looking at Kim Seungmin and a girl chatting outside the classroom. I ignore the thought, opting to think that Minho must’ve spaced out thinking about how he would irritate Seungmin next class. I plop down next to him when he still doesn’t take note of my arrival, so I get right next to his ear and blow cold air into it, snickering when he jolts in surprise.

“What was that for?” He whines, fake annoyed.

“You got lost up in your thoughts for a certain Kim Seungmin there.” I snicker some more, opening my snickers (hehe) bar.

Just as I’m about to take the first bite of the sugary goodness, the chocolate bar gets snatched out of my hands and a certain Lee Minho takes an obnoxious bite out of it, not even giving it back but eating it like it was his. I pout, watching him devour my snack, knowing that I couldn’t do anything to get it back.

“For your information, I was not thinking about Kim Seungmin.” He says pointedly, slightly muffled by the chocolate in his mouth.

I sigh, knowing I wasn’t going to get that chocolate bar back any time soon, and open my iced coffee. “So what were you thinking about then?” I ask before taking a sip.

“Don’t know, spaced out.” Is all the answer I get and I highly doubt him, but I brush it off anyways and don’t pry.

Minho and I slide into our usual conversation about assignments, plans for the week, and everything under the sun. We talk about how he’s planning to visit home the next day and stay for a weekend and how excited he is to see his cats after a long time, I unknowingly smile at his ramble about how talkative Dori is, and just sit back and listen. I never took into account how healing it was to just watch and listen to him talk, the sultry of his voice and his little exclamations of frustration or excitement that came once in a while. I had to catch myself from staring when he turned to look at me, having asked me a question I didn’t catch.

“Sorry what was that?” I ask.

“Am I that beautiful for you to have lost your hearing to my handsome face?” I couldn’t just tell him that that was basically what had happened, it would inflate his ego by too much and reveal everything I’d hidden thus far.

“The heck? No, I was thinking about how great it would be to get some peace and quiet while you’re not around this weekend.” I lie, having Minho around is the only thing that brings me entertainment that isn’t endless sappy kdramas on my laptop, but he can never know that.

Minho scoffs, says something under his breath that I don’t quite catch, then turns back to me. “You love me.” He says with a pout.

“Unfortunately I do.”

That was the first of many inconspicuous confessions.

It was nearing 3 or 4 am and I was about halfway done with another kdrama when several knocks resound through the small living space. Knowing exactly who it is, I only shout back “you know the code!” and moments later the door opens.

I don’t bother to get up and greet Minho, this exact scene has happened too many times for either of us to care at this point, and it doesn’t surprise me that the moment he enters he shouts, “Honey I’m home!” like we’re in some cheesy romcom.

“Mhmm, welcome home, leech.” I enunciate the last word purposely, but I know he won’t bat an eye at the term. I continue to chew my popcorn while he wanders through my cabinets, looking for snacks. “There’s chips in the cabinet next to the fridge and sprite in there too. If you want more food order Chinese takeout.”

“I don’t have my wallet.” I can practically hear his pout from where I sat, eyes unmoving from the TV screen.

“You know where mine is, but you have to pay me back.” A few seconds pass with no response until suddenly he’s next to me and kissing my cheek.

“I loveeee you!” He says too sweetly, retreating back to the mini-kitchen to order takeout.

“Mhmm, I love you too.” I say, not loud enough for him to hear the confidence missing from my tone.

Continuing to watch the episode of in front of me, I remain in my comfortable position, only moving to lift my legs when Minho comes back to sit on the couch under my legs and the blanket.

“Oh you’re watching this one?” He asks, reaching into the bowl of popcorn I offer him.

“Yeah, didn’t have anything else to watch so I put it on since everyone seems to like it so much.”

“Mm,” he hums while also indulging himself into the scenes playing in front of him. “You’re probably team potato guy, right?”

“What kind of question is that? Of course I am!” I scoff.

“I don’t know, I still think she should end up with Jae-eon.”

“Are you crazy? He literally leads her on like every playboy and is ruining her mentality by not defining their relationship.”

“Yeah, but they’re so cute together, and you can totally tell he feels something for her.” He argues.

“Just cause they’re cute together doesn’t mean they’re good for each other, the entire guy is a walking red flag, I don’t understand why she doesn’t just walk away when she’s had experience with a shit boyfriend.” I sigh.

“You, have major second lead syndrome.” He points an accusing finger at me.

“So what? It’s for good reason, the main lead is toxic as fuck and you can’t change my mind.” I upturn my nose, turning back to the TV and continuing to watch the episode.

The mentioning of the second lead sends a flurry of thoughts into my brain for a reason I can’t comprehend. Sometimes the main leads aren’t that bad but still we want the main character to end up with the second lead, maybe out of our own natural selfishness because we prefer the second lead more. I shake the thoughts away, trying to convince myself that kdramas were only works of fiction and too cheesy to be real, yet for whatever reason I always felt a connection with the second leads, like our emotions directed to our crushes were the same, because I knew that I would always be the second lead in Minho’s story.

Minho’s name was always called out more times than mine was growing up, which I didn’t really mind until our hangout time would be seriously cut down because he had to hang out with other friends. Don’t get me wrong, I loved that he had friends, but there was a little bit of selfishness in me that wanted him to myself.

A new drama and a few episodes later, plus Chinese takeout, lead to our eventual demise. We both fall asleep on the couch in less than comfortable positions and wake up with stiff-neck, us groaning at the pain.

We continue on with our usual morning routines, taking turns freshening up in the bathroom before heading out for breakfast at Paws and Pastries since we were both too lazy to make food ourselves. Besides, hot coffee in the morning plus good sandwiches AND cats? What more could you ask for?

When we enter the cat cafe I notice a familiar face behind the cashier, it was the same girl Seungmin was talking to on Friday, and the same girl I caught Minho staring at. We walk up to the cashier, I order my food first, a simple breakfast sandwich with a coffee to go with it and wait next to Minho to finish ordering.

I made the mistake up glancing up at his face as he was telling his order to her, Ahra, her name tag read. There was something in his eyes that glinted that I had never seen before, not when he talked to Han and not when he talked to me. I couldn’t help but feel a pang of emotion in the middle of my chest before forcing myself to look back down, inserting my card and paying for everything. I sent the girl a thank you and a kind smile after she told us our food would be right over, and both me and Minho went over to our usual table in the back corner next to the cat’s jungle gym and right up next to the window. I get lost in my thoughts while we begin playing with the cats we were so accustomed to.

Like most second leads, I knew exactly what my feelings were. I was practically an adult, how could I miss the fast beating of my heart or my clammy hands whenever I was around him? But again, like most second leads, I knew I’d never get a chance with him, not when everything we did together was purely platonic. It was painfully obvious that I’d be stuck with an unrequited love for who knows how long, and I couldn’t just detach myself from him all of a sudden to get over my feelings because a) he’d notice and force me to tell him what was wrong, ultimately leading me to tell him that I had feelings for him, and b) the moment I would come back or see him for even just a second I know I would develop those feelings all over again. Neither of which were choices I was willing to take so I suck it up and see him every day, ignoring everything my heart was telling me.

I look up from the cat that I’m petting in my lap and look at Minho again, only to find him staring at Ahra who was taking people’s orders with a perfect pearly smile. It was in that moment that I knew, I had just found the female lead of Minho’s story.

3 weeks go by in a similar manner. Minho and I see Ahra around campus a few times and with some twisted fate, she’s on the clock every time we go to Paws and Pastries. Minho, being his smooth self, easily gets himself acquainted with her. They laugh and giggle so naturally and can slip into conversation so easily I’m almost envious of Minho and his non-introverted self.

Not being one to try and stop fate, I watch it all happen. Telling Minho to ask her out already and teasing him about how lovesick he gets when he sees her nearby or at the cafe. I know Minho likes her when he blushes or gets defensive whenever I mention her in our conversations even though he’s never explicitly told me himself. I put on a face in front of him whenever these conversations come up, not wanting to get in the way of his happiness.

One day some of our friends want to meet up outside of campus, we make plans to meet up at a bowling alley, ready to have fun until the late evening hours. Seungmin brought Ahra along with him, asking if it was okay to invite her since they were friends. Everyone agrees and we all meet up as planned. When everyone gets there, including Seungmin and Ahra, we introduce ourselves, Minho not having to introduce himself and easily speaking with her like they always did whenever running into each other. All the the boys have raised brows and mischievous smiles as they watch the interaction between the two, but only one looks at me in concern.

A majority of the night passes by with laughter and teasing, how Chan was terrible at bowling this night and Minho easily beating him despite never doing too well on our previous adventures to the bowling alley. I spend the night with the rest of the boys, while Minho and Ahra spend time getting to know each other even more. There’s a point in the evening where I see Minho hold out his phone to Ahra to exchange numbers, I can hear her giggle when they take a selfie together, probably for her profile picture. I have to turn my head away quickly to ignore the cracking of my own heart when Minho puts his arm on the couch behind Ahra, he does it so naturally, yet he’s never done it with me. I will my thoughts to focus on the game and not on Minho, not noticing the same pair of concerned eyes until they speak up.

“Are you alright?” Hyunjin asks.

“Hm? Of course I am, why wouldn’t I be?” My voice cracks halfway through and I try to hide my sad eyes, even though I was fully aware that Hyunjin had probably noticed that something was up.

“‘Cause you seem pretty affected by that scene over there.” He motions to Minho and Ahra with a nod of his head.

“It’s nothing, Hyun, just nice seeing Minho talking to more people.”

“Y/n, you know he talks to people all the time, and you’re not nearly as affected then as you are now.”

“Hyunjin, really, it’s fine.” I try to convince him but he says something that lets me know that he knows.

“You like Minho.”

“What? No that’s absurd I-“ He looks at me pointedly, and I sigh in defeat. “Yeah, okay, you got me.”

“Why don’t you say anything? Clearly it hurts you to see him like that.” He refers to Minho getting cozy with her.

“Hyunjin, it’s clear that everything we have is platonic, he even called me his sister several times. And who am I to get in the way of him getting into a relationship? That’s not my place to say anything, especially when his last girlfriend was 2 years ago.”

“I get that, but shouldn’t he at least deserve to know? He says that he knows everything about you, but there’s one thing that he doesn't. You know practically everything about him, isn’t it a little unfair?”

“We have choices as to what we share with each other and what we don’t, it’s his choice to tell me what he wants to and my choice to tell him what I want to tell him. Besides, he hasn’t even told me that he has a crush on Ahra yet.”

“So maybe he doesn’t then.”

“Hyunjin, just look at him, he’s a puppy in love.” I glance back over to Minho and Ahra sitting parallel to us. Minho is smiling brightly, more brightly than I had seen in a while and I can’t help but let my lips upturn at the corners just slightly in another sad smile.

Hyunjin sighs next to me, and I look back to him. “I’m sorry y/n, I really wish he would end up with you instead of her, it doesn’t seem fair to you.”

“Hey, don’t say that, Ahra seems like a nice girl, she and Minho will get along great. And nothing in life is fair Hyunjin, that’s just something you come to accept.” I say, getting up. “I’m gonna get some drinks, does anyone want anything?” I ask everyone.

“Cola!” “Me too!” “Me three!” “A lemonade please.” A few of the boys shout back.

“Anything for you guys?” I turn to Minho and Ahra. They both shake their heads. “Okay then, I’ll be back in a minute guys.” I smile at the group before going to get the drinks.

While walking away from the group I let a teardrop fall from my eye, wiping it away just before I order.

Life’s unfair, that’s just something I have to accept.

A week goes by and Minho’s talking about how he and Ahra message often, how he thinks they get along well and he’s gonna ask her out.

Another week goes by and they’ve gone on their first date, he takes her to the beach and they have a picnic.

Two weeks after that they’ve gone on several dates and are officially boyfriend and girlfriend, I don’t even find out separately at this point, I find out with the rest of the group over dinner.

A few days after that Minho calls off one of our late night binge watching sessions, texting me an apology and that Ahra needs him. I tell him it’s okay and to send my regards to her.

It’s a week and half after and Minho regularly calls off our meetups at the cafe after school or at one another’s dorms to tend to Ahra. I tell him it’s fine each time and to not feel bad. He did the same today, and I sit alone at our usual table, mindlessly petting a cat in my lap while zoning out into in my mug of coffee.

All while this happens, I watch, and I let it happen. I don’t fight for him because it didn’t feel right, sometimes second leads let their love fall for someone else, and that’s all it felt like I could do.

Fighting for Minho felt selfish, especially when I knew I had no chance and he’d already fallen for Ahra. I couldn’t suddenly come out of the blue and tell him “hey, I have feelings for you,” when he’s already dating Ahra, I’d look like a major asshole if I did. All I could do was watch and see how we begun to drift farther and farther apart.

With Minho being absent more often, I don’t get to tell him much. Like the internship offer I got to continue pursuing graphic design in Itaewon. I got the email almost a week ago, and I had two more weeks to decide if I was going to take the offer. With nobody to consult about it with I continue to push it to the back of my mind, not wanting to deal with more stress just yet.

Just as I’m taking another sip of my coffee a familiar head of long blonde hair enters the cafe. My head tilts to the side in confusion as he scans the room for someone when he meets eyes with me, he makes his way over and sits in the seat in front of me and doesn’t say anything.

“You’re rarely on this side of town, why are you here?” I ask Hyunjin first.

“I heard something from Ms. Kim in our art class and needed to know if it was true.” He says seriously.

“What…” I feel like I know what he’s going to say, but I ask anyways. “What did you hear?”

“That you were offered an internship in Itaewon.”

“Hyunjin I-“

“Is it really true? She said you had two more weeks to decide, how come you haven’t told anybody? Does Minho know? Are you gonna leave? What about-” He begins to spurt out question after question and it’s almost too much for me to handle.

“Hyunjin!” I raise my voice just slightly to get him to stop but I have to turn it down again when the volume of my voice makes a few of the other customers’ heads turn. “Calm down, yes it’s true, yes I have two more weeks to decide if I’m going or not, I didn’t know how I would tell any of you, no, Minho doesn’t know and I don’t plan on telling him.”

“Are you… Are you gonna take the offer?” He asks slowly.

I prop my elbows onto the table as the cat leaves my lap and my head drops into my hands as I sigh in exasperation. “I don’t know.” Tears are gathering in my eyes as I think about it.

“Y/n, have you thought about the offer at all?”

“Yes and no.” I don’t need to lift my head to sense Hyunjin’s confusion. “It’s hard to think about it when you’re watching your crush of 2 years date someone else while you’re also trying to finish up your senior year. But it’s also all I can think about when I’m alone, which I find myself a lot, thinking about having to find a place to live in Itaewon and transfer and mentally prepare to leave you all here, but if I don’t take it then it’ll be even harder to find an offer like this. It’s all I can think about and also something that I can’t bring myself to think about, Hyunjin.” I lift my head and my teary eyes meet his own.

“Y/n…” His voice breaks saying my name.

“I think I’m going to take it.” I pause. “Once I finish all of my final assignments the only thing I have left to really worry about is graduating and finding a job, and I don’t think I can take watching Minho and Ahra anymore Hyun, I don’t think I can stomach it. I’m happy for them, I truly am, but it’s also affecting me and I don’t think I should ignore that anymore. If I’m in Itaewon I have a job and I won’t have to worry about feelings anymore, two birds with one stone.”

I see the hesitancy in Hyunjin’s facial expressions before he speaks. “If that’s what you think you should do, then I’ll support you all the way. But shouldn’t you tell Minho about this?”

“I’m not, because if I do, Minho is gonna find some way to get me to stay and I’ll crumble and stay because he affects me the most.” Hyunjin merely nods in response. “Hyunjin, you are the only one that can know about this, okay? I can’t have everyone else know this, especially Minho, okay?”

Hesitation again, and then, “Okay.”

Hyunjin keeps his promise, he keeps the secret of me leaving from everyone. Even as graduation inches closer and our group begins to talk more about job searching, what comes next, and similar topics, the two of us keep it a secret. Whenever they asked me what I was thinking of doing next I always just told them “oh probably looking for internships nearby,” and no more questions are asked.

Minho and Ahra were still very much in love, even more than before, if the growing absence of Minho’s presence was anything to go by. I barely saw Minho anymore, maybe catching him at the end of the hall every once in awhile, but he was always walking with Ahra so all I could say was “hello” and “goodbye.”

Each goodbye begun to hold more and more weight as the days passed. Even the short ones I would tell Minho after passing him in the halls. I couldn’t even conjure how I would tell everyone, maybe send a letter to each of their places? A text message? Tell them after the graduation ceremony just before I left for the train station? I thought about how I would say goodbye as I begun to pack up my dorm. Graduation was nearing, I had already turned in all of my final assignments, and all there was left was to pack. I would leave after the ceremony ended, sometime in the afternoon. I wouldn’t even get the chance to properly celebrate being graduates with my friends because I was leaving in the afternoon. I’d get situated in my new apartment in Itaewon and get accustomed to new life outside of Gimpo.

The thought of leaving panged my heart harshly, I had never left Gimpo permanently before. Sure, I had gone on trips to the US and Singapore and Seoul before, but I had never moved from Gimpo. I was born and raised in Gimpo, met Minho and all of our friends here, so the thought of moving for the first time did something to my heart. I attended all of our group hangouts with a nostalgic mindset, remembering the first time we all met, when we all got wasted one time on a Friday night after some big exam week. I look around our table of friends and think about how much I’ll miss all of this when I leave for Itaewon.

Another thing that panged my heart, Minho and I distancing. I knew it was coming, Minho and I didn’t text or talk about hanging out anymore. He walked Ahra to her classes now, and had dates with her after class instead of meeting me at our cafe. Eventually I stopped getting apology messages, and stopped expecting him at the cafe anymore. I couldn’t blame him, Ahra was his girlfriend and I accepted that long ago. Instead I just played the supportive friend on the sidelines, and I’d continue to play that role for as long as I had to.

It came to be the night before we graduated, and all of us minus Minho and Ahra were sat around a table in one of the restaurants we frequented, it wasn’t too late in the evening, and we all just sat in silence after finishing our food with bottles and glasses of soju now sitting in front of us. A majority of our meal was full of reminiscing, talking about memories that crack everyone up and left smiles on our faces.

“So, we really graduate tomorrow, huh?” Changbin says when the table quiets down.

“Yeah, I guess we do.” Chan says quietly.

My eyes tear up and I begin to sniff without control, the weight of my department tomorrow weighing heavily on my shoulders. Hyunjin puts an arm around my shoulders and gives me a tissue, whispering “it’s okay, it’s okay” to me while I try to calm down.

Everyone looks at me in confusion before Chan speaks first. “Y/n are you okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, I just…” I trail off, not sure what to say.

“Do you want to tell them?” Hyunjin asks softly.

“Tell us what?” Seungmin says this time.

Hyunjin looks to me first before nodding, and I begin to spill my secret. “I got an internship offer.”

The table erupts in cheers and I get congratulations thrown back at me before I can even continue.

“But…” Immediately everyone silences and looks to me in expectation. “It’s in Itaewon.”

There’s a tense air that falls around us. “What?” Felix says in disbelief.

“You’re not leaving us, right Noona?” Jeongin asks from another part of the table.

I look to Jeongin with sad eyes, smiling sadly. “I leave tomorrow, after our graduation ceremony.” There’s some gasps around the table.

“What?! Y/n, why didn’t you tell us sooner?” Changbin blows up and Chan has to place a hand on his shoulder to restrain him.

“I didn’t want every time we met leading up to graduation to feel like a goodbye, Bin, I couldn’t handle that. So I kept it from you all so there wasn’t this tension every time we met.” I explained.

“Does Minho know?” Seungmin asks this time, and I shake my head.

“Y/n…” Han says worriedly.

“Guys, I know I’m not the only one that’s noticed that me and Minho aren’t that close anymore, so I haven’t really gotten the chance to tell him. But I told Hyunjin this a long time ago, that I wouldn’t tell Minho specifically, because there’s some things that I need to figure out and if I told him he’d find some way to keep me from going, or even worse, follow me. At least with Ahra by his side he won’t follow me to Itaewon.” There’s nods all around the table, understanding where I’m coming from.

“We’re gonna miss you a lot.” Felix sniffs and I coo, getting up from my seat to wrap my arms around him from behind.

“I’m gonna miss you all too.” I sniff with him, a few tears escaping my eyes.

Chan comes to join our hug, then Han, then Jeongin, and soon enough everyone has joined the group hug with me in the middle. All of us are crying, and I had never felt more loved than that moment.

Eventually we break away from the hug and return to our seats, everyone dabbing at their eyes with tissues and sniffing.

“Let’s all stop crying, tonight is a night to celebrate, all of us graduate tomorrow, and our dear Y/n got an internship offer in a big city!” Han holds up a drink and we all do the same, cheering and clinking our glasses together and celebrating the night away.

The next morning I get ready for graduation early, putting on my makeup and doing my hair, and sending a message.

to: [cat dad who’s a leech :D]

hey, can you meet me at p&p in thirty?

My heart picks up the pace as I send the message, I didn’t expect him to answer so quickly yet his message pings my phone within 2 minutes.

from: [cat dad who’s a leech :D]

sure, i can be there

to: [cat dad who’s a leech :D]

sweet, i’ll see you there

I turn my phone off and take a deep breath, we still had a few hours before we had to be at the school for our graduation ceremony, I’d have to leave just a few minutes after the ceremony ended which wouldn’t give me enough time to tell Minho, so, I made the painful decision the night before to tell him in the morning. I’d do it in our favorite spot in the corner of our favorite cat cafe, tell him the news slowly and hope that he takes it well.

I leave my house and 15 minutes later I’m in our usual booth, my coffee order sitting in front of me and the cats all wandering around as there weren’t too many people since it was relatively early in the morning. I already bought Minho his typical Iced Americano and it sat in front of me, awaiting it’s owner.

10 minutes later Minho arrives and makes his way to the table, sitting in front of me, smiling, unknowing of what’s about to happen.

“Hey.” I smile at him.

“Hey you.” He smiles back brightly. “Sorry I couldn’t see you guys last night, I took Ahra out for dinner last night on a date.”

“It’s completely alright, how are you guys?”

“Pretty good, things are going okay right now.” He answers.

“That’s good.” Nervously I take a sip of my macchiato in front of me, my leg bouncing in anxiety.

“Y/n? Is everything alright? Your leg’s bouncing pretty fast right now.” Curse Minho and the fact that he knows so much about me, he reaches out for my wrist and checks my pulse, quickly noticing how fast it’s beating as his brows furrow in confusion.

“Minho, there’s something I need to tell you.” I say, retracting my wrist from his grip. He doesn’t answer me but instead tilts his head like a cat does when it looks at its owner questionably. “I’m leaving.”

“What?” He asks.

How could one look so endearing, head tilted and eyes full of emotion as I break the news to him? I ask myself. “I got an internship offer for a company in Itaewon, I accepted it and I’m leaving for Itaewon, today.”

“You’re leaving today?” He says in disbelief, sounding out of breath.

I nod and continue. “After the graduation today I have to catch my bus. I didn’t have any other time to tell you so I had to tell you now.”

“You’re… You’re just telling me now? Do the others know about this?”

“I only told them last night.”

“You couldn’t have thought of telling me sooner?” He starts to get angry.

“Minho I-“

“What happened to telling me everything, huh? What happened to when we used to know everything about each other?”

“Minho, those days are long behind us, you have bigger priorities now, like putting your focus on your girlfriend, Minho. I couldn’t tell you because I knew you’d do something rash, and I didn’t even tell the others until last night because I knew every time we’d see each other it would be like preparing for the day I leave. You and Ahra have something so great going on for the two of you right now and telling you that I was leaving would take you away from that, and I can’t do that to you or her. Ahra is an amazing girl, and you have her now.”

“Will you at least visit?” His eyes are full of tears, some of the first I’ve seen in years and I hate that I’m the cause of it.

“I don’t know yet, there’s some things I need to figure out myself first, before I can visit. But at some point maybe I will, when I’ve figured things out I’ll try visiting from time to time.” I offer him a sad smile.

After a few moments of silence I get up from my seat.

“We still have a graduation left, Min, I’ll still see you then.” I ruffle his hair and walk out of the cafe, no more secrets but one weighing down on my chest.

The Graduation ceremony passes by in a blur. One moment we were listening to the speeches of each of the professors and the next we were tossing our caps into the air, cheering as we became alumni of our university.

Our friend group met up in the front of the school, taking pictures with our parents and congratulating each other. Eventually, the time comes and I have to go.

Our group stands in a circle, unmoving, as we all look at each other.

“I’m gonna miss all of you so much.” I say in tears as my voice breaks.

“We’re gonna miss you too, Y/n.” Hyunjin says. At his words everyone gathers into a group hug full of tears and the weight of a goodbye on our shoulders.

“You better promise to visit us, okay?” Felix holds me by the shoulders and makes a point to look me in the eye. Not trusting my voice, I nod and he brings me into one more hug.

I hug each of them individually, saying a few words, before I reach the last person.

I hug Minho and look into his eyes for the last time for a while.

“I’ll miss you.” He whispers.

“Me too.” And that’s all I can say.

I leave the campus for the last time, hopping in my car to head to the station and start anew.

Second leads always leave in the end, they leave and let the two main leads have a happy ending. That’s what it felt like I was doing, and I couldn’t tell if I was content with my choice or not.

Two and a half months in Itaewon passes quickly.

The move into my new apartment was smooth, and it was odd to be in a bigger space than a small dorm room. It felt like I had more space than I knew what to do with.

My internship was moving along smoothly as well, everyone I had met so far were really kind and taught me a lot. I was worried about feeling out of place but I had met a few other girls not much older than me who helped me feel at home.

Being alone in a big city was unnerving, but what made it so much more comfortable was the addition of a cat that my parents had bought me as my graduation gift. She was a chartreux cat who I named Luna because I had always dreamed of naming my first cat that. My parents covered most of the costs of basic things like cat toys, a scratch post, her bed, and similar things. I thanked my parents endlessly when they came over to my apartment a week after I had moved in and gave me Luna. I wasn’t gone for too long during the day and always left food for her, she was great company when I came home and worked on projects late into the evening, curling up into my lap like the cats at the old cafe used to. She was my best friend in a city I was still getting accustomed to.

I hadn’t talked to the guys much, I’d talked with them a few times in the group chat about how their job searches were going and trips they were planning to take soon. It was nice talking with them every so often but all of us were still pretty busy moving onto the next chapter of our lives.

I hadn’t talked to Minho since I left, I’d assumed that he and Ahra were doing well, but that’s all that was, assumption. None of the boys talked about him and I couldn’t understand why, but I never asked since I was supposed to be moving on from my feelings in the first place. I thought I had been doing pretty well until something would come up that reminded me of him, like his favorite song would play in the cafe I bought my morning coffee in and spent my breaks at, or snapchat would send me “Today, 1 year ago” memories of him and me fooling around at Paws and Pastries. Whenever that would happen I’d be sent back to square one, and it felt like I’d never move on from Minho.

I was on my way out to grab a coffee and spend my off day walking around, maybe looking into a few shops when I got a call from Hyunjin.

“Y/n! My favorite girl, how are you?”

“Hyunjin? What’s with the call?”

“What? Can I not call my friends from time to time?”

“Not when you’re notorious for calling your ‘friends’ after you’ve done something wrong.” I sigh.

“That was one time! Besides, it wasn’t that bad.”

“You dragged Jeongin to a party! And got him wasted!”

“One. Time. Y/n. It was one time.”

“One time is enough for you to be in trouble for life, Hyun.”

“Okay, whatever, but I was meaning to ask you, what’re your plans for today?”

“Me? I was just planning to go out, today’s my day off so I was gonna visit this one cafe and see some shops, why?”

“No reason, what time do you think you’ll be home?”

“Maybe five?”

“Great, okay, I have to go now, Han’s calling me, bye!” Hyunjin hangs up before I can ask him what’s with the weird questions.

“Hyunjin- Oh great he hung up.” I put my phone in my pocket before looking down at Luna who’s stretching near my legs. “Your uncle Hyunjin is quite the odd one, isn’t he Luna, hm?” I ask her and she meows back in response. “Weird indeed, but that’s just how he is. Mommy’s gonna spend her day out and then she’ll come home and we can watch the TV together, okay? I’ll be home soon.” I pick up Luna and set her on her little bed before ensuring everything is safe and make my way out the door.

I spend the day eating at a large cat cafe that actually had an assortment of books with little reading areas while the cats roamed around everywhere. It was much bigger than the cafe in Gimpo, but I would always correlate that one with home.

After I spent a bit of time reading there I went out and explored the shops for a few hours, bought some new jeans and a few blouses plus some makeup things. I got Subway for lunch and explored just a little bit more before heading home. Instead of going straight home, I decided to take the long way, going through the streets not minding the extra weight the few shopping bags I was holding in my hands gave me. The sun was just barely beginning to set as I walked into my apartment complex, getting into the elevator and pressing the button for my floor.

I walk down the hallway to my door and am surprised when a familiar figure greets me there.

“Minho?” I say as I walk closer.

“Y/n!” He says happily, bringing me into a hug.

“What are you doing here? Actually- Wait- Don’t answer that, do you wanna come inside?” I ask him.

“Sure.” He responds.

I unlock the door and bring my bags in, setting them by the door. “Luna! Mommy’s home!” I call out automatically.

Luna meows and comes out of the bedroom, walking her way up to me before I pick her up.

“You got a cat?” Minho asks.

“Yeah, parents brought her to me about a week after I moved in.” I put Luna back down and she moves to sit on the arm of the couch, her favorite spot to sit when the sun goes down.

“And you named her Luna,” He smiles fondly. “You always wanted to name your cat Luna.”

“I’m surprised you remember that.” I chuckle. “Do you want some coffee?”

“Sure.”

“I’ll get that brewing, just give me a few minutes, you can take a seat on the couch and make yourself at home!” I tell him as I quickly retreat to the kitchen.

I have to take a few breaths when I’m far away enough from Minho, my heart beating just as fast as it would when I was around him back then. It was clear I hadn’t moved on at all.

I brew the coffee as promised and wait next to the coffee machine with two mugs ready. A voice chimes in behind me.

“Your place is much bigger than the dorms.” He chuckles.

“Tell me about it, it was so weird buying more furniture than I was used to.” I laugh with him.

The machine finishes brewing the coffee and I pour it into the two mugs, putting it on a tray with creamer and sugar before bringing it all to the coffee table in front of the couch.

Minho and I take seats on the couch, separated by a bit of space between us while we sip on our respective mugs.

“So,” I start the conversation. “How’s home?”

“Not too bad, same old same old, the guys being annoying as usual, you know?” He says.

“Sounds fun.” I chuckle. “And work, have you found anything yet?”

“Not yet, I’ve got a few applications out, but I’m still waiting on some answers.”

“I’m sure you’ll get them soon.” I respond.

An uncomfortable silence sets over the both of us, and I run my free hand through Luna’s fur who’s situated herself in my lap this time. I take a long sip of my coffee before asking another question.

“How’s… How are you and Ahra?”

“Oh…” He trails off. “We broke up a few weeks ago.”

“I’m sorry to hear that…” I had no idea that he and Ahra had broken up, in fact that was the completely opposite of what I thought had happened since they seemed to work together so well.

“Yeah, it was a mutual thing. We didn’t really feel that kind of connection anymore, you know? So we just, broke it off.”

“Are you okay?” I ask Minho.

“Me? Yeah, I’m actually not as affected as I thought I’d be, I don’t know if that makes me a cruel person or not but I was only sad for the first week or two. Nothing too bad.”

“I see.” Another silence settles between us. This one is longer, more tense, there was something Minho wanted to ask but he wasn’t sure, and I couldn’t depict what question he was going to ask.

“Actually, I came her for a reason.” He says.

“And what reason is that?” I ask hesitantly.

“For answers.” My brows furrow, answers for what? “There’s something Hyunjin told me recently and it got me thinking, and I wanted to hear it from you if it was true.”

I finish my coffee and place it down delicately on the coffee table, trying not to show how nervous I was with how badly my hands were shaking. “I’ll see if I have answers for you then.”

“When you told me you were leaving, you said you had some, things, to figure out on your own. What was it that you had to figure out?”

I take a moment to decide exactly how I was going to answer his question. Did I want to expose my feelings to him just yet? “Just, feelings.” I say vaguely.

“For?”

“Just feelings for somebody.”

“Is it Hyunjin?”

“No.”

“Chan?”

“Nope.”

“Changbin?”

“Nuh-uh.”

“Me?”

I pause for just a half second, and apparently that was all Minho needed. “I guess Hyunjin’s big mouth was right after all.”

“Wait- What? What are you talking about?”

Minho takes a long sip of his coffee before finishing letting out a sigh after swallowing, he slowly sets the mug on the table before making direct eye contact with me and silently killing me with the suspense. “Minho please just say something you’re killing me here.”

He only chuckles in response. “Hyunjin told me not too long ago that you took up the offer to work here because you were going to sort out your feelings, for me.” He says sweetly as I suck in a breath at his last words.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about Minho-“

“Now now, Y/n, we shouldn’t hide things from each other anymore, should we?” His sweet, sultry voice was affecting me greatly as he leaned closer to me on the couch. I gulp and silently curse when Luna, the only thing keeping me sane, leaves the comfort of my lap for her scratch-post.

“Minho…” I let out quietly.

“Tell me, Kitten, is it true?” He asks once again.

“I-“ My voice catches in my throat when Minho leans in ever nearer, still making direct eye-contact with me. “Yes, it is.” I sigh out and Minho backs away.

“He was right.” Minho whispers while my gaze drops to my hands that I fiddle with in my lap at the secret that’s let out. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I’m sorry.” I whisper.

“Why are you sorry darling?” He asks softly and uses his thumb and forefinger to tilt my head up by my chin.

“I couldn’t tell you because I knew you didn’t feel the same, and then when you got together with Ahra we drifted apart because it hurt me to see you with her. Then I left and told you about me leaving so last minute. I made you cry, Minho, and I hate that I did. But I couldn’t see any other way out of it. I hurt you because I was cowardly and didn’t want to be selfish by telling you and having your attention move off of Ahra, when I was really being selfish by not telling you and hurting you in the end.” More tears escape my eyes as we look at each other.

“Princess, no…” He cups my face with his hands and uses his thumbs to wipe away my tears. “I’ll admit, it did hurt when you told me that you were leaving the day of, but I understood where you were coming from. Because you were right, I would have done something crazy to keep you by my side. Do you know why?” He asks, and I shake my head, still crying. “Because I need you by my side, kitten, even when I was dating Ahra I felt off but just didn’t pay any mind to it because I had her. But now I know it’s because you and I were drifting apart, I found out when after you left and me and Ahra broke up because I felt empty. I couldn’t text you to just come over anymore because you’re farther away from me now. I lied earlier, I said that I sent out some applications for jobs but didn’t get any answers yet, right?” I nod. “I got offered a job as a software engineer, here, in Itaewon, and I said yes.”

“Why?” I whisper.

“Because I want to be near you, I need to be by your side Y/n, because I love you.” I let out a sob at his confession and he coos, bringing me to rest my head on his chest and rubbing his hands on my back and running them through my hair.

“I love you too.” I say after a few minutes.

Minho brings me out of his hold, and cups my face again. For the first time, he kisses me. His lips brush over mine before deepening the kiss, taking full charge of it yet somehow still being soft with me. His kisses were nothing short of addicting, and I knew I’d be in love with him for a long time.

In that moment, kissing the man of my dreams, I remember that it may be rare that a second lead gets their own happy ending, but it’s not unheard of. Sometimes the main lead and second lead do end up with their own happily ever after.

Notes from the author: I have FINALLY posted something y’all 😂 took a few months but she’s here, and she’s dishing out something at least. I don’t know how often I’ll be posting again, esp with school and whatnot, but I do know I need to drain out my drafts because phew, it’s getting a little full in there.

But anyways, I hope you enjoyed this fic! I’m pretty sure it’s one of the longest I’ve written if not the longest. Hopefully it wasn’t too bad, I’m probably a little rusty but we can fix that (i think)

if you want more I still have my old stuff up on my masterlist on my account! hope to see you around :))

-nyx

#skz ff #skz fluff #skz fanfic #skz fanfiction #stray kids fanfiction #minho fluff #skz minho fluff #skz angst #yOU KNOW I KNOW LEE KNOW #skz lee know #lee know #lee know x y/n #tags are annoying sigh #lee minho fanfiction #stray kids scenarios #stray kids fic #stray kids fluff #stray kids angst

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tropes-and-tales · 3 years

Text

Heaven on Earth, Part Three

Characters: Pero Tovar and F!Reader

WC: 4632

Other Pieces: This is part of a miniseries. Pero Tovar masterlist found here.

CW: Language.

AN: Historically inaccurate, but no more so than the movie, and since I’m not a paid writer, I refuse* to feel bad about it.

(* I feel a little bit bad about it.)

________________

Pero still felt his debt to you, irritating him like a rash. But he also remembered what you had told him – that a life was priceless, and that saving a life was a debt no one could repay.

He knew there’d be moments of misunderstanding when he moved to the village. He had traveled the entire known world in his life as a mercenary, and every place had different customs. The worshipers of Mohammed did things one way, the Bohemians did them another way. Across the expanse of the Holy Roman Empire, customs varied from region to region, and the civilizations of the Far East were unique too.

But Pero had been like one of those fish that stayed near the surface of the water, only skimming along any place for a short time and never diving any deeper. Until now, in this village where he hoped to lay down roots. It would behoove him to understand the culture here.

And that included how to settle debts with a certain girl-healer who only recently revealed herself to be feistier than he would have thought.

What had you said to him? If you want to show your appreciation, give me some grain from your harvest, or some eggs from your chickens, or cut some firewood for my hearth.

Well, Pero’s fields weren’t ready to harvest yet – the tender green tendrils had only just pushed through the soil, so grain would be a while in coming. He didn’t have chickens yet – he only had his horse at the moment. He had nothing to give you, especially since you threw his gold back at him.

All he had was the strength in his arms, the skill in his hands. Surely women living alone could have need for both.

*****

The first time it happened, you thought you were just temporarily mad, a bit of lunacy brought on by too much work and too little sleep. There were a number of women nearing their confinement in the village, and you and your mother were both busy.

You came home late one morning – after spending an entire night aiding on a difficult birth. Your eyelids felt as though they were weighted down with lead, and every bit of you ached. You thought of the chores that still waited for you, the other women about to birth their babes that would need you…your mind boggled at the work in front of you.

So engrossed in thought, you nearly tripped over the bucket near your cottage’s door. The top was covered with a piece of waxed linen, and when you pulled it back gingerly, you saw that it was full of milk. You dipped a cautious finger in, tasted it. Goat’s milk. Then you cocked your head and listened – you didn’t hear the pained bleating of your small flock that you had expected, neglected as they had been overnight.

That was probably the first instance, but at the time, you had assumed it was your cousin who had milked the goats for you. Your tired mind never even wondered why she would have left the pail outside instead of bringing it inside.

But then other things happened. Your cousin noticed, and your mother too. It felt like maybe you had a friendly house sprite, helping while you and your mother tended to the ailments of the village.

There was the broken rail of fencing, fixed. There was the bundle of spring onions thinned from your garden so that the rest could grow, set neatly by the door where the pail of milk had been. There was – oddly, sweetly – a branch from an apple tree, the blossoms barely opened. You put it into an earthenware vase of water and smelled their crisp scent for days while you ground herbs and made tisanes.

“I would ask the priest for a blessing on the home,” your mother said once. “But it seems our haunting is a benevolent one.”

You didn’t think it was a ghost or a sprite or any sort of bogart or brownie. People in the village helped out all of the time: the village healer was never wealthy, but she also never starved. You assumed it was some grateful first-time father, driven to kindness by the sounds of his babe’s first lusty cries, ushered into the world by your mother and you.

It was early morning when the mystery was solved, and it wasn’t a thankful new father at all. The sound pulled you from your deep sleep, the rhythmic thuds of an axe making good work against wood. Still in your shift, you climbed carefully out of the bed you shared with your cousin, and you went to the small glazed window at the back of the house. Your mother, dressed for the day, was already standing there.

“Here’s our helpful spirit,” she said as she turned a little to greet you. You came to stand beside her, and she wound an arm around you, pulled you close to her as she had since you were a child. You were taller than her now, so you laid your head on her shoulder and gazed out of the window.

“It looks like it’s just a man after all,” you said sleepily. “Not a sprite.” You couldn’t see his face, but you could see the strong muscles of his back as they rippled and flexed with each powerful swing of his axe.

“I don’t think I know him,” your mother remarked, and as you woke up, it dawned on you who it was. You couldn’t see his face, but you could see the back of his head – the dark hair that curled near the collar. The same dark hair that you had brushed away, soaked with sweat, during a particularly strong fever.

For some reason, it made a flush raise to your face, and you pressed your head deeper into your mother’s shoulder. “It’s the stranger who took over the Beauchamp farm,” you mumbled.

“The one with the Devil’s weed?”

You gave a grunt of affirmation.

Your mother tightened her arm around your waist, gave a playful squeeze. “He must be especially pleased with your talents as a healer then.”

“He doesn’t understand our ways yet,” you protested, your face growing warmer at her teasing.

She turned and pressed a gentle kiss to the top of your head, then released you. “Well, our ways include hospitality. Get dressed and offer the man something cool to drink. It’s already warm, and he’s split enough firewood to last us two winters.”

*****

Pero would have been fine with you never approaching him – word in the village was that you and your mother were especially busy with births and illness and injury – but when you walked up to him as he split firewood, he felt the uneasy jolt in his heart that more experienced men would recognize as love. You looked as though you had just woken up: your face was rosy and clean-scrubbed, and your hair was neatly braided.

You didn’t smile at him, though. You had a small frown on your face.

“It bruised,” you said without preamble, and Pero cocked his head at you in confusion until you gestured to your own forehead. “I left a bruise.”

He reached up and prodded at the mark your deceptively strong arm had left. It had been a sizeable lump that had shrank down into a purple bruise.

“I came to this village to find peace from war and fighting,” he said in a tone that he hoped sounded jesting. “And instead, I got accosted by a healer’s apprentice.”

It made your frown disappear as a small smile twitched in its place. “I did heal you first though. The accosting came later.”

“And I’ve been working off the debt to that healing,” he said, gesturing at the neat stack of logs along the side of the cottage. “But are you indebted to me now for this head injury?”

You shook your head. “You’ve done too much already, Master Tovar. I fear that we’ll be going back and forth like a pair of haggling merchants, who owes what to the other.”

That didn’t sound terrible to Pero at all. He would happily haggle with you as long as he could if it meant even little moments like this. Someone to talk to until his voice was no longer rusty from disuse. Someone to smile at him, tease him a little. Someone to fill his reserves with human kindness to get him through his dark nights alone, haunted as they were with memories of his life as a sell-sword.

A wild thought occurred to him, and the words were spilling out of his traitorous mouth before he could even talk himself out of it. To your credit, you only tilted your head in that way you had, your eyes curious as you watched him stammer through his question.

“You know this place,” he said, and his tongue felt thick and unwieldy in his mouth as he tried to form the words. “It’s your home. Maybe you could…help me understand the place?”

You stared at him a moment before nodding slowly. “So you can feel at home here?”

He bobbed his head eagerly. “I could help you and your mother, do chores for you. And – “

“And in exchange, I teach you about the customs of our sleepy little village in the mountains?” Your smile widened. “It’d be a short education, Master Tovar. There’s isn’t much to learn.”

“Pero,” he corrected you. “You can call me Pero.”

You laughed at that. “Well, then the first lesson. We use honorable titles for everyone but family. So you’ll remain Master Tovar to me. And the second lesson?” You turned and glanced over your shoulder. “The people here are ravenous for gossip, and you’re their favorite topic. My mother would have you come inside for some refreshments, and be warned: everything you tell her will be repeated to every other goodwife by the time the sun sets.”

*****

At first, you thought Pero would have preferred to learn the customs of your village from young Walther, but you knew the boy – he was tight-lipped and rarely spoke. He had the darting, hunted eyes of a youngest child who often had to fight for scraps of food, of affection, in his busy family.

And since Pero didn’t seem to know anyone else well enough, it made sense that he’d ask you.

The deeper mystery was why you agreed to it. You were busy, desperately so: you had your work as a healer, your garden of healing herbs. You helped your brother in his bakery when you could. You had little time to catch your breath, let alone help a stranger understand his new life here.

Half of the time, the man fixed you with dark looks – you caught him more than once, staring at you with an expression on his face that looked nearly malevolent. But other times, he made weak jokes, pulled his face into a grimace that looked like his version of a smile.

Why did you help him? Your mother accused you of being too soft-hearted. As a child, you had brought home every injured animal you found – a bird with a broken wing, an abandoned nest of baby rabbits. Your mare had been saved from an auction for slaughter, abused for an entire lifetime until you had traded hard-earned coin for the sway-backed beast.

Maybe Pero was the same. Maybe you were soft-hearted for men too.

There was a galling little whisper in the back of your mind, a tickling voice that offered another theory. You think of him as “Pero,” the voice said as you lay in bed at night. You don’t think of him as “Master Tovar.”

Of course not, you thought back irritably, arguing with your own thoughts like a madwoman. Why would I bother to think out the honorable title in my own thoughts?

Of course, the voice whispered mockingly. It has nothing to do with how he sheds his shirt to split firewood, how well-formed his arms look swinging the axe.

You didn’t bother to argue with that, instead rolling over with a huff, punching the thin pillow of goose feathers into shape before falling off into an uneasy sleep where you dreamt of the dark, scowling man, as you often did nowadays.

*****

You had understated your knowledge: over the months, you taught Pero more than you probably realized. In exchange for firewood, small repairs to your cottage – you helped him sink his roots deeper into his peaceful life.

“Devil’s weed,” you told him once as you walked the edge of his lower field with him. “You cut it in the winter and burn it.” You paused and laid a hand on his arm, making his blood spike at the innocent touch. “Stay upwind of the smoke, though. It will make your head ache otherwise. In the spring, when it starts to grow again, a goat will make short work of it.”

“I don’t have goats,” he replied, and he clenched his fist against the urge to lay his own hand over yours. To touch you.

But you dropped your hold on him a moment later. “You should get some. They keep troublesome weeds at bay.” You resumed your strolling pace. “Master Chenery often has extra that he’s willing to part with for a reasonable price. Though his flock tends to birth twins, so the birthing season can be difficult.”

“I would need a midwife for the goats then. My debts to you would only increase.”

It made you laugh, which made Pero smile. It was easier now, joking with you, and he loved reliving these little moments, your merriment echoing in his ears.

-----

Another time, in the forest that both of your properties edged against. You imparted so much wisdom on him that his head spun – all of the food-stuff he could forage without breaking a single bit of dirt with his plow. The mushrooms, the greens, the hearty roots of the cattails that grew around water. The entire land seemed to teem with food, a far cry from his childhood in Salamanca. He had fought his siblings for a rind of cheese, a crust of bread. A child here could just stroll into the woods and help himself to a feast.

“Here,” you said, and he turned from his unhappy memories to see you standing beside him, your palm outstretched. It was cupped around a handful of small, red berries.

“They’re sweet,” you added, and it was the same quickening of his heartbeat when his hand brushed against yours, cupped his own palm so that you could place the berries there.

-----

Yet another time, you handing him a tankard of small ale after he helped mend the shingled roof of your springhouse.

“My cousin is to be married in a week,” you told him.

He grunted non-committedly at that. He had met your cousin a few times, a doe-eyed slip of a girl who squeaked in fear when he had introduced himself. It had set him on the path of a furious mood until you waved her off and made some gentle joke that had soothed him.

“The entire village usually attends the feast,” you continued. “People bring what they can.”

It was the same problem as the issue of his debt to you: Pero had nothing to give yet. He had a small flock of goats now, thanks to your guidance, and a pair of querulous geese that gifted him two eggs every morning. His orchards had flowered but the fruit was small and green. His fields were fertile but not golden and ripe yet.

You seemed able to read his mind sometimes, or maybe it was just his usual concern. “Some of the men in the village are helping her betrothed finish the home he is building,” you said off-handedly. “I imagine they’d enjoy an extra pair of hands.”

Pero didn’t think he’d enjoy it, but he went all the same. He spent part of a golden afternoon hammering wooden shakes to the sides of the small, trim home, mostly grumbling when the other men tried to draw him out. Still, when it was finished, he joined them in a drink or two of ale, and he still had the bright promise of the wedding feast ahead of him: an entire evening with you.

That the rest of the village would be there too hardly mattered.

-----

The village only turned out for the feast, you had told Pero. The marriage ceremony itself was only for family, which suited him just fine. Pero hated the droning of priestly Latin.

He arrived to the feast early, and he tugged anxiously at his shirt. It was the best one he owned, woven from fine Egyptian cotton, traded somewhere in Arabia with a merchant for a bit a light guard work. He had worn it once to a brothel, and the woman he paid for had remarked that it looked comely on him. He grimaced at his own stupid hope that you’d think the same thing.

It took far too long to get to you. He saw you arrive with your family – your mother, a handsome woman with grey shot through her hair. A group of tall men that he knew were your brothers. Their wives and children. And your cousin, the slip of a girl, with her new husband. Then the feast, when all sat to eat, interrupted now and again by boisterous toasts by the bride’s and groom’s friends and family.

But finally the formality of the dining ended, and the men pushed the tables to the edges of the square, and the feast gave way to music and dancing. And finally, Pero could seek you out.

You were sitting alone on a low bench, tapping your toe in the dirt to the tempo of the music as you watched the dancers. At his approach, you looked up at him and gifted him that brilliant smile, and he felt his stomach twist as it always did around you. You patted the empty space on the bench beside you in invitation, and he sat down.

“Would you like another lesson, Master Tovar?” you asked, and he recognized the teasing lilt in your voice. “Everyone in the village is here. I can tell you who everyone is.”

He mumbled out that yes, he’d love to learn who was who in the village, so you laughed and did just that, pointing out people on the sly and giving him every bit of salient gossip about them. His eyes followed your pointing, but then they always returned to your face. You were animated as you described your neighbors, your eyes sparkling with delight. You wore your hair different too, mostly down and loose with only the sides pulled up into a small braid. There were flowers woven into the plait, and thanks to your previous instruction, Pero could identify about half of them.

“That’s Master DuPont,” you told him, and you leaned in a little closer to him, your voice a near-whisper. “He owns the grist-mill, but you must watch him when he weighs out the flour. He has a clumsy habit of putting his thumb on the scale.”

On and on, you gifted Pero the knowledge of your – now his – neighbors. The other farmers, the huntsmen, the merchants and craftsmen. You gave him the genealogy of each, which daughter married which son, all the ways that families in a small town became intertwined. In truth, he didn’t care a whit for it, but he’d never stop your sunny chattering. It made him feel light and moreover, it made him feel welcomed.

“That’s the Widow Roche,” you said now, and he followed your pointing to see the older woman, a little bent in her carriage. She had grey hair the color of slate and small, darting eyes like a sparrow.

“She fancies herself the village matchmaker, though we have no such role officially,” you continued. “I’ve heard she already has a bevy of available women for you.”

That made him choke on his own spit, coughing roughly at how casually you said it. Him, married. An unlikely story.

“She needn’t bother,” he replied, and his voice was rough from coughing.

You fixed him with your curious gaze but didn’t say anything for a long moment. He only stared back at you, wary at whatever you may be thinking while his blood heated to hold your frank gaze for so long. What were you thinking? That he was too rough to marry? Too ugly? He already knew that –

“There are many rumors in the village about you,” you finally said.

“Are there?”

You nodded. “Some say that you sold your heart to the devil for riches and glory in war.”

It was such an audacious story that Pero couldn’t help but laugh – a real one, from his belly, his head thrown back until tears sprang to his eyes. It startled you, but then you started to laugh with him, his rare merriment contagious.

“What else?” he asked once he brought himself under control.

You shrugged. “More mundane ones. That you had your heart broken by a woman and took up the sword. That you ran off with a lord’s wife but she died before you could build a home together.” You glanced over at the Widow Roche, and Pero saw that the old woman was staring right at the two of you, her attention probably pulled by his outburst of laughter.

“She thinks you’ve been married before and are a widower,” you said in a low voice. “So many of her options for you are widows themselves.”

“I’ve not been married before, hermosa.” The word slipped out before he even realized it, and Pero cursed himself for not being more diligent. Maybe you hadn’t noticed…

“What does hermosa mean?”

Pero clenched his jaw. “It means…girl.” His good mood dampened by his own stupid mouth, he added, a little meanly, “and no one would marry one like me anyway, widow or not.”

You didn’t understand the depth of feeling behind the sentiment. You only shook your head a little and said, “of course someone would marry you. We aren’t so snobbish to outsiders to our village. Soon enough, we’ll consider you one of our own.”

Pero’s bad moods were like an avalanche he’d witnessed one while crossing the Alps. Once they started, they only grew and grew until they left a swath of destruction in their wake.

“No woman would marry me because of this,” he spat out, and he turned to face you full on, his finger jabbing upward to point at his scarred eye.

You still didn’t seem to grasp his low temper, and certainly you couldn’t see the despair in the core of his being, the darkness that he carried from all the lives he had taken for money.

“It’s only a scar,” you tried to reason kindly. “My uncle on the other side of the valley lost an eye altogether, and he still found a lovely wife who gave him four lovely children.”

He growled at that, irked at your sunny demeanor where it had delighted him only moments earlier. He’d never find a lovely wife to give him lovely children.

You were the only woman to even pique his interest, the madness that had never dwindled, but it had been nothing but a foolish dream to entertain. He had been playing at courting you, in all those moments where you gave your gentle lessons and he did menial chores. But you were only being kind to him, as you were kind to everyone.

So wrapped in his own foul mood, he nearly missed the next thing you said. In fact, he did miss it, would only think back to it later in the silence of his crofter’s hut.

“You’re handsome enough,” you said quietly. “Especially when you smile, Pero.”

But of course he didn’t register it then. Instead, he growled again, a nearly feral sound in the back of his throat like a cur.

“What of you?” he asked with a mean edge to his voice. “Why is your younger cousin married today and not you? Why aren’t you keeping the hearth of some man with his brat slung on your hip?”

As soon as it was out of his mouth, he regretted it. It wasn’t the words – in his conversations with you, you were usually frank about your life: the healing work you did, your elder brothers and their families and their petty dramas. You’d likely tell him in a forthright way why you were unwed, the oldest maiden in the village.

It was the tone he said the words. The mean sneer, meant to wound. And it did, judging from the surprise and then the hurt that marked your features. The way you dropped your head to stare at your hands in your lap, twisting the skirt of your kirtle between your clenched fists.

“I should go find my mother,” you finally said. Your voice was flatly formal, and it made the meal from earlier sit heavy in Pero’s gut. It was all his fault; it had been such a lovely moment, sitting with you and chatting, the laugh you had pulled from him, and maybe he could have coaxed you into a dance, but his stupid fucking mouth had to ruin it.

You stood up then, gave him a brief nod without meeting his eyes, and then walked away. You melted into the crowd until he couldn’t see you anymore, and he muttered a curse at his own stupidity.

William had always told him that it was his mouth and not his face that was too mean. “No woman cares for your injury,” his former comrade used to say in his irregular brogue. “Women love a dashing scar if it has a good story. It’s your mouth that scares them away.”

If Pero could speak to his old friend now, he’d sadly concede the point.

He left soon after that. Without you by his side, he felt like the outsider again, even though some of the men stopped by and chatted with him. The ride back to his farm felt lonelier than anything he’d felt in a long while, and his mood was purely black.

But it would get blacker, like a night sky without any moon or stars. He tortured himself by remembering the look on your face – the surprise, the hurt – but then his mind recalled the sentence he had heard but hadn’t registered.

You’re handsome enough, you had said. Especially when you smile, Pero.

Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

You had called him handsome. No one had ever done that. Maybe you were only being kind…

But you had called him Pero. Not Master Tovar, as you always did. That wasn’t kindness. It couldn’t be.

And you had said it quietly, haltingly. You were hardly ever quiet and you were never halting. Did that mean something too? Pero didn’t know enough of women, but he thought he might be getting to know you, and he felt that maybe…could you feel something for him? Or was it just more kindness to the village stranger?

He groaned and scrubbed his calloused hands across his face, horrified at the implications. At best, he had mistreated your kindness, repaid it with harshness.

At worst? He had likely just pushed away the only woman to pique his interest, to invade his dreams and chase away the nightmares, to inspire entire insipid fantasies of domestic bliss.

You’re a fucking idiota, he thought to himself, and the quiet, sardonic voice in the back of his mind agreed wholeheartedly.

~~~Tag List~~~ @bananas-pajamas @rachelxwayne @stardust-fray @massivecolorspygiant @imspillingcoffee @amneris21 @paintballkid711 @mad-girl-without-a-box @isvvc-pvscvl @mrschiltoncat @danniburgh @stillshelbs @mishasminion360 @elegantduckturtle

#pero tovar #pero tovar x reader #pero tovar imagine #the great wall

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gb-patch · 3 years

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Ask Answers (February 22nd, 2021)

Hello! Here’s another collection of anon ask answers all put together in one big post.

This might be strange considering how upbeat yall are about the fandoms for your games in general, but is there any particular trope or ship you WOULDN'T want us writing/drawing/etc. in relation to your stuff? (IE, any canon you don't want us 'overwriting' or something like that?)

Of course we would want the fan content people make to not be racist, sexist, homophobic, bigoted, harmful, etc. But in terms of generally doing non-canon pairings or adding in headcanons or stuff, we really don’t mind that. People are welcome to have fun and explore their own ideas.

for the 1.2 Android update was it meant to download as a separate app? I really want to keep my previous save files but they don't show up (also thank u for the updates I'm really excited to get back into the game!!)

We had to change the name of the file and unfortunately for some phones that meant it’s treated as a brand new game. I’m sorry your saves didn’t transfer over to the new version. You can try to look up your specific phone and see if there’s a way to access save files for games on your device and then transfer those saves over to the new build manually. It may or may not be possible.

I'm having some trouble figuring out how to get the update from Itichio without losing my save files? Is it the same game or a folder I can put in the properties? Sorry if this question is not worded well or if this isn't the avenue you'd want to take technical questions on

Are you using Android? If so, the above answer may apply to you. If you’re on PC or Mac, the save files will automatically still be included.

Hey. I really loved playing our life. It was a fun experience and I never thought I would like it this much. I do have a question, I am currently replaying the game and I am choosing choices I never chose at first. In step 2 during the road trip arc, I decided to ask Cove about what he liked to see on people. One of his response was anklets and black eyes. My MC have just happens to have black eyes. Do Cove say black eyes cuz my mc have it or it was just a coincidently programmed into the game?

He uses your eye color intentionally! If you changed your eye color he’d change what he said.

Will step 4 have 10 moments like steps 1-3?

Step 4 is only an epilogue. It plays like the openings/endings of the earlier Steps where it’s a bunch of scenes all in a row, there aren’t any individual Moments.

hi! who was/were the artist(s) for our life?

who is the artist for Our Life: Beginning and Always?

Main Sprite and CG Artist: Addrossi

Main Background Artist: Vui Huynh

Main Interface Artist: Winter Slice

Other artists who helped out can be seen in the credits of the game.

In the new ol, there are two main love interests... Would it be possible to pair them together or is that weird?

You can’t stay single and pair them together. If we are going to add all the extra content to have a route where the two LIs get together, it’d be a full poly route where them and the MC were all dating. And that’s not a for sure option yet because it’d add a lot of extra complications. But either way, in OL the relationships all gotta be about the MC, haha.

In OL2, there will be extra LIs in form of DLCs? Like Dexter and Baxter.

Maybe! We’ll see how it goes.

Since Cove will have 2 diff body types in s4, will the storyline and dialogs reflect this? Or all of it will be the same? Btw love the game and sorry for bad english. Hope this doesn't sound rude 😅

Some descriptions and pieces of dialog will change, but it won’t impact the story really. And you don’t need to apologize! It’s all good.

Will you ever release the transparent sprites of the Our Life characters?

Probably not, I’m afraid. They’ve got a lot of pieces and it’d just be kind of hard to deal with, aha.

Something I was curious about, what was your inspiration for making a game with so much customization?

Initially, the idea was just about having a romance where you actually grew up with the LI. But it was pretty stressful to try deciding how fast the relationship would progress with it taking place over such a long period of time and with no real storyline carrying it. People might not wanna play a game where the characters don’t get along as kids, but other people might not bother with a game where kids immediately liked each other. So the obvious answer came, just let the player pick themselves how it goes. From there we simply continued to add more flexibly with the MC due to the same thought process of wanting to make sure people were onboard with how their life was going.

What made you decide to change the artstyle for ol 2 so much? I of course respect all your decisions and will buy the shit out of everything related to ol 2, but i love the original style and i m honestly not a fan of the styles shown on patreon, despite me liking the painterly style in general. (I don t mind the style being changed, just that the examples shown so far all feel like there s something wrong with them.)

We’ve always used different art styles for each of our projects. They all have distinct looks from each other. It’s just nice to do something new. I’m glad you really like how the first game looks, though. And those samples were only general concepts, rather than the exact options being decided between. We wanted to see reactions to different options. The art style we’re going with won’t be exactly like those, though I personally like all of them. I think players are gonna enjoy the style Our Life: Now & Forever when it’s revealed.

Hey! Is it ok to ask what gender ourlife2 protagonist will be and if we'll be given the same opportunity to customize an MC? Totally understand if you're keeping this under wraps for now if u don't wanna say!

OL2 will have the same type of MC customization as OL1, but even more refined! So their gender will be up to you.

Hi! I happened upon Our Life on Steam by pure chance. It is such a great game, I am super excited about the DLC, and I just want you all to know that you are awesome! :D I have a question, and I'm sorry if it's been asked before. Do you have plans of making more games similar to Our Life, with customizable player character? The customizable player character was probably the one thing I personally have been desperate for in romance VNs. So glad there finally is one and would love to see more.

Thank you! And yep, we do have plans for more games like Our Life, most notably is another game in the franchise- Our Life: Now & Forever. We’ll also likely have other, non-OL, games with customizable MCs, though we may still have some games with set MCs in the future as well.

On the patreon dlc just curious but is it possible to play it without actually sleeping together/getting the nsfw content? I just want to spend more time with Cove

Yeah, you can still choose not to go that far. Though the event is shorter if you pass on the 18+ stuff.

At the beginning of Step 2, did Cove end up accidentally falling asleep in your bed? Or did he fall asleep on the floor?

He fell asleep sitting on the floor with his body/head leaning against the side of the bed.

This may seem like a weird question, but what exactly is the difference between "direct" and "relaxed" on the comfort scale?

Direct is blunter and more teasing, relaxed is lighthearted and goes with the flow.

can the MC have tattoos in step 3?

Not in Step 3, but you can in Step 4.

how would Cove react if he visited somewhere like North Carolina in winter where it can get in the 20s(F) at night sometimes?

He would be shocked and unprepared for what serious coldness is really like, haha. The poor beach baby would wanna go home.

Hello! I just joined the PATREON!! It’s amazing! I love your games! I have a question, approximately how much after will the nsfw be out? After or before the dlc 3 and step four? Sorry my English isn’t the best!❤️❤️❤️

Thanks so much! The NSFW DLC will be out after the Step 3 DLC but before Step 4. And you don’t need to apologize for that ^^.

This might be obvious but, will step 4 have dlcs? Also, where will the nsfw dlc happen? Won't bother me at all if it s in in our or his house but i do think it d be moderately funny

Step 4 will have the Cove Wedding DLC and the Derek and Baxter romance DLCs each add a lot of new content to Step 4, though they’re also partially set in Step 2 and Step 3 respectively. The NSFW DLC happens in Cove’s room.

I keep wondering what would've happened if Mr. Holden met Lizzie first instead of the MC. I can't see that turning out well somehow lol.

It wouldn’t have made a difference. He met the MC’s parents first and they told him about their two kids. He wanted the MC specifically to be Cove’s friend because the two were the same age.

Even though we have a way to go I'm really excited for OL 2! I was curious though, is the next main character going to be adopted again? I thought it was really clever to make the first main character adopted so when players are customizing, they can make them look how ever they like without worrying about pesky genetics. Just wondering!

The OL2 MC is not adopted. We wanted to go for a new dynamic. Instead their parents are their biological single mother who is partially customizable and an off-screen sperm donor father. So the mom will look generally like the MC and any other traits not from her can be assumed to come from whoever the father was.

—– —– —–

Thank you so much for all the asks ^^

FAQ If you prefer to just see the main posts without all the asks/reblogs, feel free to follow our side account instead: GB Patch Updates Blog

#our life #Our Life Beginnings & Always #ourlifeba #ask #gb patch #gb patch games #Our Life: Now & Forever

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ao719 · 3 years

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Full Disclosure: The Beginning

Full Disclosure: The Beginning (Part 13)

Characters belong to Pixelberry

Summary: A look back at Charlotte during the social season and engagement tour.

A/N: This is the last chapter for this little series (and it’s loaded - I’m so sorry. I just didn’t want to split it up into 2 parts). Thank you to @burnsoslow for prereading! And also @sirbeepsalot for prereading and taking your machete to it! And thank you for all of your wonderful comments, kind words, and love for Charlotte. I’m going to miss writing her story, but I’m sure some shenanigan filled one shots will occasionally pop up.

Catch Up Here

Tags: @leelee10898 @hopefulmoonobject @zaffrenotes @cocomaxley @gardeningourmet @blackcoffee85 @gibbles82 @annekebbphotography @sweetest-marbear @indiacater @liamxs-world @classylady1234 @texaskitten30 @thequeenofcronuts @custaroonie @moneyfordiamonds @the-soot-sprite @ladyangel70 @kate-mckenzie @emichelle @dcbbw @burnsoslow @bbrandy2002 @sirbeepsalot @choiceslife @debramcg1106 @gnatbrain @ofpixelsandscribbles @caroldxnvxrs @openheart12 @rigatonireid @callmeellabella @superharriet @seriouslybadchoices @aestheticartsx @forthebrokenheartedthings @kingliam2019 @indiana-jr @bascmve01 @rainbowsinthestorm @badchoicesposts @darley1101 @blackcatkita @charlotteg234 @alyssalauren @txemrn @neotericthemis @queenrileyrose @emkay512 @marshmallowsaremyfavorite

Charlotte watched the clouds blur by as the plane prepared to land. She was anxious about returning to where her and Liam’s story began … and where it could very well end.

Liam had told her a few nights ago that he learned from Bastien that Constantine was the one behind the scandal. The news left her trying to wrap her mind around why the former King sabotaged her and Liam’s happiness. Now that the court was arriving in New York, they didn’t have much time left to clear her name, but they had a plan: they would confront Constantine themselves.

****

Charlotte stood in her hotel room after getting ready for the welcoming luncheon at the hotel’s rooftop restaurant. She was on edge, knowing she and Liam would finally be confronting Constantine. She wanted answers as to why he did what he did, and she wanted him to clear her name.

A soft knock on her door pulled her from her thoughts. She opened it to reveal Liam on the other side; he quickly stepped inside, wrapped his arms around her, and leaned down to kiss her as the door latched shut behind him. “Hi,” he whispered against her lips as they parted.

Charlotte closed her eyes and smiled; being in his arms at that moment was the first time since leaving Paris she felt some sense of calm. “Hey.”

Liam looked at her, brushing his hand across her cheek. “Are you alright?”

“A little nervous,” she admitted.

“Me too. But it’s going to be alright. We’re going to do this together. And just think … all of this will be over afterward.” Liam smiled at the thought of clearing Charlotte’s name, ending his farce of an engagement, and being able to be with her, the woman he loved.

“So, what’s the plan?”

“We’ll get to the luncheon; I’ll be sitting at the table with my father and Regina. I’ll ask him to speak privately. When we get up to step out of the room, you follow.” Charlotte nodded as she let out a breath; Liam cupped her face in his hands and kissed her forehead. “It’s going to be alright, love.”

****

The restaurant on the hotel roof was encased in windows, giving an uninterrupted view of New York City around them. Charlotte sat at her table with Maxwell, Bertrand, Olivia, and Drake, but her eyes were fixated on Liam and Constantine across the room. Liam kept glancing over, meeting her eyes, while he waited for the right time to pull his father aside.

“You okay, Brooks?”

“Huh?” Charlotte tore her eyes away from Liam.

“You seem distracted, Lady Charlotte,” Bertrand noted.

“Oh … I’m fine.” Charlotte and Liam hadn’t told the others Constantine was the one behind the scandal or of their plan to confront him. Liam thought it would be better to wait until they got some answers.

“How’s it feel to be back home?” Olivia asked.

“Honestly, it feels a bit weird. Don’t get me wrong, I missed the city, but my life feels so different now than it did when I left six months ago.”

“It feels like just yesterday when we met you in the bar,” Maxwell grinned, and Charlotte smiled at the memory.

“Remember when Liam first came into the bar while she was taking our order, and she hit the table and almost fell over?” Drake laughed. “And the menus went flying all over the place.”

“And then she fell behind the bar,” Maxwell chuckled.

Charlotte giggled. “I fell a lot that night.” Literally and figuratively, she thought.

“At least you haven’t changed that much, Brooks,” Drake laughed.

Just then, out of the corner of her eye, she saw Liam and Constantine both rise from their seats. She glanced over, meeting Liam’s eyes; he gave her a subtle nod before heading for the doors that lead to the private outdoor terrace. “I’ll be right back,” she said as she stood.

“Where are you going?” Bertrand asked.

“To talk to Constantine.” Everyone’s brows furrowed. “I’ll explain later. Just … act normal.” Charlotte walked towards the terrace, careful not to draw any attention to herself. She slipped out of the door and could hear Liam and Constantine just around the corner, out of view from the others.

“So, what’s this urgent matter you needed to speak with me about, Liam? So urgent that you had to interrupt our meal.”

Liam could hear Charlotte behind him. “The matter is this.” He stepped aside, revealing her to his father.

“Lady Charlotte? What are you doing out here?”

Charlotte’s eyes narrowed as she stared at him. “I’m here to make you face what you did to me.”

“I-” Constantine broke off, coughing. Liam instinctively took a step toward him, but he held out his hand; he coughed again before looking back to Charlotte. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Really? I beg to differ.”

“Liam, honestly, what is the meaning-” Constantine began to cough again, clutching his throat. He doubled forward, trying to take a breath before he suddenly collapsed to the ground.

“Father!” Liam shouted, both he and Charlotte dropping to his side.

Just then, Regina appeared outside. Her eyes widened when she saw her husband on the ground. “Liam! What happened?”

“He started coughing and then collapsed! Call an ambulance!” Constantine’s complexion paled; he continued to violently cough and gasp for air as Regina quickly pulled out her phone.

****

Liam and Charlotte stood in a private waiting room at New York-Presbyterian Hospital, listening to the doctor explain that Constantine was resting comfortably. “The coughing fit was due to the cancer. I wish I could say it would get better, but …” Liam nodded in understanding at his words. “We’re giving him some oxygen and fluids. You may go see him.”

“Thank you, doctor.” Liam shook the man’s hand before he stepped out of the room.

“I’ll let you go see him alone.”

“No. You’re coming with me, and we’re going to talk to him.”

“Liam, it can wait. Really.”

Liam shook his head. “No, it can’t. Because, as much as I don’t want to say this -- despite the horrible things he’s done -- who’s to say that we’ll get another chance? He’s dying, Charlotte. And I refuse to allow him to take the truth to his grave.”

Charlotte took a breath and nodded as she let it out. “If you’re sure …”

Charlotte and Liam walked down the hall and stopped outside of Constantine’s door; they shared a look before entering the room hand-in-hand. Constantine lay in bed and opened his eyes when he heard them come in. His eyes widened upon seeing Charlotte with Liam. “Father …”

Liam stared at him, feeling a wave of conflicting emotions. He was angry for what his father had done to him and more furious for what he had put Charlotte through. But despite that anger, there was a sadness he felt seeing his father that way. He was pale and connected to wires, IV tubes, and oxygen.

For the first time in Liam’s life, the former King -- someone he once admired, respected, and thought was untouchable -- looked weak. And in more ways than one.

“What is she doing here?” Constantine rasped.

“Your Majesty, I know this isn’t the best time, but we need to talk to you,” Charlotte answered as they approached the bed.

“We know what you did,” Liam added, looking down at him. “You set Charlotte up.”

“Liam …”

“You owe me an explanation,” Liam spat. “You knew how I felt about her … you knew, and yet you sabotaged her. Do you realize what almost happened to her that night?” Constantine struggled to take in a deep breath. “And you dragged others in to do your dirty work. Lady Penelope. Bastien.” Constantine continued to stare at them, and Liam shook his head in frustration. “You really have nothing to say for yourself?”

“I just want to know why,” Charlotte said. “What did I do to make you do this to me? To your own son?” Constantine’s breathing became slightly shallower, and he looked away from them, fixating his eyes on the ground. “You know, after everything I’ve been through because of you, the least you could do is answer me!”

Liam noticed his father’s hand waving as he stared at the ground; he followed his gaze to his and Charlotte’s feet. “Charlotte,” Liam pulled her back.

Charlotte glanced down; her eyes widened, and she cupped her hand over her mouth. She had been standing on his oxygen tubing, temporarily cutting off his air supply. She then snapped her gaze back to Constantine when she heard him inhale a relieved breath, and she tried to push the laugh that she could feel coming back down. “Sorry!” she squeaked, then her expression turned. “Actually, you know what? No, I’m not! Ok … I am, but only a little bit sorry. Not like, fully sorry. I do need you breathing.” For now. Liam nudged her with his arm, and she cleared her throat. “You owe us answers.”

“Liam, now is not the time,” Constantine replied, his words dulled by the mask he was wearing.

Liam’s jaw tensed as his expression hardened. “We are not leaving until you give us an explanation for what you did.”

Constantine knew Liam wasn’t going to budge, and he let out a defeated breath. “Very well.” The former King shifted to sit up a bit more; he pulled the oxygen mask away from his face just enough so his words wouldn’t be muffled. “After I received the cancer diagnosis, and my health began to decline, I knew I would be unable to rule much longer.” Constantine glanced at Liam. “The last thing I ever wanted to do was place the burden of the crown on your shoulders so soon, Liam. But I didn’t have a choice. I wanted you to be prepared because these are difficult times for Cordonia. We’ve always had our share of enemies, but throughout my reign, I’ve seen them grow bolder. Once I realized I wasn’t going to be around much longer to help you face those threats, I had to secure Cordonia’s future.”

“By sending a man into my room? By having a photographer invade my privacy? And by letting the press tell lies about me while you sat by, knowing the truth the whole time?!”

“It was obvious from the night of the masquerade ball how Liam felt about you. I saw the way he looked at you. As the season progressed, those feelings for you did too. I knew given a choice, he would choose you to be his Queen.”

“Why would you sabotage that for me? Do you not want me to be happy?” Liam asked.

“Of course I want you to be happy, Liam, but this is bigger than just you and the feelings you have for some girl!” Constantine looked back at Charlotte. “I must admit, you impressed me. While your behavior and personality are rather … uncouth, you proved to be resilient and intelligent. And both Regina and I noticed how happy you made Liam … how he smiled and laughed more in your presence than he has in a very long time. But still … you couldn’t compete with Madeleine. She has been preparing to become Queen her entire life. You are an outsider. Yes, you could have learned … but inexperience is seen as weakness, and weakness, even in appearance -- especially in appearance -- is fatal. And you, Lady Charlotte, proved to be my son’s weakness. I’ve already lost so much to our kingdom’s enemies, and when I’m gone, there will be no one left to protect Liam from them.”

“Did you blackmail Olivia as well?” Charlotte asked.

“Yes. She is far too rash to be sitting on the throne, but I knew Liam would choose her over Madeleine, simply because of their friendship and her friendship with you as well. I had to eliminate her from the competition to ensure Madeleine was chosen.”

Charlotte shook her head in disgust. “My name and reputation have been ruined. You tried to tear me away from Liam and my friends … but that isn’t even the worst part. You would have forced your son to marry a woman he doesn’t love just because you think you get to decide what’s best for not only Cordonia but for him. And if we hadn’t uncovered the truth, Liam would have had to live with that for the rest of his life!”

“It was my duty as Cordonia’s King!”

“You have a duty as his father!” Charlotte snapped back.

“And you’re not King! Not anymore!” Liam added.

Constantine looked at him, surprised by the tone in his son’s voice. “Liam, please … I know I’ve hurt you, but this is the price of wearing the crown. I couldn’t afford to put your happiness, or Lady Charlotte’s, above our people’s future. And one day you will come to understand when you have to make similar sacrifices of your own and-”

Liam squared his shoulders and held up his hand, cutting his father off. “No.” Constantine’s brows raised in surprise. “You sit there and act as though you didn’t have a choice. But you decided what you were willing to do, what you were willing to sacrifice. What kind of King -- what kind of father -- you wanted to be. So here is mine. I love Charlotte. And had you not interfered that night, I would have asked her to marry me. I would be on this tour with her right now, actually enjoying myself. I may not have been able to stop you from hurting her, but I can still try to make this right. As King of Cordonia, I am placing Charlotte under my protection. I will help her right the wrongs that have been done to her by you. And I am commanding you, as your monarch, to help us in any way that you can.”

Constantine had never seen his son with a more fierce look in his eyes, nor had he heard him speak with such promise. He let out a breath, knowing he wasn’t going to change his mind but also that he wasn’t going to be able to help. “Very well.”

Charlotte eyed him suspiciously, not trusting how quickly he agreed. “How do I know that I can trust you after what you’ve already done to me?”

“My word is all I have to offer, Lady Charlotte. But unfortunately, I’m afraid I won’t be much help.”

“What does that mean?” Liam asked.

“I can’t come forward to clear Lady Charlotte’s name myself.”

“Why the fuck not?” Charlotte bit out, ignoring the taken aback expression on the former King’s face at her language.

“Admitting my involvement would shake the Cordonian people’s faith in their rulers. Past and present. So while you may not care what they think of me, be aware that they will question Liam, his motives, and how far he would be willing to go, as I have, to protect his throne. So unless you want that to happen …”

“Enough,” Liam growled, knowing his father was trying to intimidate Charlotte with his words.

“Is he right?” she asked, looking at Liam.

“Yes, it could happen, but I don’t care about that, Charlotte. I want your name cleared. I don’t care what happens to my reputation because of it.”

“And you’ve just driven my point home that she is your weakness,” Constantine said; Liam snapped his gaze over, glowering at him.

Charlotte shook her head, feeling frustrated. As much as she wanted her name cleared, she wouldn’t do it at Liam’s expense. “No … I can’t do that to you, Liam.”

“Charlotte-”

“One of us being ruined is enough. I won’t take you down with me. We have to find another way.”

“The only way is to find Lord Tariq. You need to get him to come forward and make a statement admitting that nothing happened that night. But even I don’t know his whereabouts. I encouraged him to leave in light of his … disgrace. I’ve had no contact with him since.”

“Fucking perfect,” Charlotte scoffed.

Liam took her hand in his. “We’ll figure it out.” Just then, the doctor knocked on the door, asking to come in to assess Constantine. “We’ll leave you to it. I’ll be in touch if I need anything.”

“Liam … I am sorry …”

“I don’t accept your apology.” With that, Liam turned and led Charlotte from the room. As they walked down the hall, Liam pulled her back into the private waiting room they were in before; he shut and locked the door behind him. “Are you alright?”

“Are you?”

“Don’t worry about me, Charlotte. I want to know how you’re doing.”

“I’m … I don’t know!” Charlotte threw her hands up in frustration. “I mean … what the hell are we supposed to do now? He’s saying he can’t come forward, and we have to find a man that hasn’t been seen in months!”

“I told you I didn’t care what would happen if my father came forward. Let him do it! Let him face what he did to you.”

“I care, Liam! I am not about to let you go down for what your father did to me. No. It’s not an option.”

“Then we find Tariq.”

“How?”

“I … honestly, I’m not sure.” Charlotte looked down, shaking her head; Liam stepped forward and cupped her face in his hands, forcing her to look back at him. “But we’ll figure it out.” He leaned down and pressed his lips to hers. “We will.” He whispered the promise against her lips before kissing her again.

*******

The following morning, Charlotte stepped out of the shower in her hotel room. She had the day free before she would need to attend the UN Gala that evening. She wanted to work on locating Tariq, but there wasn’t much they could do until they learned of his whereabouts. They had told Drake, Olivia, and Maxwell about their talk with Constantine, but even they were unsure how they were going to find Tariq.

Stepping out of the bathroom, Charlotte looked at her phone on the nightstand, seeing a voicemail alert from an unknown number. She hit play before bringing it to her ear.

“Lady Charlotte, it’s Countess Madeleine. I have an absolutely vital task I need for you to complete. I simply have no time to pick up mine and Liam’s wedding bands before our return to Cordonia. I must insist that you be the one to do it as a thanks to me for allowing you to remain present on this tour and in Liam’s life. I trust you will retrieve them and bring them to me later.”

Rage coursed through Charlotte’s veins as she pulled the phone away from her ear. “Who the fuck does she think she is?” She clenched her hand into a fist before hurling her phone across the room.

****

Charlotte took the elevator to the first floor, practically stomping through the lobby as she mumbled obscenities under her breath. “Whoa, where ya going, Brooks?” Drake asked, coming back from breakfast with Maxwell.

“Out!” she answered before pushing her way through the revolving door.

Drake followed, knowing that she was pissed off. He knew Liam wouldn’t want him to let her go off alone, at least not without figuring out what was bothering her. He quickly caught up to her on the sidewalk. “You going to tell me what’s wrong? And where you’re off to so heated?”

“Madeleine sent me on an errand to pick up her and Liam’s goddamn wedding bands,” she spat.

“Wait, what?” Drake asked incredulously. “You realize you could have told her no, right?”

“Yes, so she could cry to whoever will listen about how awful I am. Sure!” As much as Charlotte hated it, she found herself being much more cautious with so little time left to clear her name. She was on edge, picking and choosing her battles, not wanting to get worked up over trivial things when something much bigger was at stake.

“Alright, well, I’ll come with you. You won’t even have to look at the rings.”

“Fuck her and her stupid rings. They’re probably ugly and gaudy as hell, just like her face!”

****

Charlotte stood in the jewelry store with her arms folded across her chest as she waited impatiently for the jeweler to come back from the back where he was grabbing the rings. She just wanted to get them, bring them back to the hotel, and try and forget that she was ever asked to do this.

“Here you are, miss.” The jeweler returned, carrying two black velvet boxes. “Let’s take a look.”

“No need for that.” Charlotte would be lying if she said she wasn’t a bit curious, but at the same time, she didn’t want to see the rings, one that Madeleine would wear, one that Liam would wear, tethering them together. Forever.

“I’m sure they look fine,” Drake said. “Just bag them up.” The jeweler offered a curious look before placing them in a bag and handing it to Drake. “Thanks.”

Drake guided Charlotte out of the jewelry store. “You ok?”

“Peachy.”

Charlotte’s eyes kept glancing down at the bag Drake was carrying. He noticed. “You’re a little curious as to how gaudy they look, aren’t you?”

“No!” Charlotte scoffed. “Ok … maybe a little.”

Drake reached in the bag, blindly pulling out one of the boxes. He handed it to Charlotte. “Let’s see.” Charlotte took the box and opened it; it was Liam’s. It was a thick, plain gold band. “Well, that’s kind of bland. It’s very Liam.” Drake reached inside the bag and pulled out the other box, handing it to Charlotte. “How’s hers look?”

Charlotte held Liam’s and opened the other box. She scrunched up her nose. It was a thinner gold band with diamonds spaced out around its entirety, but nothing about it was appealing. “I thought she would have better taste than this.”

“It looks like a vending machine ring,” Drake chuckled. His eyes widened with a smirk when Charlotte plucked it from its holding spot and slid the ring onto her finger. She held her hand out to get a better look at it. “Yeah, you could do better.”

“I’ll say. Well, knowing she’s going to walk around with this ugly thing on her finger makes me feel a little better.”

“She’s only going to walk around with it if she makes it down the aisle, Brooks. We’re not going to let that happen.”

“I’m trying not to get my hopes up too high, Drake.” She plucked Liam’s ring from the box and handed it to him. “Here.”

“Aw, are you proposing, Brooks? Sorry, you’re not my type.”

“I’m blonde.”

“Too clumsy, though.” He took the ring and put it on his finger. “This feels weird as hell.”

Drake immediately removed the ring and handed it back to her. Charlotte hooked it onto the end of her finger while she slid Madeleine’s off. Suddenly, Charlotte stepped in a dip in the sidewalk, twisting her ankle, and her body lurched forward onto the hard concrete.

Both rings flew out of her hands.

Charlotte’s eyes were wide, watching as the rings went airborne, feeling like it was happening in slow motion. They both landed with a bounce and rolled … right into a sewer drain.

“Ohhhhhh, noooo!” Charlotte gasped.

“Brooks! Are you alright?”

“Drake! The rings! They … FUCK!” Charlotte shouted as passersby glanced down at where she was still lying on the sidewalk. She scrambled to her feet and rushed to the sewer drain where the rings had disappeared. “Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! Oh my God!”

“Honestly … serves her right for asking you to get them,” Drake said calmly as he crouched down next to her. “Just think … there’s going to be some blinged-out rats strutting around New York.” He heard a sniffle, and his head snapped over. “Are you crying?”

“This is terrible, Drake! She’s going to say I did this on purpose! And as hideous as her ring was, it probably cost a fortune because Madeleine is nothing if not materialistic!” she wailed. She bowed her head, covering her face with her hands.

“Brooks, calm down. The rings can be replaced. Liam lives in a literal palace. That ring was probably pocket change to him. And Madeleine can most definitely afford another ring. It was an accident.”

“I need to call Liam,” she cried as her breath hitched. She pulled out her phone and dialed Liam’s.

“Hello, love. I was just thinking about-”

“Liam! The rings -- in the drain! They flew -- and now the rats have them!” she cried.

“Rings? Rats? Charlotte, what the hell are you talking about?” Drake took the phone from Charlotte, explaining to Liam what had happened. “Wait … Madeleine asked Charlotte to go pick up the rings?”

“Yeah, I figured that would be the only thing you’d be upset about. But Brooks … well, she is here kneeling in front of a sewer drain crying, and we’re getting some pretty strange looks, even for NYC.”

“Just get her back to the hotel. I’ll deal with Madeleine.”

Drake hung up the phone and tossed it into the now empty bag he was holding onto. “Come on.” He pulled Charlotte to stand. “Stop crying, Brooks. He’s not mad.” He knew the rings weren’t the real reason she was crying. It was everything else that was happening since her and Liam’s conversation with Constantine. The rings were just what set off the waterworks. He threw his arm around her shoulders and pulled her away from the sewer drain, guiding her back towards the hotel. “You’d make a terrible ring-bearer.”

“Shut up,” she sniffled.

****

That evening, Liam stood on the balcony of his room, nursing a scotch while he waited to leave for the UN Gala. His mind went through the events of the day before. He had told Charlotte they would find Tariq, but he honestly wasn’t sure how. Tariq hadn’t been seen in three months, but he made a promise to her, and he had every intention of keeping it. He had two days and needed a plan.

Liam still wanted to let his father answer for what he had done, regardless of what it would do to him. But Charlotte was entirely against the idea. She said she wouldn’t allow him to sacrifice his reign and reputation, and that was the end of it.

Liam tossed back the rest of his drink before heading inside. Just as he grabbed his suit jacket, a knock came on his door. He walked over and opened it, narrowing his eyes at his visitor. “What the hell do you want?”

“Sir,” Bastien bowed. “May I?”

Liam hesitated for a moment before stepping aside to let him in. “Whatever you’re here to say, say it, then get the hell out.” Liam turned to face Bastien; his eyes landed on his now-healing split lip, a reminder of what happened in Paris. “Well? What do you want?”

“Sir, I spoke with your father earlier after he called me to his room to reprimand me for telling you I was working for him. He told me about your conversation …”

“Ok? Is that all?”

“No. After what happened in Paris … I began to look for Tariq myself.”

Liam perked up at his words. “So you know where he is?”

“I’m still waiting on a few calls, but I wanted to come by and offer my assistance to you again. You don’t have to accept it, and regardless of what you decide, I will turn over anything I find, but … I just … it’s the least that I could do for both of you.”

Liam saw the guilt in his eyes, and he felt his anger begin to let up. “Look … I’ll accept your offer to help Charlotte clear her name. But it’s going to take some time for me to trust you again, Bastien. You’ll need to earn it, and it’s not going to be easy. Not after what you did.”

“I understand, sir.”

Liam eyed him for a moment before nodding. “What have you found?”

****

Charlotte stood in the ballroom at the UN Gala with Drake and Maxwell. Liam had messaged her just before she arrived to tell her he needed to speak with her about Tariq. The gala was almost over, and she had yet to talk to him. Madeleine -- when she wasn’t shooting Charlotte dirty looks for what she assumed was over the ring debacle -- had latched onto him and pulled him around the room all night to speak with different dignitaries and guests.

While standing at the bar to get a drink, Charlotte felt a tap on her shoulder. She turned to see Liam, offering him a smile. “Hi.”

“Hello.” He was fighting himself not to wrap his arms around her. “I’m so sorry I haven’t been able to get away until now.”

“It’s okay. What did you need to tell me?”

“Not here.” Liam glanced around the room. “Now that I’m free, I had a thought of sneaking out, getting some fresh air. Would you like to join me?”

“Like you even have to ask,” Charlotte chuckled.

Liam smiled. “I’ll slip out the back entrance and meet you outside.” Charlotte nodded, and Liam turned, casually making his way through the crowd to the back door.

Charlotte followed, making sure not to draw suspicion to herself. She slipped into the stairwell and made her way down the steps. She came to another door at the bottom and pushed it open, stepping into a small alleyway at the side of the building. She yelped when a pair of arms wrapped around her. She turned in Liam’s arms, and he leaned down, capturing her lips in his as he backed her against the brick wall.

“Have I told you how stunning you look tonight?” Liam whispered; Charlotte chuckled and shook her head. “You’re breathtaking,” he said before kissing her again. Liam moved his lips to her neck, and Charlotte softly moaned, feeling his teeth and tongue trail along her skin.

“Are we going to talk? Because if not, I have some really amazing ideas of how we could waste time in this alley.”

Liam laughed against her neck. “Care to share with the class?”

“Well,” Charlotte began, “one of them involves you hiking the skirt of this gown up and taking me right here, against this wall.” Charlotte laughed as Liam let out a low growl; he found her lips again, kissing her deeply before he reluctantly drew back. “So what did you want to tell me?” she asked. He began to explain how Bastien stopped by his room earlier, offering to help find Tariq, and that he took him up on the said offer. “Did he tell you what he found?”

“He knows that Tariq arrived at the airport the morning after the jamboree and flew to the States. He was waiting for a call to find his trail from there.”

“Does he have family here?” Liam shook his head. “Well … at least it’s something, I guess. It’s better than nothing.”

Liam watched Charlotte glance down at their intertwined hands. “What is it, love?”

“We only have two days,” she whispered. “What if … what if we don’t-” Liam’s lips cut off Charlotte; he kissed her slow and deep, making her head fuzzy and her knees weak.

“Don’t say it,” he whispered against her lips. “We can’t think like that, okay?” Charlotte nodded. She was still thinking about it, though. How could she not? Sure, they had something to go on, but that was merely a crumb at the moment. How fast could Bastien find what they needed?

Suddenly, the door they had snuck out of burst open, causing Liam and Charlotte to jump apart. Maxwell, Drake, and Bastien came barreling out. “There you are!” Drake called out as the three of them rushed over.

“What’s going on?” Liam asked.

“He went to LA, sir,” Bastien answered. “I have an address to the apartment building he was staying at.”

“Get the-”

“The jet’s already being prepared, sir.”

Liam and Charlotte’s expressions flickered with hope as they looked at one another. “Well, come on, kiss goodbye. We got a flight to catch, Brooks,” Drake chuckled.

“We’re leaving now?”

“Red eye, baby!” Maxwell grinned. “It’s a six-hour flight. We need to get there and back before the shower tomorrow evening. I’ll grab you some clothes, and you can change on the plane.” Charlotte nodded and pulled her room key from her clutch, handing it to Maxwell. “Meet us out front in a few.”

The three of them rushed back inside, and Charlotte faced Liam. “That was fast.” Liam grinned and leaned down to kiss her again, feeling the excitement course through him. “This is really it? Do you think he’s still there, in LA?”

“I’m hoping so, love. But yes … I think this is it.” They smiled at one another before Liam kissed her once more. They stayed locked in that kiss for a few blissful moments before Liam drew back. “You should head out front.” He cupped her face in his hands and smiled. “I love you, Charlotte.”

“I love you too.”

*******

After the overnight flight on the royal jet, Charlotte, Maxwell, and Drake had landed in LA. They had left New York at midnight, arriving at LAX at 3 am. They stayed on the jet in an attempt to get some sleep while they waited for a decent hour to look for Tariq.

Charlotte couldn’t sleep, however. She was feeling a wave of emotions. She was anxious, nervous, excited, and scared all at the same time. This was her last chance to fix this. The court would be heading back to Cordonia tomorrow, and Liam would be making the final preparations for his wedding to Madeleine unless Charlotte showed up with Tariq in tow to clear her name. Everything was at stake.

Maxwell had woken Charlotte up at 8 am; the three of them changed and went to grab breakfast before heading to the address Bastien had given them, where he learned Tariq was staying. “Ready?” Drake asked as they got out of the car.

Charlotte looked up at the building and let out a breath. “Yeah.” They entered the building and went to the elevator. Once on the ninth floor, Charlotte stepped off the elevator with Drake and Maxwell following behind her. Her heart was racing as she quickly made her way down the hall, scanning the numbers on the outside of the doors until she stopped in front of one. “This is it …” Her heart was now pounding as she raised her hand and tapped her knuckles to the wood.

A few moments later, a man opened the door; it wasn’t Tariq. “Hi. Can I help you?”

“Uh, hello,” Charlotte smiled tentatively. “Is … is Tariq here?”

“No, he’s not.”

“Oh, sorry. I may have the wrong-”

“No, he was here. This is my apartment; he was subletting from me while I was in Europe.”

Charlotte could feel the hope slowly beginning to dwindle. “Do … do you know where he is, by chance?” she asked.

“I don’t, I’m sorry. I got back about three weeks ago, and he left. I haven’t seen him since. He didn’t even leave a forwarding address for his mail.”

That sliver of hope she had been clinging to like a lifeboat in a storm was gone at his words. “Oh … okay. Thank you …”

Drake and Maxwell shared a worried look. They could hear the defeat in Charlotte’s voice, and both wondered the same thing: Now what?

****

Back on the royal jet, Charlotte settled into her seat. She hadn’t spoken a word since they had left the apartment complex. If she opened her mouth to talk, she wasn’t going to get out more than a few words before the tears would start, and she was trying like hell to keep herself together.

Charlotte stared out the window as the jet rolled down the runway and lifted into the air. Everything seemed to be crashing down on her at that moment. This was her last chance to find Tariq before it was too late. She had failed. And now she had a tough decision to make. The mere thought of it made her heart feel as though it was being ripped apart. As her mind became jumbled, she could feel the lump forming in her throat; the clouds outside of her window became blurred by the tears that began to well in her eyes.

“How are you holding up, Brooks?” Drake asked as he sat next to her. Charlotte didn’t respond; she continued staring out the window with her knuckles pressed against her lips. Drake decided to try and make small talk, although he was sure it wasn’t going to help. “I know it’s easier said than done, but try not to worry. We’ll talk to Liam when we get back and figure out what our next steps are.” He watched her subtly shake her head, and he knew exactly what she was thinking: What’s the point? Drake sighed, wishing she would say something. “Charlotte …”

At the use of her first name from him for the first time since her first night in Cordonia, Charlotte slowly turned her head and looked at Drake; the sadness in her eyes was palpable. She covered her face with her hands, and Drake wrapped his arm around her shoulders and pulled her to his chest as he heaved a sigh.

She completely broke down.

“Brooks,” Drake whispered, rubbing her arm. He glanced up when Maxwell approached, and they shared a look before Maxwell knelt down in front of Charlotte’s seat. They watched her cry, knowing there was nothing they could do to make this better or right for her at that moment.

****

Drake, Charlotte, and Maxwell arrived back in New York with just enough time to get back to the hotel to change and make it down to the wedding shower.

Charlotte entered her room, feeling completely drained. She stared at the dress hanging on the door that she was supposed to wear to the wedding shower, and she let out a slow breath. She decided at that moment that she wasn’t going. She just didn’t have it in her to attend.

It would only make things more difficult.

A few moments later, a knock came on her door, and she turned to open it; Drake and Maxwell stood on the other side, both dressed for the shower and adjusting their clothing. “You’re not dressed,” Maxwell said as he looked at her.

“I’m not going to go. I think … I think it would be for the best. I need to get some air … try to clear my head.”

“Are you sure?” Drake asked.

“Yes. I’m just going to go for a walk. If Liam asks … you can tell him I’ll be in Central Park …”

****

After calling an old friend to make some arrangements for herself, Charlotte had left the hotel and walked through the city before making her way down to Central Park. She stepped onto Gapstow Bridge and looked down at the water below, seeing in it the reflection of the city behind her. She wasn’t there 10 minutes before she heard her name being called; she glanced over to see Liam making his way towards her on the bridge.

“Hi,” she said quietly as he approached. Liam immediately wrapped his arms around her, and she sank into his warm embrace.

When Drake and Maxwell arrived at the shower, they went straight to Liam to tell him what had happened in L.A. Liam tried to hide the heartbreak in his eyes when they told him that Tariq wasn’t there and how upset Charlotte had been on the plane. When they told him she had gone to Central Park, he snuck out of the hotel within minutes. He didn’t care if anyone was looking for him. Charlotte needed him.

“I’m sorry, Charlotte,” Liam whispered against her hair before kissing the top of her head. They drew back, and he cupped her face in his hands. “Are you okay?”

“I just feel … defeated and drained.”

Liam sighed as he leaned down and kissed her forehead. “I know it’s disheartening.”

“I’m sorry … about not coming tonight, I just …” Charlotte trailed off as she let out a breath.

“I know. I understand …” He moved to the railing and leaned against it.

“I just feel so lost, and I’m not sure what else there is we can do. He vanished. No one knows where he is …”

“I know,” Liam sighed. “We leave early tomorrow morning. Once we get back to Cordonia, we’ll figure everything out.”

“Liam, I …”

Charlotte swore she felt her heart stop as she cast her gaze downward, fighting back the tears that were already threatening to form over what she was about to tell him. It was a decision she’d spent the last three months coming to: what she was going to do should they not clear her name. Knowing what Liam was going to have to do when he returned to Cordonia left her with no other choice but to figure out her next steps.

Liam looked over at her. “What is it, love?”

“I … Liam, I’m … I’m not going back.”

Liam’s heart started to race, and he could feel the color drain from his face as he stared at her with his brows knitted in confusion. “What?” Charlotte stared at him, finding this conversation even harder to have than she already knew it would be. “What do you mean you’re not going back?”

“I mean … I’m staying here … in New York. I’m not going back to Cordonia with you.”

Liam shook his head vehemently. “Charlotte, no.” In one long stride, he was standing in front of her again. He slid his thumb under her chin, tilting her face up to his. When she met his gaze, a tear trickled from the corner of her eye; Liam leaned down to kiss her cheek, catching the briny tear on his lips. “I’m going to figure this out,” he whispered. “I’m going to find him. I’m going to make him come forward, and we’re going to clear your name and be together.”

Charlotte shook her head, her lip trembling as she spoke. “Not in time. I can’t … I can’t watch you parade around with her anymore. And I can’t go back … and watch you marry her.”

“Please, Charlotte, please give me more time. I promise you, I’m going to find him.”

“I can’t go back on a promise that you might someday find him.”

“But we’ve come this far … I just … I just need a little more time! Please … give me more time.”

The pleading look in his eyes and voice was slowly breaking her. “I need you to try and understand, Liam … and not make this harder than it already is.”

“Charlotte … you can’t give up …” Liam’s voice trembled. “We can’t give up.”

“I don’t want to give up … and I feel weak for doing it, because I love you, Liam. I love you so much … and you’re not supposed to give up on the people you love,” she spoke; her voice broke and rose an octave with each word as she tried and failed to fight back her emotions. “But I think it’s clear now that you were only mine to love … never mine to keep. And as much as it’s going to break me … I have to walk away … I have to let you go, Liam …”

Liam let out a shuddered breath as he looked away from her, attempting to blink back the tears, but like her, he failed to keep himself together. They came anyway. He didn’t want her to stay there. He didn’t want to give up on clearing her name or on them being together. He didn’t want to let her go or for her to let him go. But he knew it would be selfish of him to ask any more of her. Charlotte had been through enough over the past six months; first the Social Season and then the hell of the Engagement Tour. It had been hard on him, and he knew that whatever he felt over everything that happened, her feelings were beyond that. He couldn’t ask her to return with him on a possibility. She needed -- she deserved -- absolute certainty. He couldn’t put her through any more heartache.

No, Liam didn’t want to let Charlotte go … but he loved her enough to do it because he knew that she deserved better than him. She deserved a chance at a happy future, even if that meant that he wasn’t a part of it.

“Please … please don’t think this is a reflection on you, Liam. It’s not. I know that you tried. We tried. I know that you never meant for any of this, and it’s not your fault. I know who’s to blame … and it’s not-”

Charlotte was cut off as Liam cupped her face in his hands and leaned down, capturing her lips. They both tasted the salt from their tears. And they both felt their own hearts shatter just a bit more, knowing this was goodbye.

They parted, and Liam rested his forehead against hers. “I’m sorry,” he whispered as his breath hitched in his throat. “I’m so sorry that I failed you, Charlotte. I’m sorry that I couldn’t protect you … and that I couldn’t be the person you deserve …”

“Stop,” Charlotte cried. “You’re more than I deserve … and you didn’t fail me, Liam. I got to love you … and that means everything to me.”

Liam’s brows furrowed as he pressed his lips to hers once more. When he pulled back, he lifted his head and kissed her forehead, letting his lips linger there for a moment. Charlotte felt a tear fall from his cheek onto her own, and she squeezed her eyes shut as he wrapped his arms around her.

This was goodbye. And they weren’t just saying goodbye to each other; it was so much more than that. It was goodbye to the happiness and laughter they brought to one another. It was goodbye to their inside jokes and the ones they never got to make. It was goodbye to all of the what-ifs and plans they had made. They were turning this page, knowing they wouldn’t be in each other’s next chapter.

It fucking hurt.

After a while, Charlotte opened her eyes, still in Liam’s arms, as her tears continued to fall. “I want you … to try and be happy, Liam … because you deserve that. You deserve to be happy.”

Liam subtly shook his head as he looked up at the night sky. How the hell was he supposed to be happy with anyone but her? He wouldn’t be. Not ever. “You deserve that too …” he whispered. “Where … where are you going to go? What are you going to do?”

“I made some arrangements for now. But you don’t need to worry about me … I’ll be okay.” Hopefully. Maybe, someday. Liam’s arms tightened around her. After a long, tearful embrace, Charlotte finally stepped back and wiped her cheeks. “I, uh … I should probably go.”

If she didn’t go now, she wasn’t going to be able to walk away from him. Charlotte swore she could feel her heart break in two as she looked at him; the pain, hurt, and longing in his eyes matched that of her own. She reached up and pulled Liam down, giving him one last powerful kiss, pouring everything she was feeling into it as his arms wrapped tightly around her. They slowly parted, and she stepped back, looking up at him.

It took her a moment to utter the words, knowing once she did, that was it. It was over. This was by far the hardest thing she ever had to do. And the worst part of it all was standing there, watching his heart break as he tried to hold onto the shattered pieces of hers.

Finally, she took a breath and held it as she forced herself to say the words. “Goodbye, Liam.”

Liam looked down, unable to look her in her eyes as he replied, “Goodbye, Charlotte.” He heard her turn and listened to her footsteps slowly fade away. He glanced up a moment later, chewing the inside of his cheek, feeling more tears fall as he watched her disappear.

They parted with nothing but the memories and the solace that maybe one day their paths might cross again.

*******

•Four Months Later•

Charlotte sat in the living room of her apartment, staring at the television; the movie If Only was playing on Netflix. She had a plethora of snacks next to her on the sofa and a container of ice cream in her lap as she scowled at the screen. Why do I even watch these? It is such a load of crap.

The sound of her phone ringing pulled her from her scathing thoughts. She reached over, seeing her friend Sonia’s name flashing across the screen; she hit the speaker button before turning her attention back to the television. “Yello?”

“Hey, loser! Me and some of the girls are going out. Wanna come?”

“Oh, see, I’d love to, but I can’t. I have a date with sweatpants, Netflix, and a container of Chunky Monkey.”

“That sounds absolutely pitiful.”

“It really is,” Charlotte let out a sigh.

Sonia could hear the television in the background. “Whatcha watching?”

“If Only.”

“A sappy romance movie in your state?”

“My state is just fine, thank you very fucking much. Oh, here comes this part …”

“I have to tell you this, and you need to hear it. I loved you since I met you, but I wouldn't allow myself to truly feel it until today. I was always thinking ahead, making decisions soaked with fear. Today, because of you … what I learned from you, every choice I made was different, and my life has completely changed … and I've learned that if you do that, then you're living your life fully … it doesn't matter if you have five minutes or 50 years. If not for today, if not for you, I would never have known love at all. So thank you for being the person who taught me to love … and to be loved.”

“Oh, shut the fuck up!” Charlotte hollered, grabbing a handful of chocolate chip cookies and throwing them at the screen. She spooned a large portion of ice cream into her mouth as her eyes, stinging with tears, stayed locked on the movie.

Sonia chuckled, “And you say your state is fine ...”

“Hush.”

“You need to find an outlet for this pent-up anger and sadness. You know what you need? You need to get laid! It’s been months! Which is why you should come out with us tonight! We’ll find you a nice, suitable bachelor to take you home and just dick you down real good!”

Charlotte rolled her eyes. “I don’t need to be dicked down, Sonia.”

“Okay, well … write it out then.”

“Huh?”

“You’re a writer! You write something, get everything you’re feeling out. Then you toss it away. Hopefully, those pent-up thoughts and feelings will go with it.”

“Write what, though?”

“Whatever your sad little broken heart desires. A book. An article. A letter to yourself … to him. Whatever you feel like having it be. It’s not like it will ever see the light of day. You’re supposed to throw it away with all those feelings when you’re finished.”

“Look at you being all therapeutic.”

“Well, take what you will from it. I did have four glasses of wine already,” Sonia chuckled. “Okay, I’m heading out. I’ll be at Kismet if you change your mind!”

Charlotte ended the call and stared back at the television. She scowled again. Watching a movie about fate, destiny, and what-ifs was probably not the best idea. She had plenty of what-ifs, should-haves, and could-have-beens of her own.

In the four months since deciding to stay in New York, Charlotte had gone through what she assumed were the typical stages of a bad breakup … if that’s what she could even call what happened between her and Liam. She went with it.

First, she was sad. Just fucking miserable all the goddamn time. She cried a lot. Her heart physically hurt, something she didn’t even know was possible. She felt constant regret. She questioned if she made the right choice to stay behind and not to fight harder. But it was too late now. What was done was done.

And she missed Liam.

To create a distraction for herself, determined not to be a walking blubbering mess the rest of her life, Charlotte re-enrolled in school. She didn’t need but a few credits to finish; one semester and she would be done. Once school started, her sheer heartache turned to gloom. She was the walking, human version of Eeyore. That ass. She was still sad, but the tears had stopped. Mostly.

And she still missed Liam.

With her graduation on the horizon, Charlotte started interning at the Herald. Her gloom then turned to this. Charlotte had turned into a slightly angry, bitter, and salty bitch who ate her feelings in the form of various sweets and Ben & Jerry’s ice cream, generally paired with a few full-to-the-brim glasses of wine. She wasn’t angry with Liam, just the situation. She was absolutely angry with Constantine and Tariq, however, wishing them both very graphic and detailed harm inside her head.

And … she still missed Liam.

Charlotte let out a breath as her eyes settled on her laptop sitting on her coffee table; Sonia’s suggestion rang in her head. Write it out. She moved the half-eaten container of Chunky Monkey off her lap and grabbed the laptop, opening it up and going to a blank document.

The cursor blinked, taunting her for a good 30 minutes as she struggled to decide what to write. She had so much that she wanted to get out, thinking about everything that happened from the moment she stepped foot in Cordonia. She was the only one who came out of that experience damaged, even though she did absolutely nothing wrong. Her name and reputation were still tarnished. And the longer she let that sit with her over the months, the angrier she became. She had wanted to blow the lid off the whole story on more than one occasion, wanting to let everyone know who was really to blame, but thought better of it each time the idea arose. It wouldn’t help anyone. Not her. Not Liam. And it certainly wasn’t going to bring them back together.

Suddenly, that same idea struck her again. She could write that out. Her side. She could merely pretend to blow the lid off the story by writing her personal experience. She wasn’t sure it would release everything she was feeling, but it was worth a shot. She was just going to toss it when she was done anyway, just like Sonia said.

It would never see the light of day.

Charlotte’s fingers hovered over the keyboard for a moment before she finally began typing. After a few moments, she reached over and grabbed the carton of ice cream, scooping another spoonful into her mouth as she read over what she had already typed out:

A nobility social season refers to the traditional annual period when it is customary for members of a social elite society to hold balls, dinner parties, and charity events. The social season has always played a role in the political life of the countries that host such events. But the season also provides an opportunity for once of age women to be formally introduced and presented before the men of nobility. Take, as an example, the small country of Cordonia that lies in the Mediterranean.

I was fortunate enough to be asked to travel to Cordonia to compete for a Prince’s hand during his social season.

Or so I thought …

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

If you want to see Charlotte and Liam get their happy ending, you can read it in the original Full Disclosure story.

#trr #choices trr #the royal romance #choices the royal romance #trr liam #trr mc #king liam #trr liam x mc #choices liam x mc #king liam x mc #trr king liam x mc #choices king liam x mc #trr fanfic #trr fan fic #trr fanfiction #choices trr fanfic #trr au #choices trr au

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ficsilike-reblogged · 3 years

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Sweetest of Exiles - Two

A/N: The response to this little story has been insane! Thank you all so much for your kind words, it means the world to me. I hope you continue to like this very self-indulgent fic that has grown to be one of my favorite things I’ve written (even if most of it was written while sipping sprite+merlot).

Pairing: Oberyn Martell x F!Reader (no Y/N), Oberyn Martell x Pero Tovar, Pero Tovar x F!Reader

Warnings for this Chapter: MORE MAGIC!, Angst, blood and a bit of gore, not super-descriptive smut, Oberyn sometimes uses sex to make people smile. And it works. I once again wrote and “edited” this while sipping wine. All mistakes will probably not be edited. If you want to read more about Oberyn being in love with love, check out @pettyprocrastination and her wonderful hc’s about our favorite prince here!

Word Count: 7.6k (oops)

(banner by my darling @starlight-starwrites)

CHAPTER TWO: The Prince

Oberyn was only slightly amused when he heard the unmistakable sound of Pero grumbling (growing steadily louder) and a feminine reply (remaining calm and level, much to Oberyn’s delight) carry on for nearly the entire night before reaching a crescendo of an annoyed huff and a slammed door.

It would seem few people would actually sleep that night.

“She sounded pleased to see you.”

“Shut up, princeling.”

Oberyn only laughed.

When the sun came up the next day and the small company was ready to depart the ruined castle, Oberyn found himself beside the Magistrate, Orestes, as they set off toward Myr. Pero was leading the caravan while the lady—to whom Oberyn still hadn’t been formally introduced—was sequestered away in a carriage they had found in the castle’s stables. Orestes had muttered something about that it was one of the carriages of their original traveling party but no one seemed to care much. All of the men in their company kept their distance from the small carriage, strangely wary of getting too close.

All of it was so odd to Oberyn. He did not seem to feel what the other men were feeling. The all-too-brief glimpse he had stolen had proven she was a woman—beautiful and bloody—but not some formidable monster to fear.

If anything, the prince would have described her as delicate. Beautiful, obviously, but delicate.

A sudden shout from the back of the company had almost everyone turning to see a wave of fire encase the last standing spire of the castle before bleeding into the rest of the ruins. Oberyn’s dark gaze caught movement from the carriage; a hand slipping back into the shadows behind the curtains, skin dripping with something-

“Strange, is it not?” Orestes asked, looking at the fire. “Perhaps one of the men left a torch burning.”

Oberyn hummed an agreement but did not forget the strange sight of her hand slipping away just as the fires reached its crescendo. “Tell me about your lady, Magistrate. I have not had the pleasure of being introduced, yet.”

And Orestes quickly did, regaling the prince with tales of his time in Qohor and how Lord Ollo had been kind if not cold but his daughter was warm and welcoming and always ready to host him for a meal at their manse in the forest. “But it seems that the people of Qohor know very little about them aside from their names and how much power they can wield and how much gold they kept. They whisper that her mother was a sorceress, devoted to the god of Qohor and trained in Asshai. Gifted in magicks and all things arcane.”

“Have you not met her?”

Orestes shook his head. “Dead before I came to Qohor. And no one seems to be willing to speak of it. Tovar has met her, to my knowledge. My lady has told me that her mother used to bring him sweets after running around the forest outside their manse, gathering kindling for her hearth.”

“She spoke to you of Tovar?”

“Briefly, only a handful of times. Truly, until I met him, I did not make the connection of her childhood friend Pero and Tovar. She seems to guard their time together like a secret.”

“As does Tovar.”

Orestes turned his head to look at him, dark brows knitted together. “Does he not speak of her? If I held her notice for even a moment, I would never stop speaking of the time I basked in her attention. For it truly is a gift.”

Oberyn had to keep himself from smiling at the sound of unadulterated awe and obvious adoration of the magistrate’s voice. It was almost pathetic. But it was refreshing to know that at least someone was completely aware and proud of their feelings. Not that Oberyn was disappointed in Pero…right?

“She truly is someone to be treasured.” Orestes sighed and Oberyn bit back another laugh. “But, you said you have not been introduced? I thought surely Tovar would have made introductions. Then again, I thought I had hit my head when I first saw you together—seeing double.” He laughed. Oberyn did not. “May I introduce you?”

Oberyn easily found Pero’s form through the crowd and sighed. Stubborn man. “Yes, I would like that very much.”

The pair slowed their horses’ pace to flank the carriage and Orestes knocked at the carriage door as it rumbled along the old road. The half-torn curtain across the window slid away and the woman leaned her head out, greeting them with a smile. She looked far better than she had the last time Oberyn had seen her. Gone was the blood and the swelling had left her face—truly, if he did not know what state she had been found in, Oberyn would have just thought her a bit tired from her travels. Curious.

“My lady, I hope we have not disturbed your rest.”

“Of course not, Orestes. You know I welcome our little chats.”

Orestes cheeks bloomed with a blush and he ducked his chin for a moment. “As I treasure yours, my lady. But I would be remiss if I did not introduce you to Prince Oberyn Nymeros Martell.” Orestes waved a hand toward him as he said her name, calling her The Lady of the Dark Wood.

Strange, Oberyn thought. Petal suited her much better.

She leaned a little further out of the small window and smiled at him. “You are far from Dorne, my prince.”

“You know of my country?” He asked. It was rare that someone from Essos knew much of Westeros aside from a few of the cities and trading ports.

Her smile widened and she looked radiant. “Only from my books. I would love to hear more, if you are welcome to the idea.”

“I am always happy to tell others of the beauty of my home.”

“Perhaps we could compare our homes,” Orestes interjected, his eyes narrowed just a touch as he looked at Oberyn before turning to smile at her.

She hummed, acknowledging Orestes, before her eyes cut back to Oberyn with some unspoken twinkle in her gaze. “I should like to hear of your home when we make camp.”

And she made good on her easily-dismissible comment, searching him out when they made camp that night. They were still a day’s ride from Myr Pero had commanded they stop for the night, not wanting to ride in the dark (and then the man all but disappeared with a handful of other men to search for something to hunt for the evening meal.)

She slipped from the carriage as the small band of men made camp and even helped one of the younger ones stabilize one of the poles on the muddied ground that surrounded them. The boy gave her a half-tilted smile in return and then hurried to finish the work for his tent.

Oberyn smiled as she approached, looking near-ethereal despite the bloodied wrappings around her arms and legs, peeking out from between her fine gown. He had just about finished setting up his tent and—just for a moment—lost his concentration as he watched her come closer. And the rope in his hand suddenly slipped from his grip, and the grounding stake scratched against his palm and tore at his skin.

The tent’s wall flapped in the wind until he grabbed it again and quickly righted the stake.

“Are you hurt?” Without waiting for his answer, she took his hand with a hum rumbling at the back of her throat. “It is not too deep.” Her dexterous fingers slid over the wound and he bit back a small hiss of pain. Blood oozed and she did not move her gaze from the wound as her fingers carefully bracketed the cut. “You will heal.” She pressed the small bit of blood between her thumb and forefinger, swirling it around to coat her skin, almost absentmindedly. Circling, circling, circling until it was only a thin coat of crimson on the pads of her fingers. A long breath pushed out from between her lips. “Most interesting.”

“What is?” He barely noticed that the sting from the wound lessened as soon as she pulled back.

She looked up at him and then wiped his blood against her skirts with a small smile, revealing nothing. “I hope you do not mind if I came to you before camp was settled.”

“Of course not, my lady. I am sure your company is much more pleasant than my brothers in arms.” He fastened the last tie on the tent and then held the flap back for her, silently inviting her inside.

The furnishings were a little grander than some of the other men’s belongings, but still probably far less than what she was accustomed to, if her fine dress (and Orestes’ constant blathering about her home) indicated. But she settled on his small, elevated bedroll without hesitation and patted the blanket next to her.

“I am sure you have many stories of your adventures. I hope you do not mind if I hoard your time for the evening.”

Oberyn couldn’t help but smile as he sat beside her after making sure the tent flap was tied open, allowing her to keep her propriety. He glanced down at his hand to see the cut seemed…like it had been healing for a handful of days already. He had seen stranger things—had read stranger still during his time at the Citadel. But this—she—was something to behold.

“But it seems you have stories to tell me too, my lady.”

Her smile widened. “You’re a bit more observant than your companions.” She leaned forward and, just for a moment, Oberyn caught a glint in her eye that made him think of a caged lion. But then it was gone. “What would you know?”

They spoke throughout the night, only leaving each other’s sides for a moment to retrieve a bit of food to sate their hunger, before retreating back to his tent. (Oberyn noticed how she, ever so briefly, sought to find Pero in the crowd and found nothing but unfamiliar faces before she turned back to him.) They spoke of everything—of their childhoods, their cultures, their parents, of their losses. But Oberyn knew she was waiting for him to ask the question he had, biding his time. And he noticed how she would easily skirt around Pero’s presence and absence in her life.

His dark eyes flittered down to the wound on his hand—now almost completely healed. When she caught him looking at it, she smiled over the rim of the wine jug she had produced from the depths of one of her trunks in the carriage.

“Ask, my prince. I know you want to.”

“How?” He asked simply.

Her smile widened and she handed him the jug. “You must be more specific. That question has many answers.”

Oberyn huffed, fighting a smile, and held up his hand. “The Maesters of Westeros have long said magic was all but gone from the world. It died with the last dragon, they said. And here you are, alive and well.”

She laughed, a light sound that had him laughing, too. “I am not magic incarnate, my prince. But it is true, most magic has been tied to dragons, to the wills of men who eventually shunned it for other things. But there are a few who have been blessed by they who watch.”

“The gods,” Oberyn said, knowing what she was saying. He took a quick gulp of wine before setting the jug aside, wanting to focus on her and the glint in her beautiful eyes.

She nodded and then reached out to take her hand in his. “Every gift comes with a price. Mine has been paid in blood and it requires constant recompense. I have touched your blood. You have paid a price. I must give you something in return.” Her smile was gentle as her finger traced the healed wound. “You have a great love ahead of you, my prince.”

He chuckled. “Oh? Have the gods found someone who will tame me?”

“Not tame you. No, no. They will never stifle or control you. Theirs is a gentleness to balance your wrath.”

“When will I meet them?”

She shook her head and pulled back her touch, leaving a cold spot on his skin. “I cannot see dates or years. I simply…see what I am allowed.”

“Have you seen Pero?”

Her answering smile was small—she did seem fond of smiling. “I have. Often. Even without the blood price, I would see him in my dreams. I dreamt of him the night he left, you know. And the night before he came again. A quiet comfort, to be sure. I had been selfish in year before, calling on the blood to show me his face, just show me his face, so I could know that he is well.”

And, just for a moment, Oberyn thought of a love-struck woman trying to catch a glimpse of her lover’s face in a crowded ballroom. But then he remembered what she had said—what Pero had said. “He left you?”

“Yes.” She said it so simply and it seemed to echo in his chest. “In the middle of the night. The day before my nameday, too.” She hummed. “A cruel present, my father called it.”

“Did he ever-”

“Tell me why? No. And he scarcely met my eye last night and then…” her words died on her tongue. “I am suddenly just a child again. Hoping for the boy I love to notice me.” The next laugh she let out was filled with bitterness. “Did he ever…speak of me?”

And Oberyn was nothing if not honest. “He did not, my lady.”

“Call me Petal. I know you think it suits me more.”

“You do not let the Magistrate call you Petal.”

“No. I do not.” She reached out to him and Oberyn readily placed his hands in hers. “But that can be our little secret, hm? Now, ask me anything. I know you have more questions running through your mind, and they do not involve Pero.”

“True. I do want to know everything about you. But I would be remiss if I did take the chance to ease your heart’s burden.”

“My heart is not burdened, my prince.”

“Call me Oberyn. And do not lie to me.”

She sighed but did not pull her hands from his even as she glanced away from his gaze. “It is silly to think of one person for so long and to know it is not returned or reciprocated. I tried to have him tell me why, last night. Why he left, why he did not care to tell me where he was going. And I only received his ire in return.”

“I do not believe it is ire, Petal,” he said, smiling at the sound of the nickname on his own tongue. It sounded right. “He is a stubborn man. Years of this life may have stifled that heart you knew as a young girl. But I promise you, it is still there. And it beats for you.”

“But are you certain, Oberyn? He has changed so much.”

“As have you, I am sure. But will you deny that your heart has not changed? At least when it comes to our shared companion.”

She shook her head, a smile starting to tilt up her lips once again. “I will not lie to you.” Her hands squeezed his. “You know, when we were children, Pero and I would spend almost all of our waking hours in the forest outside my home when my mother did not insist we attend lessons. The forest is almost always filled with mist and cloud—but that day, the sky itself seemed to want to seek the shelter of the trees. Pero would always count down between rolls of thunder, telling me he would know the exact moment the first bit of rain would fall. It was his gift, he said.”

The tent’s opening was suddenly filled by a dark figure.

Pero looked at him and then at the woman beside him. His dark eyes narrowed for just a moment but even as his face settled into a practiced apathy, Oberyn still saw the hardened gleam in his gaze. “I see you two have been introduced.”

“Join us, Pero,” she said with a hopeful tone. She held out a hand toward him. “I was just telling Oberyn of our time together in the forest—that time when we were caught in the rain-”

“It seems you have told him all that he needs knowing, my lady.” And while there was heat to his words, Oberyn heard the unmistakable hurt in his lover’s tone.

“Pero,” she said, “please.”

But he stepped back and disappeared back into the shadows of the camp.

“Oh,” was all she said before her hand slowly fell back down into her lap.

The sound of her own hurt stabbed at his chest and Oberyn quickly took his hands in hers and kissed her knuckles. He would have words with Pero later. But now, he would leave her alone. Not when he knew she felt so rejected. He would have her smile again. “Do not let him sour your mood, Petal. Am I not able to make you smile, too?”

She smiled, small, but it was still a smile. “I do believe you could rend smiles from stone, Oberyn.”

“Tell me more of Pero. Tell me anything you deem me worthy of knowing. Unburden your heart, at least for a moment.”

And that was when she finally pulled from his grasp and stood, walking to the tent’s opening. “Pero is…moonlight.” She hummed and angled her face up to look at the sliver of the moon. “It is lovely but untouchable.”

“There are stories about the moon being a man—a god—who loved a woman so much he came to this mortal plane to be with her.” Oberyn walked to her side and looked up at the moon, too, trying to see what she saw in that little ball of light.

“I think I’ve heard that myth. It ends sadly, doesn’t it?”

“Not all myths end poorly. Some are tales of hope, requited love, filled with joy.”

“I suppose that is true.” But her gaze did not move from the moon. “I suppose kissing a god would make an unhappy ending worth it, right?”

And she looked near ethereal in that soft light, so beautiful. And the prince always loved beauty. “Tell me, have you ever kissed a prince?”

“There are no princes in Qohor.” She turned from the moon to smile at him.

“Is that a ‘no,’ Petal?”

She laughed. “It is.”

And then Oberyn moved forward and pressed his mouth against her smiling lips. And she tasted so sweet—with a bite of something metallic—as he was able to lick into her wondrous mouth and her hands tugged at his tunic. Eager. His hands gently cupped her face and pulled her ever closer, letting her fall into his lap with another laugh against his mouth.

She was intoxicating.

Her fingers pushed into his hair and tugged just at the base of his neck, coaxing a moan from his throat. He only broke away to catch his breath, knocking his nose against hers and listening to the melodic tone of her breathless giggle. And then she was the one pressing forward to steal another kiss and then another and another.

And the prince would deny her nothing if it meant she smiled at him like that again. But he needed to know. “I am not him, Petal.”

“I know,” she whispered against his mouth. “And, tonight, that makes it all the better.” And she kissed him again.

His hands circled her waist and squeezed, just for a moment, before he reached out just enough to untie the last string on the tent’s flap, closing them off from the rest of the world as her mouth moved against his with ease.

Gently, ever so gently, he pulled at the laces of her grown and set it loose as he held her gaze.

“You may walk away at any time, Petal. Do not feel obligated.”

She shook her head and curled her fingers into his tunic, pulling him forward just a single step. “I am not obligated. I know you and I wish to know you.”

With that express permission, Oberyn took care to undress her slowly, carefully, like she was something holy, something—someone to be treasured. And she was. In the dim light of the tent, he marveled at her soft skin, the breathy sighs that slipped by her lips, and the decadent warmth she exuded as he sunk into her, letting his own sigh escape his mouth. She was magnificent. Her hips undulated in slow, smooth movements and his hands curled over her warm skin, needing to keep her close, to continue to feel her delicious cunt envelope him until he was truly spent.

“You are sublime, Petal.”

She gasped against his mouth as his grip tightened and he took control of her movement, hands tightening around her hips as his hips pistoned, faster and harder and then she was keening against his kiss-swollen lips and he felt her shake, felt her tight channel squeeze around his cock before a cry broke her lips. She threw her head back and his teeth sank into her skin, still chasing his own high. Again and again, his hips slammed into hers and then he was pulling out—just in time. He spilled across the skin of her thighs and stomach, painting her like some obscene canvas.

He leaned down to slant his mouth against hers and felt her smile against his lips.

“Oh, you make such pretty noises, Petal.”

“As do you, my prince. It has been a pleasure of my life to know I’ve caused them.” She gave a breathless laugh as his fingers swirled against the mess, rubbing it into her warm skin like a salve. Another happy sigh slipped by her lips as she reached up, fingers tracing across his chest. “I hurt you.”

He looked down to see four perfectly carved tracks over his heart. “It is nothing, Petal. A badge of honor.” Oberyn leaned down to steal a kiss against her pouting lips. “I will heal.” He murmured it against her lip and laughed when she huffed. “Now sleep. Or would you like me to tire you out?”

Oberyn woke with a start. The last thing he remembered was falling asleep with Petal curled over his chest and a bit of sweat cooling on his skin from their third bout of fucking—it had been peaceful and beautiful and wonderful. Waking up to find her crawling over his waist was and settling her weight on his stomach was not an unwelcome surprise but-

She did not look right. Perhaps it was the early morning light filtering in through the folds of the tent but her beautiful eyes were clouded, near milky, and then her clammy hands were grasping at his face, fingers pressing into his cheeks. “Lions and dogs on the wall and blood on stone.”

“Petal,” Oberyn whispered, gazing up into the unnatural depths of her eyes. “Petal, please-”

“The sun screams and is snuffed out.”

He reached up to grasp at her hands and let out a shuddering breath and her eyes shut. “Petal.” She felt cold under his hands. “Look at me.”

Her eyes opened and they were their usual, beautiful shade again. “The sun,” she said. “The sun…”

Oberyn wrapped his arms around her as he sat up on his bedroll, letting her shake in his grasp. “Where did you go, Petal? Tell me.”

She shook her head but sighed as his lips skirted down her shoulder. “You paid the price, my prince. And I gave what was paid for.”

“That was not like before—you were gone. Someone else took inhabited your skin.”

She shook her head. “The higher the price, the stronger the gift.” Her fingers tapped against the marks she had left on his chest.

“Is it always visions?”

She shook her head. “No. Not always.” Her head moved just enough to press another kiss against his shoulder before she stood and grabbed her discarded dress from the tent floor.

The casual way she said it had him thinking of her bloodied hand slipping back between the shades of the carriage just before the ruins were taken by fire. Not always visions, indeed. Oberyn watched her dress for a moment before rising and helping her tighten the lacings on the back. “Tell me. Why does your god demand such high a price?”

She turned to him as he finished and smiled. “I do not question him. He has given me a wonderful, fearsome gift and I will be welcomed by him with open arms when he calls for me.”

Oberyn had heard of the Black Goat worshiped in Qohor. A terrifying, dangerous god of death that some maesters called a demon. A god of death: strong and unwavering. “Why would you spend your life worshipping the end of it?”

“Death begets life begets death. Why should only one be worshipped? A good death is its own reward, is it not?”

Oberyn smiled and let his finger trail down her arm and grasped her hand in a soft grip before raising it to his mouth, pressing a kiss to her knuckles. “You speak as a warrior, my lady.”

“I am sure you have found most women are warriors in their own ways, my prince.” Her eyes sparkled with some unspoken jape before she pulled her hand out of his grasp.

He grabbed at the silken trail of her skirts like a besotted boy and let the fabric slide across his hands as he watched her leave, surrounded by the first rays of sunlight.

Pero was quiet as Oberyn urged his horse to his side.

“You disappeared last night.”

“What did she tell you?” Pero asked in return, tactlessly dodging Oberyn’s unanswered question.

Oberyn glanced back to see the familiar carriage still at the rear of the traveling party with Orestes keeping pace beside it. “She told me how you were her dearest friend and confidante during her childhood. She told me how you encouraged her gifts despite you not entirely understanding them.” Oberyn paused, watching the barest traces of emotions flicker by Pero’s features. Joy, sadness, fondness, despair—it was all there in the subtle ticks of his brows and the pull of his lips.

“Her father sent me away—three weeks to the day after her mother disappeared,” Pero bit out, hands tightening over his reins.

“For what reason?” Oberyn asked.

“He gave no reason. But he did not need to—it was obvious enough. I was a poor nobleman’s thirdborn son and she…”

Oberyn watched Pero’s face fall for just a moment before he looked away.

“It is of no consequence. She is safe. I have seen her smile again. That is what matters.”

Oberyn had to stop himself from groaning. “Truly, Pero, you are more dramatic than a mummer.”

“Hold your tongue, princeling-”

“She loves you—loves you still. Anyone with eyes can see that.” He paused. “Except for the magistrate, it seems.” Pero huffed but that did not deter the Dornish prince. “Truly, and for someone I trust implicitly to see things I cannot when I have my back turned, you are blind.”

“Enough, Oberyn!”

“No! She cares for you—cares for you even after you treated her poorly and refuse to meet her eye like she is some dirty urchin who attempted to steal your coin.”

“You spend one night with her and suddenly you are her confidante?” He hissed in return. “Just because you have been between her legs does not mean you know her. She is far more than you could ever hope to imagine.”

Oberyn reached out and grabbed Pero’s tunic, hauling him close before he could take his next breath. His horse whined at the sudden jostle of its saddle. “Do not speak of her like that. Do not speak of me like that. You are angry; at yourself, at the world, at the gods. But you do not have the right to shun her gentle smiles and company nor tell me I have used her like a woman in a brothel. We sought each other’s company when you spurned us.” Pero pulled out of his grip but Oberyn did not stop. “She asks for you, about you, every time. You have told me that no one is worthy of her attention or affection—but she has made it abundantly clear that she wishes to have your affections in the way you have garnered hers. She loves you, Pero. Loves you still. Do not run away for her again.”

But Pero only urged his horse faster, setting off toward the city finally coming into view. Oberyn only watched him go with a sigh and turned back to the rest of the company, telling them to ready for their entrance into the city.

Myr was beautiful—but it had been beautiful the last handful of times Oberyn had visited the city with the Second Sons. The city smelled of fresh earth and fresh linens and ink and filled with shining white stone structures and the bazaars were teeming with people selling their wares. Orestes was quick to show them to the ornate stables near the gates, making sure to loudly proclaim that their steeds were to be taken care of as if they belonged to Orestes. The carriage was also carted off and stored, Petal’s trunks quickly carried away by a small fleet of servants.

The Magistrate was instantly greeted like a prince or a king and quickly lauded by the crowds as they stepped out of the stables and closer toward the center of the sprawling city. Oberyn watched Orestes reach out a hand for Petal and she took it with a small smile, letting him pull her along into the crowd toward a large, gleaming building that had bits of greenery trickling up toward the carved windows. A villa, he supposed it was called.

The rest of the company followed Oberyn up the half set of steps and largely ignored the guards posted at the entryway who looked confused at their presence and waffling between barring them entry or simply standing aside. The inside of the villa was just as ornate as the outside, filled with carved columns and opulent stonework. The tapestries and carpets the city was famed for covered the walls and lined the halls and everything smelled of the dye Oberyn knew the Myrish artisans used to create a distinct shade of red.

It was not unpleasant, but a strange smell to be sure.

Orestes seemed uncaring that a group of mercenaries had come into his home and continued to point this or that thing out to her, telling her how much he paid for it or how it was made. And Petal, for her part, did seem interested in the words coming out of the magistrate’s mouth. Her easy smile never faded or turned strained and he heard her ask a question or two in return. Always a perfect lady.

Oberyn found himself smiling when she did, catching her eye when she turned and winking and delighting in the small laugh he earned every time. But then his mood was somewhat soured by the fact that Pero had quickly fallen to the back of the group, as if trying to keep as much distance as possible from Petal.

It hurt him, to see her rejected so openly. Even as Orestes had them all settled into the numerous guest rooms his villa provided and made sure they all had steaming tubs of water brought in for baths, Pero never once tried to slip away to try to find her. He stayed with Oberyn in their shared room, inspecting and re-inspecting his weapons while waiting for Oberyn to finish his bath. Orestes had invited several other magistrates for a celebratory dinner and to show his appreciation to the small mercenary company he had employed—and heartily paid already.

“Are you going to speak to her tonight or continue to sulk like a scolded boy?”

Pero’s head snapped up and he scowled. “I am not sulking.”

The prince only hummed and rose from the water. He felt Pero’s familiar gaze trail down his back and tried not to smirk—knowing the view was being appreciated—and grabbed the fine linen provided to dry off. “You are. And if you do not at least try to speak to Petal tonight, I will have to take matters into my own hands.”

Pero stood, setting aside his weapons and started undressing to ready for his own bath. “Oh? Is that a threat princeling?”

Oberyn wrapped the linen around his waist and turned to face his lover. “Yes.”

When dinner, a veritable feast, was called and everyone was escorted into a large hall, draped with red fabric and gilded statues of snarling lions, Oberyn made certain that Pero was seated beside his lady. This earned him a brief side-eyed glance from the magistrate but Oberyn paid him no mind—he had dealt with far more and was not afraid of the nobleman. He was too busy taking care of the hearts of two people he cared about—the magistrate could pout.

He watched her eyes light up as Pero took his seat and she slowly, ever so slowly, started to pull conversation from the taciturn man while largely pacifying the magistrate with simple answers or anecdotes in response to his longwinded questions or stories. The other magistrates tried to gain Oberyn’s attention but he was too busy trying to guess what the pair were saying to each other from the other side of the room. But he was happy when he saw Pero’s face almost seem to shudder before his lips pulled into the briefest of smiles, aimed only at her as she turned to her plate to stab at another carrot.

“Prince Oberyn, they say Dorne is filled with the finest mounts the world has ever seen. Sandy steeds, they’re called, no?”

“Sand steeds,” Oberyn corrected without looking at the man beside him. “And yes, they are the best in the world. Can run for a day, a night, and another day without faltering.”

“Surely not!” The man guffawed. “Not horse can-”

Oberyn’s head finally snapped to the side at that. “Perhaps the horses on your continent tire easily, but I assure you, the Dornish do not.”

The man at Oberyn’s side looked like he had been slapped. “I meant no offence, your grace.”

“Then take care with your words. I am a lenient man but I may not be so next time you speak out of turn.”

The man’s face somehow paled to a color similar of curdled milk while his neck became a violent shade of scarlet. “O-of course.”

Oberyn, satisfied, turned back his favorite show continue to unfold.

Just before the last course was served—some sweet dish Oberyn only half-enjoyed—Pero smiled again. And Petal smiled with him.

Oberyn could not help his own answering smile from spreading across his face.

The festivities—if Oberyn could even call them that with the level of boredom he had endured for politeness sake—had lasted long into the night and most of the revelry had moved from inside the villa to the sprawling, marbled pools that dotted the grounds. Some of the company took part, never willing to turn down free food and wine, but Oberyn was content to watch everyone else (mostly) enjoy themselves. Petal, unfortunately, had been drawn back to Orestes’ side after the meal had finished and Pero had pouted like a child in the shadows for a moment before taking a plate of food and walking back to his room. The magistrate paraded her around like a prized trophy, making all of his guests wonder at her presence—Oberyn thought, just for a moment, if Orestes even had an inkling of who the woman on his arm was or could become with the right push.

For a few moments, Oberyn entertained himself with a pretty servant girl before letting her go back to her duties after another servant spilt a large jug of wine across the floor and caused a fuss. But during the distraction, Petal managed to slip away from Orestes’ side and met Oberyn in the shadows. He handed her the chalice of wine he had and smiled when she took a large gulp.

“Your magistrate seems fond of you.”

“He is fond of seeming like a hero even you and your men were the ones to rescue me.”

Oberyn plucked the chalice from her hand and polished off the rest of the wine. “I do believe you might have rescued yourself, Petal.”

Her eyes sparkled in the low light and she smiled. Her fingers tugged at the simple belt of fabric around his waist to bring him forward just a few steps, closing the distance between them. Her lips brushed against his and he could taste the wine on her smile.

“You are a good man, my prince. I want you to know that.”

He leaned into her, stealing her breath as he licked into her mouth for just a moment. “And you have another good man waiting for you in our chambers. I shall keep the magistrate busy.”

She hummed and kissed him again before slipping further into the shadows of the villa in search of her moonlight.

Oberyn watched her go with a sigh before plucking another chalice of wine from a servant’s hands and quickly drinking it down. Pero would thank him later, he was sure. And as the moon continued its rise into the starry sky, Oberyn entertained and distracted the magistrate and his guests with stories of Dorne and the sellsword company’s exploits across Essos. Whenever he saw Orestes’ eyes start to wander, looking for his missing companion, Oberyn would start another story and make sure Orestes’ cup was filled. And soon—but not soon enough, in Oberyn’s mind—almost everyone had retired for the rest of the night, needing to sleep off their overfilled stomach or partake in a bit more of a carnal delight in the quiet of their chambers.

Oberyn smiled as he started to find his way toward his chambers and witnessed a few servants taking advantage of their lack of duties to kiss each other slowly in the darkened hallways. A quiet reprieve, well earned.

The halls twisted and turned but Oberyn eventually found the door to his and Pero’s chambers and slowly pushed it open, hoping to not disturb anything that might be transpiring. But he let out a disappointed sigh when he only saw Pero sleeping on the large featherbed. His discarded (and empty) tray was haphazardly placed on the bedside table. At least he was consistent.

Oberyn shed his tunic and slipped beneath the silken blankets, smiling when Pero turned toward him, seeking warmth.

“Where is she?” Pero murmured without opening his eyes.

“Did she not come see you?” Oberyn asked with a frown.

“She was only here for a moment.” The words were slurred on his tired tongue, eyes still not open. “Said she would come back…” The words drifted off and were punctuated by a hearty snore.

Oberyn sighed and pushed his head against the overstuffed pillows. Difficult. They were both so difficult.

For the second time in just as many days, Oberyn woke with a start. But now it was not the welcoming warmth of a woman’s thighs bracketing his own that woke him from sleep.

No. It was the quiet scrape of metal on metal, of hurried footsteps of someone striving to be quiet. Sounds which only meant danger.

Oberyn swept aside the blankets and stood, walking over to the window to see a group approaching, dark hoods and cloaks obscuring their features. One by one, the group moved almost-silently into the villa. Their weapons were drawn and ready; strange, foreign shapes he had never seen before with long handles. Oberyn looked to Pero to see him with his swords already in his hands despite his lack of armor.

Oberyn grabbed his own sword and they both ventured out into the dark hall. Soft sounds of a struggle grew louder and louder with each step they took. A door to their right suddenly burst open and a half-dressed nobleman ran out into the hall. A quick glance into the room showed the bodies of another man and the pretty servant girl Oberyn had kissed only hours before. The hooded forms they had spied earlier had filled the room while more were stalking silently down the hall—they cut down the nobleman before he reached the next turn of the hall.

Oberyn and Pero both turned just in time to skewer a pair of hooded men who were slipping up behind them.

“We have the girl. It is not your life we want,” one of the men said in a strange, strained accent. “Lay down your weapons and you will not be harmed.”

Someone—a woman—yelled and their eyes were drawn to her—to Petal—once again in the arms of a man who meant her harm at the end of the hall. But her eyes were not the glassy, tired eyes he had spied only briefly back in the castle ruins. These were alight with…something. Something dark.

There was a short shout and then the unmistakable thud of a body hitting stone. She stood over the corpse, blood dripping from a small wound at her shoulder and more pooling beneath her feet from her would-be kidnapper. It glimmered like black ink in the moonlight.

She moved like water, skirts lifting and pulling as if invisible waves had surrounded her. Slow and steady—deadly, like a rising tide. Words poured from her mouth in a language he did not understand and sounded shrill to his ears.

Pero’s hand on his arm kept him from moving forward.

“She needs-”

“She knows exactly what she is doing, princeling.” Pero’s dark eyes flittered over to her and looked almost…soft and sad. “Let her do what she needs.”

Her hand raised toward the group of men. Their slow steps stopped.

“The demon,” one of them hissed.

Her fingers uncurled, knuckles pointed and skin tight.

One stupid man took a single step toward her, blade held out in front of him. And then the words came again and the man froze, foot hovering over the ground. A terrible scream wrenched its way from the man’s throat. His face purpled. Blood started to spill from the corners of his eyes, his mouth, his ears.

“It was you! You did this!”

“Demon!” another shouted.

Oberyn didn’t understand and he could not take his eyes away from the man starting to convulse in front of him, like some sort of morbid mummer. The convulsions grew faster and faster and the screams he let out grew more and more pained until his chest split open like an egg and blood came rushing out. It sprayed over her dress and she walked forward, hand still outstretched. More words he did not understand tumbled on her tongue and the hooded men took a collective step back. But it did not help. One by one, each one of them started to shake and fall. The blood beneath her feet almost seemed to ripple with a heartbeat—her heartbeat, Oberyn surmised. She truly was a woman to be feared and loved. Sublime.

Shouts in Ghiscari soon filled the air. They were quickly snuffed out by the crack of ribs and spines, of bodies hitting stone.

Oberyn looked to Pero to see him quietly watching this woman, a strangely soft look in his eyes. He saw all of her. But maybe he always had.

There was another noise behind them and Oberyn turned, ready to fight, but only saw Orestes, still in his sleeping clothes. The magistrate stared at her with wonder in his eyes as soon as he stepped out into the hall. “You wondrous being. I always knew you were-”

A zealot’s body falling to the ground at his feet and the sudden gush of blood spattering against his skin quickly halted any other words on the magistrate’s tongue.

Two guards, tired and confused, seized the last handful of zealots and disarmed them. They could face punishment for their crimes here in Myr. Perhaps that would make everything easier for Orestes to explain away.

But that did not matter.

She did.

The hall grew quiet except for her labored breathing and then her knees hit the blood-covered stone.

“I want to go home,” she whispered. And even covered in blood, and having just slaughtered the men who would have harmed her for their own gain—she looked delicate. Not fragile—never fragile. But delicate. “Please, Pero. Take me home.”

Pero nodded immediately and sheathed his swords. He bent down to her and hoisted her into his arms, uncaring of the blood she trailed across his tunic. “I’ve got you, Petal. I’ll take you home.”

Oberyn watched Pero walk away with his Petal, heading toward the stables, and he only just caught her looking over Pero’s shoulder. With a bloody finger, she beckoned him to come along.

He could not say no.

#oberyn martell x reader #pero tovar x reader #oberyn martell imagine #pero tovar imagine #game of thrones imagine #game of thrones #asoiaf #the great wall

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timextoxhajima · 3 years

Text

Love Me A Little Less: Chapter 4 - The Guest

LOVE ME A LITTLE LESS CHAPTER MASTERLIST

Member: (3rd person pov) arranged marriage au with Lee Juyeon

Genre: angsty wangsty

Taglist: @sunwoowuvbot @hyunjaethereal

“Get the guest out of my fucking office.”

Jang Won grimly knocks on the door, looking down to ensure Younghoon was carrying more than a fruit basket - a briefcase, worth half a million in cash, in case she needed to bribe a certain someone. Her eyes befall the apple sitting in the fruit basket, and she peels apart the wrapper to remove the bruised item, mindlessly hurling it into the trash can right by the lift.

The door clicks open, the sound of the door chain reminding her that she needs to handle this one with care and caution.

“What are you doing here?”

“Hi Mrs Nam, I’m Kim Jang Won and this is--”

“I know who you are. I’m asking what you’re here for.”

“Straight to the point I see,” Jang Won cocks a brow. “Look, we don’t want to make things difficult for you, but we’d just like to find out if you happened to know anything about the body swap regarding your husband.”

Mrs Nam’s breathing gets stuck in her throat. She swallows, eyes flitting back and forth between Jang Won and Younghoon.

“I know nothing. After he died, I visit him every month. I didn’t even know his body was moved until the news.”

Jang Won feels like she’s being strangled, all her nerves shutting down one by one like a tidal surge through her. But Younghoon tugs on the end of her blazer, out of sight, and shifts to talk to Mrs Nam instead.

“Do you mind if we come in and have a chat about it? We’d just like to know more about Mr Nam so we can figure out who did it. Don’t you at least want to know who shifted your husband’s body?”

A hint of curiosity and anger flickers in her eyes despite the slight hesitation. Mrs Nam subtly nods, head looking down but gaze still stuck to Younghoon as she gently closes the door.

“You don’t have to be in there if you don’t want to,” He murmurs, loud enough for her to hear while watching her in the corner of his eyes.

Jang Won sniffles, finger rubbing the tip of her nose as she composes herself. The jingle of the chain being removed sounds through the door.

“I’ll be in there because I want to, not because I can.”

The door clicks open, and Mrs Nam keeps it wide for Jang Won and Younghoon to enter. The apartment is rather neat and simple - a couple of single sofa seats around a circular table and a standing television. Pictures on the shelves framing the television.

Drawn to the pictures first, Jang Won wanders to the photographs.

A son, older than Younghoon, stands in most of the pictures. A degree in culinary sciences. A picture shot in Paris. Multiple pictures in Europe. A family portrait of him and his wife, Caucasian.

Younghoon sits opposite Mrs Nam, who looks more tired and drained than anything else, like the anger from before has completely dissipated.

He glances through the pictures, aware that something must’ve caught his sister’s attention because Jang Won wasn’t being very focused now. “We just wanted to know more about him. He might’ve worked at Artemis and I’ve yet to check with his ex-colleagues but I just wanted to know if he was happy there, or if he wasn’t, did he have any... enemies?”

Mrs Nam takes in a deep breath, rubbing an eye before her hands come together on her lap. “No, he was happy, as far as I knew. The only thing he was upset about was my son moving to France and settling there. But otherwise, he was easy-going. Kind. Helpful. I can’t think of anybody who would want to deliberately shift his... body... because he had offended them.”

“I hate to be the one to suggest this but could your father have done anything to anger your son... to the point where--”

“No,” She says with such resolution, it finally tears Jang Won’s attention off the photos. “Never. Their love might’ve been tough but they’ll never do anything to hurt each other.”

Younghoon glances at his sister before returning to Mrs Nam. “So... nobody, huh?”

“None that I can think of.”

Jang Won blinks her emotions away, fingers fiddling with her rings as she looks to Younghoon. His eyes sink to the floor, licking his lips in slight anxiety as he realises they’ve hit a dead end.

They leave the apartment with only the briefcase, and Mrs Nam closes the door before they can even walk off. The lift ride was exceptionally quiet, Younghoon merely watching Jang Won zip in and out of reality in the reflection of the lift mirrors.

He looks over, watching the layer of tears thicken over her eyes. Reaching out and rubbing her shoulder, he contains the emotions he’s feeling, just by watching his cold-hearted sister reveal the hint of humanity in her.

“I told you not to go in if you couldn’t.”

“And I could,” Jang Won clears her throat. “I don’t need you to baby me. It’s been a long time anyway. I’ll deal with it.”

The lift door dings open, and sees Jang Won walking out the doors, leaving Younghoon behind as she struts off.

Unfortunately, this soft side of Jang Won remains short-lived, for Younghoon finds himself holding her back from tearing the skin off their father’s face when they reach home.

“What the Hell is this?” Jang Won frowns, facial lines deepening in her skin when the staff is crowded in her office but none of them were moving. Her father, standing by her desk, looks up from the loaded query.

“Ah, child! I was just waiting to--”

“Are you... moving into my office?”

Her father opens his mouth, lips wide enough for her to see her teeth when Mr Ro finally joins the party.

“What is going on here?”

“Sir,” One of the housemaids lowers her head, almost like she was embarrassed. “Our guest-- Mr Kim... asked for us to help shift Miss Kim’s belongings out of her office. We were told not to tell you.”

Jang Won’s eyes almost double in size when she processes the words, the tips of her feet already turning to her father. Mr Ro looks up from his subordinate with distaste and disapproval, unable to believe the things he was trying to accomplish.

“Just which part of June did you not fucking understand? Huh?” Jang Won takes one step forward, but Younghoon grabs her wrist and then wraps his palms around her upper arms. “Playing possum killed your braincells too?”

“No...! No! I wanted things to be early, smooth. So that you wouldn’t be pressured to shift out in June--”

“Bold of you to assume you’ll get it in June!” She hisses, harshly ripping herself out from Younghoon’s grip. “From now on you are a guest and a guest only. This is my house and you will touch nothing that does not belong to you.”

“Aw, come on, daughter--”

“Don’t--” She seethes, finger almost at his nose now. “Call me that. From now on, we just share the same surname... But if you want mercy on the account that I am something you created, then I’d rather you wait until I die.”

The staff in the room lower their head as she storms by them toward the door, and as dramatic as she is, she pulls the doors open and smiles widely at her staff. “A kind, kind reminder that all these people standing before you, Mr Kim Jo-Pil... they work for me. They answer to Mr Ro, and Mr Ro answers to me. So, shall you require any assistance in possibly fucking something else up... do get it to me through Mr Ro.”

She smiles sweetly, tilting her head to the side. “Now, get the guest out of my fucking office.”

The wind brushes through Juyeon’s hair relentlessly, his dark blue, almost black, locks ruffled and made messy in the wind. The yacht makes small jumps against the water, the sun reflected off the surface of the water and into his eyes, the motion of the vehicle spraying some of it onto his hands that were over the railing.

“Are you sure you want to get yourself involved in this... Jang Won and The Board, I mean,” Sunwoo joins Juyeon by the cockpit, grabbing a bottle of Sprite and cracking the cap open. He takes a sip and smacks his lips, letting the wind do its job in his hair too. “I mean, I know it wasn’t your choice but... that stunt at the press conference last week? Damn, son.”

Juyeon smirks and scoffs, looking at Sunwoo through the lens of his sunglasses. “Maybe it was fueled by her, I don’t know... But I’d be lying if I said being at the same table with her doesn’t make me feel powerful. It feels like I could do anything I wanted as long as she was by my side and it’d... it’ll work, you know?”

“‘It’ll work’?” Sunwoo chuckles sarcastically. “You’re talking about the most powerful figure of The Board of your generation. Hell, it’s Hera’s Princess you’re dealing with here. I’m sure if you played by her rules a hundred percent, she’d buy you an island if you wanted.”

The continuous splash of the water just a few metres down the railing brings some kind of peace to Juyeon, despite the idea of being married to Kim Jang Won being tasteless.

“What about her brother? The Prince of Artemis, right? Kim Younghoon. He must’ve had something to say about Apple-Korea’s next director smooching his little sister on national TV,” Sunwoo snorts, taking another gulp of his drink.

Juyeon shakes his head, apart from providing Sunwoo a patient smile. “I haven’t met her brother, actually. But word has it he’s the calmer of the two, which I’m actually pretty grateful for.”

“Maybe you should get acquainted with him. Get on Kim Jang Won’s good side by making friends with Kim Younghoon,” Sunwoo places the bottle back into the ice box, noticing the yacht slowing down to a halt. Juyeon peels himself off the railings, finally standing and giving his own limbs a big stretch.

“Nah,” Juyeon shakes his head and pulls off his sunglasses, squinting away from the harsh sunlight. “The thing about Jang Won is that you shouldn’t indirectly find ways to get on her good side... you gotta do it in her face. That’s how she plays her games. Straightforward. Ruthless.”

“So like... borderline crazy and a control freak too, right?”

Juyeon snickers, pulling off his shirt to reveal the diving suit he’s got underneath. “Pretty sure if your dad came back from the dead and took over your life’s work, you would too.”

Sunwoo smirks, stripping the pieces of clothes off himself too. “Defending the missus already, I see.”

Rolling his eyes and pulling on an oxygen tank with a mask, Juyeon then glares at the younger. “Well, if she’s offering me all the cents I can count, I might as well work it to my best effort, right?”

He cocks a smug brow, giving his goggles one last adjustment before heading to the edge of the yacht. The hues of blue calm his nerves, already able to see the world of life beneath the surface. It has always been his paradise, and always will be.

“Today, we celebrate the love between two of The Board’s most powerful figures: Lee Juyeon, the next director of Apple-Korea, and The Board’s very own Hera’s Princess, Kim Jang Won. Just a last month, the return of Kim Jo-Pil shocked the country...”

Jang Won dips her finger into the glass of lemon-infused water, contorting the image of the television beyond the table and the space of the room. Still in her pajamas, she cannot find the motivation and strength to leave her bed. She can already hear the crowd bustling downstairs, getting ready for her hair, makeup, fittings--

Knock knock

“Oh, Mr Ro,” She covers her eyes, tired. The door clicks open and she groans to herself, refusing to open her eyes. “Please just kill me. I hate it. I hate all of this. Why did he have to climb out of his own grave?”

“I don’t know. His body was swapped, wasn’t it?”

The voice jolts Jang Won out of her laziness, and she sits up like she had been summoned from the dead too.

“When did you get here?”

Juyeon smiles, somewhat genuine, and leans against the door frame. He was already in a simple button up shirt, meant to be hidden under a gorgeous, white and silver blazer. His hair’s still wet though, his fringe covering his eyebrows and some portion of his eyes.

Jang Won can’t help but soften at the sight of him half a foot into his room - if only Lee Juyeon knew how much her friends back in high school swooned over him.

“Also, I don’t think killing you would be a great idea. Wouldn’t want to see you climb out of your own grave too. Family traits seem to run in the blood of the Kims.”

Jang Won rolls her eyes and crawls her way out of the bed that’s too big for her, feet finding her fluffy, cotton slippers by the bed and shuffling about the bedroom with her hair in a mess.

“Not very good at answering questions, are you?” She sniffles, not bothering to close the bathroom door behind her as she ties her hair gracefully, pulling a hair towel over her head to keep her fringe out of her face. She hears the door click, and Juyeon appears behind her in the reflection of the mirror.

The scent of mint from the toothpaste wafts through her nose.

“Well,” He shrugs and leans against the doorframe again, brushing his fringe out of his eyes. “I answered yours.”

Jang Won chokes on the toothpaste foam, gripping the edges of the sink as she retches into the marble. “Your butler... Mr Ro, called me over. Offered to cover my fitting and everything for today. He said it’s on the house, or rather, yours, I suppose.”

Jang Won finishes up on her brushing, spitting out the leftover foam. “Still didn’t answer my question, y’know.”

Juyeon removes himself off the doorframe, watching her struggle by throwing her hair behind her shoulder. Some locks keep sliding back down around her neck, and her hands are already lathering some facial wash. She tuts in frustration, unable to get her hair out of the way.

Then Juyeon gently gathers her hair behind her neck, his warm fingers barely brushing against her skin. “Morning. Just about two hours ago,” He waits for Jang Won to squint at him, before she provides enough trust to shut her eyes and rub the lotion into her cheeks.

“Mr Ro wanted to come wake you up, but something seemed to crop up with the tea and cake catering, so.”

“What? What’s wrong with the tea and cake catering? I paid good money for that bullshit,” She looks up from the sink, face smeared in some greenish-blue cream.

He grins, chuckling under his breath as she glares at him in the mirror. “Paying good money for ‘bullshit’, huh? How much did the ‘bullshit’ cost then?”

“Well,” She hesitates and frowns, creating lines in the lotion on her face. “Enough to piss me off if they don’t give me what I want.”

Leaning towards the sink, she runs her hands under the water and washes the lotion off her face.

“What company is the catering from? Need my help?”

She scoffs, waving his hand off her hair, grabbing a cotton towel and pressing it to her face. “To what? What are you gonna do? ‘Hey there, I’m the next director of Apple-Korea and I’d like my tarts and cupcakes this afternoon’.”

He leans his rear into the edge of the platform where the sink was built into, back facing the mirror while she carefully hangs the towel over the metal bar mounted into the beige marble wall. “What else would you want me to say, since that’s just exactly what I want?”

“I’on’t know, buy the company or something.”

He raises both brows in extreme shock, his lips pouting in disbelief that he should’ve been prepared for anyway. “What a solution.”

“Got a better idea?” She rolls her eyes, pulling a robe into the shower cubicle. “Also, are you going to stand there and watch me strip?”

Juyeon’s eyes flit off her instantly, hands pushing himself off the edge of the sink. “Could’ve just asked me to leave instead of being so crude.”

“Well now, I didn’t ask you to leave, I asked--”

“I know- I know what you asked-” Juyeon grimaces, blowing some air into the pockets between his teeth and lips. He sucks in a deep breath and exhales loudly through an ‘o’, giving Jang Won some kind of sadistic pleasure. “Do you ever get tired of that? Messing with people?”

Jang Won’s brown orbs rise to the ceiling, actually giving thought to the question. Her lower lip juts out as she shrugs. “Well... yeah. Yeah,” She finally nods. “But hey! I have different degrees of messing-with-people. There’s the I-kinda-wanna-mess-with-you-by-making-you-awkward kind and there’s the I-might-wanna-rebury-my-dad kind-”

“Alright, you have a nice bath.”

Snorting, Juyeon waves her nonsense off and walks out the bathroom, sliding the door shut.

#juyeon #lee juyeon #juyeon fanfic #the boyz juyeon #juyeon scenario #the boyz #the boyz scenario #TBZ #tbz juyeon #tbz fanfic #love me a little less

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