#I sat down to finally watch after rolling my eyes at the rave and BOOM!

[junosmindpalace]

never would’ve expected that out of all the media out there PRIDE AND PREJUDICE (2005) would grab me by the throat and start violently choking me out 

[kitkatd7]

Little Green Dress

Summary: Loki sees you wearing his signature color at one of Tony's parties.

I'm gonna be honest the original point of this story was for the main focus to be on the dress and turn to smut but my mind went a different direction so I'm sorry!

Loki x Reader

Warnings: None? Idk maybe a curse word or 2

Word Count: 2,419

Masterlist

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

Walking through the mall with Natasha and Wanda, you scan the store windows for the perfect dress. You had been searching for hours but hadn’t found the perfect one for Tony’s party.

The girls already had theirs, Wanda’s was a gorgeous strapless floor-length gown in navy blue.

And Nat’s a black, high-low hem style dress, and an open back beside the two flimsy straps that cross.

But you hadn’t found what you were looking for yet. You knew exactly what you wanted, but it seemed no one had it.

Walking a few paces behind your best friends, you stop momentarily to examine a champagne dress with sequins parading down the skirt, turning away from it and seeing Wanda waving frantically at you from a few shops down. Walking over to where she is standing, you ask, “Okay Wan, what’s so importa-” cutting off as you gasp in surprise.

This, this was the dress. It was absolutely perfect. The three of you rushed into the store, looking around for an employee or manager. Locating the manager, you asked her if you could try on the dress, to which she kindly obliged as you were “Those famous Avengers” in her words. After acquiring the dress, you bustle towards the dressing rooms with your friends close behind.

Walking out of the stall you stop and pose with one hand on your hip in front of the girls, giving it an experimental twirl while looking in the mirror.

“So, whatcha think?” you ask, looking down at the beautiful dark green dress that swirled around your ankles. to say it was breath-taking would be an understatement. It had a slit that came halfway up your thigh and an intricate gold pattern around the waist, an open back and a low neckline.

“I think, someone wants to impress a certain tall, dark and brooding Asgardian prince.” Nat states matter-of-factly while smirking at you.

“Wha-what?” you splutter while blushing, “That's preposterous! i just like the color is all...”

“Oh, so is that why we spent the last 5 hours looking for a dress that specifically HAD to be dark green with gold?” Wanda questioned you, a similar smirk on her face and her eyes glittering with amusement. “I suppose it's just a coincidence that those happen to be Loki’s signature color, hmm?” she continues teasing you while you blush an even darker shade of red.

“Okay so fine! I wanted to impress him just a little, what’s wrong with that?” you tell them, exasperated. “Oh, nothing’s wrong with that Sugar, we just want you to be honest with yourself.” Nat jumps in again, still playing the know-it-all role. “Well can we go now? I’m hungry.” you plead, throwing a pout in their direction while walking towards the dressing room to change again.

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

Sitting on the countertop of your bathroom vanity, you try to stay still as Natasha applies your glittering gold eyeshadow and black eyeliner effortlessly. She always did your eye makeup as you were terrible at doing it yourself. But in return you did her hair, that was your forte. “So, what do you want me to do with your hair tonight?” you question while hoping down from your perch.

“Surprise me.” She turns to sit with her back to you as Wanda walks in; dress on, makeup done... and hair in a frenzy. “Y/N! You have to fix this!” She screeches, gesturing towards her head while her hair flew every which way.

“Okay, okay! I can fix it, just calm down.” you tell her, trying to keep her from panicking. “I can’t calm down! This is a disaster! Vision is waiting for me downstairs and he said he has a surprise and I was supposed to be down there 10 minutes ago, and I'm late and can't fix this!” she continues, looking almost in tears at her dilemma. “Wanda Django Maximoff! Sit down and calm down before I have to pin you to the floor with my bare hands!” you half-shout at her. She stills and then sits next to Nat, calming down slightly at the use of her full name and threat, even though you both know you would never really do that to her.

“Now let me fix it.” you say, moving to stand behind her. taking out several types of brushes you tame her wild strands, then quickly add several braids before looping them into a delicate bun at the base of her head. “Okay now shoo! You don’t want to be later than necessary.” you say, laughing and ushering her towards the door. “Thank you, Babe! I’ll see you later!” she yells over her shoulder while practically running down the hallway.

Chuckling to yourself, you walk back into the bathroom and do Natasha’s hair, adding several roses throughout the thick braid that cascaded down the side of her head.

Swiftly pulling your own hair back out of your face, you twist it this way and that until it’s all in a perfect little bunch at the base of your skull, pulling out a few strands here and there to frame your face and giving it an effortless look. All while chatting away with your best friend about anything and everything.

Finally putting on your dress, you pick up your phone to find a new message.

Wan: Where are you? Someone is waiting for you

Rolling your eyes, you type out a response.

You: Be there in a minute, just adding some finishing touches.

Walking back into the bathroom, you stand next to Nat as she finishes her makeup. You start applying another layer of light pink lipstick when your phone buzzes.

Wan: You better hurry, this is the 9th time he has checked his watch in the last 3 minutes.

Opting to not answer, you shove your phone into the hidden pocket of your dress before heading downstairs with Nat.

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

Checking his watch again, Loki lets out an exasperated breath. Women. Why must they always take so long to get ready?

Glancing towards the door for the umpteenth time in the past hour, he sees Natasha walk in, but no sign of Y/N.

You stop and take a moment to admire him before approaching. Wearing a jet-black suit and gold watch (which he seemed to be constantly checking) he looked gorgeous. His hair slicked back neatly, accenting his sharp cheekbones and jawline.

Checking his watch once more, he’s startled when he hears a familiar voice.

“Were you looking for someone?” you ask with a dazzling smile.

Letting his gaze rake down and then up your being, he lets out a breath he didn’t realize he had been holding. “You look- wow.” was all he could manage.

“That bad huh?” you joke, letting out a gentle laugh.

“No, i mean...you look absolutely radiant.” he assures you, offering a slow smile while his gaze trails slowly across you once more. As if realizing the impropriety, he quickly averts his eyes. Clearing his throat, he briskly walks away in a flurry, muttering something about getting you both drinks.

Turning around, you notice Wanda who had been watching the whole exchange and was now smiling at you with a knowing look. Giving her a playful eye roll, you turn back to see Loki approaching, champagne flutes in hand and a smile gracing his features. His eyes sparkling in such a way that they matched the bubbling drinks he was holding.

“Here’s your drink.” he says, your fingertips brushing his as you except the fizzing liquid.

“Thank you.”

“You look positively lovely tonight, Lady Y/N!” Thor boomed as he came up and wrapped you in a bear hug, practically suffocating you in the process. “Thank you, Thor! Just um, maybe not so tight?” you laugh, returning the hug and looking helplessly over his shoulder at Loki who’s regarding his brother with quiet indifference.

Next came Sam, “Don’t you look dashing!” he exclaims, giving you a quick peck on the cheek and wrapping an arm around your waist.

“Thank you! all three of you look charming as well!” you compliment. They did look stunning, but Loki more so.

How dare he? How dare he touch her like that? So casually, with his arm encircling her waist. All Loki wanted to do at that moment was rip the insufferable man’s hands off of his girl... His girl. Were you his? He didn’t know, but he desperately wanted you to be. With these thoughts on replay on his mind, he stalked away, disappearing into the throng of people, leaving you confused and slightly hurt.

Wanda had watched Loki march away from you, his shoulders squared and jaw set, eyes glittering with rage.

Following him to the bar, she sat beside him on a barstool as he orders scotch on the rocks. Great, now he was drinking.

“You need to tell her how you feel, I see the way you look at her.” she states.

“Hmph, and why should I do that? so I can be rejected and humiliated?” he growls into his glass. “You know I can see her emotions and thoughts, right?” she says, causing his eyes to jump from the glass to hers, looking somewhere between hope and fear.

“Well how does she feel about me then?” he demands angrily, tracing the rim of his glass with his fingertip.

“Why don’t you ask her yourself?” she snaps, “You’ve wasted the past 6 months burying your feelings for her, when you could have just told her how you felt, but no. Mr. above all mortals, you brushed her off whenever she attempted to be friendly or flirt and involve you in group activities!” Wanda raved, fed up with the cold shoulder routine he had been using for the past half year. “how dare you-” Loki began, looking slightly furious and baffled at her outbreak.

“No! I am not done speaking! Now shut up and listen, she commanded before continuing. “you kept her at arm's length. And do you have any idea how long we searched for that damn dress? 5 hours. 5 grueling hours, searching every store in the city. She wanted to impress you, and then you stalk off over nothing! For your information, you have no reason to be jealous of Sam,the have been best friends since she moved to the tower. She even set him up with her friend for goodness sake! And he has been dating Sharon ever since. Now man- or god up, or whatever it is and fix the fact that you just walked out on her.” she finished, ordered a drink and walked away, leaving Loki at the bar conflicted with his choice he had to make.

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

Shortly Sam disappeared to get a drink of his own, while Thor continued to entertain you with stories of his and Loki's childhood. As Thor continues, he receives a glare from Loki who had just reappeared at your side as Thor launched into the story.

“And there was the time when we created Get Help!” Thor tells you, laughing at the memory. Still glaring, Loki asks, “Brother, don’t you have somewhere else to act stupid?”

Pausing in his story, Thor gives his brother a thoughtful look, as if seriously considering the question before answering, “not at the moment, no.”

As if she knew what you needed, Wanda came over and dragged Thor away under the pretense of buying him a drink, even though drinks were free. But Thor didn’t need to know that.

Glancing over, you see Loki staring across the dance floor, but his gaze is unfocused, distracted. Reaching out you rest your hand on Loki's forearm to get his attention. His eyes jump back to you, mumbling an apology he drops his gaze, suddenly finding his shoes very interesting.

“Are you going to ask me to dance or what?” you ask, somewhere between a huff of annoyance and a laugh, causing his gaze to snap back to you, and giving you a mute nod. Grasping his hand, you pull him towards the dance floor, drawing him closer so that your arms loop around his neck as his hands settle on your waist.

You dance together like that for a few moments, no words between you, just dancing and enjoying the company. Looking up into his blue eyes, you finally ask the question that’s been pressing you. “why did you get so jealous of Sammy?”

Huffing as if the question is beneath him, he looks away slightly, not answering your question. When you continue to stare, he finally gives in. “I wasn’t jealous.” He scoffs lightly as if to prove his point, even though he was blatantly lying.

“Loki…please don’t lie to me, I hate being lied to.” at this he stiffens slightly against you.

“I just-” he sighs, stopping short to collect his thoughts. Running your fingers through the curls at the base of his neck, you wait for him to continue. He shivers at the movements of your hands, closing his eyes and soaking in the feeling. What he would give to have you do that under different circumstances.

“Here, let me show something.” he breathes out, grabbing your hand and pulling you onto an outdoor balcony, turning so he’s facing you.

“Loki-” you begin before he grabs your hips and pulls you towards him, pressing his lips to yours in a gentle but searing kiss. You burry your hands into his hair, pulling him closer to you and pressing your lips more firmly against his. Pulling back, he rests his forehead against yours, staring into your eyes. “I’ve wanted to do that all night.” he breathes into the space between you, cheeks slightly flushed.

“I’ve wanted to do that since I met you.” you whisper back. You stay there a few moments, your hands still tangled in the raven curls. “We should go back to the party soon,” you say reluctantly.

“In a moment, darling. For now, I just want to enjoy this moment,” he tells you seriously.

“And what moment is that, Loki?”

Taking a deep breath, he murmurs, “the moment I realized I was in love.” looking into his eyes, you realize he’s serious. Crashing your lips against his again you kiss him fervently as his hand comes up to cup your jaw. Pulling back, you slide your thumb along his lower lip, murmuring, “I love you too.”

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

Authors Note: I'm sorry I don't know what I was thinking with this story! Thank you for reading!

Permanent Tag List: @lovesmesomehiddles @saiyanprincessswanie

[weaver-of-legends]

Loki’s boot-steps rang softly on the smooth, shining red-yellow marble tiles as he and his guards passed into the dimly lit, cool hall before the council chamber, leaving the humid warmth and coming rain behind. It smarted, walking down these halls as a prisoner with no say in if he wanted to turn to the right or verge to the left—it stung, his absolute inability to decide how fast or slow he wished to proceed.

It happened all at once, too quickly, too soon—he had been deep in his thoughts and then suddenly they were upon the doors before the Council Room. He felt fidgety, a war horse sensing the coming battle but unable to flee without knowing if turning away would be safer than risking what lay ahead. He wanted to turn and run, to beg for more time, but there was no more time, there could be no more delay. Ragnarök would come, and they must have him dealt with beforehand. He knew it like he knew each breath he took.

The large, brass-colored double doors boomed as they opened inward to admit him. The torchlight and sunlight bounced off of the engravings inlaid into the metal—one of Bor’s great battles with the monsters of Niffelheim.

Loki swallowed, his mouth felt dry.

“Proceed,” the Einherjar holding his chains prompted in a low voice.

Loki’s eyes widened, the unshed tears burning at the edges of his eyes again. His lips parted, letting out a whisper of a breath. He tilted his head forward, chin down, eyes straight ahead, and strode into the room as grandly as any parade horse, sending the chains swaying and slapping dully against the leather panels on his war jacket once again.

He came up in front of the dais where Odin sat in all his glory, one hand closed lightly around Gungnir and the other lying in his lap, the useless arm hidden neatly in his crimson mantle, his gnarled, broken hand concealed in a doeskin glove.

Ægir and Tyr flowed from behind him silently, only their steps sounding and their mantles rustling gently, to take their seats on the Council. Eight lords and one king—the Council of Nine.

The Einherjar holding his chains jerked him to a halt just before he came to a full stop, making him stumble back, and Loki grit his teeth, seething at the disrespect. He looked up at Odin, searching for some sign in the old god’s face as to what his punishment might be—for some sign that Odin would hear him, and listen, and believe him; and not deny his words as the desperate ravings of a murderous liar. But Odin’s scarred and weathered face revealed nothing, and his single good eye held only the cunning wisdom of an ancient monarch long-seated and much-revered.

Despite it, Loki hoped vainly that he would be allowed to say his piece. Hiding his mounting terror, he smiled, friendly and nonchalant—as if he had been brought in for committing a trick on a servant and not guided in with chains strung off of him like so many May-day streamers.

“You decide to see me at last—” he spread his hands as if encompassing the whole room, still smiling, “I was beginning to suppose you would leave me in the dungeons and forget me.” Loki canted his head to the left. “But here, thank the Norns, I am.” He dropped his hands back at his side.

Odin shifted his hand on Gungnir as he rose slow from his seat, moving the spear so its end struck the floor. It rang—ominous, and quietly into every corner of the large chamber.

Loki watched him steadily. He ignored the shifting of the lords; Ægir's bad habit of fiddling with the rings on his right hand when he felt ashamed.

“Do you feel so little for the anguish you have caused?” Odin’s voice moved through the air softly, yet it could be heard as clear as a pan-pipe’s high call. The gravity of it made Loki stiffen, and his heart began to beat erratically in his chest.

Loki feigned curious ignorance, peering exaggeratedly about the room. He lifted his hands again. “I see no pain inflicted by my hands—but then, I have been gone for a very long time, so perhaps I have forgotten of some old trick or spell I set in place; I will right it, if I can, only tell me so I might mend the damage.”

“You cannot redeem what the dead have taken, Loki! Or do you truly feel so little for the death of Baldr? Is your heart that cold toward the pain of your people, the tears of your mother, the grief of your siblings, that you dare make such a show of ignorance? After you fled from Asgard the night the despicable deed was done, and hid from all responsibility!” Odin’s voice rose in sharp command, in cutting judgment. Loki’s breath shortened, he heard a far-off ringing in his ears.

“I never would have, I only mean to say that I—”

“I wanted to hear of you, to listen to your words, and yet your absence reveals your character! You laugh and delight in suffering, you sit eagerly and watch wrongdoing commence—” Odin’s voice strained as he nearly shouted, sounding weary despite his outrage. “—and what is more egregious to my sight is that you revel in the unfortunate circumstance of others; would willingly cause them discomfort for your own pleasure!”

“No, that is not what I have done! I would tell you if you would only hear me, Father—” Loki leaned toward him, curbing his anger and looking at Odin imploringly.  

“Too often have I heard you, too often have I let you speak lies into my face; let you pacify me with shallow promises and gilded words concealing poisonous barbs beneath, thinking you mended of your ways. No more shall I allow this deceit in my presence, I cannot be wounded again with the blinded faith of a hopeful father, only to be laid low with your tricks!” Odin pressed Gungnir against the smooth stone again, and it rang like a peal of thunder.

Loki stepped back, eyes bright and watering. Odin set Gungnir into his damaged hand and then descended the steps from the dais, approaching Loki, deep red mantle swaying in his wake.

“It has been considered and thought out among the council, and it has been decided—I, Odin, king of this realm and protector of the Nine, now take from you your titles!” Odin reached out with his hand and caught Loki’s hand in his, wrenching the rings from his fingers to fling them to the ground; distantly they bounced and rolled across the marble. “I strip you of your place among my ancestors, and among my sons,” Odin took hold of the braid nearest Loki’s ear and pulled the golden clasp from it, and then from the next braid, and the next. Finally he combed the braids out with a rough downward motion of his fingers. Loki jerked his head. “For the crime of killing another Æsir who was your friend and companion, who trusted you—the son of your mother’s sister—I proclaim that you are no longer welcome within the gates of Asgard, and shall evermore be spurned by her citizens.”

Loki parted his lips, but no words came. He stared at Odin in soundless horror, waiting for the final blow sure to fall.

Odin had turned from him and taken two of the ascending steps to his throne, his shoulders hunched, and his stance tired, leaning heavily on Gungnir. But now he paused, looking back, forcing Loki to look up. “A life must be paid for the theft of a life. Loki Liesmith, for the crime you have committed—the cruel act of murdering Baldr in cold blood—you are sentenced to death. You will be taken hence to the Falls of Brunnr and deep into the caverns beside them, and there you shall be bound to the stone beneath the head of Franang. To suffer the poisonous venom that drips steadily from his fangs, until you are dead; however long the Fates decree that end shall take.”

Loki panted as the verdict reached its end and Gungnir rang out—loud and final through the chamber, symbolizing that the sentence should stand for all time. He yearned to breathe but felt as if someone had checked his flow of air. Staggering backward, he went easily into the hold of the Einherjar. His wild eyes found Ægir, looking ill and pale and pained. He had known this, and he hadn’t told him. He had known Odin would not hear him.

Franang.

Darkness.

Suffering.

Death.

Loki’s heartbeat pounded, he felt faint. The Einherjar dragged him toward the doors, away from the Council. Suddenly he rallied, fought against their relentless pulling, strove against the chains.

“No, no, you must hear me!” He twisted in the Einherjar’s grasp, broke loose, scrabbled across the marble as the guards raced after him. One stepped on the hem of his cape, and he fell headlong at the foot of the dais stairs. Loki reached out, fingers catching the edge of Odin’s red mantle. He stared up in mad desperation, feeling every single boyhood anxiety brought to bear. He pulled hard on the fabric like an adamant child, even as the Einherjar grabbed him and heaved him backward, tearing his hands out of Odin’s cape.

Loki twisted and arched his back, writhing fiercely. His tears fell hot and fast down his face. “You must, I beg you, hear me! All-father—my father, Father, do not let them do this to me—Do not let them put me in the dark, alone, to die! Hear me, hear my words! I am innocent of the crime you accuse me; I have done nothing wrong! Father!”

His voice resounded as the Einherjar took him from the council chamber.

But Loki only stared at Odin as the king stood there on the steps; silent, unmoved. Unfeeling. He felt his soul shatter into nine thousand pieces. Odin would not hear him. Angrboda had spokenthe truth; he had been only a pawn in the chess-match of politics, and he had been found wanting, so he was outcast; eliminated like so much refuse. It stung to understand in full how much a father could abandon a son. For the first time since his childhood, Loki wept bitterly.

[love-and-monsters]

Wyvern Prince 5

Preparing the prince for the announcement of the treaty meant having to rise well before the sun to prepare yourself first. The dress you wore for formal occasions was pretty, and you were at least glad for the occasion to wear it. It was deep red, with a yellow ribbon at your waist, much brighter than the usual black and white of your standard dress. Finally, you cinched your hair back with a gold band. It was especially striking against your black hair. You were happy for the occasion to show it off, at least. It had taken several weeks of saving to afford it.

The prince was dead asleep when you arrived at his room with breakfast. “Sire,” you said, carefully balancing he tray on your shoulder. “Sire?”

He blinked his eyes open. “Ugh.”

You smiled. “Good morning, sire.”

He pushed himself up onto his elbows. “It cannot be morning already,” he complained.

“Did you have a difficult night, sire?” you asked, setting the tray down on the small table. Thankfully the kitchen staff had been amenable to cooking a steak for the prince’s breakfast. It made your mouth water.

“Something along those lines,” he said as he got slowly to his feet. “You look nice.”

You dipped your head in a slight bow. “Thank you, sire. All of us servants will be in our best attire, as is traditional for a state announcement. You will also be expected to dress formally.”

The prince nodded absently, moving to the bookshelf. He flicked through a few of his notes, then sighed. “I don’t suppose there’s any time for last minute changes?”

“To your speech, sire? Not if you would like to be ready on time. Is there something you feel needs to be changed?”

“Not in particular,” the prince said. “I suppose I simply feel that if I stare at it for long enough, it will become perfect.”

“Are you nervous, sire?” you asked. The prince made a noise somewhere between a groan and a growl.

“I am very much hoping not to start a war,” he said.

“It is unlikely you will, sire. Even if you upset the townspeople, the queen is still on your side.”

“My worry is more that the townspeople will do something to upset Tamaka- the local wyvern,” he added in reference to your blank expression. “She will retaliate and I doubt the queen will be able to overlook that.”

“I suppose not,” you agreed. “But even that seems unlikely. All you have to do it read off the announcement. You will be perfectly fine.”

The prince gave a tight-lipped smile. “Thank you.” With a deep breath, he started to eat breakfast.

Despite the mouthwatering smell, the prince seemed unwilling to eat more than a few bites of his steak. Finally, he stood up and wiped his mouth off. “We should prepare,” he said.

You opened his closet and pulled out the set of official royal robes he’d been given. They were green, a bright, verdant shade, though they were ridged with royal red and gold. They were designed to be worn over a pale yellow set of pants and a shirt. “Put these on,” you said, offering him the outfit. “Then we can work on the adornment.”

The prince pulled on the clothes dutifully as you inspected his closet for the belt and choker that marked him as a royal emissary. Then you located the hair ornaments and simple wreath that marked him as a ruler in his own right. Finally, you found the silver jewelry he’d been given. It was as much a gift from the queen as it was a subtle jab. The fact that they were silver and not gold nudged at the fact that he was a less important ruler than her majesty. It was even cleverer because the prince couldn’t refuse the gift or even refuse to wear it, for that would be taken as an insult to the queen’s generosity. It was fortunate that such a subtle gesture had gone right over the prince’s head. You had elected not to inform him of the nuance.

“Sit, sire,” you said, gesturing to a chair. “I need to put your hair up.”

He sat and held perfectly still as you began to work through his hair with a comb. It was fine and soft, but working around the horns was difficult. They hewed close to the skull, just over the hair, so you had to carefully move your comb around them. With some careful and clever motions, you were able to loop the hair around them in a pattern that both disguised and accentuated their shape. After gathering the hair into a ponytail, you clipped it into place with his hair ornaments and placed the silver wreath on top. Once that was complete, you could move on to placing his choker and necklace, then belt and other silver jewels. It took well over two hours to finish preparing him.

“Does that feel all right, sire?” you asked as you finished clipping his belt into place. He shrugged, peering at himself in a full-length mirror.

“My tail,” he said, twisting his head to peer at it. The robes hadn’t been tailored well for his tail, it seemed. He had room for it, but only barely, forcing him to hold it close to his body. “But I suppose there’s nothing that can be done about that?” He looked at you, clearly hoping you would fix it, but not truly expecting you to.

“I’m sorry, sire, but that would require far better tailoring skills than I have. I know how to stich closed holes, but that is about it.” The prince’s mouth set into an unhappy line, but he said nothing more. “We should head to the town center. Can you sit in your robe?”

The line of his mouth became unhappier. “I doubt it.”

“Then you will have to stand. Apologies, sire.”

He waved a hand, causing the band on his wrist to jangle. “I have had worse. You said we should depart? Then let us go.”

You carefully took up his notes before leaving with him. Soldiers were already stationed at the door of the inn and the instant you and the prince stepped outside, they dropped into formation around you. They pressed in close around you, nearly shoving you against the prince. He grabbed your shoulder, carefully steadying you. “Watch it,” he snapped at the guard, who grumbled apologetically.

The reason for the soldiers became obvious rather quickly. Townspeople crowded the streets, straining to catch a glimpse of royalty. The soldiers pressed back against the mass of people, a few of them even brandishing shields at a few of the rowdier ones. The prince twisted his head back and forth, eyes wide.

“What’s the matter with them?” he asked, stooping slightly to whisper in your ear.

“They’re excited to see you, sire. You’re royalty,” you whispered back. The prince looked nonplussed. “Have you never addressed your subjects before?”

“I have- or at least I’ve been there when my parents have. But wyverns don’t do this. They aren’t fanatical about these sorts of things.” The prince frowned at the crowd around him. “This is unsettling.”

“Royalty is important, sire. You are royalty, so you are important.” You didn’t dare let any irritation enter your tone, not while the prince already seemed upset, but you were annoyed. People wanted to see him, to get a glimpse of divine royalty, and he behaved as though they were a raving mob.

Perhaps the prince sensed your irritation, or perhaps he was simply too unsettled, because he fell silent and did not speak again as you made your way to the town center. In the center of the dirt road was a small dais, made of stone. It had been decorated with hastily dyed cloth, in traditional royal red, though patches of it were uneven and pinkish. The soldiers remained around us until you reached the platform, when they parted to let the prince and you stand upon it. You offered the prince his notes.

“You’ll be wonderful, sire,” you said. “Just give the speech.”

He nodded, shuffled through his notes, and took a deep breath. You gave him a reassuring smile and took the center of the dais. “Attention!” you called in the loudest vice you could manage. A rolling hush spread over the crowd. "His royal highness, prince of the wyverns, shall address you regarding the royal treaty forged between the wyverns and the land of Valess.” You turned and swept into a low bow, gesturing for the prince to step forward.

The prince approached the front of the stage as you straightened up. His fire-bright eyes swept over the assembled crowd. In a moment, it seemed all of his previous nervousness had fallen away. His shoulders straightened, his chin lifted, and his expression grew settled and stern. The sun gleamed across the ornaments in his hair and the silver around his neck. It seemed to illuminate his finer features with an almost unearthly glow. An indefinable emotion swelled within your chest and stomach. He looked royal, perfect, almost unearthly. He looked very far above you.

“I have traveled here from the land of the wyvern in order to forge a treaty with your people regarding the settlement of this land,” the prince began. His voice boomed out over the crowd, full of regal purpose. “Years ago, it was agreed between the humans and the wyvern that this land would remain part of the wyvern territories. No humans were to settle here.” He paused and an unsettled murmur swept through the crowd. “But,” the prince continued, “things have changed. The land originally promised to humans cannot fit all of you and still support your farms. So we have decided to modify the treaty in order to fix this issue. From now on, as long as the town remains here, you will pay a tribute to the wyvern occupying this territory as a replacement for her lost hunting territory. Every two weeks, you will offer her a prey animal and she will allow you to live and grow food here. You will not encroach further into her territory. Failure to comply with this new treaty will result in retaliation by your crown and by my people.”

The prince stepped back and lowered his head. Murmurs rolled through the crowd. You could see a shift of uncertainty, but no cries or revolts. You released a breath. At the very least, the people seemed amenable. The prince glanced at you. You smiled back.

It took only a few seconds for the guards to close in again and usher you off the platform. The prince fell in beside you. “That went well, I think,” he said.

“I believe so, sire,” you said. “We’ll have to make sure they listen, but as long as they do, this problem should be solved.” You glanced at him. His expression was stoic and unreadable. “Are you going to return to your home now, sire?”

“No. I am to have a residence here for at least a year, just to ensure our nations can continue to negotiate. Likely I will be an ambassador for the wyverns for years to come.”

His expression and voice were solemn, but you couldn’t tell if it was due to tiredness or unhappiness. Whichever it was, you decided it didn’t matter. You just helped him back to his room and started to undress him.

He allowed you to take down his hair and remove his ornamentation, but when you started to help with his robes, he waved you off. “I told you to take the day off after you helped with the speech,” he said. “You can go now. I’ll be fine.”

“Are you certain, sire?” you asked.

“Positive. I’ve barely seen you do anything except work since I met you. Go on.” He waved a hand toward the door. “Do as you will.”

You bowed. “If you wish it, sire.” When he nodded again, you left the room.

After changing into the only set of casual clothes you owned, you headed into the market. Your coin purse pressed against your hip through your skirt and, dressed plainly, you were free to peruse the market at your leisure. That was one of the good things about being a servant. Even an important servant’s face wasn’t remembered next to royalty. Out of your clothes that marked you as a servant, you could have been a simple traveler.

The market wasn’t as interesting as you had thought it would be. You’d saved a tidy sum from your time as a servant; you didn’t really have much to spend it on, after all. And this wasn’t a city, where you might have been able to purchase an interesting trinket or two. The market was mostly focused on materials needed for survival or work, materials you had no use for. After hours of examining the wares and speaking to the townspeople, you finally purchased a few biscuits and started to wander back through the town in the direction of the inn.

A dog barked and snarled ahead of you and a cloaked figure scrambled out of the way. The cloak was strange. It was made of a green material that seemed somewhere between leather and cloth and shimmered slightly in the late-afternoon light.

Your eyes narrowed. You knew that cloak. “Sire?”

The cloaked figure turned toward you and you caught a glimpse of cornsilk blond hair and bright fiery eyes. “What are you doing without the guards?” you asked, hurrying toward him.

“Shh.” He brought a finger to his lips and hauled you into a shady point between two shops. “I left without them. I don’t need guards. I’m a wyvern.”

“You’re still not supposed to go out with the guards. You saw what these people were like before with you. The guards keep them from swarming you.”

The prince frowned. “That is true. But as long as I stay in the cloak, they don’t seem to notice.”

“No one would expect royalty to walk around on their own,” you said. “No one is looking very closely at you.”

“Then I am fine,” he said. “I only wanted to look around.” With that, he walked out of the alleyway and headed through the town. Uncertain what else to do, you took off after him.

The prince seemed content to merely wander around town and look at people from a distance, though you suspected that was born at least partially of necessity. If he spoke or looked people in the face, he was all too recognizable as a prince. Still, you found yourself constantly on edge, waiting for the crowd to suddenly realize who was there and turn. It was a relief when you found yourself on the edge of the town, where the crowd thinned.

“Sire,” you said in your most respectful tone, “you have to be aware of your status. You’re fortunate no one saw you, but if they had, I would not have been able to do much for you.”

“Why?” The prince was staring off into the woods, expression stony. “What reason could they have to treat me like that?”

“You are royalty, sire. Important. Divine, some would say. They want to see you because you are the most important person they likely will ever see.”

“Do you think I’m divine?” The prince turned to look at you and, as bright as his eyes were, there was something distant and cool in them. “That I’m that important?”

You couldn’t meet his gaze. You looked at the ground. “Of course, sire. You’re royal.”

The prince let out a disappointed huff. “Humans. I will never understand the lot of you.” He slumped against a tree.

You glanced up at him. He was no longer looking at you, just staring into the woods. “Sire?” you prompted.

“I did read about it, you know. The idea that royals are rulers because they are better at it than common folk, that they are indisputably different and better than those they rule over. But I didn’t truly think anyone would believe such a thing. Not something that was so clearly false.” He gave a hollow laugh. “But they do. And you! I didn’t think you would believe it.”

“Sire?” There was something strange, almost strangled, in his voice. It was unnerving.

“Wyverns don’t rule like this,” he continued. “Ask any wyvern what they think of my family and none of them would tell you that we are divine or that we have any right to rule. We earned our position through a display of our abilities. Should we fail, we will be thrown from our position and another will take our place. Nothing more, nothing less. Our rule is not ordained. It is exchangeable.” He looked back at you. “I have always known that I am the same as any of my subjects, in all the ways that matter. Do you understand?”

You stared at him. His eyes were intent. “I… don’t know, sire. I’m sorry.”

He looked at you for a moment longer, then sighed. “You don’t. That’s all right. I suppose I understand why.” He took you gently by your shoulders, looking down at you with eyes as bright and warm as candle flames. “Just know that you are just as important as I am.”

His hands slipped from your shoulders and he walked past you, back into town. You stared after him for a few seconds. You weren’t quite sure you caught his meaning, but the words felt important. Warmth swelled in your chest as you traced the words with your lips. You are just as important as I am.

The prince was nearly within the town at that point. You picked up your skirts and ran after him.

[burgers-and-french-fries]

Nova & Ellie: The Finale!

Note: This is the last part in the series. I hope that you like this and I hope that it makes sense. I know that this is really out there but nevertheless, here is what you wanted.

This series originally stared as an imagine that I wrote for someone very near to my heart. @sarahegerton96

Enjoy!

===

It had been more than a few years since Gary was born. Life for the Egertons had been busy. Taron had managed to pick up a lot more work but that meant that he was gone all the time.

The kids had all grown into very intelligent people and Sarah couldn’t have been prouder. Even though she was proud of how far they’d come, the kids had their moments. Gary’s favorite thing to do was to shoot his Nerf bullets at random objects and it drove Sarah crazy. She always found those things in the most bizarre places. The ceiling for example.

Ellie was Ellie. The girl kept to herself most of the time and threw herself into her school work. The fact that she studied so much did make her parents proud but at times they would have to push her to go and some time with her friends.

Nova was another story altogether. She was a good kid but she most certainly had a stubborn and secretive streak. She was the one that dabbled in things that she really shouldn’t have. For example, sneaking her ‘friend’ Taylor into her room after her mother had told her not to.

So with that being said, you could imagine how the current situation was going to unfold.

Taron had come home early one evening from a business trip and when he walked into the house, he saw his wife in the kitchen making dinner, Gary was once again shooting at everything and Ellie was sitting at the breakfast bar reading her latest book, ‘To kill a mockingbird.’

“I’m home.” Taron announced as he walked further into the house.

“Hi dad.” Gary cheered as he ran up to his father.

He threw his arms around Taron’s middle and hugged him tightly.

“Hi bud.” Taron greeted as he pat his son’s back.  

“I missed you.” Gary admitted when he pulled away from the embrace.

“I missed you too. Why don’t you go wash up for dinner. Something tells me that your mother is almost done.” Taron suggested. 

Gary nodded but before he ran off, Taron spotted the bullets sticking to the tv. The father had to really stifle his laughter.

“Before you go, remove the bullets please and pack it in for the night.” He said. Gary groaned but did as he was told.

Taron then walked over to his wife and daughter.

“Good book?” Taron asked as he kissed Ellie’s head.

“Not sure yet but I’ll let you know dad.” Ellie replied, not looking up from her book.

Taron nodded and made his way over to his wife.

“Hello my angel.” Taron said as he wrapped his arms around her waist and kissed her cheek.

“Hi baby. How was everything?” She asked quietly, knowing that Taron didn’t want them to know what he was really doing for work.

“Full on. Where’s Nova?” The father asked in reply.

“She should be in the dining room with Taylor studying.” Sarah answered, turning the stove off.

“I’m going to go and clean up before saying hi to her.” taron said, moving away from Sarah.

“Don’t be too long, dinner is almost ready.” The woman said.

Taron hummed and hurried upstairs.

=

“Are you sure that this is a good idea?” Taylor asked, not wanting to be caught having sex with his girlfriend.

“Of course. Mum thinks we’re downstairs studying. As long as we’re quiet it will be ok.” Nova whispered.

Taylor was about to remove her bra when Taron spotted them from down the hallway.

The father stormed toward his daughter’s room.

“Both of you get out of this room now.” Taron boomed with rage. Both teens shot out of the bed in just their underwear.

“Calm down dad.” Nova chanced.

“Don’t you dare tell me to calm down. Get dressed and get your asses downstairs.” He continued to boom.

Sarah heard the commotion and went upstairs to see what was going on.

“Honey what’s wr-” Sarah started before her eyes landed on her daughter and her boyfriend.

“What the hell is going on here?” Sarah asked with her blood beginning to boil.

“Nothing.” Nova mumbled.

“Both of you get dressed. I want you downstairs.” Sarah instructed.

“But mum.” Nova whined.

Both Taron and Sarah gave their daughter a stern look and she knew to shut up and listen. 

=

“You know better than this. I told you to stay down here and you disobeyed me.” Sarah hollered after Ellie and Gary had gone to bed.

Nova just sat and listened to her parents rant and rave at her.

“You have gone above and beyond young lady and we’re very disappointed in you.” Sarah continued to holler.

“Well, what do you have to say for yourself?” Taron asked, still feeling his blood boiling.

Nova chewed on her lower lip as she tried not to cry with embarrassment. She knew that she was in the wrong and she knew that she had really betrayed her parents trust in her.

“Nova, we’re talking to you.” Taron and Sarah said in unison.

“Look, I know what I did was wrong and that i’ve betrayed your trust. I’m sorry I hurt you.” She said before she got up and rushed upstairs to her room.

“We should honestly just take her door away.” Taron said, getting up from the sofa and walked to the kitchen.

Sarah sighed and followed behind.

“Do you remember when we had to give Nova the talk. How embarrassed she was.” Sarah recalled, letting a chuckle escape her lips.

“Yeah, She caught us after everything.” Taron added.

“It was embarrassing for all of us.” Sarah said, wondering if Nova running off had anything to do with feeling embarrassed and ashamed.

“I know what she did was wrong but do you think we’re being too hard on her?” Sarah questioned.

“Not at all. She knows the rules of this house and she broke them. She’s got to learn that she can’t get away with something like that, especially since you were under the impression that she and Taylor were studying.” Taron said, still quite cross.

“You’re right. I’m overthinking this.” She said, waving her hand around.

=

The next morning, Nove woke up earlier and went downstairs. She hoped to make her parents breakfast as an attempt at an apology but as she got half way down the stairs, she could hear Sarah and Taron talking about her and Taylor.

“You’re going to have to take her door away. I’m not dealing with her attitude in regards to that.” Sarah said before sipping her coffee.

“What other punishment are we giving her?” Taron asked.

Nova sat down and listened to them. She felt immense guilt and she was hoping that her parents would have been more understanding as they were her age once but she was mistaken. Not that she could really blame them.

“What are you doing?” Gary whispered as he sat next to his sister.

“Nothing.Hey, if mum and dad ask where I am, can you tell them that I’ve gone to see uncle Rich?” Nova asked, looking at her brother.

“Why are you going over there now? How do you even know he’ll be up?” Gary questioned in reply.

“I’m not actually going to see him. It’s just a cover. Just do it please.” Nova said.

Gary nodded in agreement and watched as Nova rushed upstairs to put things into a backpack so that in reality, she could hide out in the treehouse for a little bit without her parents asking where she'd gone.

Once she was in the treehouse, she texted Richard to tell him what happened and asked him to cover for her. She really couldn’t face them and she knew that if they saw her, they’d yell at her again. 

=

“Morning.” Gary said as he trudged down the stairs a few minutes later.

“Morning my boy.” Taron said as he cooked the eggs.

“Where’s Nova, usually you two come downstairs together.” Sarah asked.

“She went to uncle Rich’s.” Gary replied as he sat next to his mother at the breakfast bar.

Taron and Sarah shared a look, knowing that unless she snuck out her window, she was still home because she hadn’t used the front door.

“Are you sure she went to Richard’s?” Taron asked, having a feeling that she had gone to see Taylor.

“Yes dad. I’m sure.” Gary replied as convincingly as he could.

“Right. If I call him and ask, what is he going to say?” Taron asked.

Gary looked his father in his eyes.

“He’d say that Nova was with him.” Gary replied, feeling confident that Nova would get their uncle to cover for her.

“I swear, you make a good liar kid.” Taron complimented.

Gary rolled his eyes and began to eat the eggs that were placed in front of him.

“Why don’t you just check the tracker.” Gary said with his mouth full.

“What?” Taron asked with shock.

Gary swallowed his food. 

“I may be little but I’m not stupid dad.” He replied.

“How did you figure it out?” The mother asked.

“Figure what out?” Gary inquired, knowing that his father was about to admit that he was actually a spy and that his acting was just a cover.

“That I’m a spy and not an actor.” Taron replied.

Gary smiled cheekily.

“I didn’t until now. You’re easy to lie to.” Gary said with a chuckle.

“So I just admitted my actual job in the way I didn’t want to.” Taron said, sighing in annoyance.

Sarah burst out laughing. She knew her kids were smart but what Gary had just done was brilliant and she was very proud of him.

“Maybe he’ll join the family business one day.” Sarah said through her laughter.

=

It had been a few hours since Nova had set up camp in the treehouse. She had unpacked everything and was now poking around at the little memories that had been left up there.

“Hey, I thought you were at Richard’s?” Taron said as he entered the treehouse, scaring his daughter.

Nova just shrugged and wrapped her arms around her knees.

“I just wanted to be alone but obviously the little snitch told you where I was.” Nova said, referring to her little brother.

“He didn’t say anything. I came out here and I saw you moving around up here.” Taron admitted.

Nova nodded and hid her face in her knees.

“When did you grow up on me?” He asked, sitting down next to her.

The both of them sat in silence for a little while.

=

A few weeks later, Nova and her parents were on good terms again and the teen was happy for that. 

Taron and Sarah had taken the time to sit both Taylor and Nova down to talk to them about being safe and as much as it pained them, they even said that if they wanted to be up in her room with the door closed, they had to ask first and had to accept whatever answer they got.

The teens agreed and since then, the atmosphere in the house had changed for the better, well that was until today.

Nova had come home early from school as they only had a half day and as she walked into her room, Sarah called.

She had asked her daughter to get something from her closet and throw it in the wash so that she could wear it for the parent teacher meetings she had the next day.

Nova agreed and went to retrieve the outfit after hanging up with her mother.

“Ow fuck.” Nova whined as she tripped over one of her father’s shoes. The girl happened to rest her hand on the wall and in doing so, Taron’s gadgets and whatnot appeared.

Nova gasped at everything. She was freaked out to say the least.

“This has to be a joke.” The girl said to herself. Things like this only happened in movies and they were supposed to be fake. Right?

She was about to leave when her eyes landed on the orange suit Taron had worn for their father daughter date all those years ago.

It was at that point that Nova started putting two and two together. 

=

“Mum, can you pass the peas please?” Ellie asked as the family sat around the dinner table.

Sarah nodded and passed the peas.

“How was school today?” Taron asked Nova. He had already heard about Ellie and Gary’s day.

Nova ignored him. She was pissed off.

“Nova honey, are you ok?” Sarah asked.

Nova dropped her fork and stood up before removing the ring from her finger and throwing it at her father.

“I hate you.” She seethed, hurrying upstairs to her room.

“What’s wrong with her?” Ellie asked.

“A story for another day. Let’s just leave her for now and carry on with dinner.” Taron said.

Later that night, Gary appeared in Nova’s doorway.

“Mum and dad want to talk to you downstairs.” He said.

“Tell them I’m sleeping.” Nova replied.

“I’m not a pigeon. You tell them.” He pouted.

“Fine. Goodnight you little pest. I love you.” Nova said as she walked past him.

“I love you too.” Gary responded, walking to his room.

Nova stormed downstairs and into the living room where her parents were waiting like they always were when they wanted to speak to the kids.

“Whatever it is that you feel like you want to say, I don’t want to hear it.” She shouted.

She went to turn but was stopped when her father spoke.

“Nova, what did I do to make you so mad?” Taron asked, genuinely confused.

Nova looked at him and raised her brow in annoyance.

“That’s for me to know.” She spat, knowing that he’d get the reference.

Taron hung his head and sighed.

“Your brother told you didn’t he?” The father asked.

Nova scoffed and folded her arms.

“You are unbelievable. You are such a hypocrite.” She said, unfolding her arms and placing her hands on her hips.

“Now wait just a minute. He is still your father.” Sarah warned.

“Father or not, all we have been fed from the moment we could talk was that in this family, we do not lie, we do not keep secrets and we are always honest. Those were dad’s words. I’m supposed to just sit by and let this slide. And no, Gary didn’t tell me.” Nova ranted.

“It was both your fault actually. Mum’s for telling me to go into your closet and get her clothes to wash and yours for leaving your damn shoes in the way. I tripped over them and caught my balance by catching the wall but imagine my surprise when I see a whole fucking arsenal of guns and whatnot. You can keep that bloody ring for all I care.” She finished before storming back upstairs and slamming her door shut for effect.

As soon as they knew Nova was upstairs and in her room, Taron burst into tears.

“Come on babe, don’t cry. Nova didn’t mean it, she’s just hurting right now.” Sarah said, just as Taron’s phone buzzed.

He wiped his eyes and picked up the device.

<<Saw me moving around in the treehouse my ass. That fucking thing is a tracker isn’t it!>>

Taron handed the phone to his wife before getting up and going to his office to be alone.

=

EPILOGUE:

It had definitely taken a good chunk of time but eventually Nova came around and even grew to like the idea of her father being a Kingsman spy. Ellie didn’t really seem to care when it came time to tell her. She thought it was cool but it didn’t surprise her. And Gary you may ask? Well he indeed followed in his father’s footsteps and even took his position when Taron stepped up as Arthur.

Needless to say, the Egerton family certain had their fair share of hardships but they also had lots of good times. 

===

Tag List: @softeggsy @fuseburner @jobanan23 @hitmeonmytspot @dogmom2014 @hauntedflamingo @superthiccthighssavelives @aberystwythboy @rocknrollmadden @stronglyobsessed @holdmeclosertinytaron

[nadiawrites14]

the sidekick

word count: 1821

aka me coming up with the worst superhero names. for a reedsy writing contest uwu

“At last,” cried the villain, wiping away the blood that streaked their mouth. “At last, I will control the city. Their greatest protector, finally defeated, by the likes of me!”

Huddled beneath the villain’s feet, crumpled and winded, lay the hero. “You won’t get away with this,” they sputtered, chest heaving as they began to rise to their feet. The villain hastily urged them back down with a swing of their boot, and the hero rolled to the side.

“Give it up already. I won. You lost. How does it feel to finally lose for once in your life?” The villain paced around the hero, looking down with a menacing smile. “Must feel awful. Maybe you can walk a mile in my shoes,” they mused, crouching down to the height of the wounded hero.

“Don’t try to make me pity you,” spat the hero.

“I’m not. I’m just imploring you to think about other people than yourself for one moment.” Reaching into their pocket, the villain pulled out an electrical cord, and began to wrap the hero’s hands as they struggled. “By the way, where’s your sidekick?”

“Excuse me?” The hero demanded, blue eyes wiry and confused. 

“Your sidekick,” the villain repeated. “You know, the little cupcake who’s been with you since day one. I don’t remember her name. Little, dresses in pink. What’s her superpower? I’ve forgotten. But she’s always been on the scene, now, where’s she gone to?” The villain looked around, half-expecting the sidekick to appear just in time to save their defeated partner.

The hero furrowed their brows, confused, before perking up with realization. “Right. Lucy. I wouldn’t call her my sidekick, exactly--”

“You wouldn’t-- she’s like your shadow, are you joking? Really strange that she hasn’t come for you yet,” The villain wiped their forehead and resumed garrotting the hero.

“... About that,” the hero grated their teeth, eyes darting around the dim room. The villain paused, an eyebrow cocked. “I may have left her behind. In one of your weird puzzle rooms.”

Dumbfounded, the villain dropped the electrical cord and stared. “You left your sidekick behind?”

The hero nodded.

“You just… left her?’

“I don’t need another person to defeat a villain. I’m strong enough on my own.”

“Obviously, you do! Look at yourself!” The villain rose to their feet, fuming. “What a despicable man you are! Leaving your goddamn sidekick behind to die? What’s your problem? You’re worse than I am! All I do is screw with the electrical grid and cause county-wide blackouts, I don’t leave sweet little sidekicks to die in an escape room!” boomed the villain, raving as they stomped towards the door. “I’m giving you one second to go and rescue her, and then we can get back to this.”

“Why would I do that? Look, can we just get this over and done with so I can break out of your dumb jail cell and get out of this bloody dumb lair? She’ll be fine on her own,” the hero protested.

The villain scoffed and shook their head, continuing to the door.

“Where are you going?” the hero demanded, rising shakily to their feet.

“I’m going to go rescue Lucy myself, because you’re obviously a useless, self-centered bag of bones.” The villain spun around, and snapped their fingers. A sizzling sound rippled through the room, and the lights flickered on, filling the room with a glow. “Go on. Get out of here.”

The hero looked around, confused. “Where?”

“Out that-- ugh, you idiot!” With another snap of their fingers and another buzzing current of electricity, a balcony door flew open. The lights of the city had been reignited once again, and the hero stared down in surprise.

“I thought you caused a blackout.”

“Just turned the lights back on,” the villain shrugged. “All good now. Go on. Shoo. Get lost, idiot.”

The loose electrical cord slipped from the hero’s wrists as they shrunk out the door, a baffled expression on their face. Climbing onto the balcony, they spread their arms, and disappeared into the night.

Another snap of the fingers, and the door to the villain’s lair flew open. They sighed, wiped the last bit of blood from their face, and began to descend down the long flight of stairs.

***

Shivering, lacerated, and entangled in miles of electrical wire was the sidekick, just barely dangling above the criss-cross of lasers on the floor. Her chest heaved, and she swung helplessly, calling the hero’s name as she moved closer and closer to the stinging heat of the lasers. At last, she heard the footsteps, and smiled. The hero had come for her! She knew that villain was no match for her super duper strong partner. “I knew you could do it! I always knew you c-”

As the door flung open, the hero did not stand there, rather, the villain who Lucy had gone to defeat. Now wearing a pair of thickly rimmed glasses and an oversized zip-up sweatshirt over their spandex uniform, a complicated remote tucked in their hand. “Stay very still.”

Lucy screamed.

The villain watched, deadpan, and nudged their glasses up the bridge of their nose. “I said to stay still,” they repeated. “Not wake up everyone in New Melbourne.”

“What have you done with the hero? Why are you here? Get away from me, you monster?” she cried. 

The villain sunk against the door and fiddled with the remote as Lucy shot out more and more imploring questions, despite the visible exhaustion and pain etched on her face. She swung back and forth with violent intent, attempting to swing a punch or a kick at the villain the closer she swayed. 

Tossing the remote on the floor with a sigh, the villain rubbed their temples and snapped their fingers. The lasers disappeared, and Lucy looked up at the villain, wide-eyed. “What are you going to do with me?”

They strolled to the door and pressed a button on the keypad beside the handle. The ropes uncoiled and Lucy toppled to the carpeted floor. She grabbed her stomach, wheezing, and rolled to the side. Her breaths were shallow and quick as the villain approached, hands behind their back.

“What are you going to do to me?” she forced out, her voice a whisper as she stayed glued to the floor, her eyes afraid and her lips trembling as they took a seat beside her.

“I’m not going to do anything to you,” the villain said, tugging their hoodie around them. “Goodness, spandex makes you so goddamn sweaty. Really need to get a better uniform for the December heat, eh? Alright.” Resigned, the villain sagged and pushed their hair out of their face. “Let me get you fixed up.”

“I want to leave. Where’s Cryotrap? He’ll take me.”

“He left,” the villain said. “He told me you’d be fine on your own.”

Lucy blinked and laughed, eyes full of confusion as she began to study her wounds. “No, he wouldn’t do that. Not to me. What did you do to him?” she demanded, looking back at the villain with burning frustration. 

“I’m telling the truth. Why don’t you hear it for yourself?” The villain rolled up their sleeve, revealing their mechanically-decked armpiece, and pressed one of the many buttons. Muffled voices echoed through the small speaker, and the villain shifted through the recording.

“I don’t need another person to defeat a villain,” the replay muttered. A jumble of words. “She’ll be fine on her own.” 

“I don’t need another person to defeat a villain,” the chalky audio repeated. Lucy shifted uncomfortably, her bottom lip shaking. “She’ll be fine on her own.”

“Let me go home, please,” she asked, leaning against the wall as she rose to her feet. 

The villain shook their head. “Can I fix you up first, please? I don’t want you walking home in such a state. I have everything right here,” they said, digging in their pockets and brandishing a handheld first aid kit. “Ya see? Here. Let me fix you up and you never need to come here again. Alright?”

Lucy rubbed her eyes and took a deep breath. “Alright. Fine.”

The villain held out their hand, and she reluctantly took it. They led her out of the narrow room and carefully up the stairs. Lucy groaned with every step, and when they arrived at the third floor, she immediately collapsed onto the villain’s dirtied green couch. 

With the bandages and ointment in hand, the villain shuffled to her side and began to tend to her wounds, dabbing the alcohol-kissed pad on her bruises and cuts and wrapping her lacerated arms in bandages. “Are you alright?”

Lucy shrugged her arms, a sagging frown on her face and her eyes faraway. “Thank you. I didn’t know villains could be nice.”

“This isn’t being nice, this is human decency,” the villain muttered. “I’m not evil. The most evil thing I do is fight heroes and cause city-wide blackouts. And that’s not too awful or murderous, I don’t think. I’m not bloodthirsty.”

“Sparkplug,” Lucy muttered. “Right?”

“Yup,” they replied, sitting up and leaning against the couch. “I can manipulate electricity, or whatever. I like building stuff sometimes. I just like stealing the city’s energy and Cryotrap hates that stuff. I’m not as bad as Dagger, or Andromeda, but bad enough for people like him to come after me. You know? You could say I’m a passive villain.” Sparkplug shifted and stared at their calloused hands, then back at Lucy. “What’s your power? It’s funny. I have no clue.”

Lucy straightened her back and folded her bandaged hands. “I can heal people. Not myself, as you could guess, but… it comes in handy sometimes. He always says he doesn’t need it, but whenever he gets kicked down it’s always me fixing him up. And I guess I just needed to hear it.” Tears pricked the poor girl’s eyes, and she stared at her feet. “I don’t think he appreciates me at all. No matter how hard I try or how much I train.”

“Healing is powerful in many ways, and it deserves to be appreciated,” Sparkplug commented, shooting an admiring look at Lucy. “You’re strong, and with enough patience and training you could be the next best hero in the city.”

The two sat in silence for a minute, sharing a long look before Lucy got to her feet.

“I should go now. Thank you for helping me.”

Sparkplug rolled onto the couch and nodded, holding their hands behind their head.

Lucy paused as she stood on the threshold, and turned back around. 

“Tell me. How do I become a villain instead?”

The villain thought about it for a moment. Meanwhile, the hero was far gone, the sidekick being the last thing on his mind as he soared above the city. The villain smiled warmly, and extended a hand to the sidekick. “Why don’t you come find out?”

[maximumkillshot]

By The Books Part 1- Meeting the Professors

Warnings: Mentions of actual murders and psychopaths as well as what they did(this includes rape, torture, murder)[It’s brief but I wanna be safe.], The setting is after the show ends (in my head they’re fine... well some of them.], Major character death is described, cursing, Professor! Dean Winchester, Professor! Sam Winchester, Promise that it gets better though! 

Pairing: Professor!Dean x Reader x Professor!Sam (EVENTUALLY)

Characters: Claire, Dean, Sam, Reader, Jack is mentioned, Mary is also mentioned.

A/N: This part is long... I know, but trust me when I say we are setting up a monster fic so please take the time to read all of it.... LOVE Y’ALLL!!! Also.... sorry in advanced... also thank you for brainstorming with me @anathewierdo and @emoryhemsworth

“All I Could Do” Masterlist- CLICK HERE

Overall Masterlist- Click Here

“When You Call” Masterlist- Click Here

“The Situation” Masterlist- Click Here

 “I can’t believe it took me four years to be able to take these classes,” I said to my friend, Claire as we filed into the giant lecture hall. “You’d think that topics as niche as ‘religious deities and ritual practices’ and ‘the psychology of murder and criminology’ would be a bit more available’.

“Well you know, the professors are in demand. They each have been studying their practices for years, just started teaching though,” said Claire, absentmindedly as she claimed the seats in the front row and center of the hall.

“Okay...how do you know all of that?” I asked.

“I grew up with them…. my mom worked with them on some cases… she’s a sheriff. They’re pretty cool people. Came over for dinner a few times… they were present for some… awkward conversations.” Shuddered Claire.

“Do I even wanna know”

“Hell no”

“Fair enough,” I said as a tall man in a suit came in. He had long brown hair and eyes that could stop anyone in their tracks. He was also incredibly tall and had a body chiseled from marble. Immediately he set his suitcase down and started speaking, “Hello class, wow, big crowd. Hi, my name's Samuel Winchester, please for the love of everything call me Professor or Professor Winchester.”

There was immediate buzzing around the room, everything from women humming in approval and men scoffing at the Adonis in front of them.

When he turned around my head snapped to Claire and she smiled at me… that shit eating grin that spilled that she knew he had an effect on me.

“Something wrong, Y/N?” Asked Claire with a toothy grin…

When I went to shush her the professor spoke up, “Claire… do you have something to share?”

“Oh, I have a few things to share” Claire nudged me and my eyes went wide. I’d known Claire since we both enrolled in the same year, both with an odd interest in the supernatural, she became my go-to for everything weird and out of the norm. She always praised me for my prowess in religious studies, I also knew a lot about different abnormal psychology, which is my major. This is also why she didn’t leave me alone until we took these classes together. Finally, with one semester left to go, I was finally able to take the course, purposely leaving some elective credits for this.

“Go for it, since you’re so eager to share that I can’t even get through the ground rules for this class.”

“Well first off, hi, I’m Claire, criminal justice major, just like mom intended but you know this…. I’m excited to see whatcha got Sam… teach me somethin’” she bounced as my face turned white next to her.

“The first lesson for you, Claire…” the professor pointed to himself, “Professor Winchester… not Sam. Okay? That one was free… don’t make me call Jody.”

Claire huffed as she crossed her arms, then I heard his deep voice address me, “You okay there? You look a little pale.”

Why is my mouth not working, his gaze is so intense yet.. gentle? How can a literal giant look so soft and patient…

“Now is the point in the interaction where you talk” chuckled Claire. The rest of the class chuckled as the professor shot a glare towards her.

“She’s just trying to cover the fact that she isn’t getting any special favors and that she’s on thin ice. Mere minutes away from having her mom roll up here in a police car gunning for her ass, actually… don’t worry… you okay?” He turned his attention back to me.

“Y-yes sir,” I replied.

“Professor works just fine,” responded the professor as he turned his back once more.

He wrote the word ‘rules’ on the board.

His voice boomed as he addressed the lecture hall, “first things first some ground rules. I am going to be teaching real religious deities and practices. This means actual runes and witchcraft, which also means that under no circumstances are you to practice these, unless they are a part of your religious beliefs, of course. This means… absolutely no cursing, hexing, summoning, or rune writing in this or any classroom!”

Claire smirked, which the professor caught and didn’t let slide, “and under no circumstances is there any potion or relic making in any way, shape or form… Claire, I’m looking at you…”

Claire rolled her eyes as the class got underway.

After discussing the syllabus and course materials he began the lecture with a simple question, “Who can tell me the major differences in between Wicca and Witchcraft?”

I raised my hand and he picked me.

“That’s a trick question”

“Oh is it, explain.”

“Wicca is also known as Pagan Witchcraft. In Wicca they have no central deity, instead worshipping and giving thanks to the elements and personifications of these elements. Sometimes through prayer, other times through rituals that call upon the personifications of these elements. This is where the classical form of witchcraft comes from. There are light and dark witches, each specializing in their own forms of worship, although dark witches are known to hex and curse others, where as white witches can be seen as healers. Some who practice Wicca don’t even dabble in classical witchcraft at all…”

The professor’s jaw was wide open as I finished my explanation, “therefore...what you asked is a trick question.”

The professor smiled as he said, “I’ve been teaching this class for two years now and no one has gotten that question correct on the first try...except for you...bravo…” he then turned to the rest of the class, “for the rest of you who aren’t walking encyclopedias on Wicca and Witchcraft, read pages 13 to 45 for next class… although you, young lady may just wanna read it for fun” he said with a wink.. “alright...class dismissed, see? Who knew witchcraft isn’t that scary after all? See you on Thursday guys.”

Claire grabbed my hand and dragged me towards the podium, the closer I got to him the larger his frame became.

Finally, we were right in front of him, Claire practically bulldozing all of the other students that crowded the podium…

“Since the class is over, can I call you Sam now, Professor.” Over annunciated Claire.

“Depends on who we’re in front of, and how did it take you two years to get into my class, Claire? .” He said as he closed his briefcase, when he looked up he said, “ahhh my star pupil, knowing that much on the first day, I’m impressed.”

“This is my friend, Y/N Y/L/N… remember I came home raving about her when we first met?”

“Oh yeah… Claire said you had some major knowledge but I wasn’t expecting you to blow everyone out of the water on the first day…good job.”

“Thank you, “ I said shyly.

He looked at his watch and then said: “shoot I’m meeting someone to go over lesson plans, umm it was nice meeting you and Claire don’t get her in trouble.”

As soon as Claire was a few feet away, his hand brushed my arm and he said, “seriously, great work today. Just so you know…” he leaned in closer, “now that I know how smart you are, I’m going to be expecting much, much more out of you...no pressure” he chuckled. The next thing I knew he was out the door.

By the time I met Claire outside I was completely confused. Claire just looked at me as I said, “He is seriously gorgeous.”

“Eww, dude, he’s like my older brother, practically an uncle! Please don’t give me that mental image.” She smiled as she nudged me.

“You knew he would do that to me, didn’t you?” I asked, almost amused.

“Maybe…”

I  gave her the stink eye.

“Okay, I did know… What with the way you react to Channing Tatum and Thor, of course I’m not gonna tell you that Sam’s your type… knowing you…. You would’ve run for the hills and you would’ve never gotten to know him!” Said Claire.

“He’s a Professor, Claire… Not a Tinder date…” I scoffed, “Being with him in any way would be unethical.”

“Oh please, I know you... I’ve known you for four years, which means that I know that for Sam, you’d break any law in any and every country if he asked you to. Hell, you even called the man ‘sir’. Who does that?” Snickered Claire.

“Shut up, Claire. It just slipped out. He’s intimidating, he’s the literal size of a skyscraper ” I defended.

“If you think that he’s intimidating, then you’re gonna love the next Professor, come on, class starts in 15!” Said Claire as she walked me down the long corridor of the building.

I stopped mid-stride “Wait here it is, room, 132.” As soon as we walked into the hall it looked like a Halloween store, with different photos and mannequins of horror movie characters.

As we filed into the hall, Claire, once again, immediately pulled me to the front and center of the lecture hall. Not too long after that a man walked in and sat next to me. He had piercing green eyes and a jaw that could cut glass, absolutely stunning. He was also dressed up, my guess was that he is just a curious business student since he had a lollipop and looked as casual as his getup allowed.

I heard constant chatter about the professor, everything from him being a jackass to him being incredibly good looking and flirtatious.

As soon as the lecture hall filled up and it was time for class the man that was sitting next to me nudged me and said, “well, looks like it’s showtime,” and got up.

My jaw dropped as he stood and jumped onto the raised lecture area.

“Murder… It’s messy, most times…” The man said as he opened up a briefcase, already on the podium, he handed papers to the first student he saw. Some students chuckled at his shocking yet honest opening words.

“You are here to learn not just about why people kill, but how, how could this person kill another human being?  What were they thinking, if they were thinking at all? What’s their motive, What made them tick….How they kill the way they kill, and who was the person that they killed if that had anything to do with it. You are also going to learn some ties in between these guys,” he pointed to the more prominent horror movie character mannequin,” and the real thing.” He continued.

“My name is Dean Winchester and I am a professor in Abnormal Psychology, specializing in psychological profiling of killers who were dumb enough to get caught.”

He looked around the class as he stated, “This is going to get gruesome if the name of the course didn’t give it away already. You will see dismembered bodies, you will see blood, you will see the worst of humanity in this class… So if you’re squeamish… this isn’t the class for you. You can get up and leave, no one will judge you.”

Immediately 10 to 20 students got up and left, “The remainder of you… you are one of two types of people. You are either a murderer who’s looking to brush up on technique or you’re morbidly curious. That’s the only way you’d be crazy enough to take a class that isn’t even required for a criminal justice major.”

“Now, before I get the influx of questions, yes Professor Sam Winchester is my brother, we are not twins, I am four years older than him, we don’t discuss student’s grades but we do discuss students which means all of the rules for his classroom apply to mine.”

The professor’s face turned hard as steel, “ No potions, no hexing, cursing, rune making, or summoning. If you try, we will trace it back to you, and we will not only report you but reverse it onto you with no way of removing it… I’ve already had many students try to make a voodoo doll, love potions, persuasion spells, the whole nine so don’t think we haven’t seen it and that we won’t do anything about it.”

He then turned to face the board as he said, “don’t believe us, you’re more than welcome to try and find out. Every single shaman, healer, spellcaster, witch, all of them have their special signatures… we will find yours and you will not like what comes next.”

He started writing, “You can all read the syllabus on your own time, since you’re all college students, I assume you can read. If you give me 100% off your efforts, your grades will reflect that.. if you give me shitty work…. you’ll get a shitty grade, simple enough.”

“But we are starting… now.” He turned around to reveal that he wrote ‘serial killers’ on the board…

“Claire, about damn time you’re in my class. Tell me, what do you know about Ted Bundy?” He said as he crossed his arms and leaned on the podium, casually licking and sucking on the lollipop as he waited for an answer.

Claire looked at him and said, “well he’s a serial killer…”

Dean’s eyes narrowed as he said, “well, no shit Sherlock, what else, Claire….give me something!” Said Dean as he motioned in the air… “Anything…”

“Ummm he only killed women…”

He huffed and nodded as he said “Yes but what else, can anyone tell me what else he did? Anything about him?”

I raised my hand and the professor licked his lips and called on me, “C’mon give me something good..”

I started, “Ted Bundy, your classic deranged serial killer. He was active in the 1970’s and admitted to killing 30 women, although his kill count is expected to be much higher. He was most known for kidnapping, raping, and killing women, then dismembering the bodies, he was executed in 1989.”

His eyebrows shot up as he said, “tell me, did he take any souvenirs of his kills?”

“Yes, the heads of the women.”

“THANK YOU!!!” He exclaimed, “You must be Y/N… Heard nothing but good things from Claire and Sammy, I only expect the best out of you… So let’s get a little more challenging here… Tell me, Y/N… What’s the difference in between Ted Bundy and John Wayne Gacy?”

I replied simply, “John Wayne Gacy, nicknamed ‘the killer clown’ because his day job was being a clown at parties. Active in the 80′s. His victims were teenage boys and young men. His confirmed kill count is 33. He was also known for torturing as well as sexually assaulting and murdering the victims.”

“Very good Y/N… Something tells me you'll be teaching me a few things too.” Dean replied as he licked his lips and looked at me up and down.

After a lengthy class on different serial killers, he assigned us homework and dismissed the class, everyone practically ran out except for Claire and me, as she insisted on personally introducing me to him.

When I turned around to get my bag, I felt someone behind me. Then I heard the professor’s voice loud and clear directly behind me.”

“Hey, Claire… I remember you telling me about Y/N being smart and all, but you didn’t tell me that she had brains and beauty too.” He said, immediately making me blush.

When I turned around he was practically chest to chest with me. Noticing the awkward distance he stepped back a bit.

“Really Dean? You just met her and you’re already hitting on her?” Claire quipped, “it was bad enough that you couldn’t keep your eyes off of her the entire class.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, Claire.” Refuted the professor. He then turned his attention towards me, “I just wanted a proper introduction. Hello, My name’s Dean Winchester, it’s a pleasure to meet you and I can’t wait to have you in my class.” He extended his hand as I stood there, dumbfounded.

Claire nudged me and I accepted the handshake saying, “hello, and I can’t wait to get to have your class. This is really interesting stuff.”

Dean smiled, “The human mind is interesting… especially when a few screws are loose… but something tells me you already know that. Judging by the rockstar performance you put on today. I’m assuming that much of my course material as well as Sammy’s is going to be child’s play for you… So I want to offer you an opportunity.”

“Sure!” I exclaimed.

He smiled as he continued, “I know you’re graduating in a semester, and since you’re interested in this… I need a research assistant. I’m working on a book, something that the college is making me do. But I need people like you to help me research some things, it’s a paid position and I don’t mind counting it as an independent study. You’re an abnormal psychology major so I was hoping you’d be interested.”

“I am more than interested.” I immediately replied.

“Great. Then meet me in my office at 3 pm. I’ll have the W-9 paperwork and all of that drawn up by then. I look forward to working with you.”

Claire interrupted with, “hey…. why didn’t you offer me that?”

He just stared at her and said, “really? Claire no offense but you are nowhere near qualified for this.”

“What? I’m qualified!”

“Oh really, where do you get your information from? What website?”

“Wikipedia”

“Exactly… I rest my case…now I need to go and meet my brother for lunch… rub it in his face about how I got the notorious Ms. Y/L/N as my research assistant. I’ll see you both next class.”

DEANS POV:

Room 412: Professor Samuel Winchester.

I scoffed at the nameplate and just opened the door. Sam looked at me almost insulted…

“Dude… knock much?” He commented as he went back to grading papers or whatever he was doing.

“Oh please Sammy, it’s bad enough that we had to retire, now you’re complaining about manners too?”

“Listen Dean… I know this is hard for you.” Said Sam.

“Hard?” I commented. “This… this isn’t hard.. pretending I can do very well Sam. Burying Jack and mom… now that was hard. What’s impossible which somehow you are executing perfectly is acting like neither of them ever existed.”

“Dean, we had to move on and we agreed..”

“I know… we agreed that retirement is the only option. The only way we can save the people that we love.. I know..” 

Sam looked at me, with pain in his eyes, “you still having those dreams?”

I looked at him, “every single night. Mom throws herself on a bed of wood and waits for Jack to light it. Jack lights it and then walks into the flames with her… I can’t move… can’t do anything, Sammy.” I huffed as I loosened my tie and collapsed into the chair next to his desk motioning in the air.

“Maybe you should go to see somebody, Dean.” He replied gently.

“Like who? A shrink?” I laughed, “ I will be in the nearest asylum instantaneously, Sammy. How do I explain half of the shit we’ve been through? ‘Well, it all started when a demon nailed my mother to the ceiling and burned her from the inside out in my childhood home when I was 4’.... can’t imagine that going too well.”

“No… but you can talk to me.” He said as he put his pen down and looked at me, “So, listen Dean, I …”

“Not here… and not now, Sammy.” I interrupted, “The only person I’m seeing is the lunch lady for a double bacon cheeseburger with fries… now are you coming with me or are you going to stay up here doing this?” I asked.

“Ok Dean… let’s eat.”

When we got onto the elevator I struck up a new conversation, “so… Y/N Y/L/N…. she’s something else, right?”

“Yeah, she’s crazy smart.”

“One would think she’s a hunter,” I said absentmindedly.

“No way… no scars, not one scrap of flannel on her.”

“Y’know not every hunter wears flannel, Sammy. But you’re right… she isn’t battle hardened. Shame… she’d be one hell of a hunter…” I flashed a smirk and shrugged at Sam.

“Dean…” Sam warned.

“I know I know… keep a low profile… only kill the monsters that come looking for us.”

“And?”

I huffed, “and never bring someone else into the life… I know Sammy.”

When we got off of the elevator Sam said, “I’m actually thinking of asking her to be my research assistant.”

“Too late” I replied.

“You didn’t.” Said Sam as he stopped me.

“What? Try and find someone willing to look at gruesome crime scene photos all day and actually like it… I dare you…” I said as I continued walking, “by the way most people think that your field is mostly lore based… remember, and who doesn’t like to read fiction all day? I’m sure you’ll find someone.”

“Not someone like her…” Said Sam.

“Why do you think I asked first? You snooze you lose Sammy Boy.” I said as I play punched him on the shoulder.

“Oh please dean, you only hired her because she’s hot.”

“You know I’m almost insulted that you’d think that… she’s a student, Sammy”

“But she won’t be in three months… I know how you think Dean. She’s truly intelligent… she has a future… one that doesn’t involve your bed.”

“Listen the fact that she’s hot is beside the point, Sammy. She has the brains and the ability to digest information that others would go crazy doing. She’s perfect for the job.”

“Well, she’s perfect for my job too…”

“Sammy, this is a student, not a competition… by the way, I already won…”

“Did she sign the papers?”

My eyes went wide.

“Exactly”

WANT MORE? TELL ME SO!!! Tell me if I should do a Part 2!!

TAG ARMY:

@mamaredd123 , @impala-dreamer , @impalaimagining , @jotink78 , @nichelle-my-belle , , @scorpiongirl1 , @ilostmyshoe-79 , @teamfreewillimagines , @leatherwhiskeycoffeeplaid , @chelsea072498 , @brickwall035 , @maui137 , @mogaruke , @jayankles , @butiaintgonnaloveem , @kawaiilivkitty , @naviwhite , @emoryhemsworth ,              

@cole-winchester , @nanie5 , @emoryhemsworth , @carribear31 , @death-unbecomes-you, @clarinette07, @curlyhairedblueeyedangel, @deansbabygirl01, @anathewierdo , @atc74 , @kickasscas67, @mannls, @adoptdontshoppets, @meganywinchester, @xalgaliareptx , @healojane, @wolfiebucky, @rayvenrider, @screechingartisancashbailiff , @goodgodimaweirdperson, @beltzboys2015-blog, @animegirlgeeky, @paintballkid711, @dolphincliffs, @hawaiianohana15

 Wanna join the tag army? Shoot me an ask and consider it done!

[to-star-lake]

blue [ pt. 1 ]

pairing | pcy x reader count | 2.9k

“Wow, this is...” you heard Baekhyun say from next to you. 

“Yeah..no kidding,” you awed as the two of you stood before the entrance of the oceanside resort, your backpacks swung over your backs, hands lingering on the handles of your luggage, jaws dropped in astonishment at the hotel you were staying at. 

The two of you have been ogling at the resort ever since the van that brought you from the airport to the hotel turned the corner off the main road past a giant marble sign with the name of the resort. The road led through a lining of towering palm trees, and you and Baekhyun pressed your noses against the windows of the van, taking photos of the scenery. 

The van looped around the giant fountain, it’s surrounding pond so big it might as well be a lake, before pulling up to the entrance. The entire facade of the resort was built of stone, pillars rising from the marble landing up to a canopy like an ancient stone acropolis. 

“You guys like it?” The two of you turned as your manager walked up beside you in his nicely pressed business suit, his leather laptop bag swung over his shoulder, a single travel case next to him. You and Baekhyun simultaneously nodded your heads, eyes still wide, admiring the resort. 

He laughed and started walking towards the entrance, “Alright collect your jaws, let’s go.” The two of you quickly picked up your luggage, shuffling behind him. 

The check-in counter and the lobby of the resort was bustling with people. Men and women in business suits sipping coffee at a cafe in the corner, families dressed in t-shirts and swim suits applying sun screen by the front door, small children running about. 

“Ok, here’s your reservation confirmations, just go to any person at the counter,” your manager said as he handed you and Baekhyun each a sheet of paper. You walked up to the front desk and a nice, smiling woman greeted you as she took your name for the reservation to check in. She was telling you your room number and which direction it’s in when suddenly you heard a screeching voice next to you, “One of the bellhops said the bars here don’t open until after 5PM is that true?” 

You turned and looked at the girl that interrupted your transaction, standing next to you, leaning into the counter, blowing a bubble with the gum in her mouth, creating a loud smacking sound. She was in a tiny, glittering black dress, and you noticed the curls in her hair had spun out in all different directions, the makeup on her face smeared, heels in her hands, standing barefoot next to you. She must’ve just come back from an epic night out, you thought to yourself sarcastically, chuckling under your breath as you glanced at the wide-eyed concierge behind the desk. 

“Miss, that’s correct, bars open when all of the hotel restaurants open for dinner,” the woman behind the desk said cordially. “But if you like I could recommend a few restaurants outside the resort premises-”

“Ugh, laaaaame,” the girl cut her off, rolling her eyes, and turning and noticing you standing beside her. “Oh shoot, I’m so sorry, did I just cut in front of you?” she giggled. 

You smiled, “Oh no no, don’t worry, I’m pretty much already checked in, I just need to get my room key.” You hoped none of your sarcasm seeped through your words. But you could see in her face that even if it had, she wouldn’t have noticed. 

“Hey! Are they open or not!” you saw the girl twirl around as she heard a loud voice booming across the lobby. You turned and saw a group of girls, dressed up and yet a complete mess just like she is, standing around two guys in nice shirts, with their top buttons undone, hair messy, and ties untied, hanging from their necks. 

You watched as she sauntered back to her group and one of the guys swung his arm lazily around her neck, and she reached her hand up to lace her fingers around his. You saw her shake her head and the other guy hang his head in exasperation at her response. Wow, it must suck to not be able to get a drink at 9AM, you thought to yourself, chuckling. 

“Miss, I’m so sorry,” you heard the concierge say. You turned and looked back at her as she hastily swiped your credit card and handed you your room key and pointed down the hall in the direction of your room. 

“Oh no, please, don’t even worry about it,” you said, smiling. “I’m sorry for you guys.” 

“You have no idea,” she sighed, lowering her voice, “They’ve been here for a week, they’re famous amongst the hotel staff now. I can’t wait to get them out.” 

“Well judging by the look of them, you must at least be getting some nice cash outta that,” you laughed. 

“Ha, this is true, they have not been stingy with the tips,” she grinned, “Are you here for the conference or for vacation, Miss?”

“The conference,” you responded, and the concierge nodded, turning and brushing through a bin on the desk behind her before pulling out a bag with your name on the tag attached to it.  

“Ok, Miss, this is for you,” she said, handing you the bag and pulling out a folder from it. “This has everything you need, here’s the conference schedule, after hours-events, booth numbers, participating corporations, and sponsors all listed.” You took the folder from her, looking down at the schedule to see check which room your presentation was in. “And here are your business cards that we had printed for you per your company’s instructions,” she said as she handed you a small, sleek black box, opening it to reveal a set of polished and minimalist business cards with your name printed on them. 

“Thank you,” you said, smiling, seeing your name in print. 

“Enjoy your stay miss, and good luck at the conference,” the concierge smiled back. 

You waved to her, turning and finding Baekhyun and your manager standing next to the entrance to the coffee shop. 

“Dude, these are so nice!” Baekhyun raved, holding up one of his business cards for you to see. “I’ve never had a business card before, this is so adult.” 

You laughed, “Same, this is pretty cool.” 

You and Baekhyun had come to the resort for a business conference, representing your company. This was the first conference the two of you had ever attended, and both of you were both extremely flattered but also extremely nervous that your company chose you to represent them. The two of you spent months in preparation for this event, rehearsing and fine-tuning your presentations. 

The conference lasts for four days and each day is planned down to the second. Breakfast in the morning, networking before lunch, dinner with clients, and sometimes drinks afterwards. You were expected to socialize and engage clients as well as competing companies. The entire event made you feel like you’ve done enough socializing and smiling for a lifetime. 

By the end of the third day, both you and Baekhyun were absolutely exhausted. It was almost midnight and the two of you had finally gotten rid of a group of douchey consultants from a competing firm at the bar, and the two of you stayed behind to wind down. You sat across from Baekhyun in a corner table at a hotel restaurant. You laughed as you watched his head drop onto the table top, making a thudding sound. 

“Can we go home yet,” you heard him whine through the loudness of the restaurant, groups of people at the bar, by the pool table, laughing and yelling over each other. You smiled, circling your finger around the top of your glass of vodka. 

“Hey,” you said, watching as he lifted his head to face you. “We made it,” you smiled, watching him smile in return. He lifted his glass up and you clinked yours against it. 

“We really did,” he replied, setting his glass down. The two of you sat, letting a few moments of silence pass as you reflected on how hard the two of you fought for your work to be recognized within your company. How a year of extended workdays and weekends had now become realized as you were representing your company at this conference. 

“I think you have a stalker,” you heard Baekhyun say, his eyes low, looking over the rim of his glass as he lifted it up for a drink. You tilted your head in confusion at him. “This dude at the bar has been staring at you the whole time we’ve been here tonight. He was here yesterday too.” 

“Ha,” you laughed without turning to look. “Is he at least a cute stalker?” you rolled your eyes, your words coming out with full-fledged sarcasm. 

“Nah he looks super douchey,” Baekhyun said, setting his glass down. “Like one of those idiot consultants we ditched at the other restaurant, except like, somehow worse,” his face wrinkled into a disgusted frown, still looking in his direction. 

You hit his arm gently, “Dude you should probably stop staring at him then, I’m not trying to have another inane conversation with a consultant,” you laughed, putting air-quotes around the word consultant as you spoke. 

“Ugh you’re right,” Baekhyun sighed, downing the rest of his drink. “What the hell even is consulting anyways, it’s such a scam. A whole night of talking to these guys and I still have no idea what it is that they do.” He stood up, pulling his wallet out from his back pocket. “I’m gonna get another, do you want another?” You drank down the rest of your glass as well, nodding to him and he walked over towards the bar. 

You sat in silence, looking at the condensation that had formed on the outside of the empty glass in your hand, your fingertips tingling from the coldness of the ice. You found your mind drifting back to when you and Baekhyun had first become friends, how you helped each other through the rigorous demands of your ivy league curriculum. The late nights you spent studying at the library, or the late nights you stayed up at each other’s apartments, consoling each other over failed relationships. 

And you thought of how three years later, you’d both been recruited by your company right out of college to work on an impossible project, one that was designed to fail, one that they had no qualms about giving to two wide-eyed, enthusiastic young graduates, eager to learn. But you didn’t fail. The two of you made it a success. You felt a great sense of pride in what you’ve been able to accomplish together. 

Your thoughts were interrupted when you saw a figure slide into the seat across the table from you. You watched as he slid a glass of dark liquor across the table to you. “Baek, this is vodka, I was drinking vodka,” you said, looking up. 

You froze, realizing it wasn’t Baekhyun. But he looked familiar. Why did he look familiar? And then you remembered. You remembered the tuffs of messy, dark hair. The fancy, black shirt that hung from his tall frame. He didn’t look very different now. His hair was still a messy flop on his head. And he was wearing a different fancy black shirt. But his face still held the same smug expression of someone without a care in the world. 

“Can I help you?” you said, your annoyance ringing through your voice. You watched as the pompous grin on his face grew. 

“I could’ve sworn you were a scotch girl,” he said. His voice was low, raspy, and it would’ve been inaudible through the noisy restaurant if not for the fact he actually spoke quite loudly. 

You felt your eyebrows crinkle into an annoyed frown. “And what distinguishes a scotch girl,” you rolled your eyes. 

“A scotch girl probably prefers sitting at home alone reading books rather than going out and actually living her life,” he gave his unwelcome explanation. “Vodka girls are usually more fun,” he grinned, leaning back in his seat and sipping his drink, the fancy watch on his wrist gleaming in the dim restaurant lighting. 

You scoffed. “Wow, what a fresh perspective you have. Don’t you have someone else you can annoy? Like maybe one of those girls in the tiny dresses with the tiny IQs?” 

A smile grew on his face. “You don’t like me,” he said.

“Ha, what would give you that idea,” you crossed your arms in front of your chest, leaning back in your seat. 

“You don’t know me, but you don’t like me.” 

“Oh I know you,” you scoffed. “There are many guys out there just like you, you’re not as special as you think.” 

"Maybe not,” he grinned, taking another sip of his drink. “But you are.” 

“What is that supposed to mean.” 

He smiled, his eyes looking intently into yours. “I saw you on Monday,” he said. “You were sitting at a table in the coffee shop by the lobby, flipping through a stack of papers while typing a mile a minute on your laptop.” 

“I work, a concept that’s probably foreign to you,” you retorted. 

“But you were so engrossed in your work,” his smile never left his face, “Two babies were crying, one small child was running while his mother chased him across the lobby and he tripped and fell flat on his face, the man sitting at the table behind you spilled his coffee and an employee scrambled over with a mop. And you never looked up from your work.” 

You blinked at him. Did all of that really happen? “You’re exaggerating.” 

“I’m really not,” he laughed. “I thought I have to meet that girl. I’ve never seen anyone so blissfully ignorant to their surroundings in my life.” 

You scoffed, “Funny, I could say the same thing about you.” 

“That you had to meet me?” he smirked. 

“That you’re blissfully ignorant to your surroundings,” you replied. “Although you’re wrong. I may be unaware, but I’m not ignorant. That’s a word that more accurately describes you and your friends.” 

“You don’t know me or my friends,” his grin disappeared. 

“Maybe not, but I think I’d rather gouge out my eyeballs with a plastic spoon than spend another minute listening to you tell me about me.” 

“Chanyeol, we’re leaving, let’s go!” you heard a familiar voice yell across the restaurant. You turned to the bar and saw his tall friend with the dark black hair waving him over, his arm around a giggling girl, pushing him towards the restaurant’s exit. You turned back, seeing him down the rest of his drink. He smiled at you, “I’m being summoned.” 

You returned his smile in sarcasm, “So soon?” 

He grinned, standing up and walking past the table, but not before stopping behind your chair, placing his hands on the handles on either side of you, leaning down to your ear, the overwhelming smell of his expensive cologne pouring down in the air around you, “Good luck with your presentation tomorrow, vodka girl.” 

You scoffed, hearing his friend continuing to beckon him over as he walked towards them. How the hell does he know I have a presentation tomorrow? you thought. You rolled your eyes. He really is a stalker. 

“Ugh dude, sorry, they got me,” you looked up at Baekhyun crashing back into his seat across the table from you. “They found me man, they wanted to talk more about their billables and clients, I wanted to kill myself. They made me take tequila shots! I don’t do tequila shots!” 

You laughed, “I think those guys are really into you!” 

“Please don’t joke about that, my head hurts,” he dropped his head into the table, leaning on his arm sprawled across the table top. 

You stood up, walking over to him and pulling him up from the seat. “Alright, come on. We need to get some sleep.” 

You pulled his arm around your shoulder, holding him up as he stumbled next to you, walking out of the restaurant. “Oh, you met your stalker,” he said, burping through his words. “Sorry I left you alone.” You walked him towards his room, opening the door with his key. 

“Don’t worry about it, I think your situation with the consultants is a tad worse, you reek of tequila,” you answered, dropping him down on the bed. 

“Was he creepy?” Beakhyun slurred, pulling down a pillow and snuggling into it. You walked towards the door, turning the lights off. 

“No, he was just an asshole,” you answered under your breath, opening the door. “I’ll see you in the morning,” you said, closing the door behind you and walking down the hall to your own room. 

You kicked your shoes off, plopping down onto the bed, rubbing your thumbs against your temples. You scooted to the head of the bed, leaning against the pillows and opening your laptop to review your notes for the presentation tomorrow when you suddenly recalled the words he said to you. 

There’s nothing wrong with wanting to be alone and wanting to read instead of being a stupid drunk, you thought. You slammed your laptop shut, pushing it aside on the bed before crawling under the covers. You tried to forget about the whole exchange as you drifted off to sleep. And for the most part you were successful, but somehow his words had affected you. And you didn’t know why.

[themusesofmars]

Fanfiction Posted - Final Fantasy XV

@ignoctweek IgNoct Week Day 1, Prompt A: (Simple) Falling in Love Title: “Boys Will Be Boys” Rating: Teen+ (PG-13) Warnings: alcohol and tobacco use, strong language, mild sexual themes Synopsis: Noct is tired of being told what to do and sneaks out of the guys' hotel room to attend a midnight rave party. But he has unexpected company that leads to an unexpected romance. Fanfiction.net: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/12593731/1/Boys-Will-Be-Boys Archive of Our Own: http://archiveofourown.org/works/11656380

Ignis, Prompto, and Gladio sat on a cushioned bench in their hotel lobby, waiting for Prince Noctis to join them. They were in Lestallum for the first time—just a pit stop on their agenda—and were planning to see the sights and enjoy some R&R before getting back on the road the following morning.

At last Noct appeared at the top of the winding staircase, dressed casually in a T-shirt, his jacket, and jeans. His boots resonated on the polished wooden steps as he descended at a leisurely pace.

“Ugh, finally!” Prompto was the first to leap to his feet. “Let’s go get some eats!”

Noct reached his friends near the landing and was surprised to be greeted by angry looks. “Were you guys waiting long?” he wondered.

“Oh…only about forty-five minutes or so,” Ignis answered with sarcastic indifference, following Prompto as the freckled boy bounded for the exit.

Noctis shrugged, scratching the back of his head. He hadn’t bothered to comb his long, dark hair before coming downstairs and it was still tousled from where it had been pressed against his pillow for the last two hours.

“Get enough beauty sleep, Your Highness?” Gladio asked mockingly, rolling his eyes at the prince.

“Sorry, jeez!” Noct grimaced as Gladio gave him a hearty push toward the door. “Seems like you guys could have used a longer nap, yourselves,” he muttered.

“Maybe we wouldn’t be so hangry if you had gotten ready for dinner a little bit faster,” Gladio growled back at him.

Noct ignored him this time and shoved the front door open. He and Gladio were instantly assaulted by the humid evening air as they met up with Prompto and Ignis. There was a large sculpture fountain in the plaza just outside of the hotel, but it was bone dry and coated in a layer of dust.

“Damn!” the prince remarked, “This place is hot!”

Gladio shrugged. “Just take your shirt off.”

Noct shot him a glare, noticing that Gladio had left his own shirt unbuttoned and hanging wide open. “Like you?” he scoffed. “No. Way.”

“What? Too embarrassed to show off your scrawny little body?” the brawnier man snorted.

“Hey—I’ve got muscles. You just…can’t see them.”

Gladio walked away from him, muttering under his breath, “If you say so…”

“It is rather sultry this evening,” Ignis agreed, wiping away the steam that had misted his glasses upon exiting the air-conditioned hotel lobby with a handkerchief he promptly tucked back into the breast pocket of his perfectly-pressed dress shirt. “Well, shall we see if we can locate a pub? Or visit the city market, perhaps, to sample the local vendors’ dishes?”

“Any food is good food,” Prompto said quickly, his stomach rumbling in chorus.

Ignis appeared to be personally offended by the remark. “It most certainly is not! Have you learned nothing from my catering during our travels? ‘Any food,’ indeed!”

“I vote we find a pub,” Gladio decided. “I could really throw back a cold one right about now.”

Prompto grinned. “I’m with ya, big guy.”

“There will be no underage drinking on this excursion,” Ignis sternly corrected him.

As one, the two junior members of the group cried, “What?!”

“Prince Noctis,” Ignis admonished the youth, “His Majesty entrusted me with your safekeeping. At the very least I intend to see that you obey the law. Gracious!”

Noct crossed his arms irritably. “Hey, I’m on my way to be married, you know.”

“And you’re welcome to drink champagne at the wedding ceremony,” Ignis sighed, “but at this moment, you are my charge, and I won’t have you overdoing it in a public place and causing a scene where the press may be watching.”

Before Noctis could ready another retort, Gladio interrupted. “Less whining, more walking,” he snapped, “before I starve to death.”

The four men headed down the street to see what they could see. At the end of the block they heard an unexpected commotion. Looking up the street from the corner, the group spotted a large crowd swarming around covered stalls.

“It appears we’ve located the marketplace,” Ignis said, his eyes lighting up. “Quite the bustle!”

“Looks like chaos,” Gladio argued dismissively. “Let’s find a bar.” He kept walking.

Ignis stared at the entrance to the farmer’s market for just a moment longer before conceding defeat. “I suppose I could rise a bit early and purchase fresh produce in the morning,” he consoled himself.

They continued on their way. “This place gets pretty lively at night!” Prompto commented, looking back over his shoulder at all the people spilling out into the streets, talking and laughing.

“You can party when we get where we’re goin’,” Gladio scolded. “Just remember, tonight y’all are gettin’ your asses to bed good and early, cause we’re getting back on the road at daybreak.”

Noct was getting angrier by the minute. He didn’t like being treated like a little kid—especially not by Gladio. They were practically the same age, but the other man sure acted like he had seen and done it all. “Ugh, you’re taking us the wrong way!” the prince complained. “This is just an alley. And it stinks.” He wrinkled his nose at the stench clinging to the trash bags littering their path.

“Would you be quiet?” Gladio retorted. “Just hold your breath until we get up these steps. I see lights; there’s gotta be something ahead.”

Noct put his arm across his face and stalked up the stone steps after the others, his expression dark.

Prompto couldn’t help letting a laugh slip. “Dude, you look like a vampire,” he snickered. “Bleh! I vant to suck your blood!”

The prince lowered his arm. “Okay,” he grumbled to himself, “maybe some of us are too immature to have a drink with dinner…”

Gladio had been right—of course, damn it. At the top of the alley steps they found themselves in a court surrounded by food kiosks, cafés, and restaurants, many with outdoor seating areas. And business was apparently booming. Musicians played homemade instruments on the corner, filling the air with samba music as street performers danced and twirled fire batons to the beat. The city was like a carnival, and it was inviting them in.

“Whoa!” Prompto gasped, whipping out his camera to take a few shots. Photography was his new favorite hobby. “Aw, man! That guy’s selling balloon animals! I’m gonna get one.”

“Don’t fall for the tourist traps,” Gladio warned. “Besides, that thing will just get in the way. Iggy won’t let you ride up front with him if you’ve got one of them things obstructing his view while he’s driving.”

“Okay, okay…” Prompto sighed. “You’re such a buzzkill.”

A group of teenage girls walked by, chattering loudly. One of them bumped elbows with Noct as they passed, causing the prince to scowl. It had kinda hurt, and the girl that did it didn’t even apologize, but he was quickly distracted by their conversation and forgot about the tingle in his funny bone.

“I can’t believe we’re seriously going to a party in the tunnel!” one of them squealed excitedly.

“It’s not like there’s going to be any traffic using the bridge, what with all the daemons roaming around at night.”

“So what’s to keep them from attacking the rave?”

“Duh! The lights, silly?”

“Oh, yeah!”

The conversation faded with the girls’ laughter.

Noct was intrigued.

“Check that out over there,” Gladio said, nodding his head toward a corner pub bearing a sign that proclaimed its name to be The Shady Frond. The pub had a menu stand advertising hot wings and cold beer in front of its doors, which were propped open and oozing delightful scents.

“Think they have fries?” Prompto wondered.

“I’m certain,” Ignis replied with a nod.

“Woohoo! Let’s go!”

Gladio was already on his way, and Prompto quickly chased after him.

“Coming, Noct?” Ignis called.

The prince had been preoccupied, thinking about the conversation he’d overheard. “Uh, what? Oh, yeah. Yeah, I’m coming.”

The Shady Frond was filled with loud conversation and the sounds of sports on the large televisions scattered throughout the bar.

“I’ll go find us a table,” Ignis offered, weaving through the crowd.

“Find one next to the tube!” Gladio shouted after him. “I wanna watch the derby.”

Prompto’s eyes widened with excitement. “Chocobo racing! Yay!”

“I’m gonna have a look around,” Noctis announced, eyeing a corner filled with arcade games…and teenagers.

Gladio slapped him in the chest with the back of his hand, just below the collar bone. Noctis winced. “Don’t go disobeying Ignis, you hear me?” he warned. “No beer.”

“Whatever!” Noct turned and stormed away furiously. He was tired of that guy acting like he was the only grown-up in the group.

There was a jukebox in the corner with the arcade machines, and young people were drawn to its flashing neon lights like fireflies. Noctis fit right in with his young face and the way he was dressed—which suited him just fine because he was bored out of his mind, fed up with his self-appointed babysitter, and craving some action.

Two girls and a guy that looked about his age were standing in front of the jukebox, dancing crazily to a song he’d heard on the radio a lot lately. He thought it was called “Real Emotion.” They were holding colorful drinks with little decorative umbrellas sticking out of the glasses, and seemed like they were having too good a time to be interrupted.

Instead Noct found a couple guys standing at the back of a group circled around an arcade machine. While everyone else seemed entranced by the player, who was clearly kicking some serious Monster Hunter 5 ass, the pair of boys were holding an animated conversation of their own and laughing loudly.

“Hey,” Noct greeted them.

They stopped laughing and turned to face him. “Heya,” one of them greeted.

“What’s the score?” Noctis asked, jerking his head toward the arcade game.

“Pssht.” The shorter of the two boys, who was sporting a red T-shirt, gave a snort. “The real name of the game is ‘Impress a Girl.’ Mark’s just hoping to show up at the party with an actual date.”

Hello, opening! “Oh, yeah,” Noct said smoothly, “I heard there’s a rave tonight in the tunnel.”

“You heard right.” Both boys grinned.

“So what’s the deal?” Noct asked.

The taller of the guys—wearing sunglasses even though they were indoors—shrugged. “Dress for dancing, bring some drinks to share. Oh—and don’t tell your parents.” He enumerated the last rule with a smirk that made it obvious he hoped he didn’t really need to say it.

Noctis grinned. “Trust me, I won’t. What time does the party start, anyway?”

“Midnight! Are you going to make it?”

The prince nodded without hesitation. “Wouldn’t miss it.”

When Noct caught up with the others, they had found a small table within viewing of three different television screens. All of them were tuned in to the chocobo derby.

“There you are!” Ignis said as Noctis approached their group, sounding relieved.

“I told you he was checking out the arcades!” Prompto grumbled. “Why doesn’t anyone ever listen to me?”

“You lost that quick, huh?” Gladio taunted. He had a beer bottle in his hand, condensation streaming down its sides. At least there were plenty of ceiling fans in the packed pub, so Noct didn’t envy his refreshment too much.

“Nah,” the prince said, shrugging and claiming a seat of his own, “the line was too long so I just bailed.”

“Right,” Gladio sneered across the table, clearly in disbelief.

Noct bristled. But then Ignis said, “Erm, Noct—the server has already procured our order. I hope you don’t mind, but I took the liberty of ordering you the house burger.”

The prince backed down, his shoulders relaxing. “I hope you told them to hold the tomato. And the lettuce.”

Ignis shook his head and heaved a sigh.

Noct echoed the sound. He couldn’t even choose his own meals with these guys around. But at least Ignis patronized him because he gave a damn; Gladio was constantly trying to one-up him and put him down. Noctis consoled himself by thinking he probably did it because something didn’t quite measure up to the size of his ego.

Prompto cheered as his favorite chocobo, a bright green fowl with enormous plumage, pulled into third place in the races.

“There’s no way that bird’s gonna win, Prompto,” Gladio said, criticizing the younger boy’s choice.

“You don’t know that! Look at those little legs go! He’s so cute…” There were stars in the young blond’s eyes.

Gladio snorted. “And those pretty tail feathers are gonna help him drag his ass across the finish line last!”

“Who gives a shit about the details?” Noctis snapped. “If he likes the fucking green bird just because that’s his favorite color, let him like the goddamn green bird!”

“Hey!” Gladio slammed his beer bottle down on the table. “You’re supposed to be representing the royal family of Lucis. You’d better watch your mouth, you little shit!”

“Gentlemen, please!” Ignis put a hand on Noct’s shoulder and waved another in front of Gladio’s chest, though he didn’t touch him. “Let’s just enjoy a quiet meal and try not to argue, at least for an hour. Agreed?”

Noct wanted to say a lot more, but Gladio was staring him down, just waiting for him to do something childish, so he refused to. “Fine,” he agreed instead. He pulled his cell phone out of his jacket pocket and loaded up his favorite game, King’s Knight, and went about his business harvesting zell trees.

Gladio turned his attention back to the TV screen, jamming the mouth of the beer bottle between his lips.

Only once the two men had settled for ignoring each other did Ignis release his gentle hold on the prince’s shoulder. Prompto took turns staring at each of them until he finally regained his interest in the derby, only to see his precious lime green chocobo slip to sixth place before finally finishing last.

The pub was packed so it was a while before their food came, but when it arrived, it was in huge portions and piping hot.

“Oh, goody-goody-goody!” Prompto sang, rubbing his hands together when he saw how large his side of fries was. “Yummy in my tummy!”

“Now this is what I call a steak!” Gladio grinned, eyeing his meal hungrily.

Noct watched Ignis remove the bun from his own burger then look around for a bottle of ketchup. “Oh! There it is… Gladio, would you mind passing me that ketchup bottle? It’s at your elbow—no, on Prompto’s side.” The prince seized the golden opportunity to remove the bun from his own burger, pluck off the offending lettuce and tomato, and place them inside Ignis’s burger.

But he wasn’t very sneaky about it, and he hadn’t quite finished by the time Ignis was aiming the open ketchup bottle at his sandwich. Noct didn’t care; he just replaced the bun on his burger and lifted it to his mouth without another glance. And Ignis didn’t say a word to him about it.

After dinner, the four men strolled out of the pub in far better spirits and much improved tempers. Prompto gushed about the races in spite of the green chocobo’s disappointing loss while Ignis praised the local cuisine. Gladio trailed behind the others while he enjoyed a quiet cigarette and Noctis secretly made plans for escaping to go partying later that night.

Gladio checked the time on his phone. “It’s only nine o’clock,” he announced. “I think I’ll just say goodnight here then hit up another bar.”

“If you’re certain…” Ignis seemed hesitant to split the group, but he knew it was really none of his business what Gladio did in his spare time—so long as he reported for duty in the morning.

“Yeah. I’ll meet up with you guys tomorrow for our continental breakfast.” Gladio tucked his phone into his back pocket again.

“All right, then,” Ignis said agreeably. “We’ll head back to the Leville and get to bed early.”

“Hey!” Prompto argued, “I want to see the street performers. And I might still want a balloon!”

“You’ll see plenty of performers—and better ones—at His Highness’s wedding,” Ignis soothed.

“How come Gladio gets to stay out?” Prompto pouted. “Maybe I wanna go to the bar, too!” He appealed to the prince’s heavily-tattooed bodyguard. “Can I go with? Please?”

“Heh.” Gladio tossed his cigarette butt to the ground. “Where I’m going, kids ain’t allowed.”

“Aw, come on! I’m not a kid, Gladio! Please? Pretty-please?”

Gladio shook his head. “You probably ain’t ever seen a real—”

“Ah-ah! That’s enough,” Ignis quickly interrupted. “We’ll go back to our hotel suite, and perhaps the prince would like to play a video game with you before bed. Yes, Noct?”

Noct could not even believe this conversation. “Fine,” he agreed, throwing his arms up in the air. “Whatever.” He started walking toward the hotel.

“Sweet! King’s Knight!” Prompto skipped after him.

Ignis watched the boys for a moment, then bade Gladio goodnight. He didn’t feel it necessary to warn him about staying out too late or drinking too much, but he thought he might soon ask him to tone down the condescension a bit, because it was clear it was having an effect on Noct. The last thing the prince needed to be was sour and spiteful on his wedding day.

He walked briskly until he caught up with Prompto and Noctis, noticing the way the freckled blond kept prattling excitedly and how the prince barely even paid him any mind. Just what was going through his brooding, royal head?

Back in their hotel room, Prompto could tell Noct wasn’t really into King’s Knight and let him off the hook after just fifteen minutes. Once they’d returned, Ignis had relented and said they didn’t have to go right to sleep, so they turned on the TV to see if anything good was on. Prompto wanted to watch cartoons, but after just one segment of Adult Swim Noctis stole the remote and changed the channel to a nature documentary about the mating rituals of spiracorns.

“Urgh!” Prompto whined when Ignis said it was the prince’s turn to choose a program. “But this is booooriiiing!”

“So? Go to sleep, then,” Noctis told him.

Ignis cocked an eyebrow.

“I don’t have a choice,” Prompto muttered on his way to the bathroom to change and brush his teeth. “If I have to listen to this for five more minutes, I’ll pass out!”

Ignis likewise thought the show an unusual choice for the prince. But Noct sat attentively in a chair positioned right in front of the television, hardly blinking, even after Prompto had climbed into bed and fallen asleep. Ignis was growing understandably suspicious, but he couldn’t argue against letting the younger man expand his mind, even if the hour was growing late. Perhaps he was using the program as some sort of vengeance, but it wasn’t as though he were out with Gladio, spending money on…less wholesome activities. So Ignis permitted this one indulgence. Eventually he, too, turned in for the night, leaving the prince to view the documentary by himself with the volume down low.

Noct sat in front of the TV for more than an hour before he was satisfied that Ignis was asleep. He left the television on as he rose from his lounge chair and quietly tip-toed over to his bed, carrying a pair of decorative pillows from the sofa with him. He turned down the blankets and stuffed the pillows between the sheets before covering them back up. It might not fool anyone looking closely, but he was satisfied that at a passing glance it would appear as though he were the one bundled up under the blankets.

With that, Prince Noctis pulled on baseball cap to help mask his identity and then quietly left the room, gently closing the door behind him. He had cash and a spare room key in his wallet, so he figured he was good to go. If he beat Gladio back to the room, great. If not, the other man would probably be too drunk to notice anything amiss.

It was only a few blocks’ walk to the tunnel, and Noct figured it would be near enough to midnight by that point that he’d be just in time for the party. Along the way, he remembered that one of the kids he’d talked to at the pub arcade had told him the party was a B.Y.O.B. Fortunately there was an open convenience store along the way—one that sold mostly junky souvenirs to tourists, but that also carried cold drinks and cigarettes. He figured those would pay his cover charge to the rave.

Noct put on a mean face when he got up to the counter—thinking about Gladio helped do the trick—and hoped he looked the right age. He was 20, just a year shy of legal age to make the kinds of purchases he was about to attempt, but if he was asked to provide his ID he’d be in for it. Nobody would believe that Prince Noctis of Insomnia was trying to illegally buy contraband, all alone in a strange city with no guardians. And his dad would probably kill him if he got arrested.

Noct browsed around a little, partly to kill time. It was tempting to pick up a few snacks, but he decided against it; for one, Ignis wouldn’t like him spoiling his appetite with cookies and chips, and secondly, he didn’t have all that much spending money on hand. So finally he chose a beverage and carried a case up to the register, then pointed to the cigarettes behind the counter.

While the cashier grabbed a pack of Marlboros for him, the prince noticed a rack of photo albums. They were thin, meant to hold about twenty postcards or vacation photographs, but one of them was bright yellow and had a flock of colorful chocobos on the front cover. Noct warred with himself for a minute before adding it to the pile. Prompto had better love the thing, cause Noct had a feeling it was about to get him into trouble.

The middle-aged man waiting to ring up his purchases suddenly braced his hands on the counter and leaned forward with mistrust evident in his eyes. “You aren’t looking to get yourself into trouble tonight, are you, son?” he asked warily.

Noct steeled his jaw and swallowed back the kind of retort his tongue was used to giving—the kind that would have been fine to use on Gladio, but not necessarily on a suspicious shopkeep. “Just heading back to my hotel room to relax,” he replied, raising a hand to his hip casually.

“Mhm. And this?” The clerk held up the photo album.

Noctis shrugged and said, as coolly as he could manage, “It’s for the kids.”

The man sighed and frowned. “Right,” was all he said, though, and rang everything up. “That’ll be three-hundred and fifty gil.”

Noctis paid the man, trying not to sigh out loud with relief. He accepted his receipt and dropped it into the bag. “Thanks.”

“Don’t do anything stupid,” was the response he received.

Stupid? Noct thought, exiting out onto the street. Was it stupid for the Crown Prince of Lucis to sneak out of his hotel room without telling anyone and without an escort to go to a midnight rave out in the open, where daemons—or worse: the paparazzi—could attack?

Maybe so, but by the end of the week he’d be married, a pawn of the Empire. He figured he owed it to himself to live a little while he had the chance.

Noctis could hear the pounding rhythm of techno music echoing from the bridge from a block away. He could see the lights, too, though he wasn’t quite so confident as the raving teens that neon pink, green, orange, and blue glow sticks would keep the daemons at bay. But maybe the strobes would do it, he reconsidered as he stepped through the tunnel entrance and into the party.

The music was earsplitting; if anyone was talking and laughing now, he couldn’t hear them. The beat was pounding so hard it felt like it was thumping in his chest, and Noct found he couldn’t help but walk to its pulse as if in some hypnotic trance. He’d never seen so many young people in one place at one time before. Locals and vacationers mixed to make up the throng, packing the tunnel wall-to-wall. The prince wove his way through the crowd, looking for some place to set his beer case down. Finally he found the apparent Central Station, where a DJ booth had been turned into a bar by surrounding mismatched tables. At least a couple people were trying to tend bar, more or less pouring whatever they found in bottles into plastic cups, hoping to earn some tips. Noct reached into his bag and removed the photo album, tucking it into his jacket. He set the beer case down next to some other drinks and turned the bag upside down so the three cigarette cartons he’d picked up dumped out, too. The DJ, sporting spiky blue hair and sunglasses, gave him a thumb’s up. Noct waved, the wadded up the plastic bag, and tossed it into a dumpster before snatching a bottle of water off the table and making his way toward the edge of a dancing mass.

Noct bobbed his head to the music as he watched the dancers, considering approaching someone. At least if they turned him down he wouldn’t be able to hear any harsh rejections, he thought.

That was when he felt a tap on his shoulder.

Noct turned, his eyes widening when he saw Ignis standing directly behind him. If the heavy bass hadn’t been in total control of his pulse, his heart would have skipped a beat.

“Are you having a good time?” was the first thing out of Ignis’s mouth.

The question caught Noct off guard. “What are you doing here?” the prince asked, less irritated than he would have thought to discover he’d been followed.

“Oh, the same as you, I expect,” Ignis answered nonchalantly, adopting a casual stance.

Noct was skeptical. “Oh, yeah? Well, I came here to dance.”

“So what are you waiting for?” Ignis challenged. Before Noct could shoot his mouth off, the older man said, “Come along, then,” and grabbed hold of the prince’s wrist.

“Wait—what?” Noct stammered as Ignis pulled him into the mob of dancers.

Ignis spun around to face the prince, looking as confident and composed in a rave full of teenagers as he did in the king’s audience chamber at the Citadel back in Insomnia. “Dance with me, Noct!” he shouted to be heard over the music, already beginning to move.

“Are you serious?”

“Isn’t this what you came here for?” Ignis reminded him, shimmying his shoulders as his hips got in on the action.

“Not…exactly.” Noct was sure he was flushed from more than the tightly-packed body heat trapped inside the tunnel.

“Come on!” Ignis encouraged. “You’ll look foolish if you’re the only one standing there. Don’t you want to blend in?” he taunted, tugging the bill of Noct’s hat down over his eyes.

Noct squinted as his bangs covered his line of vision. He lifted the bill of his cap, only to see Ignis waving his arms in the air, his feet stomping to the beat as he moved closer.

He no longer had any choice; the rhythm was resounding throughout his body. And with everyone around him jumping and writhing—even Ignis getting down—his limbs started moving of their own accord.

“That’s it!” Ignis cried, his body rocking to the beat.

Noct grinned as he watched Ignis move as freely while dancing as he did when slicing through their enemies on the field of combat. “Who knew you were fun?” he mused in wonder.

“You’ve yet to see what I’m capable of,” Ignis responded with a sly look in his eyes. Suddenly he was unbuttoning his dress shirt, revealing a peek of the smooth chest beneath it. He slipped his glasses off his face and tucked them into the V at his neck, then rolled up his sleeves, revealing the glowing neon bracelets strapped around his wrists.

“No freaking way,” Noctis laughed. “I do not even know you.”

Ignis danced into him, bumping his chest so hard with his shoulder that Noctis dropped his water bottle and had to reach out and grab hold of him to keep from stumbling backwards into someone else. Ignis took hold of his hips, steadying him. The beat of the music had slowed and deepened. One of the taller man’s legs was pressed between Noct’s, and he was dancing close.

Noct looked up, holding onto Ignis’s shoulders tightly as their eyes met—the prince’s wide and curious, Ignis’s fiery and bold.

“I know why you came here tonight,” Ignis said, bending his head so he could speak directly into the prince’s ear and be heard by him alone. “Why you really came here.”

Noct’s arms wound around Ignis’s neck in an effort to keep himself upright, because the other man was leaning into him so hard he was forced to either hold on or fall over. His throat went dry and he lamented having lost his grip on his drink. There was no pretending he hadn’t heard what Ignis had said, so the prince tried to make light of the situation. “You caught me,” he confessed, “I’m just here to piss Gladio off.”

The corner of Ignis’s mouth turned up in a disbelieving smile. He shook his head, his dark emerald eyes burning into Noct’s cloudy blue. “I know you, Noctis. I understand the heavy burdens you’ve felt weighing you down: the pressure from Gladio to train harder, to become stronger; the responsibility you feel toward others, particularly in regards to taking care of your friends; the royal demands His Majesty has hoisted upon your young shoulders…such as this wedding.”

Noct’s mouth was dry as a desert. Ignis was still dancing so close. Too close.

He knew too much. Noct had never told anyone—especially not Ignis—how he really felt about his political betrothal to the foreign princess. Now Ignis was reminding him why the discussion had never been necessary; they’d known each other for a long time, and some thoughts and feelings could be shared between them without ever speaking a word.

“You’ve been yearning for freedom,” Ignis continued, “but that’s being snatched away from you before you even have the chance experience it. You came here tonight because you’re craving release, like a wild animal caught in a trap.”

“You’re the one who’s acting like a wild animal,” Noctis panted breathlessly. At first he wasn’t sure Ignis had heard him; the music was so loud he couldn’t hear himself.

But Ignis had. “Perhaps we’re both seeking release,” he said in Noct’s ear again, his voice so deep and husky the boy shivered in spite of the warmth of the body pressed tightly to his. Then Ignis drew back, staring the prince down. “Well?” he prompted for a response. “Am I wrong?”

Noct stared right back up at him. How did Ignis know? How did he always know?

Slowly, the prince shook his head.

Ignis did not seem surprised by his silent admission. “Then, Highness,” he said, leaning down until they were nose to nose, “allow me to set you free.”

The prince gasped and held his breath. For some inexplicable reason, he suddenly thought Ignis might kiss him. But instead the taller man pulled out of his arms and stepped away. Noct let his breath out in a shaky sigh. Ignis smiled and caught hold of his hand, leading him towards the bar.

“…Are you going to let me drink?” the prince asked in surprise as he watched Ignis flag down the impromptu bartender.

“Let you?” Ignis scoffed. “Did I say you could attend a party in the first place?”

“No.”

“Did I grant you permission to be out at all hours?”

“…No.”

“Well, then, I suppose it’s not up to me to decide whether or not you’re going to have a drink,” Ignis said with a shrug, “but I certainly am.” To the kid tending bar he said, “One cosmopolitan, please.”

The boy looked at him blankly.

Ignis sighed heavily and muttered, “I forgot we aren’t in a proper club.”

Noct gave him a look. “When have you ever been in a ‘proper club’?”

“Never mind, Noct. Er, I’ll have some of that,” Ignis said instead, accepting a substitute drink. He leaned an elbow on the counter while the kid poured. “It’ll be a bit strong, but a little won’t hurt. One drink tonight and I can still drive in the morning.”

“I’ll have one, too,” Noct called, aware of Ignis’s eyes on him and feeling both self-conscious and grown-up. Ignis didn’t berate him, though, and he felt almost as proud as he was nervous as they each accepted a plastic cup half-filled with a clear liquid. He sniffed his cup, trying to imagine what it was going to taste like.

Ignis raised his drink and touched the rim of his cup to Noct’s. “Cheers!” He threw his head back and downed the fiery liquid in a single swallow. “No, no—don’t sip,” he gently corrected the prince. “Trust me, you don’t want that taste lingering in your mouth. Just toss it back—there you go.”

Noct choked as his throat burned.

“One more to wash it down with,” Ignis decided, beckoning to one of the boys behind the bar again.

The prince’s eyes were wide as Ignis accepted two more clear plastic cups and offered him one. He waved Ignis’s hand away. “Nah, I’m good.” He coughed.

“Noct!” Ignis seemed put out. “Are you a peasant or a prince? Have another shot.”

“Are you serious?”

Ignis pushed the cup into his hand and looked at him sternly. “Would you accept if it were Gladio challenging you?” he asked.

Noctis frowned. He would. They both knew he would.

He took the cup from Ignis and this time drank without choking on it.

Ignis followed suit, then slammed his cup down on the counter. “One more for the road.”

Noct licked his lips then wiped the back of his hand across his mouth. “Ignis, are you trying to get me drunk?”

“Whatever for?”

“I dunno…” Noct shrugged. “To teach me a lesson or something?”

“A man’s first drink shouldn’t be on his wedding day,” Ignis said decisively. “You should know your limits. And your preferences.” He gestured for the boy behind the bar again, this time pointing to various ingredients and instructing him in making a proper cocktail.

Noct grinned. He kind of liked it when Ignis was all take-charge and bossy. “You want to get back there?” he kidded.

“Not for what they’re paying,” Ignis muttered. He corrected the teenager on the other side of the counter another time or two, but finally they each had a plastic cup in hand. Ignis’s drink was red and smelled strongly of cherries; Noct’s was faintly yellow. Ignis draped an arm around his shoulders and steered him away from the crowded DJ booth and bar, leading him in no particular direction.

“What is it?” Noct asked, holding his drink up dubiously. “Looks like piss.”

“It may taste like it, too,” Ignis warned. “Whiskey sour. Or,” he corrected, “a reasonable facsimile thereof.” Noct started to raise the cup to his lips when Ignis added, “Don’t chug that.”

Noctis assumed that meant it was safe to sip this time and drank a mouthful slowly. It was pretty gross. But Ignis seemed to be enjoying his own cup, taking slow sips and nodding his head in appreciation, so he pretended to like it.

“Would you care to dance some more?” Ignis asked.

Noct shook his head. “Not really. I like this better.” His face felt hot again as he realized all he was doing was strolling through the tunnel with Ignis’s arm around his neck.

But then Ignis said, “So do I.”

To be honest, Noct was pretty much finished with the party. He didn’t know anyone here besides Ignis—which was a plus in his book, but it meant there wasn’t really anything to do other than to dance or drink. This excursion had been more about rebellion and—as Ignis had guessed—freedom. He’d just wanted to make a decision on his own for a change and act on it.

But he wasn’t ready yet to call it a night. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d spent time alone with Ignis. When they were kids, Ignis had been his sole companion, but they’d drifted apart in high school. Ignis had been prepping for college, since he was two years older than the prince, and Noct was coming to realize how attractive his looks and royal title were to the opposite sex. They had just grown too busy to go star-gazing like they used to.

“What are you thinking about, Highness?”

Noct turned his head to look up at Ignis. The taller man was gazing at him with eyes that sparkled with mischief. “You,” he answered, hoping to shock Ignis. Ignis’s ash blond brows shot up with surprise and he couldn’t hold back a laugh. “You used to be such a square. I can’t believe you brought me to my first party.”

“I didn’t bring you here,” Ignis reminded him.

“Yeah, I know…” Noct shrugged. “But we’re here together now.” He realized with dull surprise his tongue suddenly felt thick. Had he just slurred his words together?

They passed by a barrel being used for waste and tossed their empty cups away. Now that his hand was free, Noct wasn’t sure what to do with it. Perhaps emboldened by the alcohol, he finally slipped his arm around Ignis’s waist.

They were walking along the fringes of the party. It seemed the teenagers of Lestallum were unwilling to round the corner of the bridge and venture into the darkness beyond for fear of daemons. The music was still loud on the far side of the rave, but the flashing lights were dimmer and the crowd had thinned out. Ignis took advantage of the privacy to pull Noct around the side of a concrete column. He wrapped both arms around the prince’s shoulders and leaned in close, breathing in his scent as he pressed him gently against the stone wall.

Noct’s arms wound around Ignis’s waist in a warm but unsure embrace. Had it been his imagination, or had Ignis kissed his head? What were they doing right now?

It felt like an eternity passed as they stood there. Noct’s heartbeat alternated between racing anxiously and beating in a comfortable, steady rhythm. Ignis felt like home to Noct, but he’d never held him like this before. When he realized he could feel Ignis’s heart beating against his own chest, he tried to slow his breaths to control his pulse. He didn’t want to give anything away. But what was there to reveal, exactly?

Ignis hugged him a little tighter and began to sway. Noct felt dizzy. He laughed without meaning to. He just felt like he was on a rollercoaster at an amusement park. He was enjoying himself.

“What?” Ignis asked. Noct could hear the smile in his voice. “What’s so funny?”

“Nothing,” Noct said, laughing again. “I just don’t know what we’re doing right now.”

“What do you want to do?”

“I—” Noct’s heart went back to hammering. “I don’t know.”

“Don’t you?” Ignis nuzzled the bill of his ball cap with an angular cheekbone, lifting it so he could look into Noct’s eyes. “Tonight, you’re free. You can do anything you wish.”

“Is that true?” Noct stared up at Ignis. “Is that even possible?”

“There’s no one here but us,” Ignis said, silently promising to keep all Noct’s secrets.

“Well… What about you?” Noctis pressed, his fingers digging into the taller man’s back. “Are you free to do what you want?”

“No, Noct,” Ignis said, his voice deep and breathy. “You are my prince; I am but your humble servant. I will do whatever you wish.”

Noctis found his breaths growing labored. All at once he did know what he wanted to do, but he couldn’t be sure it was what Ignis wanted. He only needed to determine whether or not that mattered.

The fingers gently stroking the back of his neck helped him decide. Ignis had never looked so attractive before, with his collar undone and his sleeves rolled up and his glasses resting against his chest. Noct angled his chin slightly as he tilted his head back, his lips pursed. He was nervous and a little afraid, but he would never in his life have another chance like this.

But he didn’t dare. What he was feeling was something he knew was forbidden, maybe even unwelcome. The alcohol hadn’t made him that brave. All he managed to do was softly whimper. “Ignis,” he breathed, clutching the other more tightly.

He did not have to speak the words. Ignis knew what he wanted. He had always known him best. He had taken care of Noct all their lives, whether the prince had been picked on by the bigger kids at recess or sick with a cold, or hurt by someone’s unkind words. And like all those times before, Ignis knew just how to soothe the pain he was feeling without his ever needing to ask or explain himself.

The older man leaned down to capture Noct’s lips with his own in a kiss that relieved his fears and shattered his expectations. It was not a gentle kiss, but Ignis’s lips were immeasurably soft under their passionate pressure.

Noct’s eyes widened with shock as he watched his best friend kiss him. Ignis’s eyes were closed and his brows were furrowed in an expression of concentration. He’d never seen him look so intense before. And the way he was holding him now was exciting, one arm cradling him and the other wrapped tightly around his waist.

He had never been kissed before. There was no one he had ever wanted to kiss. He hadn’t even been sure he’d wanted to kiss Ignis until this moment, but he was certain now.

The pressure of Ignis’s mouth against his slowly waxed and waned, like a boat rocking on the ocean. Noct felt dizzy and his knees grew weak. In the split second before he passed out, the prince realized he’d been holding his breath the whole time Ignis was kissing and caressing him. He fainted with an amused smile on his lips, then everything went dark before he even heard Ignis call his name.

It was dark, but the boat never stopped rocking. Noct became gradually aware he was on his back. He could feel a gentle weight above him. It slowly dawned on him that the weight was Ignis. They were the source of the motions that caused his dizziness, but what they were doing felt so good he didn’t want to stop. The disorientation of it just made him feel carefree and light. The pleasured sound he made was partly a laugh, partly a moan.

Then he heard the sound of a door slamming and suddenly a bright light blinded him.

“What the hell are you doing?” someone demanded.

Noct’s eyes flew open. His hand was down the front of his pants and Gladio was standing five feet away in the foyer of their hotel suite.

The prince scrambled into a sitting position from where he’d been reclining on the couch. Luckily there was a blanket covering his body so Gladio hadn’t, he hoped, seen him in a completely compromising position. He felt sweat prickling along his forehead but thanks to Gladio his hard-on was quickly softening.

“What are you still doing awake?” Gladio wanted to know.

Noct wondered the same thing. He was lying on the couch by himself in front of the TV. And on the screen was a nature channel documentary about the rare and elusive rainbow frogs.

Had he fallen asleep watching this crap and never made it to the rave? Had he never danced with Ignis? Never had his first real drink? His first— Had everything been a dream?

“Get your ass to bed, kid,” Gladio grumbled, peeling off his jacket. He reeked of booze and cigarette smoke and something worse.

He didn’t need to tell Noct twice. The prince scrambled off the couch, nearly tripping as he kicked the blanket free of his legs. He didn’t remember having that… His best guess was that he had fallen asleep watching the show about spiracorns and Ignis had left him on the couch to sleep, dutifully covering him up to keep him from getting chilled. That was the only explanation; the decorative pillows he could have sworn he’d hidden in his bed were still on the sofa where he’d imagined finding them earlier.

Noctis sighed and hauled himself into bed. So it had all just been a crazy dream… It figured. Of course, it hadn’t been his idea to get engaged to a princess he’d met one time when he was just eight years old. But he’d gone along with the arrangement because he was the prince. It was what he was supposed to do.

But his dream had granted him a vision of what life might be like if he had a choice. It had shown him what he had been afraid to admit to himself he wanted. And now he had no idea how he was going to get Ignis out of his head.

The next morning, true to threat, Gladio had the guys roused by the crack of dawn. Noct and Prompto, the youngest but least morning-inclined of the group, stumbled all over each other trying to shower, brush their teeth, and pack up their belongings. They loaded up the car while Ignis made a quick trip to the market as he’d wanted, then had a rushed breakfast at a local diner before finally piling into the Regalia.

Before they got well and truly underway, Ignis pulled up to a pump at the Lestallum gas station to fill the tank. The sound of the driver’s side door slamming after he climbed out made Noct’s ears ring.

Noctis had never experienced a hangover before, and if last night had really been a dream then he couldn’t be having one now, but he did have a splitting headache and the morning sunlight was making it a million times worse. He pulled the bill of his hat down low over his eyes and closed them, intending to catch a few Zs in the back seat. But before he could doze off next to Gladio, who was reading over the morning paper, Prompto leaned toward him from the front passenger seat and tapped his leg.

“What?” Noct grumbled.

“Can I see your CDs?” Prompto asked hopefully.

“Sure,” Noct answered through gritted teeth.

Prompto could tell Noct was in a bad mood, but he couldn’t reach the prince’s backpack. “Do you mind handing them to me?” he asked timidly.

With a heavy sigh, Noct opened his eyes and leaned forward so he could pick up the backpack he had half-crammed under the driver’s seat in front of him. He didn’t bother digging around for the CDs, but shoved the entire bag at Prompto before flopping back into his seat, pulling the bill of his hat down low again.

“Thanks, buddy!”

Noctis cringed as he listened to the backpack being unzipped. It was like the sound of glass smashing in his ears. He groaned painfully and squeezed his head. “Prompto!” he snapped as the blond rummaged through his bag.

“What? Oh—hey! Where did you get this?!”

Noct didn’t care what Prompto was looking at and he didn’t care to answer, but he did find himself growing curious at the excitement in the younger boy’s voice. Finally he took off his hat and leaned forward again to see what the fuss was all about. “What is it?” he asked, squinting his dark-rimmed eyes.

Prompto was holding a thin yellow photo album.

“Dude!” he wailed, heedless of Noct’s migraine, “I can’t believe you got one of these and didn’t show them to me! You know how much I love chocobos.”

Noct stared in confusion at the item in Prompto’s hands. That was the photo album he’d bought for Prompto last night, when he made a beer run for the party. But hadn’t he dreamed all that? He’d never left the couch.

“That’s a dick move,” Gladio commented, turning the page of the paper with a rustle that might just as well have been a hurricane.

Noctis winced. “Actually, I bought that for Prompto,” he snapped back at the older man.

“Really?” Prompto was grinning at him with shining eyes. “Dude! You’re the best!”

Ignis returned from paying for their gas and climbed into the car, reaching for his seatbelt.

“Ignis, look what Noct got for me!” Prompto chirped excitedly.

“Yes, I see that, Prompto. Oh, Noct?” Ignis turned around in his seat and handed Noctis a can of frozen juice and a small bottle of Excedrin.

“What’s this for?”

“Your migraine.”

Noct accepted the cold drink and the pills. “How did you—?” he started to ask, then caught Ignis’s knowing look in the rearview mirror. He shut up and opened both the can and the bottle gratefully.

Ignis turned the key in the ignition to start up the Regalia, checked for traffic, and then pulled out of the gas station parking lot and got them on the highway.

It was then Noct noticed something peeking out from beneath the sleeve at his wrist as his hand took a steady hold of the steering wheel: a neon bracelet.

[obsessive-fics]

Title: Kiss Me on the Mouth (And Set Me Free)

Rating: T

Word Count: 1756

Summary:  Dan finally manages to get an invitation to The Underground, an extremely exclusive club. While there, he is mesmerized by Luna, a captivating drag queen that looks a lot like the gorgeous stranger he met earlier that night

[Read on Ao3]

The Underground was the most exclusive club in the city. It was located under the busiest part of the city, only accessible by a series of hidden tunnels. Dan had only heard about it in hushed whispers, only dreamed of ever seeing it in person. Until now. You could only get into The Underground by invitation- each one came with a set of directions.

Dan had received his invitation that morning, slipped under his door. When he stepped outside to see who could have left it, there was no one. He looked down at his invitation excitedly. Finally! He was the last of his friends to be invited, and the thought for sure he never would be. He’d been listening to his friends rave about the club for months, about free love and the incredible club kids and drag queens that performed there every weekend. They’d been especially enthusiastic about a queen named Luna, who was apparently the most memorizing performer there. He’d sat, stewing in envy, wondering why no one had invited him yet. But all that had changed in a day.

After about twenty minutes of following the tunnels, Dan came to an ornate doorway. Two tall, burly men stood on either side of it, arms folded. This place was seriously guarded. He held out his invitation timidly, worried they’d take one look at him and turn him away. Instead, they nodded, handing him back his invitation and opening the doors.

The Underground was even more amazing than his friends had described it. There were flashing rainbow lights being streamed across a crowded dance floor, and a live DJ playing music. There was a bar at the far end of the room, and bean bag chairs where people were sitting, drinking, and watching the dance floor. Dan found familiar faces in his friend Jane and her girlfriend Theo and made his way over.

“You’re here!” Jane squealed, jumping up and hugging him.

“I am,” he laughed hugging back.

“Took you long enough,” Theo joked, patting the seat next to her. Dan sat down, and Jane plopped herself in Theo’s lap. Theo rolled her eyes fondly, but didn’t move her.

The trio watched people dance the way you only could in a place like this, where inhibitions seemed to cease to exist. Dan was watching a couple, wondering if they were actually allowed to be that close, when someone walked over.

“Took me a while, but I got drinks!” the stranger announced, holding up three glasses triumphantly. He was tall, at least as tall as Dan was, and had the kind of pretty blue eyes cheesy country songs got written about.

“You’re literally our savior. Thanks Phil,” Jane said, taking a glass. So that was his name.

“No problem. Who’s your friend?” he wondered, taking notice of Dan the first time. Was it normal for strangers to maintain eye contact this long? Dan had no idea, but he wished he minded it more than he did.

“Oh! This is Dan, it’s his first night here,” Theo told him.

“Welcome, then. You chose the perfect night for your first time,” Phil said, far too nonchalantly for a sentence containing that amount of innuendo.

“He’s just saying that because Luna’s performing,” Jane explained, noting the confused look on Dan’s face.

“You’re a fan of Luna too then?” he asked, turning to Pihl.

“You could say that,” he replied, then nodded towards the bar, “Wanna come get a drink?”

“Anything to get me out of third wheeling these two,” Dan agreed standing up.

“Hey!” Theo protested, but she was already turning Jane around in her lap. Dan rolled his eyes fondly and got up to follow Phil to the bar. Theo and Jane deserved time to themselves, and this was one of the few places they got to be completely themselves.

“How long have you known Jane and Theo?” Dan asked once they’d sat down and ordered their drinks.

“A few years now. Theo and I went to school together- I helped her start a petition for gender inclusive housing on campus,” Phil explained.

“I remember that! That was right when her and Jane just met, too. She was literally all Jane talked about for months,” Dan replied, laughing at the memory of how enamored his friend had been. Conversation between the two of them flowed easily after that, moving from mutual interests, to multiverse theory, to aliens.

“So you don’t believe in ghosts but you believe in aliens?” Phil asked incredulously.  

“If ghosts were real, we would have proof by now. Besides, the universe is huge, there’s no way there’s nothing else out there,” Dan argued.

“I agree with you, I just can’t believe that’s the only thing you believe in.”

“I believe in lots of things. With proof.” Phil laughed and shook his head.

“No faith,” he said, looking down at his phone and jumping up, “I’ve gotta go.”

“Oh! Sorry, I didn’t mean to keep you,” Dan apologized quickly.

“No need to apologize. This has been the highlight of my night. We’ll talk later?” Phil offered, already backing away. Dan just nodded, more confused than ever. He watched Phil for a minute longer than he probably should have before going to find his friends.

“Hey! You two looked pretty chummy over there,” Jane teased when she saw him.

“You think? I mean, we talked. A lot. About everything. But then he just ran off. I don’t know…” he trailed off unsurely.

“The show’s about to start!” Theo exclaimed.

“What does that have to do wi-?” Dan started to ask, but Jane and Theo were already scrambling up excitedly. He sighed and followed them to the stage. Apparently he just wasn’t meant to get clear answers tonight.

“Ladies, gentlemen, and otherwise, are you ready to have a good time?” A voice boomed over the loud speakers. The crowd cheered, and the energy of the club was transformed. The lights dimmed, and Dan could feel the anticipation radiating from everyone around them.

A gorgeous drag queen appeared on stage, smiling at the audience warmly. She was wearing a red sequined dress with matching stilettos and a shoulder length Marilyn Monroe style wig that had been dyed black.

“For the few of you who don’t know, I’m Luna, and it’s my job to entertain you tonight. How does that sound?” she asked. From the responding cheer, the audience must have loved the sound of that.

The music started, and Dan felt himself completely captivated. Luna embodied every song she performed, the music flowing through her effortlessly. He couldn’t look away, even if he wanted to. He really, really did not want to. During her last song, Luna walked into the audience, dancing with everyone. When she got to Dan, she winked mischievously before dancing away, and realization dawned on him. He’d only ever seen those eyes once before.

“Jane! Was that-?” he shouted over the music, but Jane just smirked and turned her attention back to the stage.

The audience was so excited, Luna ended up performing two more songs, before making a joke about not being able to stay in those heels any longer, and curtseying to deafening applause.

“Told you she was amazing,” Theo said, as the audience dispersed, to either go back to dancing to get drinks.

“You did,” Dan agreed as they made their way back to the bean bag chairs they’d been sitting in earlier. They sat and talked for a while, but it was clear their energy was starting to fade. The pleasant buzz Dan had been feeling from the few drinks he’d had had worn off, leaving him fuzzy headed and drowsy. He was going to suggest sharing a cab, when Phil walked over, looking tired but pleased.

“Did you guys enjoy the show?” he asked grinning.

“I loved it- Luna’s a very talented performer,” Dan replied, searching Phil’s face for any trace of makeup. He found it in the little bit of glitter that was still there. He reached up to wipe it off and smiled. So he was right.

“Thank you,” Phil answered

“You guys are grossing us out. Go, dance!” Theo instructed, shoving them towards the dance floor.

“I’m, um, not much of a dancer,” Dan admitted shyly.

“Me either,” Phil replied shrugging, “But that’s okay.”

“There is very strong evidence to suggest otherwise,” Dan pointed out. Phil just laughed and wrapped his arms around his waist.

“Luna is a dancer. And all of her dances are choreographed,” he explained.

“Didn’t look very choreographed when she was dancing with everyone,” Dan pointed out

“Jealous?”

“Maybe.” Silence fell between them then, the only sound being the music surrounding them. They swayed, arms around each other, and shared a smile. They were definitely off beat, and probably looked a little ridiculous, but all they really cared about was the person in front of them.

“I should go,” Dan finally said a few songs later. It was going on 3 AM, and he wanted to make sure Theo and Jane got home safe.

“Do you have to?” Phil asked, burying his face and his neck, and oh. That was not fair at all.

“You, could um… Come with me?” Dan said, not sure exactly what he was suggesting, but turning red all the same.

“Do you want me to?” Phil asked, searching his face for any sign of hesitation. Dan nodded quickly- he was completely sure about this, if a little nervous.

They shared a cab with Theo and Jane, who gave them a knowing look before getting out at their stop. The ride home is silent, anticipation thick in the air between them.

“Hey, you okay?” Phil asked once they were out of the cab.

“Yeah, of course. Nervous, I guess? But in a good way,” Dan attempted to explain.

“Good. Just so you know, we don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do. All you have to do is tell me and we can just, I don’t know, sit on the couch and play video games. Okay?” Dan nodded, feeling instantly more at ease.

“Okay.”

And they did sit and play video games. But they also kept talking, learning more and more about each other. So by the time Dan asked Phil’s permission to kiss him, it felt like the most natural thing in the world. And so did every kiss, touch, and noise afterwards. And waking up together in the morning, not sure exactly where this would go, but both more than ready to find out.

[feralbangtan]

Paranoid: Part 5

Member: Jeon Jungkook Genre: Angst AU: Witch/Soulmate Warnings: Blood and death Word count: 2.3k Series Masterlist

It’s been about a week since Jungkook and I started staying with Taehyung, they have gotten along fine, which I found surprising, mainly due to the fact that well Taehyung is my brother and Jungkook is now my boyfriend instead of just my house mate. Being with him didn’t make him any less awkward than he normally was, in fact he got more awkward, but in a cute way. We spent the last week spying on Jimin as well, and we had enough proof that he was in fact working with Syndicate, Tae was getting everything set up for his conviction, but since he would be executed in the end of it all it was taking longer than normal and it was only just today that his notice was sent out. It kind of scared me when it came to busting Jimin, but it also made me sad, I thought Jimin was my best friend, but finding all of this out changed my mind, I haven’t talked to him since the mall incident, I’ve ignored all his calls and texts, he has to be getting suspicious by now, this long without talking is absurd. Currently Jungkook, Tae and I are sitting on the couch playing board games, Jungkook was cheating at half of them, I didn’t care that much, but Taehyung takes his games seriously and has been calling him out after everything he did, we were taking a small break from the games, so I took the opportunity to go to the bathroom and leave the boys to argue about cheating at the games, but when I got in there and did my business it got way too quiet and it wasn’t just that they were being quiet, there would still be noises because Taehyung basically never shuts up, this was an eerie kind of quiet, something was wrong. When I finished I grabbed the curtains and the curtain rod down from the window. I stripped the curtains off the rod and put them in the bathtub, I kept the rod to use as a weapon because I was sure something was wrong, I didn’t hear Tae sniggering over the fact that I was going to be scared, I didn’t hear Jungkook agreeing with him. When I walked out there was a true sight to see, Jungkook was on the floor face first, Jimin had Jungkook’s hand pulled behind his back, Taehyung was still standing, but he had his arm pulled behind him by a man that I recognized as Yoongi, he had his hand over Taehyung’s mouth. I hid in the hallway to prevent myself from being spotted by the others.

“Where is she?” Jimin asked angrily.

“I don’t know, she left this morning- ouch!” Jungkook started before Jimin pulled Jungkook’s further.

“Bullshit, she’s here, I can smell more sulfur, now where is she?” A booming voice asked.

“Ah gross, he licked my hand!” Another screamed.

I had to hold in my laughter because Taehyung finally learned something from me.

“Deal with it bitch.” Taehyung said.

Okay he needs to watch his mouth; they might just kill him there. I peeked out to see if I would be seen if I move, there was one right by the entrance to the hallway, he wouldn’t be able to see me. The others would only be able to see me if they looked over in my direction, it was then I pulled something very stupid. I switched sides, I went to the ran out and hit the one that I knew as Hoseok with the curtain rod. It staggered him momentarily, but before I could try to hit him again he put me in the same positon as Taehyung.

“There’s the little princess we’ve been looking for.”

Hoseok took his hand off my mouth because he remembered the last time he did it; it wasn’t fun for him.

“Oh look it’s a prick named Namjoon.” I retorted.

“Put your hand over her mouth, what are you doing?” Namjoon asked angrily.

“No, she’s the reason I’m missing my middle finger on this hand.” Hoseok said.

“How’s life without that by the way?” I asked in a smart ass tone.

“If you won’t, then hand her over.” Namjoon sighed angrily.

Hoseok pushed me off of him and I landed on the floor because of the sudden push. Namjoon picked me up by my arm and put me in the same position again, but with his hand over my mouth, and you better believe I was going to try to bite his god damned finger off.

“See I’m fine, she’s angry, but she’s not going to hurt me.” Namjoon said in a somewhat creepy way.

Jungkook saw the look in my eyes, and smirked a bit.

“What’s so funny ass wipe?” Jimin asked.

“Just watch.” Jungkook sniggered.

That’s when I bit down on Namjoon’s pinky and because of powers I severed it from his hand.

“You fucking bitch!” Namjoon screamed in pain.

I was shoved to the floor by Namjoon so he could go find something to cover his bleeding hand.

“I told you she bites dude!” Hoseok exclaimed.

“Shut up, Jimin, get us back to headquarters, we’ve got some bitches to burn.” Namjoon said as he wrapped a washcloth around his hand.

Yoongi walked over to me and picked me up, they linked arms with each other and Jimin smoked us to Syndicate’s headquarters. It was just as I remembered, dark and prison like. The men lead us to one large cell, the ones holding us throw us into the cell, Yoongi stays in there to handcuff us to the wall, when the shackles were on I knew we the end was near. The door to the cell was slammed and locked as Yoongi walked away. Jimin and Yoongi sat on crates in front of the cell and they started talking to each other, but because I’m mouthy, I decided it was a good idea to bitch out Jimin.

“You know Jimin, you must have been born on the highway because that’s where most accidents happen.”

“Excuse me?” Jimin asked.

“You heard me bitch tits.” I said.

“Well Y/N, I think you need to go check up on eBay and see if they have a life for sale.” He retorted.

“Says the man who was supposed to be my best friend, says the man who has worked at a fucking café for seven years because he thought it was cute, says the man who hit his face on the toilet as an adult because the same man forgot to clean up his water mess from his bubble bath with a gigantic rubber duck.”

“You said you wouldn’t say anything about that!” Jimin exclaimed angrily.

“Oh it’s coming out now, you ratted me out, time to rat you out. Karmas a bitch isn’t Jimin?” I asked cockily.

Jimin huffed and stopped listening to me rant and rave at him, I eventually stopped after I ran out of dirt to spill on Jimin. Both Jungkook and Taehyung learned a lot about Jimin in a span of 15 minutes. I was almost surprised that Yoongi didn’t tell me to shut up, but I’, sure it entertained him as well because I caught him laughing a few times. We sat there for hours, Taehyung fell asleep when Hoseok replaced Yoongi’s spot, and because I can’t stay still my shackles had cut into my wrists and there was dried blood all down my arms, it obviously hurt because I had open wounds, but what made it worse was Jungkook accidentally bumping into me while simultaneously trying to break out of his shackles, his arms are looking worse than mine at this point. There was more sitting around after that, but both Jungkook and I were too exhausted to even try to break out of the shackles anymore, we wasted our energy on trying to break free. Right when I was about to fall asleep the cell door was opened and my hands were released from the shackles. I looked up to see who it was, I recognized him. Jungkook only knew him as the guy who caught us when we first started spying on Jimin, but he was Jin. He was the nicest one of the bunch, he had his moments, he could be scary at times, mainly when he’s angry or in a killing mood, but other times he was nice, he’d actually talk to me, well at least that’s what he was like last time. Jin had laid me down on the floor and he had a bucket and a clean white washcloth in hand. He got down on his knees and started cleaning my arms up.

“Hello again Jin.” I said tiredly.

“I knew it was you the other day, you’re lucky I like you and didn’t rat you out before your little raven friend.” He said.

“I figured you did.” I said.

“So who’s the kid that Jimin was pinning to the floor?” He asked as he started wrapping my arms up in bandages.

“Since I know how this works and that I’ll most likely be dead tomorrow, he’s Jungkook, he’s my boyfriend.” I answered.

“As in Jeon Jungkook, the Jeon Jungkook, the same one who has witch hunter parents, and was going to become a witch hunter before he disappeared off the face of the fucking Earth?” Jin asked with a laugh.

“What?” I asked.

“If he’s your boyfriend, was he using you to kill you?” Jin asked.

“No, I got turned into a witch, you can shut the fuck up Jin.” Jungkook said angrily.

I went silent and rolled over on to my side, I didn’t want to look at Jungkook, I couldn’t believe he was going to be a witch hunter.

“Would you look at that, she’s mad at you, beautiful.” Jin said.

Jin cleaned up Jungkook’s arms even though the entire time he was helping he was slandering Jungkook. I rolled over suddenly to look at Jungkook.

“Were you using Yuri to kill her?” I asked.

“There’s no point in lying, yes, I was, I didn’t think she would turn me into a god damned witch.” He said.

“You lied to me.” I said slowly.

“I didn’t.” Jungkook said.

“You said you didn’t know she was a witch, you lied.” I said angrily.

“Did you ever think I didn’t want to scare you, you were a nice person who was taking me in and how was I supposed to tell you that I was going to be a witch hunter, how was I going to tell you I was going to kill a witch?” He exclaimed.

“I wouldn’t have cared if you told me the truth, I don’t think you realize that I’m not afraid of anything, I wouldn’t have been afraid of you, I would have understood you better when we met, do you realize how much easier this would have been on all of us?” I asked.

I had tears streaming down my face at this point, and Jungkook was trying to get himself near me to really talk to me, but I wouldn’t allow it, I ended up hiding behind Tae after Jin got him down. Taehyung had woken up just before Jungkook and I started fighting, he heard everything that was said between us.

“You two need some time to think. Jungkook, go sit in the corner over there. Y/N, you just stay here, you’ll be fine here.” Taehyung said.

“Oh come on it was getting good!” Jin whined.

“Jin, shut the fuck up.” I said angrily.

Jin scoffed and walked out of the cell. Namjoon was now on watch with Jimin, he was facing us and he beckoned me to get closer.

“I’m not getting closer to you, and I wouldn’t recommend you get closer to me, especially if you don’t want to lose another finger.” I said as I crossed my arms.

“Fine we’ll talk from here. Little girl-.” He said before I cut him off.

“Namjoon, don’t call me that, you’re not my boyfriend, I may be mad at Jungkook right now, but that doesn’t make it okay for you to start using pet names with me.” I said.

“Whatever. I’m just putting this out there, you’re definitely not coming back this time.” Namjoon said.

“What makes you say that, I don’t know if you remember, but we can reincarnate dumbass.” I said.

“Oh I know this; I’m just going to make sure you don’t come back this time.” He answered with a smirk.

I just scoffed and laid down on the floor and let some of my anger go away. I knew that Taehyung had brought Jungkook over to me, and I felt how awkward Jungkook was about trying to comfort me, and he was profusely apologizing to me mentally, I mean I ended up forgiving him because now isn’t really the time to be angry with him. We were quiet for a while, but I caught attention to Namjoon and Jimin’s conversation.

“Namjoon, I’d like to thank you for protecting me during this, I’m glad I could help you.” Jimin said sweetly.

“Oh yeah, about that.” Namjoon said.

Jimin looked up in confusion before Namjoon pushed him to the floor, I don’t think I’ve seen Jimin so scared before. I moved a bit to see what happened to him, and it seemed to have caught Jungkook’s attention too.

“It’s been nice knowing you Jimin.” Namjoon said with a dark chuckle.

Namjoon put some sort of liquid on Jimin and the next thing I knew, Jimin was on fire. He was screaming in pain, even though he did sell us out I felt bad about it, it left me shook up, I was clinging on to Jungkook in fear. Jungkook just blocked my sight and kept kissing the crown of my head until Jimin stopped screaming, he didn’t even stop after that, he stroked my hair and rubbed my back until I fell asleep, he was making up to me one last time before D-Day.

[sp00nful0fsuga-blog]

I Remember You

Your first fan meeting, your first interaction with your favourite idol, Jungkook. Things seem to be going well until you realize that ... Jungkook remembers you? 

[I deleted my account accidentally which meant all my work is unfortunately gone :( Uploading again but I hope you’ll still give me all the love! :) ]

“Y/N! Hurry up! We’re gonna be late if you keep walking this slowly. Even my grandma is faster than you!” your friend’s voice boomed from a distance & you turned around dazed.

Who could she blame? It was your first time in South Korea & everything was just so foreign yet beautiful to you that you couldn’t just walk away without taking pictures of everything. The buildings, the streets, the people - it was simply breathtaking.

“There are more beautiful creatures that you take pictures of later, Y/N,” your friend lamented & you turned to give her a smirk. She was right. Both of you were on the way to BTS’s fanmeeting, this being the first for you while it was probably the 100th time your friend had gone to one of these. In fact, you were going to not one but two of BTS’s fan meetings, although the former was the one at Seoul that you were going to now while the latter would be at Busan a few days later. It was fascinating really - your first time being in Seoul, your first time meeting your favorite group.

You were particularly excited to meet your ultimate bias - Jungkook. You had been an avid fan of him since Bangtan debuted, and you couldn’t wait to finally meet your rolemodel. He was the epitome of perfection: blessed with good looks, being talented in both singing and dancing, working hard to chase after his dreams. By now you didn’t even know whether you wanted to be him or be with him.

Before you knew it, both of you had reached the fanmeeting venue. The place was booming with fangirls with cameras ranging from small cute polaroids to huge DSLRs that could have been listed as possible weapons. It was somewhat of an organized mess - security guards were around to manage the place in case the crowd got too rowdy. The atmosphere was hyped as everyone waited patiently for the arrival of BTS.

Screams boomed throughout the entire hall as the 7 boys emerged from backstage. All of them were clad in casual clothing, smiling and waving at the crowd. Everyone was going crazy - you, on the other hand, was trying not to get stepped on by the various high heels around you and risk losing a toe. The crowd eventually settled down and the fanmeeting began. There were quite a few fans in front of you in line, and so you and your friend decided to kill time by staring at the members.

You were especially mesmerized with Jungkook. He was wearing a simple white tee and denim blue jeans but it only made him look even more attractive. His arm muscles were bulging, providing a huge contrast to his baby face. You sighed as you stared at him. You were a fan of BTS ever since they debuted, and Jungkook had come a long way from the goggly-eyed boy to a mature man.

After a whole half an hour of waiting, it was finally your turn. You went to Taehyung, the first member from the left as he greeted you with a huge grin on his face and an excited wave. You smiled nervously as you stuttered to form a sentence in Korean.

“Ah, you are foreigner?”

“Yeah …”

“It’s okay, I like foreigners!”

You giggled as Taehyung opened his arms out widely, signifying that he “likes everyone in the whole world”. He signed the album in your hand and made small talk, asking you for your age and how many days you were planning to stay in Seoul.

The member following Taehyung was Namjoon. It was easier to communicate with him: he knew immediately that you were a foreigner from your broken Korean, switching to English so that he could converse with you.

Time really passed when you were having fun, because before you knew it, you were finally meeting the one reason you flew all the way to Seoul for. Jungkook merely sat there and smiled, expecting you to start screaming or talking really fast like all the other fangirls that he met. Instead, you just stared at him, getting lost in his eyes.

“만나서 반갑습니다!” Jungkook chimed, trying to break the ice.

You smiled at him nervously as you tried to form a reply.

“She’s a foreigner,” Namjoon whispered to Jungkook, sensing the tension from the side.

“Ah … er … nice to meet you?” Jungkook said, ending his sentence on a high note, making it sound like a question instead of a statement.

“I can understand you,” you smiled.

It was true. The countless years of watching Korean dramas and following the Hallyu wave meant that you could understand Korean, even though you couldn’t speak the language.

“Who’s your favorite BTS member?” Jungkook asked.

You bit your lips shyly before lifting up your hand and pointing straight at him.

“You.”

You’ve always dreamt of this moment: being able to meet your bias, your role model. The only thing you didn’t think of was what you were going to say to him when you actually meet him. The both of you laughed awkwardly as you tried to think of something, anything to say to him. You knew the 3 minutes were going to feel like forever if you kept this up when you suddenly remembered something.

A gift! You had a gift for him! How could you even forget? You scrambled through your bag, looking back at a very confused Jungkook and smiling at him to dissipate the awkwardness. You grinned as your hands came into contact with the box.

Putting it on the table in front of Jungkook, you breathed in heavily as Jungkook slowly opened the box.

“Oh?” he looked up at you, his smile glistening in the same way as the ring in front of him. He took the ring out from the box and put it on his left hand. You heaved a sigh of relief, watching the ring slide down his slender finger in a sleek motion. You had taken one of your close guy friends as a guide, not knowing the size of Jungkook’s finger.

“You like it?” you asked, smiling as he turned his hand around repeatedly to admire it from all directions.

“Yeah, high five!” the boy took your hand and forced a high five, intertwining his fingers around yours when he halted at the sight.

“What?”

“Oh … It’s couple ring!”

You brought your hand away from him in a hurry and hid it behind your back. He wasn’t supposed to know that you too had a ring, the same design and colour as his. It was a lame secret you wanted to keep all to yourself: you know, having the same ring as your bias. “우리는 영원히 함께 - I mean, forever … forever, er … forever together!” Jungkook said with a laugh, as you looked away, trying to control your beating heart whilst knowing that your cheeks were burning in a bright red shade.

“Okay next! Next! Next!” Jimin called out to you, grabbing your sleeve to try pulling you closer as aegyo gushed from his face. You smiled at Jungkook, thanking him hurriedly for a great time before Jimin started to throw a tantrum.

The rest of the session was a blur. Your mind was transfixed on the things you could have said to Jungkook, on how you had wasted 3 minutes staring at him and acting dumb. You felt someone staring at you and looked up suddenly, making eye contact with Jungkook. He looked down in a hurry and you cringed and squeezed your eyes shut in frustration. He probably thought you weren’t a true fan.

All your friends thought the same. Those who were crazed fans of BTS were the kind who would scream whenever their oppas would come on stage, raving at their chocolate abs and handsome faces. But you were different. You had liked BTS from the beginning solely for their music: their looks were just a bonus. Heck you would still listen to Jungkook sing even if his head was in a paper bag and his body covered in mud. His look was insignificant to the music that came out of his mouth.

The fanmeeting went by in a flash and it was soon time to pack up. The 7 members bowed to the crowd as Namjoon said one last speech to wrap things up, thanking everyone who came down to support them and promising to make better music in the future. The stampede of fangirls engulfed you and you were roughly pushed all the way to the back, your friend suffering the same fate as you.

“It’s alright, Y/N,” your friend said, brushing off the non-existent dust from her shoulder, “We’ll see them again in Busan! In 2 days!”

You smiled and nodded at her. As the both of you walked off to the exit, you turning back one last time to see Jungkook.

By then, he was already gone.

You thought the 2 days were going to be hell, but heck were you wrong. There were so many things to do in Seoul, so many places to go to, so much food to eat. You even wanted to stay in Seoul for a little longer but you knew you had to get to Busan eventually. Seeing Jungkook would be an even better gift as compared to spending a few more days in Seoul.

The day had finally came. The both of you alighted from the train station and you caught your breath before taking a look at the beautiful scenery. It was truly breathtaking, and you were amazed at how different the sight could be when both cities were in the same country. The two of you took the bus to the fanmeeting venue. The crowd wasn’t as big as it was in Seoul, but the atmosphere was just as hyped. The fanmeeting had already started before the both of you arrived, and you hurried to join the queue. Fewer people meant a shorter waiting time and before you knew it, it was already your turn.

You cringed when you saw that the first member you would be meeting would be Jungkook as flashbacks of your previous encounter came crashing back into your head. You slowly made your way towards him, flashing him the same nervous grin that you had a few days back. Jungkook rolled his head backwards to get his hair out of the way and smiled at you.

“Hello! … Oh!”. You looked up to see Jungkook pointed his index finger at you in awe.

“I remember you!”

“You do?” you replied in shock. It wouldn’t be surprising for him to figure out that you looked different from the rest of the Korean girls around, but remembering you was on a whole other level. And you had reached that damn level.

“Yes! Couple ring!”, Jungkook held his hand up, and you covered your mouth in surprise as the twinkling ring winked at you.

“Oh my God, thank you! Thank you! You don’t know how much this means to me!”, you squealed and  smiled gleefully. You’ve heard stories of idols abandoning fans’ gifts or giving it away to someone else instead. It was an honour indeed, to see Jungkook proudly wearing that (fortunately) fitting ring.

The rest of the time was spent on both of you thanking each other: Jungkook thanking you for making it for both fan meetings while you shook your head furiously & thanked him for his existence. By the end of your interaction with him, you felt thankful to have gone for this fanmeeting, finally being able to talk comfortably with Jungkook before going back home.

“Thank you so much, I’ll see you in a few years when I come back to Korea!” you said as you waved enthusiastically.

“Promise? Pinky promise me,” the boy shot his hand up in front of you and you happily sealed your promise.

The rest of the members were equally energetic that day, with Namjoon even remembering you as well. By the end of your interactions with all of BTS, you were flushed out and exhausted, your jaw hurting from the extensive smiling and laughing. You joined your friend among the crowd of people who were done with their turn and were spending their time staring at God’s seven perfections.

“Okay … I may be going crazy but …”, your friend turned her head slowly towards you, even though her eyes were still peeled to the front.

“What?”

“Well, based on my intensive inspection for the past 30 seconds, it seems like Jungkook has been staring at you.”

“What?”

You looked forward at Jungkook’s direction and your eyes widened. It was true. It seemed true. You weren’t sure if he was looking at you, but he was definitely staring at your direction. For a second there, even if it was for a split second there, you could have sworn that both of you made eye contact. However, before you knew it, he had stopped looking at your direction, and was busy giving autographs and smiles to others.

A thought flitted through your head and you sighed. What were you even thinking? That you were a special fan? Someone that Jungkook would remember? He was someone who travelled around the world constantly, meeting millions and millions of fans - what made you think that your interaction would even be significant to him? You laughed at the absurdity of the situation, covering your mouth embarrassingly as you realized the numerous eyes around you staring at your sudden outburst.

The organiser clapped his hands to get the attention of the crowd and announced that the second segment of the fanmeeting would begin. You turned to your friend as both of you squealed in excitement. This was a very big part of the reason why you decided to go for Busan’s fanmeeting as well - a photo-taking session. Unfortunately, the large number of fans meant that individual photos was impossible, and you had no choice but to join a group of strangers to wait for your turn.

Being the seventh group in line meant that it was your turn in no time. You squeezed yourself at the side of the photo, looking longingly at the fangirls that were flocking around Jungkook. Being in a photo with him was more than enough for you, and you tried to pacify yourself and pose for the picture. As soon as the photo was about to be taken, you felt an arm around your shoulder and looked up to meet eyes with Jungkook. The snap from the shot startled you, and you realized your shocked expression would be plastered on all the photos that the fans would take back home.

“Jungkook!” was the only thing you managed to sputter out as the boy grinned, obviously satisfied with your response.

“You flew all the way to Korea … you have to make your money worth!”

The photographer snapped his finger in annoyance, signalling our departure from the photo frame and you away from Jungkook’s arms. Jungkook turned to give you a wink as you tried to control your flaming cheeks. You could feel the other girls around you staring and pointing fingers, some of them lamenting about how jealous they were while others whispered about how unfair it was.

You didn’t care. Your hands were shaking from the realization that Jungkook knew you, Jungkook remembered you, Jungkook could pick you from the crowd. That moment felt like a dream, and you kept playing it on rewind in your head like a broken record, all the way until the photo-taking session had ended.

The grand finale of the fanmeeting event was finally here. All the fans present were each given a ticket with some number on it. The boys would eventually pick out 3 lucky winners to have dinner with them that night. Could you believe it? A dinner with not just one BTS member, but all seven of them!

With one hand over the other, you prayed hard as Namjoon stepped up onto the stage and in front of the lucky draw bowl. Your eyes started getting hypnotized as he swirled his finger around all the tickets before elegantly swiping down to pick one out.

“212! Number 212!”

Shoulders dropped in disappointment as fans checked and rechecked their numbers to see whether they were the lucky fan chosen. You didn’t even bother looking at your ticket - your number started with a 1.

You smiled as you thought about how blessed the lucky fan must have been feeling at that moment when Namjoon called out the second number.

“274!”

You let out a sigh subconsciously as an excited fan squealed and pranced around the room.

“And the last person having dinner with us is …”

“101!”

You stopped dead in your tracks.

You remembered joking to your friend that both of you would have made it into the first 100 if you had just quickened your steps earlier.

Peeking at your ticket, you slowly uncovered one number at a time.

1 …

0 …

2.

102.

Your number was 102.

That could only mean one thing. You looked at your friend to see her staring at her ticket with a look of shock and excitement, the number “1” on her ticket glistening like it was mocking you.

“Y/N!! I got it I got it I got it!”, your friend squealed.

You were truly happy for her, your smile proving your emotions as you gave her a big hug. A tinge of regret and sadness filled you up but you pushed it aside - you were never good at luck anyway.

“With that, this is the end of the fanmeeting. The 3 winners, please come to the front of the stage to be briefed about the dinner later,” a staff announced in a monotonous tone.

Even though the fanmeeting was over, few left the hall and instead chose to hang out to see the boys. Your friend let go of your hand to walk to the front of the crowd, looking back with a guilty expression as she bit her lips. You mouth at her to walk faster, giving a reassuring smile to let her know that it was alright.

That’s when you made eye contact with Jungkook. It was clear to you now that he wasn’t just staring at your direction, he was staring at you. Awkwardness engulfed you as you shifted eyes nervously, giving small glances every now & then to see if he was still looking at you. He was.

Meanwhile, on Jungkook’s side, he has come to realize that your friend was one of the 3 fans chosen. He looked at you giving a fragile smile to your friend, knowing that it probably felt horrible to know that you could have been one of the lucky fans.

An idea sprung up to Jungkook’s  head, and he made his way hurriedly to his manager.

“Jungkook-ah, what are you doing?” Jin asked out of curiosity, but all he got was silence.

Fans started getting frenzied at Jungkook’s sudden movement. Murmurs and hushes spread across the hall as Jungkook cupped his manager’s ear to whisper something to him. The manager looked at him in surprise, then confusion, but proceeded to stop the event manager halfway while he was briefing the three fans. A huddle among the managers and the seven boys led to a lot of buzz among the fans.

“They’re probably gonna cancel the dinner,” you overheard a fan commenting in Korean to her friends. You looked back to the huddled group in front, silently hoping that your friend would still be able to meet the boys and have fun.

After a minute of discussion, the event manager turned around to face the wild crowd.

“We understand that most of you have come to this fanmeeting with your friends, and we thought it would be appropriate for us to extend the invitation & allow these 3 fans to bring a friend along to the dinner.”

Despite being metres apart, both you and your friend locked eyes instantly as a smile crept to your face and you cupped your hands over your mouth in disbelief.

But what you didn’t notice was Jungkook smiling at you.

The briefing was simple. The fans were not allowed to announce the location of the restaurant on any social media platforms whatsoever and a consent letter was signed to seal it. Photographs with the group could be taken but they could only be released or uploaded one day after the dinner.

You rubbed your hands nervously and exhaled deeply. Both you and your friend were now seated in a designated car, on the way to the best moment of your life. You had gone back home to change into a comfortable tee and jeans to hide the food baby. Heck, even if your favourite idols were there, you were still going to eat to your heart’s content. After all, your favorite food was free.

You finally arrived at the restaurant, which was a quaint little traditional place that smelled divine even from the outside. You entered the place gingerly, taking small steps until you came face-to-face with all 7 boys.

“Hi everyone!” you greeted nervously, amazed at yourself for even managing to say a word.

Your friend, in the meantime, was too busy staring at Hoseok, her bias, to even form any type of greeting and you all prepared to sit down with the rest of them. Most of the fans were present - in fact, the both of you were probably the last, reaching the place at the designated timing. Both of you didn’t even think about the fact that arriving earlier meant more interaction time with BTS.

It was finally dinner time!

You sat down at a seat the corner as your friend automatically beelined to the opposite side of the table where Hoseok was going to sit. Someone was towering over you, and you looked up to see Jin. He was about to cross his legs to sit at the space next to you when a slight push landed him on the empty spot at the left.

“Sorry, this is my seat,” Jungkook said plainly, sitting down hurriedly.

Jin looked at the maknae with a look of surprise, faking a loud scoff as he put both his hands on his hips.

“Really, do you have your name tag on it?”

You laughed at Jin’s retort, earning a grin from him & a high five. He was obviously satisfied with the reaction.

“You’re the only one who likes my jokes … I think we can be great friends, Y/N.” Jin winked at you and you faked embarrassment and face-palmed. The other members laughed in unison at your reaction as Jin clutched his heart in pain.

“I can move over to the next seat if you want,” you said, realizing that Jin was still standing & Jungkook didn’t look like he had any idea of moving. You began to shift your weight over to the other side, only to stopped by Jungkook as he pushed your shoulder down.

“No, you’re staying here. Hyung, go sit somewhere else pleaseeeee,” Jungkook pouted at the eldest, who sighed heavily and walked to the other side of the table. Your cheeks flushed as you realized Jungkook’s hand was still on your shoulder and you looked away instantly. Jungkook probably sensed your discomfort as he quickly removed his hand and brushed it off with a quick smile.

The rest of the dinner was spent laughing at Jin’s dad jokes, Jimin’s antics and Taehyung’s attempts to create “meaningful talk with Y/N”, according to him. Namjoon would occasionally cut in to translate what you were trying to say to the rest. Hoseok and Yoongi were way too far across the table for you to have any sort of interaction, although you suffered an embarrassing case of passing sugar to Yoongi instead of salt, earning a stare from the boy as the rest laughed at your awkwardness.

The dinner was splendid, but unfortunately, you couldn’t stay throughout. Your flight was in a few hours & you needed to get to the airport soon. If you had known that you would have scored a chance to eat with the seven boys, you would have just booked a flight for the next day. The distance between the airport and the restaurant was relatively far, and you knew there was a high chance of you missing your flight if you did not leave now. Your friend had agreed earlier to send you off to the airport, but you knew she was having such a great time talking to Hoseok that you couldn’t bear to ask her to tag along.

“Sorry guys, I have to go off now,” you announced to the group and the fans. Managing to explain using a bunch of hand gestures and broken Korean, along with some help from Namjoon, you said your words of thanks and greetings, feeling extremely sad to be leaving at such an unfortunate timing.

“How are you getting to the airport?” Jungkook asked.

“Taxi,” you replied, imitating the honking of a car, earning laughters from the entire group, including emotionless Yoongi.

“I can send you off to the airport if you want,” Jungkook stated again, and you looked at him in confusion, your legs frozen to the ground as you realized what he had just said.

“You can take my car,” Jin said.

“But hyung, I can’t drive.”

“I know, who said you would be the one driving?” Jin retorted, much to Jungkook’s dismay.

The quick conversation between the two boys had ended by the time you managed to understand everything they were saying. You didn’t even have the time to reject their offer.

“Wait here,” Jin tapped your shoulder and smiled as Jin and Jungkook went off to another room.

The both of them returned a few moments later, and you laughed at the sight of both the eldest and the maknae, decked in full camouflage mode: a hat, a jacket, a mask. You had forgotten how crazy it would be if people recognised them outside.

Giving a final goodbye to everyone else, you made your way out of the restaurant, the chilly night wind rushing towards you in full force. The three of you hurriedly ran to the car, Jin jogging in front to get to the vehicle ready first while Jungkook and you were behind carrying all your luggage along. The cold was just too much for you to bear, and you looked over to Jungkook. He was sniffing and pulling his jacket closer to him, his nose looking as red as a tomato. At that moment, you made eye contact with the boy for the umpteeth time but now the both of you laughed at your sorrowed state.

After a few minutes of walking, you finally reached the car and sighed as the heat from the seats comforted you. Jungkook immediately took off his jacket and leaned forward to wrap it around you. You stopped dead in your tracks, biting your lips in embarrassment. The heat from his body radiated towards you and you inhaled deeply.

Jungkook looked down at your expression, laughing as he pinched your nose.

“You should really become an actress. Your expressions are A+.”

The ride to the airport was smooth. Jin was busy whistling a tune and cutting cars, asking you numerous questions about your favourite songs, what you thought about their latest album. You gave your honest thoughts about them, earning a few “yes”s and “that’s right”s from Jungkook a couple of times. The two of you would look at each other when Jin wasn’t looking, and you would cup your mouth to and snickered as Jungkook tried to make you laugh with a variety of ugly expressions. You loved how comfortable the two of you had gotten. It seemed like you had known each other for years.

You were just comfortable basking in his presence.

“Y/N,” Jin suddenly called your name, making eye contact with you through the rear-view mirror.

“Why is Jungkook your favourite member?”

You were stunned at the sudden question, and you knew Jungkook felt the same too.

You’ve given it some thought before, but stating them out loud was a whole different thing. You looked over at Jungkook, and you could see from his eyes that he was waiting for your response.

“I don’t know … He’s just so hardworking & he puts in his best effort in everything he does. It’s just very admirable. Maybe it’s because we are similar in age but I’ve always felt so proud of him,” you said in one breath.

Jungkook stared at you for a few seconds, lost in the words that just came out of your mouth.

It was hard for him, sometimes, to continue striving for excellence, to not give up. Many fans would say that they liked him because he was handsome, he was cute, his body, and so on & so forth but not you.

You didn’t even talk about his physical features at all.

It was comforting to him, knowing that someone out there realized his effort and how much hard work he put in into everything.

You turned to see Jungkook staring at you, giving a huge smile to him while mouthing the words, “I mean it.”

And the next moment felt like magic.

Jungkook came forward and wrapped his arms around you, giving you a full deep hug before you even had time to respond.

“Thank you,” he whispered into your ear, patting your head before letting you go.

Your heart thumped in an irregular pattern as you lavished in his touch. You grinned at Jungkook sheepishly and moved away as Jin cleared his throat at the sight.

After a good 20 minutes, you had finally reached the airport. As soon as Seokjin had parked his car, Jungkook sprang out the door, grabbing your luggage and your hand.

“Hyung, I’ll just send her off. Wait in the car.”

“Ya, Jungkook-ah—”

Before Seokjin could even react, Jungkook slammed the back door shut and pulled you along. You attempted to make one final eye contact and waved at Seokjin through the tinted car windows. The automatic doors opened and you followed Jungkook. He walked straight ahead, not looking back once at you, his fingers still intertwined with yours.

Your steps got heavier as you got nearer to the entrance. Jungkook’s hand squeezed tighter as he turned around to glance at you a few times. The both of you came to a stop as you reached the entrance, and Jungkook turned around to stare straight at you.

“I’ll miss you,” the boy said.

“I’ll miss you too, Jungkook. It was really nice meeting all of you,” you smiled, feeling the warmth of his hand against yours.

“No, I miss you. As in, I miss you more than what you would think.”

Before you could comprehend what he had said, Jungkook moved forward slowly, planting a kiss on your forehead. You twitched as you felt him place something in your hand. Looking down at the crumpled piece of paper, you realize it was his contact details.

“I’ll remember you.”

Smiling back at him as you touched his hand, you replied with a nod.

Jungkook cupped his hands to your chin, lifting you up before finally saying,

“See you at our next fanmeeting? I’ll be waiting for you.”