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dis0rderly-cl0wn-nerd · 7 months ago

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Crack A Smile and Cut Your Mouth

Ledger!Joker Origin Story

Chapter Two - Feels Better In My Head

Warnings: Child abuse, domestic violence, alcoholism

Chapter Summary: Jack hates school and his father. Life sucks and nowhere feels truly safe. He desperately wants a way out...

Author’s Note: I finally got this done! It took me forever. I kept getting stuck towards the middle part. Also, I felt like the last chapter was way too short so this one is a little longer. Anyway I hope you enjoy! <3

Do you guys want a taglist for this series? I'd be happy to add you.

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Jack woke up the next morning to the smell of bacon frying. His mother always got up early to cook breakfast. That was his alarm clock.

He yawned and crawled out of bed to get dressed. He kept on the same black t-shirt and pulled on a pair of khaki green cargo pants. He glanced over at his backpack tossed carelessly on the floor next to his nightstand and groaned. He knew he should probably go to school today. He’d already missed so much this year and his mother would pester him about it if he didn’t.

Jack picked up the backpack and stuffed its contents that fell out back in. He grabbed his sketchbook and his Polaroid camera from his dresser and packed them as well. There was no telling when inspiration would strike. He zipped the bag shut and slung it over his shoulder.

Cautiously, Jack walked from his room into the kitchen just in case Scott was still home. Jacqueline noticed him out of the corner of her eye.

“It’s okay. He’s at work.��

Jack relaxed and sat down at the table. It was a sad fact that he felt the most at ease when his father wasn’t home. Jacqueline finished off the bacon and brought it over. Jack snagged a few pieces as she turned to the refrigerator to get something to drink. She returned to the table with a carton of orange juice and sat down next to her son.

“Please go to school today, Jack.” Jacqueline said as she poured him some orange juice.

“I will. But I have to leave early because Mike needs me in the shop today.” Jack told her as he gulped down the juice.

Jacqueline sighed and swept her frizzy blonde curls out of her face. “Okay. At least you’re getting some education today. I just wish you would apply yourself more.”

“I don’t need school, mama. It’s dumb. I’m never gonna use any of it in the real world.”

“It never hurt anybody to be educated,” she kissed his forehead, “Now get going or you’re gonna be late. I love you.”

“Love you too.” Jack replied through a mouthful of bacon as he grabbed his stuff and went out the door.

He climbed into his black pickup truck parked under the carport and started off to school. He mentally prepared himself as he drove. It had been three days since he last went. He was really enjoying the small break but his mom wanted him to go and he didn’t want to disappoint her.

Jack made it to the school and walked in, keeping his head down and avoiding people. He didn’t have any friends. There were a few acquaintances sure, but no one he really hung around or talked to regularly. He was a loner. On days he did attend the whole day, he spent the lunch period by himself and his breaks drawing in his sketchbook.

As depressing as it seemed, it didn’t bother him. He liked being alone.

Jack entered his homeroom and sat down at his desk in the back. He took out a pencil and the notebook he needed and sat them in front of him. This was his first period class, boring as usual. He had no interest in algebra. Too many formulas and confusing rules. So he did what he normally did and doodled in his math notebook instead of taking notes.

His next class, chemistry, was just as hard for him but slightly piqued his interest. Learning about different chemicals and how things worked fascinated him. Especially when they got to talk about radiation and explosions. But today was just bookwork and Jack was bored out of his mind.

Two more hours and I can get out of here…

The last class before lunch was English. Jack hated this subject. It was the most boring out of all his classes, his teacher was awful, and he wasn’t good at reading.

To pass the time, he actually did his work but it was half-assed. He really could care less about schoolwork. Some things he genuinely didn’t understand but he still could’ve put in a little more effort.

Finally, the lunch bell rang and Jack didn’t hesitate darting from the classroom to the parking lot. He made it back to his truck and left the school grounds in the dust, eager to get to work.

He loved his job. Mike was an awesome guy to work for. It didn’t pay much but it was a good first job. Jack helped out in Mike’s repair shop by sweeping, moving equipment, handing him parts, etc.

Jack arrived at the shop and parked out front. He walked around back to the garage where Mike usually was. Mike was a middle aged guy in his late 40s. He was bald, stout, and a little on the shorter side with a graying, bushy brown beard. He had become somewhat of a mentor to Jack over the years.

Today Mike was underneath a small red car fixing something. He noticed Jack and slid out, chuckling. “Aren’t you supposed to be in school?”

“I was but Mom said I could leave early for work.”

“Now why do I feel like that’s a half truth? Eh, it doesn't matter to me. It’s not my education you're screwing with.”

“Pfft. I don’t care about school. It’s so dumb. I probably learn more here than I do there.”

Mike shrugged. “I got some stuff for you to do. There’s a few boxes out front with the new tools in them. Move them back here and put them where they go. Then I need you to sweep around the garage. It’s getting filthy.”

Jack nodded and got right to work. He went back to the front and found the boxes sitting at the door. They were unopened and quite heavy but nothing Jack couldn’t lift. He brought them back to the garage and set them down next to the metal cabinets. After opening them, he put all the tools where they belonged and threw away the boxes. Then he grabbed a broom and started sweeping. Dust, dirt, debris, trash, leaves, etc. littered the concrete floors.

Man, I can’t even remember the last time I swept. This is disgusting. Jack thought as he tossed the dustpan on the floor and swept the pile of filth he created into the pan.

Mike’s radio played in the background and Jack nodded quietly along with the music. For over an hour he swept and swept until the floor was finally clean. He dumped the last pile into the trash and propped the broom against the wall, admiring his work. He knew having the shop clean and organized would help out Mike a lot.

Mike looked up from his work and laughed. “Done already? Well, I guess I could teach you how to put in a new transmission. Come here and I’ll show you.”

After an interesting lesson from Mike and a few more hours of odd jobs around the shop, it was time for Jack to go home. He glanced at his watch as he walked back to his truck. He was about to open the door when a glimmer of light caught his eye.

A brown glass bottle was laying in the ditch near the road. He paused for a moment, lost in thought. Suddenly a childhood memory hit him at full speed and there was no stopping it.

Crash!

Glass was sent everywhere as Jack tumbled to the floor. He clutched the back of his head, blood pooling into his hands. He burst into tears as any eight year old would in this terrifying situation. His mother, hearing the commotion, came running into the kitchen. She ignored her seething husband for once and knelt next to her son, peeling away his hands and accessing the wound.

Jaqueline whipped around to face the man responsible, unusually fearless. “Did you do this to him?!”

“Pshhh. So what if I did? The little brat deserved it.” The drunk slurred.

“He needs a hospital, Scott!”

“You ain’t taking him nowhere! He’ll live.” Scott bellowed.

Jacqueline huffed, picked up Jack, and whisked him away to the bathroom where she could treat the wound to the best of her ability. She took a washcloth and ran it under some warm water. Then she fanned out his curls surrounding the gash and cleaned it up with the washcloth. She wiped his bloody hands clean and picked what glass she could out of his hair and the wound. Jack whimpered in pain.

“Shhh. It’s okay, sunshine. It’s okay. Mama’s got this taken care of.” Jacqueline reassured him gently.

Once she got the wound clean, she bandaged it and carried Jack to his room. She put him to bed and kissed him goodnight. Jack’s memory of that night faded from there.

Jack blinked and brought himself back. He sighed and got in the driver’s seat. Before he went home, he wanted to ride around for a bit. He went straight through town and then took a few backroads. He ended up on the main road again out in the countryside. Nothing was out there except the forest and occasional billboards. His hometown truly was in the middle of nowhere.

A nice photo opportunity came up so Jack pulled over in a field nearby. There was a beautiful view of the sunset with the trees underneath. He fished his Polaroid out his backpack and hopped out of the truck. He lowered the tailgate and sat down, positioning his camera into the perfect place. When he got the shot he wanted, he set the camera down and laid back, gazing at the sky.

He wished he could stay here forever lost in his head instead of going home. He dreaded school and he dreaded his house. The only true safe place was going out alone. The streets were once again his safe haven.

Jack finally got a hold of himself and realized how much had passed. As much as he hated to, he really needed to get home. He put the tailgate up and climbed back in. The drive back home was the same as every other day yet he cringed at each familiar landmark he passed and every curve he rounded. Today he was feeling particularly uneasy about going home.

He turned down his street and pulled into his driveway, parking under the carport. His father wasn’t home yet.

Thank God.

As he walked up to the front porch, Jack noticed a pair of glowing yellow eyes underneath the deck. He smiled, knowing exactly who they belonged to.

“Luna, come on out girl. It’s okay.” He coaxed the creature.

A gray cat shimmied out from under the porch and stretched. She meowed and rubbed up against Jack's legs, purring contently.

The neighborhood Jack lived in had a lot of stray cats. He loved animals and they loved him. He enjoyed all the cats he came across but he had a special bond with Luna. She wasn’t technically his cat since she moved throughout the neighborhood but she always found her way back to his house at some point.

Jack reached into his backpack and produced a plastic bag filled with cat treats. He always kept some on him in case he ran into a stray. He grabbed two treats out and sat them down in front of Luna. She nibbled at them gratefully and meowed her thanks.

Jack pet her a few more times before walking up the stairs and entering the house. Jacqueline was in the kitchen washing dishes. Jack could smell dinner cooking. His mother turned around and her face lit up when she saw him.

“Hi sweetie! How was your day?”

“Eh, it was alright. School was pretty boring.”

“Ha. I figured you’d say that. Here, wash up and help me with the dishes.”

…

After Jack helped with washing the dishes and set up the table, the food was ready. Jacqueline took it out of the oven and placed it on the table. As soon as they sat down, Scott came stumbling through the door. The atmosphere in the house suddenly became tense and Jack could feel the temperature drop a few degrees.

“H-hi honey. Dinner’s ready.” Jacqueline said meekly.

Scott smirked. “Heh, you did something right for a change.”

He sat down across from his wife and fixed his plate. Once again Jack was stuck in the middle. He felt his blood boil at his father's haughty attitude. His mom worked so hard for her no good husband only to be treated like dirt.

“How was your day, son?”

“Fine.” Jack replied shortly. He was repulsed by that horrible man calling him son.

Scott nodded half heartedly and turned to Jacqueline. “I’m glad we didn’t have a repeat of last night, dear.”

Jacqueline just looked down timidly. How could he be so cruel? Jack couldn’t keep his mouth shut any longer.

“Last night would never have happened if you came home on time instead of going out drinking.”

Jacqueline's eyes widened in fear. She glanced at Jack, silently pleading with him to be quiet. It was too late. Scott stood up, knocking his chair over, and loomed over Jack.

“What was that, boy?”

Jack just stared back at him unafraid. Scott slapped him hard across the face and sent him to the floor. It all happened so fast, Jack could barely think. Before he knew it, Scott was kicking him in the side until his surge of rage subsided. Jack gasped as the wind was knocked out of him.

Finally Scott stopped and glared down at him angrily. “Don’t you ever question what I do with my time again! It’s none of your business.”

With that he sat down again and went back to eating, completely ignoring his beaten son lying on the floor. All Jack could do was lay there and cry silently. He couldn’t wait until he could finally get away from this hellhole. It would come at a cost but to him it was worth it.

#ledger joker #jack napier #the dark knight #heath ledger #nolanverse #cross posted on ao3 #my writing

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homerjacksons · 9 months ago

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Fluffy February - @fluffyfebruary Day 29: Fresh Word count: 2,264 Fandom: Ripper Street Pairing: Homer Jackson/Edmund Reid AO3

A/N: This turned into another long one (as far as drabbles go anyway). Fresh brought to mind a fresh start, a new beginning, and instantly made me think of post canon and all the potential there ignoring certain details. But it felt like a leap to go from this bubble in time I created for them to something post canon in America. And so I decided to fill in the gaps, to build a bridge between certain moments. I played with canon very loosely, conveniently ignored some things whilst leaning specifically into others, and ended up with this finale for this writing challenge. Enjoy!

i. a glimpse

Jackson was all self-assuredness and cocky bravado, sure, but something in him flickered at the sight of the man in front of him, the man he’d been prepared to fight before he saw him almost keel over, leaning against the barstool while his friend stepped in.

He tried to push away the flutter of sympathy in the pit of his stomach, the feeling in him that screamed familiarity and kinship, screamed that this was a man like him, just as broken, just as scared, but not wearing it half as well as Jackson himself. He tried so hard to push it away, knowing the other man was police, knowing he should steer clear for his own safety if nothing else.

But long after Inspector Reid had left his presence, when he was once again tucked up in his bed at Tenter Street after another bout with Rose that failed to distract him from the gaping chasm inside his own chest, it wasn’t Susan he thought of, but the Sergeant. He thought of the Sergeant curled up beside him, snoring softly, his own arm draped across that solid, warm body.

It would have been so much easier if he’d simply dreamed of fucking the man, if his stupid, traitorous heart hadn’t latched onto something instead.

But then, he supposed, life was never easy, and it wasn’t as though he’d be seeing the man again any time soon.

ii. lust

Jackson hadn’t had to work hard to forget any thoughts of Edmund Reid soft and cosy beside him. The reality of the man doused that flame all too quickly, with his demands and his temper and his ability to use the people around him and make them think they wanted to be used. It infuriated him, the way he acted like he had a right to other people, like he had a right to Jackson, had a right to make demands of him when they were acquaintances at best.

But the man had a way about him, a way of inspiring loyalty, a way of drawing people toward him, and Jackson, try as he might, couldn’t resist that pull. The excitement, the adventure of it all, was far too enticing, and the perks of being friends not foe with law enforcement was definitely enticing.

He felt himself softening again, unable to stop it, unable to halt the unravelling of his heart. He told himself it was just friendship, that he not only saw a kinship with this man, a man whom he could share his knowledge and passions with and receive more than blank stares and feigned enthusiasm, but also a man who needed him, needed a friend who would push him, draw him from his comfort zone, force him to confront the dark depths of his soul when others would shy away from that for fear of something Jackson hadn’t quite worked out.

And then he went too far, and Reid had him pinned to the wall, chest heaving against his own, full of a breathless fury that made Jackson’s heart pound against his ribs, made his throat go dry and his brow bead with sweat, made his trousers seem unbearably tight.

It wasn’t until Reid let him go that the reality of the moment crashed down on him hard and fast, making his legs feel weak and his breath shake. The pure want coursing through him was damn near unbearable, and Reid seemed somehow unaffected, somehow so put together it made Jackson’s chest ache.

He thought about that moment for months after, in the depths of the night when he couldn’t sleep, in the early mornings after yet another argument with Susan, in his lonely moments when he couldn’t bring himself to pay for company, and he let it consume him each and every time until he’d wrung himself dry, a panting, sweaty mess filled with far too much longing for something he could never have.

iii. love

Jackson shouldn’t have been surprised to hear Reid declare his love, not really. He was more surprised that Reid said it first, that he’d let himself be vulnerable like that in a way he couldn’t come back from. He’d shown Reid he loved him so many times and in so many ways, but the fact that Reid had said it, had got there first, damn near took his breath away.

“I love you too,” he managed through a wet laugh, body pressed close to Reid’s.

“You needn’t feel obligated to say so,” Reid said quietly, pulling back just a little, and the uncertainty in his voice threatened to shatter Jackson’s heart.

“No,” he said quickly, taking Reid’s face in his hands, forcing eye contact. “I said it ‘cause I mean it. I’m pretty sure I’ve loved you since I first set eyes on you, Reid.”

Jackson smiled as Reid’s cheeks tinged pink, a pleased little smile tugging at his lips. “As I recall, the first time we met was with you behind bars.”

“Nah,” Jackson said with a small laugh. “It was before then.” Reid leaned back a little, brow furrowing in confusion, and Jackson sighed gently. “You were drunk. Very drunk. Drake had to all but carry you out of that pub. I was trying to be pissed at you for knocking my drink from my hands on your way past but it’s as though my heart knew, even then.”

Reid’s frown deepened for a moment before his expression softened in realisation. “I’m sorry you had to see me like that.”

“Are you kidding?” Jackson said with a laugh, brushing his thumb across Reid’s cheek tenderly. “You’ve seen me in far worse states and with far more frequency.”

“It’s not the first impression I would wish for.”

“Well it worked on me,” Jackson said with a wink, which startled a laugh from Reid, loud and genuine.

“I’m not sure that’s the compliment you think it is.” An affronted retort was on the tip of Jackson’s tongue when Reid added, “Besides, this is not the first time I’ve told you I loved you.”

Jackson gaped at Reid, racking his brain for the missing memory and coming up completely empty. He was sure he would remember those words from Reid’s lips, already knew he’d cherish each and every time he heard them for as long as he was allowed.

“You were very drunk and quite possibly asleep,” Reid admitted quietly, ducking his head. “I wasn’t quite so brave, then. I wasn’t quite so sure of your heart.”

“Can’t be in doubt any longer,” Jackson said before pressing a kiss to Reid’s lips, hot and heady. “I love you and I ain’t ever gonna stop.

iv. moving in

“Move in with me,” Reid said quickly, the pink tinge to his cheeks the only thing betraying his nerves.

Jackson half groaned, half laughed. “Not that I don’t love the thought of waking up beside you every damn morning, but I don’t wanna be that far from my surgery.”

Reid’s expression softened and he took Jackson’s hand in his. “Run your surgery from my–from our–home.”

Jackson snorted, then did a double take when he saw the earnestness in Reid’s expression, the serious gleam in his eyes. “Seriously?”

“Yes. Whatever you want, whatever is in my power to give, you can have, Homer.”

Jackson studied him for a moment, heart pounding against his ribs, unable to fully believe that Reid was offering this so easily, so readily, was offering up everything Jackson wanted and had been too scared to ask for, to even dare dream of.

“You don’t have to decide–”

“Yes,” Jackson cut him off quickly before leaning in for a kiss. “God, yes, of course I’ll move in with you, Reid.”

v. moving on

Jackson was sure he felt his heart break in two as he boarded the ship to America without Reid by his side. It took everything he had to hold himself together for Connor, to not let his breath stutter and shake, not let himself cry.

Every day for months he woke expecting to see Reid beside him or feel the fresh warmth left behind across the bed from him, and the absence tore through his chest anew every single time.

He thought about writing to Reid so many times, thought of all the ways he could convince him to uproot his life so they could be together again, of all the ways he could talk of his heart, his pain, his grief, his longing. He thought, too, of all the little things he could share, about how well Connor was doing, how they went fishing together every weekend, about the people he’d met and the friendships it felt like he was tentatively forming.

But he could never quite bring himself to put pen to paper, could never quite bring himself to put his heart on the line like that when Reid had made his choice already, had allowed both their hearts to break in the process. The worst part was, he’d known Reid would stay before he’d even asked the question, had known he was just setting himself up for failure. Reid would never leave Whitechapel, not truly. That godawful place was a part of him, and he a part of it, and no matter how badly he wanted it, he’d always known Reid would never–could never–leave.

He wasn’t sure he could ever move on, not really. He’d given away so many pieces of his heart over the years and Reid had taken more than most. Jackson knew he needed what was left to look after Connor, to be a father to his child despite how much it still terrified him every single day. He knew he needed to let Reid go, make his peace with his past, so he could be the father Connor deserved.

It wasn’t easy, but he thought he’d managed. Eventually.

vi. new beginnings

Jackson was sure he was dreaming when he looked across the field and saw Reid standing there, light haloing around his head, lighting him up like he was some divine gift from God Himself. He shielded his eyes against the glare, trying to get a better look at the man as his traitorous heart hammered painfully, hopefully against his ribs.

Reid raised a hand, a hesitant wave, so Reid-like that Jackson’s breath caught in his throat and he dropped the shovel he was holding and took a faltering step forward, then another, then another, until Reid was matching him stride for stride, closing the distance between them.

Reid reached for him, eyes alight and face pale and drawn but oh so hopeful, and before Jackson could think, before he could question his movements, his fist landed squarely in Reid’s jaw.

“Shit,” Jackson hissed, shaking his hand out, knuckles smarting from the impact.”

“Christ,” Reid winced at the exact same time, nearly losing his footing as he recoiled from the impact, hand instinctively coming up to cradle his jaw. Then, “I rather imagine I deserved that.”

“You’re damn right you did,” Jackson bit out, flexing his fingers. His heart was still beating painfully against his ribs, stomach doing somersaults in a near-nauseating fashion.

“I’m sorry,” Reid whispered, daring to take another step towards Jackson. “I am truly sorry, Homer.”

“You’re really here?” Jackson whispered, tears blurring his vision before he could stop them.

“I’m really here,” Reid said softly, reaching out tentatively, cupping Jackson’s face when he didn’t move to pull away.

Jackson leaned into the touch, a shaky sigh leaving his lips as he let his eyes fall closed, savouring the feel of Reid’s touch after so long. He covered Reid’s hand with his own, breathing him in, terrified that if he opened his eyes, Reid would be gone, just an overly vivid dream and nothing more.

“I’m really here,” Reid said again, louder this time as he moved minutely closer, placing his other hand over Jackson’s chest, and Jackson crumbled at that, fell into Reid as a shaky half-sob left his lips.

Reid’s arms came around him, sure and strong and so achingly familiar that Jackson very nearly let out another sob, very nearly let go of the pain he’d been holding onto for the past two years, very nearly let himself unravel right here in Reid’s arms. But instead he took a deep breath and pulled himself upright, not quite out of Reid’s touch, but enough to feel as though he were standing on his own two feet, as though the world hadn’t come undone beneath him.

“Two years,” he whispered, cupping Reid’s cheek, catching a stray, unexpected tear with his thumb. “Two damn years, Reid, and not a word.”

“What was I to say?” Reid asked through a wet laugh. “That I missed you? That my heart ached for you? That I was an absolute fool who’d chosen wrong and yet couldn’t muster the courage to rectify it in case I was too late?”

“But you did,” Jackson said with a shaky smile, sliding his hand into the back of Reid’s hair, pressing their foreheads together.

“And I am not too late?”

Jackson was in half a mind to tell him he was, that he’d missed his chance, but the hope in Reid’s voice mirrored the hope in Jackson’s heart far too closely to even consider putting up walls between them. So instead, he kissed Reid, hungry and desperate, like a man starved, because that’s how he felt; starved for contact, for affection, for passion, for Reid.

“You’re not too late,” he whispered shakily. “You could never be too late, Reid.”

#ripper street #homer jackson #edmund reid #jackmund #my writing #fanfiction #fluffy february

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eveeleaf · 2 years ago

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Do you promise?

I was going to put this fanfic in the contest, but I couldn't finish in time

More about my mc and the drawings I did that inspired the fic is here

I apologize for any grammatical error and misspelling

Duality is a Visual Novel +18, minors DNI

@dualityvn

"You can do it, just talk calmly." She said to herself, very softly as she opened the flower shop door. The sound of the little bell filling the room, announcing someone's entry.

"Welcome, how can I help you today?" The attendant who had the badge with the name "Melissa" inlaid greeted with a sweet and friendly smile.

"Ahn... Well, it's just that the first time I came here I bought a peace lily to decorate my apartment for the first time and a b-boy attended to me. His name is Keith. He helped me a lot by answering my questions, and s-so I came to tell him how the flower is doing and ask for some more tips on how to preserved it.” She blurted out in a nervous tone when she realized that it wasn't the blond attendant she had been expecting.

"Ahh, yes. I see." Said Melissa in a calm manner as she understood what the girl was saying still with a smile on her face. "My colleague went out to place an order before he finished his workday, but I can offer you some tips on how to take care of your little plant and make it last for a long time." She said, taking out a little notebook.

"A-ah, yes, please. If it's not too much trouble."

After Melissa gave Eve some tips, she still wrote them down on a notebook sheet, explaining them calmly and answering all her questions. She thanked for the help and said goodbye before leaving the flower store. Although it was not quite what she had expected, the attendant Melissa, Keith's colleague, was very nice and helpful. Melissa seemed like a very nice person, she thought. Waiting for the traffic light to open so she could cross, she began to smile as she recognized a tall figure with an unmistakable skin tone. It was like a déjà vu from the first time they met.

"Hi, Eve! Where you goin��?" Greeted Tenebris as she approached.

"Hi Tenebris, what's up, I'm going to my work."

"Do you mind if I walk with you? I can drop you off if you wish." He inquired, putting his hands in his pockets. She couldn't help the slight giggle she gave. Eve always thought it was very cute of him how, ever since they met, Tenebris accompanied her whenever he could. - There was even one time one weekend when she met him on the way home and invited him to watch a movie together. That day was a lot of fun for both of them. - And even then, he always asked if he could accompany her, and she always answered yes.

"Oh, sure. If it's not in your way, we can go ahead and talk. " Eve said, already guiding the direction of the path beside Tenebris. "I've been practicing my shooting in Rainbow Six, it just gets hard to practice in a match style, because sometimes they take the gun I wanted to use," Eve said trying to make conversation as they walked. She had thought Tenebris was so cool at first, she had been nervous about making small talk or asking him to do any activities together. But now she felt much more comfortable in his presence. "When you are free, shall we play together? I really need some tips from you and for you to help me level up."

"Sure! You can leave it to me. I'm among the highest ranks there. With my help, you'll move up in status in no time. The key to winning the match is to pay close attention to the drones and always keep an eye on the map. During the week, I usually play more in the evening and early morning."

"Me too," Eve said, the two of them turning the corner could already see the building she worked in getting closer and closer as they walked. "We can arrange a good time by text. Is that okay?"

Tenebris' contact had been safe since the day he appeared out of nowhere in her apartment weeks ago. That gave her quite a fright. It felt as if her heart would jump out of her chest. Fortunately, she understood that he didn't mean any harm, but because he didn't know that you can't just barge into other people's homes. If it had been anyone else she would have found it hard to believe, but Tenebris' honesty reflected directly in his face, leaving no doubt at all. She trusted his word. Although it was really strange that he didn't know basic things like this, but who was she to question? Maybe he hadn't been directly taught in his childhood. Eve couldn't blame him. That was one of the reasons she had given him her number in the beginning. She wanted to make sure he wouldn't do anything reckless or dangerous again.

"But of course! That's fine with me."

"I need to go in now, see you later."

She held out her arms and reached up to hug him. That caught Tenebris a little off guard, but he quickly reciprocated with even more intensity. Squeezing her even tighter, but trying hard not to hurt her unintentionally with his abnormal strength unknown to Eve. Relaxing in the shared warmth. He was so tall that he could rest his head on top of her head.

"Oh, that's right!" Eve remembered something, trying to pull away from Tenebris' grip, in which he let go against his own will. "You like chocolate too, right? Here. I won a basket of chocolate in a raffle. I separated some for you." She handed the bag with the chocolates to him, not noticing his cheeks taking on a stronger shade of purple.

"Huh? Are you serious? T-thank you! You're very kind... did you set this aside just for me?"

"Uhum, I hope you like it," Said with a shy smile. "I have to go now, bye!" She said goodbye with a nod, walking towards the building's entrance. Leaving behind a paralyzed Tenebris with the silliest, happiest face that could exist who waved back.

"...Eve?"

A light knock on the table roused her from her reveries. Jacob, a colleague from work, was staring at her with an arched eyebrow.

"H-hi! Yes! ... What did you say again?"

"I came to ask if you received the email detailing the perfumery client's requests and demands. Since you didn't confirm it."

"A-ah," she straightened her posture in her chair to answer. "Yes, I did! Sorry, I ended up forgetting to confirm."

"It's okay, don't worry. Just try not to forget next time please." He assured with a smile already heading for the exit, until he stopped halfway.

"Oh, one more thing, here are two tickets. The client asked me to give them to you since he's going to take over the visual identity project for his store. Apparently it's for a famous flower fair he's having around town. He says it is to 'get a better feel for the real essence of the flowers' or something and he wanted to go along so he could educate you better but something came up. I would say that you were very lucky to get this client, but I have heard that he is quite extravagant in what he wants, and not in a good way. Not to scare you, of course. Just that I warned you about it. If you need any help, you know you can count on me, right?" Jacob said, putting his hand on her shoulder and giving her an empathetic look. "Anyway, here they are, and good luck on the project."

Eve took the tickets with one hand, the other trying to stifle a yawn, taking a closer look at them as Jacob finished packing up his things, waving before leaving. His schedule was ending as well. He decided to gather his things to go home when he heard a notification on his cell phone.

It was from his college friend, asking how she was.

Looking both ways, as if to make sure it was okay to text at the end of business hours, confirming the already empty tables, Eve began to tell of her day. About the failed attempt to try to talk to Keith, the meeting with Melissa for the first time, and the tickets she won from the client.

"That's it! You should ask him out."

"What?!"

She said, immediately covering her mouth in a meager attempt to muffle the sound. This took her by surprise, causing her to nearly choke on her own saliva. Fortunately she was talking by text message and not by video call. Or her co-workers would be giving her judgmental looks right now. Even though there was almost no one left on that floor.

"You said he was a nice guy, was single, and liked flowers. And that the tickets are for you to learn more about flowers and stuff. What's the problem then? You'd be putting the good and the bad together."

"The problem is that I've never done that before. What if I say something stupid? Or scare him? No, I will definitely scare him. Said in reply.

"That's impossible. How are you going to scare him? I know you can be a little off your head sometimes and say random things out of the blue, but you're still a nice person. Anyone would find you interesting. In fact, if I were you, I would have asked for his number the moment you met, but since you are shy, ask him about the flowers, for more information and tips. Use this project to your advantage as a way to get closer to him. Just act naturally and don't talk weirdness."

Eve stared at her friend's last messages for a while. Reflecting on the pros and cons. What harm could it do? It was a way to get closer to the florist. She still needed more information about the flower bouquet. It seemed to her a plausible reason to call Keith out without making it too obvious. In the end she concluded that there was nothing to lose. At worst, the rejection would serve as an experiment and she would try miserably to pretend it didn't happen, she thought.

"Okay. Wish me good luck then! If it goes wrong it's your fault!"

"Good luck! Everything will work out fine! Let me know how it goes."

"Okay, act naturally and don't talk weird. Act naturally and don't talk weird."

She continually repeated in her head as she opened the door to the flower shop that was on the way to her work the next day. The sound of the little door bell announcing her entrance.

"Welcome." Said the blond attendant behind the counter. "Hi, Eve. Good to see you again. What can I do for you today? Melissa told me you came by the other day. I'm so glad to hear that your little flower is doing well." He said with a cute smile on her face. Her cheeks were slightly pink, giving her face a more delicate look. Eve didn't want to miss any details of his features. Just hearing his voice made her happy.

"A-ah yes. It was... I came to get some tips on how to preserve her better and tell you that she's doing well. Thanks to the tips you two gave, I was able to keep her alive."

She tried, but unsuccessfully, to disguise the nervousness installed in her. As well as the shyness, due to the fact that her cheeks were probably flushed from being close to Keith.

It was almost impossible not to notice how handsome he was. His neat golden curls. His brown eyes that sparkled in the light. The fact that I was always dumbfounded to notice the contrast between their heights. Besides being handsome, Keith was very polite and kind. He always charmed Eve with his passion for flowers and his enthusiasm to tell her various curiosities about how the way an arrangement is put together expresses different meanings.

Walking around the store looking for the courage to bring up the subject, it was much harder to think calmly when you were actually face to face with him. Observed him attending to the customers out of the corner of her eyes while pretending to pay attention to some flowers. When the store was truly empty, with no more customers in sight, she approached him when she was sure it was just the two of them in the store.

"Ah... Keith?"

"Yes?" He said, turning his face in her direction. "Do you need any help or did you find what you were looking for?"

She felt her cheeks heat up at the thought that maybe she hadn't faked it convincingly enough.

"N-not really..."

She took a deep breath and continued

"I was in charge of a project related to a flower business at my work. A client who is opening a branch of a perfumery here in town hired us to create a visual identity and gave me two tickets to go to a flower festival to get more inspiration. I think the name was Floral Festival? Do you know it?"

Eve watched the blond florist stand paralyzed for a few milliseconds, until a smile implanted itself on his beautiful face and he nodded vigorously, making her heart skip a few beats.

"Yes! Of course I do! In fact, I've been wanting to go for a long time, but I couldn't get the tickets in time, since it's such a big event."

Knowing this couldn't be more encouraging to Eve. It was finally her chance to ask him out.

"W-well, I got two tickets since the client won't be able to go with me due to some unforeseen circumstances and I alone don't understand much of the meanings of flowers. So if you are free tomorrow...would you like to go together with me?"

Nervous was hardly enough to describe how Eve felt at that moment. It was the first time she had ever asked someone out. The first time she had ever been interested in someone to the point that she wanted to be with them and listen to them talk for hours on end. If she could spend these moments with Keith, she would be more than fulfilled.

As she tried to discreetly dry her sweaty hands, she could swear she saw Keith's face light up at the invitation, filling her heart with hope.

"Of course! I'd love to go along! It's going to be quite an experience. There are so many varieties of flowers that are displayed at this festival...it's going to be amazing! I can show you the lilies, roses, tulips! You can count on me!"

Eve's heart was beating so hard at that moment. She hoped with all her might that it wasn't so obvious the happiness that implanted itself on her face at that moment.

"Perfect! Thank you very much! It will help so much!" The happiness she felt at that moment could be compared to winning a rare character with few resources in a game. A unique luck. " At what time can we go together? What do you say we make better arrangements over the cell phone?" She said, already pulling her cell phone out of her pocket to try to save his number. In fact, Eve would have liked to ask for his number from the first time she saw him when she entered the flower shop looking for shelter from the rain, but she was too shy for that. And hoped that this way she could get closer to him. If only she had the same courage and honesty as Tenebris when he asked for her number.

"A-ah... Well, actually," Observed Keith fussed a bit before continuing. "My cell phone broke and I ended up losing all my contacts. I'm out for now. How about I drop by and pick you up at your place? You can write your address right here on this paper." He concluded as he took a piece of paper from the counter with a pen and directed it to her.

"Oh, that's fine! No problem for me" Eve replied, cautiously taking the pen from Keith's soft hands.

She had waited for days, which turned into weeks for a chance to approach the florist and she would not let this opportunity pass her by.

"See you tomorrow morning then?" She asked, before handing over the paper with her address written down.

"Yes! See you tomorrow!"

She gave a nod, taking one last look at Keith before leaving.

Her steps were so light. It felt like she was floating on fluffy clouds, but her heart was still racing. She couldn't believe what had just happened. She walked towards her apartment, almost dancing. Happiness stamped shyly on her face.

"You need to get out of your little world, life is much more than your room, you know? What experiences are you going to have locked in your room all day? That's not life."

"I know mom, I've been taking bike rides in the park and hanging out with my friend. I don't just stay at home..."

It was only a few minutes before Keith arrived, but Eve was stuck talking to her mother on her cell phone, who decided to lecture her at that hour.

"Don't be like your brother. The other day I fought with him for being locked in his room all day. He needs to focus on his studies, he is about to graduate from high school. You know I only want what's good for you. I am afraid that you will hurt yourself while you are distracted like this. Try to be alert at all times, especially when you go out. There are many rumors going around of people being harassed late at night.

"I know mom, don't worry, I promise I am taking care of myself."

Her mother meant well and cared about her and her younger brother, but she didn't know how to listen to the opinions of others. It bothered Eve that only her opinions mattered. If she had a different opinion than her mother, she didn't take it well. She couldn't understand how liking to stay at home more, amounted to isolating herself from the world and living in a bubble. Really, what did one thing have to do with the other? She could exaggerate sometimes. That's why she did everything she could to move out and live on her own, where she felt much better without all the pressure on her.

"All right then, I'll call you later for a better talk. Now I have to go. Once again, be careful! Kisses, see you later."

"Bye, see you later."

She waited to end the call before letting out a sigh. That had sucked a lot of her desire to leave now.. It frustrated her too much to not be enough or never do enough to please her mother. In time she just accepted it with her mouth shut and tried to forget, although it still made her sad when it happened. When she was sad, she would isolate herself and try to distract her mind by playing games or watching something, but she had a date with Keith right now. She couldn't let it end her day.

That's what she decided. Closing the lights in her apartment, she refilled her kitty's food bowl, and gave her a small cuddle while she watched her eat. Getting up, he picked up his cell phone from the table and saw that he had received a message from someone at work. But he decided to check it another time. He was off duty and couldn't think of anything else to do at that moment. Now was also not the time to be sad and depressed.

Going down to the reception, she put the last touches on her dress and hair. Checking if everything was in its place. Until she heard footsteps coming from her right side.

"Did I take too long?" There was no mistaking hearing that sweet voice that made Eve's heart leap just by uttering measly syllables.

"No, I just got here too." She replied, waving her hands to emphasize that everything was fine. "Shall we?" She said, positioning herself next to Keith so they could start walking.

This was harder than it seemed for Eve. Being around Keith made her nervous, afraid she would do or say something stupid. Her hands sweated uncontrollably and she always tried to dry herself on her clothes when he wasn't looking.

Fortunately the environment chosen for the festival was cool and well ventilated, which lightened the atmosphere. The smell was also pleasant. And since Eve had taken her antiallergic there was no risk of sneezing at an inopportune moment.

"Look, here they also have Cosmos atrosanguineus! Their structure can reach a height of 40 to 70 cm. They do not generate seeds and need to be raised with the help of tissue culture or root division. That's why where they live is protected by law.

She moved closer to Keith to hear him better. There was nothing that made her happier than hearing him talk about plants. It seemed like he was going off into his own little world, talking all excited about curiosities she had never heard before, but it made her heart warm to hear him talk. There was no doubt that he loved what he did.

"Really? Wow, they really do smell like chocolate!" She moved closer to the red flowers, feeling their fragrance. "Do they taste like chocolate too?" She pondered, laughing a little at her own comment.

"I believe not, but trying is not impossible." Said Keith with a hand in front of his mouth covering his mouth a bit as Eve laughed, "Do you like chocolate?"

"Oh, I do. Very much actually. Ahh, just thinking about it I get mouthwatering ."

"Why don't we sit down a bit? We've been walking for a while now." Said Keith pointing to some covered benches where there were some people sitting around talking.

The sky was a beautiful shade of orange, indicating the end of the afternoon and the slow arrival of night.

"What did you think of the festival, Keith? Was it fun?" She could feel her cheeks warming up again as she stared him right in the eye. Wondering if she would ever get used to being so close to him.

"It was so much fun! It's the first time I've had the opportunity to come into contact with so many rare plants that I've never seen in person before," Keith said with a beautifully satisfied smile on his face, which changed to a slight frown along with a slight restlessness in his fingers that went unnoticed by Eve. "Thank you so much for asking me to come along today, Eve. It was one of the best days for me. It really has been a long time since I've had this much fun. I hope you had as much fun as I did and that I was of some help to your project. I know that sometimes I can get a little carried away when it comes to flowers... haha" he concluded a little nervously.

"Thank you for coming along with me! I don't know what I would have done without your help. I've been able to absorb a lot of interesting things about flowers and it will help me a lot in my work. Thank you very much indeed for today."

"What did you enjoy seeing most today?"

"Hmm, that's a tough one. Haha. There were so many plants that I've never seen before in person. But if I could only choose one, I would say lilies. They have been my favorite since I was little, so it was special to see them in person. They are even more beautiful up close.

Eve could have sworn she saw the exact moment when Keith's eyes light up like stars in the sky upon hearing her answer. Making her own heart skip a beat.

"Lilies are one of my favorites too!"

"Really?!"

"Yeah!"

"How did we spend the day at a flower festival and not know each other's favorites?"

The two fell into laughter. It was clear to see the moment when the atmosphere became lighter. But thanks to those moments and the opportunity to spend the day with each other. They could get to know each other a little better.

Expressing herself with words was never Eve's strong suit. She had always considered herself more the type who liked to observe people and just be a spectator than to have an effective conversation. She hoped that little by little she could change that about herself.

The fair was almost over. She wanted to give him something to end that day well. Something that could be memorable. That when he looked at it, he would remember this day with her. That's when she noticed the gift store with seedlings of several plants. This was the perfect gift.

"Look, Keith! Let's go over there!" She said, already running in the direction of the little shop.

"Hi, I hope you enjoyed the festival," said a little lady who looked to be in her sixties. "Here in our store we have seedlings of various plants as a form of gift giving. Flowers are like eternal partners, storing precious and joyful moments, using that joy as a source of energy. As a kind of souvenir. Said the shop assistant, pointing to her side, where there were a few seedlings left on offer "Since the festival is almost over, I can give a discount to the young couple."

"A-ah, we're not-" How many more times could Eve's cheeks take the redness? She thought.

"Come on, don't be shy! From afar I could observe that you make a beautiful couple together! We have these options still available. I'm sure they will be to your liking."

"S-so, would you have any lily seedlings left?"

"Ahh, unfortunately no," she spoke with an apologetic tone. "They were the most requested and ran out early. But we still have those beautiful tulips available."

"Hmm, that being the case," she pondered for a moment, trying to remember the things Keith had explained to her about the meanings of tulips. "I'll have those red tulips, please."

"Here, young lady. May these tulips pass on your feelings to your beloved."

"T-Thank you." She paid for the two seedlings, placed in vases, and approached Keith.

"Ah, I wanted to pay for them." He said, seeing the two plant seedlings in Eve's hands.

"No! You already paid for our lunch, even though I insisted on helping. Now it's my turn to pay you back," she said, taking a deep breath before continuing. "Well, I really wanted to give you lilies but since they were no longer available, I hope you'll accept these tulips. As a gift from today. That way we can share something together, what do you think?"

"B-but Eve, those... I mean, are you sure?"

Agreed Eve, nodding her head positively.

"I know we may not be close enough to be considered friends, but I'd like to go through that stage and get to know you better. I mean, if you want too of course." I said, glancing over from the corner of my eye to check Keith's reaction.

"Eve...do you think the meaning of the red tulip is that of friendship?"

"Huh, Isn't that right?"

Keith couldn't hold it in and began to laugh at the situation. To the others it might not have been such a funny thing, but the moment Eve offered him the red tulips, he felt his heart race faster and almost had a meltdown.

"I think you got a little confused," he tried to calm his breathing to stop laughing and continue explaining. "Yellow tulips mean cheerful thoughts, red ones, well..." he hesitated a bit before moving closer to Eve's ear so that only she could hear. "It has a more romantic meaning, they represent 'true and everlasting love' ' He pulled away, covering the smile that settled on his lips lightly with his hand. "Shall we walk? I'll drop you off at your front door."

She was too embarrassed to verbalize anything, so she just nodded her head low. Following along the path back to her house, they continued talking about how the day went and the fun things they did and saw, with Keith still joking a bit with Eve about the tulip event. She didn't like being picked on, but if it was Keith, she didn't mind a bit.

"We're here." He said, stopping in front of the doorway of her apartment. "Thanks so much for today. I really had a great time today. "

"I had a great time too. Thanks again for accepting my invitation." I said, hesitating a bit before continuing. "...Keith?"

"Yes?"

"I know I ended up confusing the meanings, but they still represent how I feel," Eve confessed with her head bowed. "I hope we can go out and get to know each other better, but I know how I feel about you is a stronger feeling than just friendship, so...would you like to go out with me another day? Like a date?"

Eve felt her hands sweat more than they should. Looking forward to Keith's answer.

"So... today wasn't a date?"

!!!!

This caught her so off guard that she raised her head in surprise. Did he consider today a date? Would he like to have been one? As if he could read Eve's thoughts at that moment, a light laugh echoed off Keith's lips before he continued. "I'd love to. My turn to pick a place. What do you think?"

"Y-yes! That would be great." She readily agreed, fiddling lightly with her dress. "We'll be in touch then? When your cell phone is fixed, can you give me your number?"

Keith stirred a bit, looking like he wanted to say something, but in the end he just said with a slight smile on his face, "Sure, see you later." He said goodbye with a nod.

Eve waved back, watching Keith's figure grow more and more distant.

When she could no longer see him from afar, she headed for the entrance to her apartment. Until she felt her cell phone vibrating in her purse. A message.

"What's up, Eve? Are you free today? Can we play together today?"

A smile formed on Eve's lips. It wasn't too hard to tell who sent the messages. It was Tenebris. Just imagining that he actually remembered that... Eve could only think that he got even cuter as the days went by.

Just as she was about to answer, her cell phone screen changed to an attempted call from her superior at work. A sigh already escaped her lips as she realized that this call would not be quick or easy to handle. She didn't want to answer at that moment, but she knew that not answering would only make things worse. So she headed to a darker, more private corner, mentally preparing herself for what was to come.

"Do you have a problem? Is there nothing going on in that hollow little head of yours but wind? Seriously, I've had enough of this. Don't you think? Use your head for something! Get out of your world and pay more attention to the things around you.”

"I-I didn't know. I-"

"That's exactly what I'm talking about! Ask next time. Those tickets were for you and me! You're such a fool, aren't you?"

"B-but they didn't tell me, and you-you'd already gone home-"

"Are you going to try to use that lame excuse now? Seriously, you're impossible. You know what? Forget it." The call ended brutally.

It had been over 20 minutes since the extremely uncomfortable conversation had lasted. Eve had avoided prolonging the torture as much as possible, just hoping it would be over soon.

She couldn't express her feelings well or verbalize her thoughts, and as a result she was at the mercy of other people's cruelty.

A small feeling of relief formed the moment the call ended. The tears finally falling rolled freely down her face in a silent way.

Stupid. Idiotic. Dumb. She kept repeating in her head, belittling herself. Motionless for a few moments to pull herself together, or at least to try.

Wiping away the tears, she slowly went to the grocery store to get something to relieve the pain and emptiness she now felt in her chest. She was sad and hungry, she needed to eat something before going back to her bubble of sadness.

With the automatic door giving her access and with a somewhat apathetic appearance, she picked up a small basket, placing sweets like chocolate bars and snacks. All in the automatic mode. It didn't seem fair. Why did things like this have to happen so soon after such a good and fun day? Was she not allowed to have a normal day and be happy for a while? Maybe it's true, she thought. Maybe she was a fool who lived in the world of the moon. Acceptance slowly taking over her body. Maybe that was the kind of treatment she deserves.

Paying for the things she bought and leaving the store still disconnected from the rest of the world, just wanting to get home soon. Until she felt someone's hand hold hers tightly from behind.

"Hey, lady," a man she had never seen before held her tightly by the hand, preventing her from letting go. "You dropped this in the back, I came to give it back to you."

It was the keychain from her purse. The chain was a little frayed and slack, so it must have fallen off without her noticing.

"Oh... thank you." She said, taking back her keychain and trying to let go of his hand, but he wouldn't let go at all, feeling the grip getting stronger she tried unsuccessfully to pull away. "I'm going to go now, then-"

"You're very pretty... and you smell very nice too. Don't you want to keep me company? We can do something together... shall we go to my place?" He said, moving closer.

Eve could smell the strong odor of alcohol coming from him. It had to be. Just when she thought this one couldn't take a worse ending, it happened. She hated with all her might people who drank beyond their account, losing their ability to reason.

"No, I need to go." He tried to pull on her arm. "Let go of me please."

"Come on, I promise you it will be fun. Just the two of us. Just the two of us. I bet you don't have anything more interesting to do anyway..."

"No, let me go." He looked around for help, but the street was deserted. There was no one around. He tried desperately to let go of her hand, but even drunk he was still stronger than she was. Maybe if she screamed for help...

"Get your fucking hands off her, you shit."

She froze in place, her feet frozen on the ground as she noticed the figure of someone say before knocking out the drunk who was pestering her, knocking him to the ground. It was very dark, you couldn't see the person properly by the low lighting.

"You're nothing but a little shit." She watched this someone, grab the fallen drunk by the collar to land another punch. Before dropping him to the ground and turning toward her. That was the snap she needed to snap back to reality. With adrenaline surging through her body, Eve began to run as fast as she could. All she wanted was to get away from this situation. Really, how unlucky was she to have to deal with all of this in a single day? As she ran she grabbed the cell phone from her purse and tried to call someone.

She needed help. Someone. Anyone. She didn't want to and knew that she couldn't deal with the situation alone. She clicked on the first number that appeared in her call history. Not paying attention to the path she was running, she ran into a dead end. That's when her legs gave way and she fell to the ground. She was exhausted. She didn't have the strength at the moment to get up. She could only feel the beats of her own heart and her cell phone.

Until her heard the sound of another cell phone ringing in front of you. And so did the quick footsteps of someone getting closer and closer. As the figure got closer and closer, she could recognize that it was the same person as just now, who knocked out that drunk. When he finally stopped in front of her, she could better notice his face. He had blotches of purple mixed on his face and body. He was also wearing a purple shirt, but in a shade that he noticed was darker. She also wore a necklace that Eve swore she had seen before...! But it was when the person finally answered the ringing cell phone that the situation changed course.

"Eve...!"

She couldn't quite understand. This person was wearing the clothes of Tenebris, but the face resembled another. But how? Could it be a coincidence? Her eyes could be deceiving her. Looking at her screen display, she realized that she had tried to call Tenebris, so why? Why had he answered? He couldn't think clearly what had just happened. How was this possible? What was this? Why did he also resemble Keith?

"I'm sorry about that! I-I didn't mean to scare you! I was concerned since it had been a while since you had answered my messages. That's when I saw that piece of garbage bothering you...and I just lost my mind. I'm sorry." He said, kneeling in front of her.

When she tried to say something, the figure that looked like Tenebris but with some of Keith's features began to cringe pulling at her own hair as she took steps backwards. "No, not now!" was the last thing she heard him say before he stirred more and more. Until it completely took on the form of someone she dared to say she knew well. For there was no mistaking this face she thought of whenever she could.

"Eve... I-I can explain! I know this is super weird and confusing, but if you give me a chance, I promise I'll explain everything to you...!" Pleaded Keith, slowly approaching her, with light steps so as not to startle her even more. Stopping at a distance that allowed a good view of her face. It really was him. There was no doubt about it. But this just happened... one moment it was Tenebris, and now it was totally Keith in front of her, as if they were two people in one body. All she wanted was to wake up from this crazy dream.

Eve lifted her head to get a good look at him. Her thoughts were conflicting in her mind. She wasn't sure how to process it all, but she could see the anxiety and sense of desperation in Keith's eyes. He seemed to really want to explain himself. And that was all she wanted most at that moment.

"A-all right," she said, her voice faltering a little and regaining the strength to stand up. There was no point in staying there on the floor confused about it. She needed clarification. With a sigh, she sought the strength to continue saying. "Shall we go upstairs? We'd better talk somewhere more private and quiet." She suggested, pointing to her apartment building which she could recognize now that she was a little calmer.

"C-Couse! Yes we will..." Keith was quick to respond, but hesitated a bit before following her. He stayed the whole way to Eve's apartment in silence, his head down, already thinking about the worst of the situation.

He sat down when she offered him a chair, sitting next to each other, face to face. Offering a cup of tea beforehand, to further calm his nerves before they talked.

"About what happened now... what was that about?" Eve began, a little afraid still. "... Do you know Tenebris? He... and you..." She couldn't continue the rest of the sentence.

"I'm really sorry I kept it from you Eve..." she listened intently to what Keith had to say. "I didn't mean for things to have happened like that, I just...! I was scared. Really afraid. That you would freak out and end up walking away from me... from us! I've been with him since I can remember, it's something that no one can explain, we also have no idea how or why we both share the same body. And after a long time, we end up just accepting it. Trying to deal with this situation the best way we could, but it's really not easy. For neither of us. Everybody that we know, people that I used to live with, my friends... everybody has moved away, avoided us. I can't blame them. When I met you, I was very afraid. That you would also run away the moment you knew our truth, what we are. I am sorry. But please! I promise you that-"

"Is that why you didn't give me your phone? You said it was in repair." She interrupted him unintentionally, but she needed to know.

"A-ah, that..." she scratched her head lightly before continuing. "My cell phone was really broken, Tenebris gets a little carried away sometimes. Except that you already had the number the moment you gave yours to Tenebris that day. I assumed that you would find it odd, to say the least, to try to text me and have him answer."

"Ahh, true..." she rolled over in her chair a little. It was the first time Eve had seen Keith wearing more punk styled clothes, so it was a little strange for her to see Keith wearing Tenebris' clothes, but not in a bad way. "Hmm, I'm not going to lie, this is all kind of weird. A lot actually...but that's all it is to me. Now that the adrenaline has passed and I can think better, I can no longer be surprised and scared of you two. I even apologize if my reaction was over the top, it probably must have hurt you."

"Huh?"

"I mean," she tried to explain herself better. "Yeah, this whole stuff about you guys being connected like that, it's unusual, but you guys have never done anything to hurt me or anything like that. You've always been kind to me, and I like you both. Very much, actually. I was surprised that this was the first time I saw something like this, but I wasn't afraid. I don't see any reason to stay away from you. I understand how it hurts when people pull away without warning or lose interest in you..."

"I-I, I mean... really? Are you sure about that?"

"Uhum." He agreed, nodding positively.

Keith still couldn't believe it. Much less Tenebris. It was just too surreal. To meet a person who for the first time was not afraid of Tenebris or repulsed by them. Eve could tell he still had his doubts about it, so she held out her pinky to Keith.

"How about this? I promise that no matter what happens, I won't abandon you or walk away without saying anything to you, pinky-finger promise-... Oh, right!" She lifted her other hand raising her other pinky together. "Okay, now yes, pinky promise. I promise you both."

That was the final straw for both of them. It felt like it was all a dream, and that at any moment they might wake up in their house, as if nothing that happened now was real. It was too good for both of them to be considered true. With this small gesture, Eve unintentionally made them both take over the body at the same time, but only for a short time. Wiping away the tear that was falling from her eyes, they raised their hands so that they could both intertwine their pinkies with hers.

"Do you promise?"

"Uhum! I promise!"

#duality vn #keith duality #tenebris duality #duality fanfic #my mc

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my-own-walker · 1 year ago

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Someone You've Never Seen Before

A Kyle Spencer Fan Fiction

frat!kyle AU, fem!main character, sexual themes, mature language, use of drugs and alcohol, frat boy antics

The rest of the weekend went fine. I spent the majority of it dreading class on Monday. For one, I did not want to see how badly I failed Friday's quiz. Also, I especially didn't want to see Kyle. Or Kyle to see me, for that matter. It was weird that he had gone from "just some guy" to someone I couldn't stand in a matter of a day.

When I sat in the nearly empty lecture hall, I said a silent prayer that Kyle would find himself running early today. He could find a seat next to Archie and I would have a break from him. Instead, though, I sat through an excruciating fifteen minutes of watching people trickle in, filling up the classroom in the usual arrangement. I couldn't even look at the door any longer, for fear of Kyle thinking I might be looking for him. I began doodling in my notebook, idly drawing little faces and flowers while awaiting my impending social doom.

Within seconds, it seemed, a figure slid down into the chair next to mine, landing with a thunk. I didn't dare move a muscle. As if the universe were trying to reward me, our professor began the lecture quickly. I avoided any confrontation with Kyle, at least for the time being.

I took notes rather diligently. There was no way I could stoop as low as to cheat again. Each figure, equation, and concept got hastily scribbled into my notebook. I even threw on my glasses part-way through to see the board better. I didn't wear them often, instead opting to simply sit where I could see well enough. But I meant business.

The class started to go by quickly. The professor began to speak faster in order to cram the content in before the hour was up. I could hardly keep up with the break-neck pace. While flipping my pencil over to erase something I had written, it flew out of my hand and clattered to the ground. Before I could even react, a blonde mop of hair dipped into my periphery.

"Here," Kyle whispered, presenting me with the catapulted writing utensil.

"Thanks," I replied simply, taking the pencil so I could return to trying to not fail calculus. He smiled genuinely at me, his gaze lingering for longer than I could believe. I returned to writing, but suddenly, it was hard to focus on the task at hand. My stupid brain kept replaying his smile. The way his eyes crinkled, their deep brown color striking me. Stop, Hannah, I scolded myself.

Professor Edwards finally finished lecturing and opened up the room to questions, with just minutes until we were due to leave. I looked at my handiwork in my notebook and found that I hadn't written anything down since dropping my pencil. I covered my face with my hands and rubbed my eyes. How could I let a boy, let alone Kyle Spencer, distract me like that?

I felt Kyle turn his attention to me. In my periphery, I could see that he was looking at me periodically. I tried my best to focus on the last seconds of class time, but it was to no avail. I started packing my things up in defeat.

Kyle was up and out of his seat as soon as our professor said we could leave. I was thankful for it. If he didn't want to chance speaking to me, I sure as hell didn't want to chance it either.

The apartment was eerily quiet. I couldn't stand it.

I was up late, trying to finish a piece for my poetry class. Inspiration hadn't struck me yet and I grew frustrated. It wasn't due until Friday, but if I wanted to pass a calc quiz, I'd have to finish the poem as soon as possible to focus on math for the rest of the week. I stood and stretched, padding over to my bed. The old mattress springs protested as I laid my weary body upon them.

I stared up at the ceiling, hoping some divine intervention would give me an idea. The poetry prompt was essentially to write about love. It was the first piece that would be due in class, so the professor started with an easy assignment. Well, at least, it was supposed to be. Love is perhaps the easiest, most cliche thing to write about. I think that's why I struggled so much with it.

Out of sheer desperation, I pulled out my phone to scroll through Instagram. Maybe getting the instant dopamine rush of social media would help me feel "love" somehow. I mainly followed other kids from school. My feed was full of party photos, quotes from famous authors, and some indie "aesthetic" accounts' posts.

While scrolling, a quote from Virginia Woolf came up. I was relieved, hoping her great, old words would give me inspiration. "Just in case you ever foolishly forget; I'm never not thinking of you." I scrolled down, kind of unsatisfied with the quote. The next photo was one posted by my friend Leon. It was a group shot of him and his frat brothers at the TKE party on Friday. In the center of the shot, stood an unmistakable blonde boy. Kyle Spencer.

I threw my phone down onto the bed next to me and groaned aloud. Why can I not get rid of this guy? Why do I see him everywhere now? I thought. I sat up and stared off, wide-eyed, at the corner of my room. I knew what I needed.

Hopping off my bed, I was careful to not make too much noise. I grabbed my laptop and shoved it into my leather messenger bag. I slid the first pair of shoes I could find on, plugged my headphones into my phone, and slipped quietly out of my room.

My plan was to hit up my favorite late-night coffee shop on campus. The night was dark and humid, smacking me in the face as I stepped out into it. After shoving my headphones into my ears, I put the hood up on my sweatshirt and set off to my insomniac paradise. It was aptly called "Sleepwalker Coffee Co." They knew their audience well. College students need caffeine at all hours of the day.

The walk was short. We lived rather close to the shop. I discovered the place my freshman year and fell in love. When Lily and I were searching for an apartment, I practically begged her, on my hands and knees, to move into the place closest to Sleepwalker. In three years, I essentially ate and drank my way through their entire menu. I walked along the campus streets until I reached the familiar brick exterior of the shop. The door was painted a dark evergreen and held a beautiful wreath of dried flowers. When I stepped in, the warm smell of cinnamon and freshly ground coffee beans calmed my senses.

I nestled into a small booth in the corner of the place. It was unsurprisingly packed in there. Tons of students sat getting work done while fraying their nerves with cups of liquid energy. It was dark and plush in the shop. Velvet seating and dark looming bookshelves surrounded me. Royal purple drapes hung on the windows. I took the first sip of my chai latte and sighed, smiling softly.

The world was better at hours like this, I found. No one bothers you. The coffee shop, as busy as it was, felt like my own personal haven. I could sit in peaceful bliss, working away steadily on my laptop. At hours like this, the sky is dark, sparkling with the ethereal promise of a new day.

Sparkling. The word hung in my mind like how low smoke hangs and swirls around your head in a dark dive bar. What sparkles? I thought. How does love sparkle? It doesn't. But someone can. Someone you love.

That was all the inspiration I needed to get my poem done.

Previous Part | Next Part

#evan peters #evan peters fic #ahs #ahs coven #kyle spencer #kyle spencer fanfic

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hughjidiot · 11 months ago

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Hugh Jidiot's Weekly Whatever Blog #1

To kick off the new year, I've decided to bring back the Weekly Whatever. This was a series of posts where I'd ramble about anything and everything. I stopped when I joined Twitter and could do exactly the same thing there, but since I've left Twitter and will probably never go back, I figured I should start up the Weekly Whatever once more. My apologies if I've already shared any of these tidbits before.

Looking back on my life, I've noticed that my reading habits stretch all the way back to my childhood; my favorite genres are horror, mystery, fantasy and historical fiction, and my favorite book series as a kid were Goosebumps, The Boxcar Children, Deltora Quest and Magic Treehouse.

Going back to childhood, I was always a very creative person. Besides fiction writing I would also try my hand at nonfiction, poetry, songwriting, drawing and designing tabletop card and/or board games.

The last bit was inspired by my love of Yu-Gi-Oh, which I watched religiously as a kid. Fun fact: at the time I was unaware that the Duelist Kingdom arc was adapted from early on in the manga when the real life card game didn't yet exist and the author was basically making up the rules as he went along. So when I watched Yugi do things like have a monster stab the moon to control the tides during a duel or use Catapult Turtle to destroy a floating castle's magic ring and send it crashing down on his opponent's monsters, I felt like Bakura from Yu-Gi-Oh Abridged: "This card game is a load of bollocks!"

Goosebumps were my first ever chapter books I read as a child. My late uncle collected them, every time I'd visit my grandparents' I would go into his old room and marvel at the creepy titles and gruesome cover illustrations. Then one day when I was 7 I cracked open The Cuckoo Clock of Doom, read the whole thing in one sitting, and the rest was history.

It wasn't until I was 13 that I truly decided I wanted to be a writer, but even before then I was drawn to writing more than any of my other creative hobbies. In fifth grade my class had a creative writing assignment where we had to write a short story based on an illustration. The other kids had stories that were one or two pages long. Mine was seven.

I also had some more esoteric ways of expressing myself creatively. For example I really enjoyed minigolf as a kid, and for fun I would take some paper and draw up plans for my own minigolf course.

And that's all for now. Hopefully the two people who read these enjoyed learning a little more about myself. Peace from the heart, my friends.

#hugh jidiot rambles #hugh jidiot's weekly whatever

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simpingcowboy · 2 years ago

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Never-ending

Pairing: None, solo Marcus Moreno

Warnings: angst with a sweeter ending, lengthy discussions of grief/grieving, nightmares, death related guilt, widowing, loss of a parent

Word Count: 730+

Summary: On the week of his late wife's deathday, Marcus comes to an important realization in therapy.

A/N: I've alot of personal things going on this week, so enjoy my projecting onto Marcus Moreno. Inspired by this drawing! This quote has taken me a long way.

The grief was never-ending.

Marcus would roll over in the too big bed. Eyes still closed. Arm outstretched, reaching for a woman. His woman. He'd reach and reach. Frantically patting the bed. Searching for her. Frustration growing in his mind. As if he'd misplaced her. It's all your fault Marcus. His dream would taunt. Find her. He'd reach and- before his eyes even fully open. Marcus Moreno would find himself on the floor. Having rolled out of bed.

He'd sigh. Void of sorrow. Void of feeling. Just out of sheer exhaustion. A stinging reminder that he never got over her. That he likely never will. Marcus gets up from the floor, marking the occurrence in his journal. He's sure his therapist will ask why. Why four times this week has he woke up on the floor? To which Marcus will shrug. The answer is always different anyways. It does no good to ask why...

"Mr. Moreno, I think it'd be helpful to discuss why these events are happening. Are there any triggers? Are you stressed? Is something going on with Missy?"

A flower he thinks to himself.

I saw a flower Sunday. A flower she'd never see.

And then a tree with its autumn leaves on Tuesday. There'd been more Autumns without her than with.

Wednesday Missy laughed the way she did. And Missy didn't even know. She never heard her laugh.

Friday his hands felt cold. And there was no one there to warm them.

"I don't know exactly why." Marcus lies. He turns to look out the office window. "All I know is that it happens."

"And it's about her?"

"It's always about her." Marcus confirms. Everything was about her.

"And the rest of your week?" The therapist interrupts his train for thought.

"Sorry?"

"Outside of the events, how was your week?"

Marcus has to pause the scoff that threatens to leave his lips. It all seemed so frivolous without her and yet- "Monday…" On Monday, there was a potluck held at the PTA meeting. An unofficial tradition done on the week of her deathiversary. The smell of homemade tamales filled the air as long time friends reminisced on the early days of their children's youth. "Monday was nice." Marcus murmurs, an unrecognizable feeling building in his throat.

"Any other days?"

For a moment again, Marcus is silent. Mind shifting through the fog for an answer. "Y-yeah. Thursday I-" A young intern. Sweet, pretty thing. Ran into Marcus in the break room and said they'd noticed him looking down lately. And in a not so subtle manner offered him a box of burnt cookies and a card with their phone number on it. Told him to call if he's ever feeling lonely. Marcus chokes on a chuckle as he recalls the look on HR's face when she'd overheard the whole thing. And the hollar Miracle Guy let out when he recounted the story to him. 'at least you still got it!' Miracle Guy teased. "Thursday was a funny day." A small smile cracked on his face.

"And Saturday? Your wife's deathday?"

Marcus bites his inner lip. Eyes staring out the window, unable to bring himself fully into the room. "Saturday…" Saturday, he and Missy headed out to visit her grave. A tradition they'd done since the start. As they walked up over the hill, Marcus's sorrow was replaced with warmth. Warmth and love. Quiet tears escape out his eyes. Hot on his cheek. He reaches for a tissue from the table. Her grave had already been tended to. A ring of flowers encompassing her headstone. Various kinds, some in vases, wrapped in paper, placed in boxes. Cards scattered along the front. Missy's eyes went bright with joy, witnessing all the love for her mother. And Marcus? Well, "Saturday, I felt love. So much love…" he sniffles, just letting an odd kind of relief wash over him. The tears continue traversing down his cheeks as Marcus chases them with a tissue.

The therapist leans back, giving Marcus the space to cry.

Marcus looks up at his therapist through red glassy eyes "The grief doesn't end…does it?"

With a gentle smile, his therapist shakes their head. "No. Not always."

"But love…" Marcus crackles a smile. "Love doesn't end either?"

"No. The love never ends, Mr. Moreno."

Yes, the grief is never-ending but so is the warmth of breath and so are the strange ways love will find you again, again, again…

#Am writes #Marcus Moreno #Marcus Moreno angst #marcus moreno fanfic #marcus moreno fanfiction

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babyboywinchester · 5 months ago

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No one said incest is normal. In fact incest is very not normal and morally wrong and unacceptable. Everyone knows that and everyone understands that. If anyone were to actually say those words then there is something seriously wrong with them.

That being said… have you never enjoyed something of the gothic horror variety? A very common theme, nearly needed in that style, is incest. In fact Eric Kripke got inspiration for the two brothers from reading Richard Siken’s poems about two lovers and even wrote the guy fan mail over it. Supernatural, in the early seasons, is very American gothic and so the thought that people might take it a step further and ship those two… isn’t that big of stretch. I want to ask you where do you draw the line in your, apparently, morally superior fiction? Since you are the one that gets to decide… is sex before marriage okay? Is rape in a fictional sense okay? Is murder okay? Is cannibalism okay to read in fiction and be interested in?

I actually read a scene in Stephen King’s IT that horribly disturbed me when I read it. All the twelve year old kids have sex with each other in the sewers. It’s been literally years since I’ve read it and therefore I can’t remember what exactly it had to do with the plot of the book as a whole… but I was like wow that was weird as hell, Stephen. And guess what… I went about my day, even though I had such a horrified nearly physical reaction, I had to put the book down and do something else for awhile. Why? Because the thought of that happening was disgusting to me… as it would be for any normal person. I felt awful for the kids in the book. Guess what? It’s just a book. A very small part in the over one thousand pages that novel contains. It’s a horror novel about a fucking space clown spider that’s been alive since the dawn of time for Christ sake. And all of it? Fiction.

If we’re only allowed to consume media that’s morally “pure” and right it’s rather bleak and boring and it also blinds us to what life truly is. Those things happen in real life every fucking day. It’s gory, it’s visceral, it’s pain, agony, selfish, and I could go on and on and on.

If people want to enjoy things in fiction that they would never engage with in real life? It hurts no one. I love Stephen Kings novels even though they can be gory and overly detailed. I’m not going to capture a dude from a car wreck and smash his legs with a sledge hammer to keep him locked in my house with me now am I? Fucking no, because I have a brain and I know right from wrong and I know what is socially and societally acceptable.

Game of Thrones is big on incest when it comes to the Targaryen family… as a lot of royal houses in real life engaged in real life incest to keep bloodlines pure. That’s not okay, but that shit did happen a long time ago. I’d even venture to say you probably have some ancestors that were maybe third cousins at best. The world was a lot smaller back then anyhow.

Your argument is also so woefully simplistic and easily refutable that I wonder if you just regurgitate talking points without really thinking about it before hand or if you’ve truly stopped to think about what you say… hard telling. So, you’d be of the belief that if people say… play violent video games that means they’re going to become a school shooter? If someone loves true crime or horror novels like myself… am I going to go out and murder people? No, because people are able to separate fiction from reality and what is acceptable and what is not… those of us who cannot are the ones that go out and ACTUALLY engage in those things and they aren’t good people.

I’m begging you to actually gain some media literacy before you go spouting off on the internet about topics you truly know nothing about. Incest is awful, horrible, and abusive.

Shipping a fictional ship like wincest? Hurts no one. Abuses no one. Is horrible to no one. No one needs this purity culture of yours and I beg you to learn. This younger generation seems hellbent on censoring themselves to the point that 1984 by George Orwell doesn’t seem that far fetched. Use the brain you were born with and don’t vomit up brain dead takes like this on the internet. Or do… because at the end of the day if you want to lock yourself into the puritanical box here and preach on your little tumblr soap box about how you’re so much better… have at. Life is going to be so hard and scary for you if you react to all the things bad and horrible like this. Life is full of these real life things and it is important to be reminded of that lest we forget.

Keep that shit out of the wincest tag though. It’s generally a very good rule of thumb to not directly be a shit bag in the tag. There’s an anti tag for that. Also, if you find something like that so abhorrent you seem hellbent to be engaging with it… which to me speaks volumes about yourself more than anything. If you don’t like something scroll, block, or hit the back button. Assholes like you on the internet are typically what make the internet insufferable.

Godspeed to you.

The entitlement from wincest shippers is actually bananas. Y’all. What made you think incest is normal???? Please get help 😭😭 I’m worried 😭😭

#wincest #sam winchester #dean winchester #spn #sam and dean #supernatural #OP you are an adult #So do better

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tngrace · 2 years ago

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Cry, Baby

Story inspired by real life events and this song, “Cry Baby” by Mitchell Tenpenny.

I have to thank my discord babes so much for listening to me the last couple of days, and for reading over this last night when I wrote it like a madwoman that just had to get it out. There might be more stories for Spicy & Roo one day in the future; I truly loved writing them & I hope yall enjoy it.

Discord babes: @callsign-dragonbaron @mrsjaderogers @bayisdying @biehnybaby @askmarinaandothers @mischief-siriusly-managed @cycbaby @callsignscupcake @breadsquash

Grace “Spicy” Bradshaw stared at the shower floor as tears cascaded down her cheeks. She was using the water to muffle the sounds of her sobs so they didn’t wake her husband just yet. Bradley had to be up in an hour to go to class, and she wanted to let him sleep as long as possible. She’d been so hopeful that today would bring the news they’d been hoping for, but instead it just brought the same disappointment the last year and a half has brought. She felt like she was letting Bradley down tremendously, and truthfully she wanted to tell him he deserved better.

She should’ve known he’d come find her when she was up earlier than expected, but it still surprised her when the door opened. “Spice? Babe? You’re up early?”

She quickly wipes her eyes and clears her throat; “Yea, yea I woke up early. Decided to just go ahead and get ready. Didn’t mean to get you up so early.”

“Mind if I join?”

She sucks in a deep breath and holds it; she turns her face into the spray despite knowing her eyes will be red and puffy anyways. “Yea, come on in.”

Bradley gets in behind her and pulls her back into his chest. His chin rests on top of her head as he holds her, letting the warm spray wash over them. “Grace,” he whispers. He only uses her real name when it’s something serious, always using her nickname or some version of it. Slider had given her the nickname based on the food and spice level of it when she took over the grill at the Hard Deck ten years ago.

She sinks into his hold, biting her lip hard enough to almost draw blood. “Talk to me baby.” She shakes her head no as more tears fall down her cheeks.

“I …. Can’t. I…. I just knew this time was going to be different.”

Bradley’s arms tighten around her; he knows right then that despite thinking she’d finally gotten pregnant, she had in fact not. “We’ll just keep trying.”

“Bradley…. You….”

“Don’t say it Grace. Don’t say I deserve better.” He finally spins her, but her eyes drop to his chest and his dog tags unable to meet his eyes. He gently tips her chin up, and her eyes close, tears sneaking out around her lids. He cradles her face between both of his large hands, his thumbs gently wiping the tears away.

“Open your beautiful eyes, Spicy.”

Her breath shudders out, but her eyes slowly open to meet the chocolate brown ones she loves so much. “I love you, and only you. I want you, and only you. If this is all we have, just me and you, we will be ok. But we also still have options. We’re going to try those meds and if that doesn’t work, then we look at other possibilities. I know for a fact if we went to Dad, Uncle Ice, any of the many Uncles and Aunts in our family, we could have the help to make any option possible. This sucks, I know; I know you’re feeling crushed, and today is going to be rough and full of lots of tears. But you, my dear beautiful girl, are all I want, so don’t tell me to find anyone else.”

Spicy collapses against his chest and just cries as he holds her as tight as possible, letting the water keep them warm. Bradley holds her tight, murmuring over and over how much he loves her, how much he’s there for her, how much she can cry to him anytime. Once the water starts cooling off, he washes her hair and runs some conditioner through it before quickly scrubbing his own while she stays wrapped around him. Once they’re both clean, he wraps a towel around his waist and goes to the bedroom to get dressed, letting her have the bathroom to do what she needs. She takes a few minutes to try and compose herself, but it doesn’t work. The tears don’t seem to want to stop. She slips into a pair of shorts and one of Bradley’s t-shirts she’d grabbed on her way to the bathroom that morning.

He’s sitting on the side of the bed waiting on her. She carefully settles in his lap, facing him, with her legs around his waist. She rests her head under his chin, her fingers tangling in his dog tags. “You’re going to make the best Dad one day, and I wish I could make that happen for you, more than anything,” she whispers.

His arms rub up and down her back as he holds her close. “We’re going to get that one day, I promise you, Spicy girl.”

They stayed cuddled like that until Bradley has to get ready for class. He tucks Spicy into bed, “Text me or call me if you need anything today. And I’m sure Pen can manage just fine if you don’t want to go in tonight.”

“Don’t worry; I’ll be ok. I’m not going to cancel on her last minute. I’ll be fine once I’m distracted.”

“Promise me if you’re not, you’ll stay here or come get me.”

She gives him a soft smile and a kiss. “I promise Roo. Now go before you’re late.”

Bradley reluctantly leaves; he wants to text his dad or his uncles to go check on her later, but he also knows what it’s meant to her to keep this a secret to keep the pressure lower on them. He’s glad he doesn’t have a hop that day because his head stays with his girl all day.

Spicy spends the morning in bed, and heads into the Hard Deck around lunch. Penny can tell something is wrong, but she also doesn’t push. She texts Bradley to see what’s going on, but all he’ll tell her is to keep an eye on her. Spicy spends the majority of the day in the kitchen, and when Bradley arrives after class, waving to his uncles and dad in the back corner, he heads straight into the kitchen to check on her.

“Roo,” she smiles, leaning up for a kiss. The kitchen hasn’t been too busy that day, and Bradley can tell she’d deep cleaned everything to keep her mind busy.

“Ready for a break? Dad, Ice, Sli, Chip, Wolf and Wood have the back corner claimed.”

“Roo, I…”

“Penny says you’ve been in here all day, and the kitchen is sparkling.” Spicy sighs as she leans into Roo’s embrace.

“You’re right I’ve been hiding. But I’ve been thinking. Your insurance covered the tests and meds, and I know it’s been a lot on you not sharing with everyone.”

“Grace..”

“No, let me finish.” At Bradley’s nod she continues. “We’ve gotten lucky not having to pay for what we’ve done so far, but if this doesn’t work, we could be forking out more money than we need to on our own. We don’t know how much longer we’re going to be on this journey. You’re a very open person with your family, and I love that. And I know I’ve had you keeping this a secret, and I know there are times you’ve wished you could talk to someone about it. So maybe we should tell them.”

Bradley wraps her in his arms. “You’re just doing this for me, and I know it.”

“I do everything for you Bradley Nicholas. I’d give you the whole world if I could.”

“I’d do the same for you Grace Michelle.” Spicy leans up and kisses Bradley soundly. She lets him take her apron off and hang it up, before telling her assistant that she was done for the night. Spicy wrapped her hand in his, and let him pull her to the back corner where their family was waiting.

Spicy takes the open seat beside Mav, Bradley’s dad instantly pulling her into a side hug, while Bradley pulls up a stool on her other side. As per usual they start off by complimenting the snacks she’d sent their way, before they observe them both. Bradley is telling them about his class that day, but it’s Slider who picks up on Spicy’s quietness. It’s almost like she was still the shy girl they’d met when she’d moved there, instead of the confident outgoing girl she’d become in her ten years in San Diego. He shoots a look at Ice and then Mav before turning his attention back to her.

“B, you’re rambling,” Ice finally says, all of them catching the soft sigh he lets out.

“Yea… Yea I am.” He laces his hand with Spicy’s, giving it a squeeze, before he meets six pairs of worried eyes.

“I’ve had him keeping a secret from yall,” Spicy says, before Bradley can say anything.

“Grace…”

“No B, it’s true.” She finally looks around the table. “We’ve been trying for a baby for a year and a half now, and I didn’t want him to tell anyone because I knew it wouldn’t be easy for us to get pregnant because of me. I didn’t want anyone to get their hopes up just to be crushed over and over.”

She feels Mav’s arm sling across her shoulder and squeeze her tight to his side. He’s been like a dad to her ever since she started dating Roo and realized he was essentially Bradley’s dad too. “Oh kiddo,” he sighs, placing a kiss on her head. Bradley doesn’t let go of her hand, but doesn’t miss how she practically melts into the hug.

She takes another steadying breath and pulls herself upright once more. “My doctor ran some tests about a couple of weeks ago, and in two days I’m going to be starting meds. If after three months they haven’t helped, then we have to either look at other options or give up. This… This morning was rough and there were a lot of tears, but I’ve spent the majority of the afternoon hiding in the kitchen and cleaning and thinking. I know it’s been hard on B keeping this a secret from yall and everyone basically, so I decided we needed to confess.”

In the next instant she is pulled up off the stool into a crushing group hug from their family. Bradley is wrapped in one next, before everyone settles back into their seats. Spicy laughs as she wipes tears off her cheeks, laying her head on Bradley’s shoulder, giving his hand a squeeze. “We’re here for anything, we mean anything, you two might need. No matter how big or small.”

“Thanks, Dad,” Bradley smiles over Spicy’s head. He knew they’d be understanding, but he also understood Spicy’s fears. They spend the next hour explaining her health woes and what all her doctor has recommended. When Spicy starts falling asleep, worn out from all her cleaning and emotional turmoil, Bradley pulls her into his lap.

“Get her home son. We can talk more when you’re both ready,” Mav promises.

“Thanks Dad.” Bradley scoops her up carefully, Ice following him to help with doors, promising to bring her car home for them. Spicy never stirs, and once home, Bradley tucks her into bed.

Three months later

Spicy is staring at the sink, not moving, not blinking, not even really breathing. The knock on the door startles her enough to cause her jump and squeak. “Spicy? You ok love?”

She opens the door, and Bradley instantly assumes she’s started, late, again. “Oh baby, we can…” but that’s as far as he gets before she’s jumping up and kissing him. He instantly catches her, her legs wrapping around his waist.

“Spice?”

“Roo it finally worked,” she whispers, staring into those chocolate eyes. “It worked! Congratulations Daddy.”

“You’re serious?”

She points at the sink, where five positive pregnancy tests lay. “I’ve done one every morning for the last five days because I didn’t believe them. We’re finally having a baby.”

A week later when they finally have an ultrasound to confirm, they learn that one of the major side effects from the meds happened; they’re having twins. Two and half months pass before Spicy is comfortable telling everyone. Mav and all the uncles knew because Bradley had been way too excited not to tell them, but they’d all kept the secret like she’d asked. Now that she’s showing and well into her second trimester, the ‘86 flyboys plan a huge party at the Hard Deck to celebrate. Spicy and Roo are showered in so much love and excitement, that all the pain of trying slowly melts away. She can’t wait to see Bradley as a daddy and all their family being wrapped around the babies’ fingers.

#bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley rooster bradshaw fic #grace spicy bradshaw #spicy x roo #bradley rooster bradshaw x oc #post top gun maverick #post tgm #top gun maverick fic #tgm fic #86 flyboys #found family #tw: infertility #tw: trying to concieve #happy ending #mav is bradleys dad #my writing #song fic #Spotify

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the-witty-pen-name · 4 years ago

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The Nanny Pt. 3

Lee Bodecker x Nanny!F!Reader

18+

Word Count: 3.3k

Warnings: alcohol/drinking, food, corrupt cop, mentions of prostitution/smut, implied age gap (reader is in her 20s), cursing, mentions of serial killers/murder, mutual pining,

Summary:

Based on this Request: The reader moves to Meade/Knockemstiff while answering an advertisement for a nanny in the paper. We learn that the ad was posted by Sandy, who has the reader watch her child whenever she and Carl leave to do their secret thing. After one of these trips, Sandy and her husband never return, so the reader is left caring for their baby. With the new investigation into these events, she meets Sandy’s brother Lee, the older, out of shape, alcoholic bachelor, and they are suddenly thrown into each others lives as he begins looking into his sister’s disappearance. Through it all, Lee starts to fall for her, and they slowly become a family.

A/N: I got inspired re-watching one of my favorite shows and I want to know if anyone else gets the reference I’m using! If I missed anything I should include as a warning that I missed please let me know! This is also unedited!

Taglist Form is in my bio!

Series Masterlist

Your shoulders tensed listening to the radio in the morning. Sitting on your ottoman, you were painting your nails, using the coffee table as your nail station. It was a really bright morning, and you had the curtains pulled open to draw in light. Julie frantically rushed between her room and the bathroom getting ready for her shift at the diner. The newest single from The Beach Boys was playing through the little counter top radio, but at the top of the hour, the melodies playing through the speaker changed to the news. The top story of the morning was chilling.

“Jules,” you said, calling her over hesitantly, putting the cap back on the bottle of polish. “Come listen to this.”

She scurried out of her room while working to tie her apron in the back, and then she stood next to where you sat to listen to the story on the news. The color drained from her face as you both listened to the reporter describe the horrific scene that was under investigation early this morning.

Roy Laferty was an evangelical preacher whose body washed up by the lake very early that same morning. The news report talked about the police investigation, and also disclosed his wife Helen, is also reported missing. They are looking into the disappearance of Helen, as well as opening a full investigation on Laferty’s murder. They also urge individuals with any information regarding the two to call the Sheriff’s department and to provide a statement.

“That’s horrifying,” you mumble, shocked as you try to process the news. Julie nods in agreement but strangely doesn’t seem nearly as affected by the news as you.

“It’s happening again,” she mutters, obviously concerned but her lack of surprise worries you.

“What do you mean again?” you ask.

“There was a string of unexplained murders, all men, like this newest one,” Julie explained, “This was all over the news like two years ago- can’t believe you hadn’t heard about it.” All you could do was shrug; this was all new to you. “Obviously, there was nothing linking their deaths, but there were these five killings a couple of years ago that are still unsolved. There’s no evidence, but the town rumors it was like a serial killer or something. Nothing is confirmed, of course, just a story.”

“What makes people think it was all the same person?” you ask, hesitantly.

“All the people were always the same type,” she shrugs, “Men all in their 20s and 30s. Again, there’s nothing linking them all together. It’s just talk.”

You clicked off the radio, and didn’t know what to do with yourself. Julie patted your shoulder, comfortingly but she had to go on with her day. So did you, and you almost her ability to move about the apartment almost unfazed by the news. You suppose it makes sense, her growing up here she’s probably used to it. You didn’t have the experience or the thick skin she had.

You had decided to go to the library, still preoccupied by the news segment as well as the things Julie had told you about the Sheriff. You spent the better half of the morning looking at the library’s archives of old newspapers. You wanted to read more about the unsolved cases Julie had told you about, so there you sat for several hours looking through the microfilm reader. You even stumbled upon articles that featured the Sheriff.

There he was plain as day on the front page when it was announced he had won the election the first time he ran several years back. You couldn’t help but notice the changes in his appearance and demeanor compared to the man you keep running into. He was a little slimmer, and he looked a lot happier, a little fuller of life, you decided was a good way to explain it. His smile was wider, and you could see the difference in his eyes as well. It was seeing how he was before the stress of the job began to take its heavy toll. He had on the same leather jacket as well, you were fairly certain, even though the one in the photograph hung a little looser.

You continued to skim through articles, piecing your way through the history of Knockemstiff. Little articles in black and white that persevered the history of this dark little town. You were beginning to realize this backwater town was a lot more tangled and complex than you originally believed. It was a tangled history, riddled with crime and unclosed cases, that people seem to have either forgotten or choose to ignore for their own sake. Your mind wandered back to the things Julie had told you about the Sheriff and him being corrupt. You wonder how much of what you read about linked back to him. Though you imagine if he has any sort of political connection, which a man like him must have, the things he was involved in probably didn’t even make it into the paper. The thought made you physically shiver.

You put the large leather portfolios of archives you took and put them back into their proper place on the self chronologically. You grabbed your sweater from the back of your chair, and pushed the chair back into place. Looking up at the clock on the wall, it was only just one in the afternoon. You decided to head down to the diner and grab a bite, and also visit Julie during her second shift. It was a short walk from the library to the diner. Everywhere felt like a short walk here, probably because everything in downtown was not much bigger than a few blocks. The majority of people lived far from the center of town, on their own land and farms.

The little bell on the door rang when you stepped in and Julie waved at you from behind the counter and pointed for you to grab an empty table in her section. You put your bag on the table and took a seat. It was a fairly busy time, most people who worked at the surrounding businesses coming in for their lunch break. Julie brought you over a coffee and then said she’d be back to chat when she got to take her five.

Lee hadn’t been able to go home since the phone call. The symptoms of his hangover were worsening and he was growing more irritable. His five o’clock shadow was still evident on his tired face and his head was pounding. He tried his best to just power through it but the sound of anyone trying to talk to him just made his ears ring.

After leaving the scene, he had to stop by his office and then he was on the phone for the better part of an hour fielding calls from frantic citizens not only of Knockemstiff but also Meade, where Laferty was from. Despite how horribly he felt, he tried his best to keep his temper level and just reassure people he had things under control. He was losing his patience.

He opened up his desk drawer and grabbed his bottle of asprin. Empty. He threw it into the small waste bin and got up abruptly grabbing his jacket off the hook and storming out. He didn’t tell anyone he was leaving and he didn’t care. It was a short walk to the drugstore from the station and he wouldn’t be five minutes. He just needed to do something to stop his head from hurting.

“Afternoon, Sheriff,” the pharmacist greeted when he walked in. He nodded his head upwards briefly to reply without having to talk. He just needed to get in and out. She went back to whatever she was working on when he came in, and he browsed the aisles for what he needed. After paying and walking out, he glanced in the direction of the diner when he was crossing the street. There you were, again. Sitting alone and chatting with the waitress that was refilling your coffee.

He let out a heavy sigh, and then continued walking. He didn’t want you to see him like this, hungover, unshaved, wrinkled uniform and heavy undereye bags from his lack of sleep. You looked- well, Lee thought you were the prettiest thing he’s seen in a while, maybe ever. There was something about you he couldn’t pinpoint. Maybe it was just because you weren’t from here. You were a fresh face, and not ruined by this town. There was a sweetness and an innocence in how you talked to him, because you didn’t know him like the rest of people here did. He liked that.

Even when he left the station for the day, he couldn’t even go home yet. He had a meeting at the bar with one of Brown’s lackeys. He was just supposed to collect his cut so he couldn’t imagine it would take long, but he was still annoyed. Stepping into the bar he looked around as he took off his hat. It was a little more crowded tonight then when he was here last. The red curtain was closed and his eyes lingered there for a moment before directing his attention to the man he recognized who was waving him over.

“Sheriff,” the man greets and Lee slides into the booth across from him.

“Hayward,” he replies. Without even needing to order, the bartender comes over bringing them a bottle of scotch and two glasses.

“You ever go back there?” Hayward asks, watching as a girl came out and brought a man behind the curtain who had been waiting at the bar.

“No,” Lee scoffs.

“They are amazing,” Hayward says, almost giddy. Lee feels sympathy towards the poor woman who had to take care of him. Lee doesn’t acknowledge the statement and just empties his glass and begins to pour himself a second.

“So, my cut?” Lee asks. Hayward frowns and goes into the breast pocket of his sports coat and pulls out an envelope of cash.

“You aren’t getting full,” the man says when Lee cocks a brow at the thinness of the envelope.

“Still?” Lee asks, pissed. Hayward nods. Lee’s jaw clenches.

“You didn’t keep things tidy on your end,” Hayward reminds him, “You got one job. Keep the cops out of our territory. We had two cruisers drive through last week. The only reason you’re getting anything at all is cause you managed to keep your people off us when we did the exchange with Deckard’s crew.”

The man finishes his drink, and then slaps the empty glass on the table. He pulls out his own envelope, which is much thicker than Lee’s and drops down more than enough for the drinks. He chuckles condescendingly and tells the Sheriff to get a dance. Fuck that. Lee takes the extra money and plans to just put it right in his pocket and go home. He finishes his third scotch and suddenly his headache was back. He felt worse than he did earlier today.

“What can I do for you, Sheriff?” a feminine voice asks, making him break his line of thought. He looks to his side and he recognizes her as one of the girls he sees bringing men to the back room, behind the velvet curtain. He shakes his head, and instead of leaving him alone, she slides into the booth next to him. Her hand grazes over his thigh. “You seem awful tense, Sheriff,” she says and then bites her lip.

He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t tempted. He knows she doesn’t actually want him, and it’s just an attempt to get him to spend money in the backroom. If he doesn’t focus his already hazing vision, maybe she could vaguely remind him of you. He can’t do it, but he wants to. Her hand moves up his leg and he pulls away. He adjusts his pants and she shrugs.

“Maybe next time then,” she winks before walking away. He rests his head back on the vinyl seat and sighs. He grabs his hat and jacket, leaving before he changes his mind. “Ask for Cherry when you come in, yeah?” she calls when he walks out.

You are just everywhere. You’re in his head and he doesn’t even know you. He needs to sleep, desperately, and part of him in the back of his mind hopes you’ll be there. When he wakes up, he doesn’t remember.

“Have you heard about the Church fundraiser coming up?” Julie asks. You shake your head. “It’s a pretty big deal here. Everyone participates.”

“What is it?” you ask, kicking off your slippers so you can sit crisscross on the couch.

“Bid-On-A-Basket,” she says casually, like it’s the most obvious thing.

“Never heard of it,” you reply, “It sounds fun. What is it?”

“All us single gals put together a picnic basket with everything for a lunch,” she explains, “and then all the eligible bachelors bid on the basket and a date with the girl who made it. Last year, the dreamiest guy, Bill Whittier, bought mine- it’s so fun. Me and Bill didn’t work out but it was a good time.”

“I don’t know anyone here,” you say hesitantly.

“Perfect way to get a date then,” she teases. You bite your lip. You aren’t sure about this.

“And what if some creep is the highest bidder?” you counter.

“You get a bad date story for your next date?” she poses. “Please,” she begs, “It’s for a good cause, all the money this year is going to help the Sunday school.”

“What if no one bids on it?” You rebut.

“Look at yourself,” she scoffs, “you’ll get bids. Trust me.” You roll your eyes.

“I’ll think about it,” you say finally. She smirks, completely planning to wear you down.

“Remember it’s for the kids,” she reasons, “It wouldn’t hurt to go and participate.”

“I said I’ll think about it,” you laugh.

Time passes and soon enough you get another call from Sandy, and you are suddenly back to taking care of Valerie. You had missed her, a lot actually. You definitely have gotten attached to her, and you think you’ve grown on her too. Sandy was vague this time for how long they’d be gone, but since the previous time went so smoothly, you didn’t worry about it.

About a week after Sandy and Carl left this time, there was another disturbing news report. You were sitting on the floor, changing Valerie and you had the television playing softly in the background. The news told the story of another body, this time found in the woods off of the highway. You finish changing the baby and hold her close, her little chin resting on your shoulder as you watch the news story. It was just like Julie had talked about. Another man, thirty years old. He was shot and his body abandoned. You jump at the knock at the front door.

You peep through the curtains, and you see the Sheriff waiting on the front porch. You wonder if he knows you’re there. Part of you almost wishes he knows it you here and he wanted to see you. It’s incredibly stupid on your part and you know better, but nonetheless, part of you hoped he came here for you. Very stupid. With Valerie on your hip, you open the door.

“I’m sorry, darling,” he says walking into the house. He stops in front of you and presses a kiss to Valerie’s forehead and she squeals happily seeing Lee. You close the door with your foot. “May I?” he asks, and opens his arms. You agree, based on Valerie’s reactions to him whenever she sees him. He takes her in his arms, and she starts playing with his tie. He loosens it so she can play with it and not choke him.

“What can I do for you, Sheriff?” you ask. He reacts in a way in a way you can’t really read, but you don’t press.

His mind just goes back to the woman a couple weeks back in the brothel who asked him the same thing, and that his mind immediately had gone to you. He just clears his throat and snaps himself out of that thought process.

“Um, I just came by to see Sandy,” he says, “But I can fathom a guess that she’s not here?”

“Excellent deduction,” you joke, and he smirks. Valerie has his tie in her mouth and is covering it in drool. He doesn’t even seem to care.

“Are you okay?” he asks, and you nod. “You looked a little scared when you answered.”

“Just watching the news before you showed up is all,” you explain, “They were talking about how there was another man found dead.”

“Ain’t got nothing to worry about,” he says, “We’re on top of it. I’m on my way over there now.”

“Can I ask you something?” you ask hesitantly.

“Of course, darling.”

“My friend, you probably know her- Julie Grady.”

“Yeah, nice kid,” he says, listening but gently pulling his tie from Valerie’s grasp. She starts playing with the flap of the pocket of his jacket.

Kid. You almost grimace. That’s right. Of course, Lee would view someone your age that way. You weren’t. You chastise yourself for even caring, but you decide to continue. You shouldn’t care how he sees you.

“Yeah- well, she told me there have been others,” you continue, “I also read up about it, just the newspapers at the library- but she said people thought it was some kind of serial killer… I just, I want to know what you think.”

“I don’t think know,” he answers honestly, a little taken aback, not expecting you to approach him with something this serious. “I doubt it,” he explains, “Serial killers stay close to home. Now those cases you read about, and these two we are looking at- they sound close together but logistically, they aren’t really. Two of those unsolved were in completely different states- just like this new one.”

“So, no traveling serial killer?” you chuckle, trying to sound lighthearted. He chuckles and shakes his head.

“Most people like that stay in one area,” Lee explains, “They work jobs, they have a home, you know? They tend to stay near where they live.”

“That makes me feel much better,” you answer honestly.

“You got nothing to worry about, and that’s a promise,” he grins, although he supposes coming from him that probably doesn’t mean much. Regardless, it makes you smile.

“Are you sure I can’t get you anything?” you offer again. He bites his lip, taking a moment to think.

“Sandy keeps a bag of candy in her cabinet,” he says, walking into the kitchen with you following close behind. He passes Valerie off to you and he chuckles under his breath at the state of his tie. He reaches up in the cabinet and pulls down a brown paper bag, filled with taffies and chocolates.

Something about this man who has a whole time scared of him playing with his niece and then stealing sweets from the cupboard is something you find so strangely endearing. He unwraps one of the brightly colored taffies and then puts the bag in his pocket.

“I gotta go,” he announces, “let me know if you hear from Sandy, yeah?”

“Of course,” you reply.

“Gonna head out to that scene, and do my report,” he discloses, not really sure why he’s telling you. “Then I have a meeting at the rectory about that fundraiser thing. Figure out security.”

“They need security at Bid-On-A-Basket?” you ask, with an eyebrow raised. He smiles.

“You going?” he asks, flirtatiously.

“Just seems weird to have police at a Church thing.”

“There’s been stupid fights,” he shrugs, “some guy will get outbid and cause a fuss. Nothing serious. Probably just gonna be me and a deputy in case. You going?”

“I don’t know, maybe,” you say sheepishly. “Why?”

He walks towards the front door, and you follow seeing him out.

“Cause I gotta know if I’ll be bidding on a basket,” he winks.

“You gonna start a fight if you don’t win it?” you joke.

“If it’s yours? Absolutely, darling.”

Taglist:

@adelaide-walker @thedepressolit @samanthadegaro @pyronack @greeneyedblondie44 @acciosiriusblack @weenersoldierr @teenagemutant @witchybarb @iraot @my-love-darling @hold-me-like-a-heart-beat @swiftieandthewintersoldier @letsfly-andbe-free @rebekahdawkins @stiles-stilinski-24-dylan @hersilencedscreams @unsaltedalmonds @dangerdolns @vintagepigeon @bluebouquetcupcake29 @goslytherin @captainofallfandoms @buckistan @aynanasstuff @everything-is-all-clear @rosalynshields @tinynshykitten

#lee bodecker #lee bodecker imagine #lee bodecker fic #lee bodecker x reader #lee bodecker x you #the devil all the time #sebastian stan characters #lee bodecker x y/n #lee bodecker x f!reader #lee bodecker smut #slow burn #mystery #lee bodecker oneshot

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xuxishortcake · 4 years ago

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ɴᴏᴡ ᴘʟᴀʏɪɴɢ

John Mayer - Your body is a wonderland

¹:⁰³ ──♡──────³:³⁰

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 : your boyfriend, Taeyong has been worn out due to working hard on his latest comeback & you just wanna appreciate him & tell him how much you love him <3

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 | 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬 : sub!idol Dom!reader smut , angst ? some pretty cute fluff : 3, cursing , cream pie, cunninilingus, handjob , blowjob , praising

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 : 1.7k

hey everyone! this is my first official ff, so pardon me if there's Grammer errors, spelling mistakes, etc. I got inspired to write this while listening to "your body is a wonderland." I just love the soft, morning sex feel of the song & wanted to turn it into a ff. I'm not sure if I'll be an active poster , but I did have fun while writing this & making up stories is a hobby of mine so we'll see. feedback is very appreciated, & enjoy!! :3

♡　♥　♡　♥　♡　♥　♡　♥　♡　♥

it was a pleasant Sunday morning & you woke up a little earlier than usual to the sound of birds chirping. You rubbed your eyes to adjust to the light streaming through the semi transparent curtains. next to you, lay your peacefully asleep boyfriend, Taeyong. {damn,} you thought, {even while sleeping he's just breathtaking to look at. God really does have favorites huh.} it made you smile to see him look so tranquil.

the night before, he came in the apartment quite fatigued since he had been out all day, practicing for his group's newest comeback.

"hey bubu," you said as you stood up from the couch you were sat at. you walked over & you hugged him. "how was everything today? any new progress?"

"mmm, everything's going along well, just a little tired because the recording session was a bit hard. I'm just glad to be back home & hugging you." he said while putting his head in the crook of your neck.

"you seem tired, baby." you reply, moving your fingers through his hair "want me to make you some tea maybe?"

"yeah, that'd be great. I'm just gonna go lay down on the bed for a bit. " he smiled tiredly, putting his backpack & shoes next to the door.

you went into the kitchen to get a kettle onto the stove. once it started boiling, you poured it into two small mugs for the both of you, added the tea bags & stirred in some honey. you left for the bedroom & came in to see Tae curled up, fast asleep on the bed. you sighed, a bit sad & put down the cups onto the night stand next to the bed & sat down besides him. you glanced at the clock on top of the night stand, 9:55 PM. makes sense he was tired, he left pretty early in the morning. however, you wanted to talk to him at least for a little bit more since it felt like the two of you hadn't had a conversation or even really cuddled in so long for his job was keeping him very occupied. sure you both texted back & forth while you could, but it just didn't feel the same as actually being there together. it wasn't too long before his comeback would be present, but then again, he'd be busy with promotions. a bit crestfallen, you slipped out of your clothes, went to get washed & had gotten into bed.

back to the present, you were thinking of how nice it was just to be close to him & know you could finally have a day where you could both just enjoy each other's company. you knew you wanted to do some extra special caring for him. knowing how he's been so hard at work was a sign he's in need of some extra special lovin'. you felt like you hadn't been able to tell him how much you loved & appreciated him, & now, you felt like you could finally do it. you snuggled up closer to him, gently put your hand onto his face & started caressing him. Taeyong 's nose scrunched & his eyes fluttered open.

"good morning bubu. " you said, continually stroking his cheek with the tips of your fingers. "sleep well?"

taeyong smiled & stretched a bit. "yeah, I feel well rested. how about you?"

"same same. I'm just glad you don't have to go anywhere today. I've missed being able to be with you. "

"I'm sorry I fell asleep so quickly last night y/n. I just wanted to lie down since I felt so drowsy but I dozed off like an idiot & didn't get to talk to you while I had the chance. I feel so bad since I feel I've been terrible at spending time with you & actually being a boyfriend. " he looked down glumly.

"no, baby, it's fine. it's understandable since you've been going pretty hard lately, & we have all day today so : )" you assured him pressing a small kiss on his forehead.

you smiled & held his cheeks between your hands & kissed his lips ever so gently. he kissed back, & you started to kiss back a little bit harder. before you knew it, things were starting to get really heated. you had slid your tongue over his lips as an ask to come in, & he happily let you in. that cute little bubblegum tongue of his sure knew how to get you riled up, cause damn, was he a good kisser. tongues playing harmoniously while softly panting. you broke out of the deep kissing to kiss his cheek & then started to leave kisses all along his sharp jawline. you climbed on top of him & worked your way down his neck, leaving a plush trail of kisses with him sighing softly. your hands trailed down his stomach & onto his forming hard on. starting to slowly stroke his covered bulge, you now moved your lips to his nipple, giving a few light licks, giving you great joy to hear the sweet little whimpers that were coming out of his mouth. you started to work faster with your tongue & hand. you lightly dragged your tongue down his abdomen & hooked your fingers around the waistband of his boxers & pulled them off. his cock sprung up & slapped against his stomach. the tip was sore & red, glistening with precum, which made you lick your lips in anticipation. slowly, you started to stroke it,from the base & squeezing a bit once you came to the top. you began to pick up the pace, taking in your boyfriend's pretty flushed face, begging you to touch him more.

"fuck tae, your body is like a wonderland. you're so beautiful. "

he started blushing at the compliments, hand slightly against his mouth , & that just made you want to do more. you stopped stroking his length & he whined at the lack of friction, trying to buck his hips in the air. however, you had a firm grip on his left thigh & wouldn't let him. you moved further down his body, until your head was in between his thighs. you started leaving kisses & bites all along his inner thighs. reaching to his dick, you placed a quick kiss on the tip & started giving a few kitten licks.

"fuck y/n,you're such a tease. " taeyong panted out.

"I'm just trying to savor every moment of this baby ♡" you said smirking since you knew what you were doing to him.

finally, you took him whole & he groaned out loud. bobbing your head up & down, his tip sometimes reaching the back of your throat, making you moan & send out vibrations, which made him moan right back . chest heaving & eliciting pretty moans , his back was slightly arched & his hips were pushed up a bit, but you made sure he was held put. he practically melted by your hands, & it was amazing to feel you had this much power over him. you could tell he was reaching his limit, & you got off of him with a *pop*. you were about to position himself into your entrance when he grabbed your wrist.

"no....not yet. I want you to feel good too. please, sit on my face. "

"ok, I'll let you since you've been a pretty good boy." you say as you crawl up onto him. you lower yourself slowly above his face & he holds your thighs in place. he takes one long lick across your slit, savoring it as if it tastes like candy & starts eating you out like he'll never be able to do it again.

"you're so pretty, y/n" he says against you, nose deep into you.

"ah fuck, & you're so good at this tae." you say tugging onto his hair, trying tohold back moans.

the way he eats you out is unbearably good. his tongue, gliding along your vulva , up & down & making circle motions on your clit gets you feeling so high. you felt yourself coming to a reach, & taeyong could see it & started to go even faster. your thighs started to shake in the euphoric feeling & you held his hair as he continued lapping up your juices until you told him to stop. finally, you got down off of his face & positioned yourself. you lowered yourself down onto his firm cock. "ohhh" taeyong let out a deep groan, relieved he was finally getting attention on him again. you stretched your torso across to pin his hands above his head & slowly started to move, your hips going perpendicular. moving your head towards him, you went back in for more kissing. tongues entangling & beads of sweat falling down in between your foreheads. having a tight grip on both his hands, you started going at a quicker pace, drawing out more moans from tae.

"oh my god. I'm close, y/n." taeyong moaned out against your lips with his hands starting to tremble.

"ok baby. you can cum." you replied, increasing the movements of your hips & pushing your lips into a deeper kiss with his. you felt his thighs starting to quiver & his hips bucked up deeper into yours, warm cum spilling out from inside you. you both rode it out together until you started to pant. not moving anymore,you were still on him with a bit of cum dripping out of your pussy, creaminess covering his cock. you rose up & got some tissues to clean the both of you. after that, you laid down next to him. him turning to meet your face & his chest still rising.

"it doesn't matter how long we've been together, you still manage somehow to make my heart race with every breath you take." taeyong said, a bashful little smile creeping onto his face.

"well, you never fail to make me smile at your sappy commentary." you giggled, running your hands through his messy hair. "you're pretty cute too."

"I can't believe I get to date someone as angelic as you." he said, snuggling his head into your chest, arms wrapping around your waist.

"ha, you make my heart flutter, really. I'm so lucky to have you. " you cuddled him back, hands on the back of his head, gently caressing him.

"love you, y/n"

"love you too, yongie" you replied smiling, savoring the intimacy of the moment.

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babytaes · 3 years ago

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afterglow

➳ summary: You, too, lived in a colorless world, trying to connect with it. How long would you have to wait for that one to brighten it up and let you see the real world?

❥ pairing: wonwoo x female reader

❥ genre: angst, fluff, kinda soulmate au.....?

❥ word count: 7k (sorry, mans is my bias and I had to ;)

❥ warning: mentions of death.

➳ part of the song series

↳ Imagine a world like that,

We go like up 'til I'm 'sleep on your chest

Love how my face fits so good in your neck

You had a twin brother who was everything to you. Everything was always you two, from the endless amounts of laughter to the sneaky efforts to take Christmas cookies early in the morning.

With him, everything seems to be so colorful; in your lifetime, everyone was given a companion who may be a friend, sibling, or lover. It was simply something that you treasured. As a result, the alternatives were numerous.

You had no idea how much his life meant to you. He was your second half, and now you'd been split in half, with one gone and the other remaining.

Months passed, and your relationship with him became increasingly dimmer and dimmer. The brilliant hues faded in and out, with black and white patches becoming more prominent.

That awful day, unfortunately, was the last time you saw color. His light had faded from the world, and all that was left was black and white.

With him gone, your entire life seemed pointless, even your day-to-day existence. No splash of color to brighten things up.

“Y/N, I'll never forget you, big sister. Thank you for the enjoyable and considerate memories, and don't let this stunt your growth, please do that for me. As the beeper went off, he began to cough incessantly.

“Helpppp anyone.” As your parents draw you back into their arms, you hear many doctors rush into the room.

There was nothing they could do; his hue had vanished from this world. When you opened your tear-streaked eyes and examined your hands, you noticed that the formerly vivid cream palms had turned gray.

As if all colors were abruptly bleached out of the world, revealing a universe of whiteness—the rainbow, flowers, trees, and art, everything freshly bleached and pearled. The last vestige of color had vanished from your life, and you had been broken since then, heartbroken over the loss of your dearest friend.

“Y/n, hey you're good, we could use your help.” As you glanced to the side, you noticed that one of your employees had just spilled some water from the mop bucket.

As you approach their side, you assist them in mopping up the mess while sweeping aimlessly across the floor, making sure to get every spot. Due to your new life of no color it reflected on your life emotionally.

As the days passed, you became increasingly depressed and unmotivated. There wasn't a single day when you didn't feel mopey or lonely. It wasn't like anyone could help me; it was just the challenge of living a life without color.

Although you sincerely desired to overcome this phase of your life and simply find the right person to fill that void, life did not work in your favor at the time. Everyone around you seemed to be looking for or had already found their "person."

All you wanted was to find the person who could restore your hope and love, which had been taken away when your brother died. Your parents did everything they could to assist you, including setting you up on strange and ineffective dates that just added to your unhappiness.

Nobody could replace that color that your brother provided for you, or maybe someone could?

"I'm off," you remarked as you pulled off your apron and clocked out in the back. As you stepped out the door, you heard a flurry of goodbyes before closing it behind you.

The world never shifted when the clock struck five.

As you strolled down the crowded streets, the sky before and above you remained grey, never letting up that cloak of shade. A melodious music gradually pours into your ears as you go down the bustling sidewalk.

You follow the dazzling yet tranquil sound of the guitar aimlessly as you imagine music notes flying through the fall air. You cautiously open your tired eyes and spot the crowd to figure out where these tunes are coming from.

Looking up, you spotted a swarm encircling a male, but you couldn't tell who it was. However, it was the music that drew you in; you'd heard that melody before. Even if you weren't musically inclined, you could hear that tune anywhere.

It was his, the one he wrote for you.

You dashed outside to see your brother strumming a tune on the grass with his guitar. Your brother possessed a talent for music. It is a condition that many people are born with, and you were fortunate that your brother was one of them.

He didn't go a day without making up or humming something he'd learned. It was frustrating to hear it every day, but it was still lovely to witness his enthusiasm for it.

“Hey, what are you cooking up this time?” As he began to strum the guitar, he turned around and grinned at you. You couldn't understand what he was mumbling, but it sounded lovely as his fingers casually slid across the strings.

“I don't have the lyrics yet, but I'm sure they'll come. You laughed and nudged his shoulder.

“Just don’t go play at 3 in the morning. Okay?”

“It's not my fault that's typically when the inspiration comes,” he grumbled as he rolled his eyes.

As you raced away from him, you swiftly took his guitar, saying, "Well, I guess that inspiration will have to wait." He leapt from his seat and dashed towards you, yelling your name.

You had no idea that would be his final song; you regret not listening to the finished product; you never knew if he finished it. However, when you got closer to the enticing sound, you observed a young man strumming a guitar, and your ears perked up.

A slender man with long fingers and a quirky side smile, perhaps a musician, delicately touched a golden acoustic guitar, playing her ever so elegantly. You stand there, enthralled by the song, as his hands strum and tug the steel strings of the guitar. You take a cautious step closer to him in order to get a better look.

Allowing the music to take control of your body, you take a deep breath and allow an ounce of hope to creep in. From miles away, the formerly lovely and alive girl could be seen racing to you as you opened your arms to her.

You tried desperately to reach her before she vanished into thin air. The glint had disappeared. As you slowly open your eyes, you notice the man stop playing and gazes up at the audience.

As a smile crept across your face, the edges of your lips began to curl up. You'd forgotten what a smile looked like; you hadn't seen one in a long time, and it just felt natural. Even though he was gone, you could sense his presence. As you began to back away from the mob, tears began to flow freely from your eyes.

As you faded from his view and moved away from the crowd, the boy cast a peek at you. You swear you saw a glimpse of color rushing through your orbs, even if it was just for a split second. You couldn't tell if this was a joke or a new experience for you because you were more terrified than excited.

Could you trust that vision? Would they leave your life like he once did or would they stay? (IT)

Although you wanted to stay and figure it out you had somewhere to be and you didn’t want anyone to waste that special time.

(1 hour later)

Opening the rusted gate and looking at the wrought iron fences sends shivers down your spine as you are whisked back to that tragic day.

As you headed towards the pit, a crack formed in your heart. As they lowered his casket into the black abyss, the steady steps of feet carried it there. Countless shadowy figures form a procession, speaking in unison to pay their respects to the one you cherish. Your inner essence is corrupted by despair, and your heart bleeds like a river inside. Nothing could ever make you feel better.

As they began to fill the hole with dirt, tears welled up in your eyes, prompting you to lower your head. He didn't want you to be sad; he knew his time was coming to an end, yet he felt so safe in his final days.

He wasn't going to abandon you; he'd promised you that he'd left you something to aid you along the path. Even if that were the case, you never discovered it after four years. You rummaged through his room and tore it apart.

You quickly recognized that he was either joking or that the drug had taken effect in his brain and he was talking gibberish. In any case, you made a pledge to visit his grave every day from that day forward to keep him company and to keep yourself sane.

---

Clutching onto your bag, the leaves crunched beneath your feet as you peered about. You see specks of people strewn throughout the cemetery as you hear some speak in low whispers. It didn't take you long to find his gravestone.

You noticed the dead flowers drooping over as you took them out of their vase beside the tomb. Replacing them always brought joy to your heart as the sight of a fresh bouquet of flowers brightened the somber ambiance, which contrasted with the mold-infested tomb.

Taking out your cleaning supplies and speaker, you start working on his tomb while listening to his favorite music. As you hummed along with the song, your soft-bristle brush softly scrubbed the headstone in an orbital motion from bottom to top, carefully avoiding the fissures.

As you finished the soap, you began to rinse the stone as dirt and debris began to fall off the tomb. Although you couldn't determine if everything was off, you could plainly see the phrases and symbols, which was a good hint to stop cleaning everything off.

You wanted to do more for him and not leave any dirt on the surface. But because everything was gray, you couldn't tell, which made you sulk as you put down your brush. As you check the clock on your phone, you exhale a sigh of relief.

7:23p.m

Looking around, you noticed the stragglers had dispersed, leaving you alone as you gazed up at the sky.

“I hope the sunset looks beautiful today, I do miss it.”

The late evening sunset was the one thing you missed more than your brother; you had always admired how everything just flowed and fit together in the evening sky. It's almost as if someone began painting and simply let their hand float through the air.

As you turned to face his tomb, another smile appeared on your face, prompting you to go into your bag for something. As you placed down a cup for you and him, you chuckled at the bottle revealed beneath the sky.

“Lucas, here's to another day. It's been difficult in recent years, but today was a good day. I sensed your presence through the music of some random person; it was strange, but I'm glad I was there to see it. So thank you,” you say, raising your shot glass in the air and taking a sip.

As you heard a voice, you wiped a stray tear from your face.

“I'm sorry for bothering you.”

“Shit, what the hell,” you cursed the dark figure, startled and terrified. Who is there? As you squint your eyes at him, a male emerges from the shadows.

It's him.

----

You cough as you stand up and face the nameless man, he extends his hand as his glasses slide down his narrow nose, “Hi I’m Wonwoo.”

You take his hand in yours and shake it slowly, his grip firm until you let go.

“Hi..wonwoo? “I'm Y/n.” As the boy grinned at you, your voice was barely audible.

He takes a careful step alongside you and sits down close to your brother's grave, placing a case beside him. As you enlarged your eyes and sat down next to him, still observing him, the atmosphere felt reassuring but strange.

“I apologize for startling you; I didn't know that you were there. I’m not sure if your brother mentioned me but I was his friend, we used to write songs together.” As he turned to face you, you noticed the tall man attempting to cross his legs.

You shook your head as you began to gather your belongings, unsure of who this man was. For all you knew, he may be lying to you, so you needed to get out of there as soon as possible. You rose up and began walking away after securing the zipper on your backpack.

“Wait, you don’t have to leave. I can come back another time. I am truly sorry if I interrupted anything."

“No, it's fine,” you say with a shake of your head and outstretched hands.

“Are you sure?”

You walk away again, nodding your head as you hear his voice and a familiar tune.

You came to a halt in your tracks as you slowly turned around to face the boy after hearing a faint melody. As your ears perked up, you heard a low voice.

‘I stand still before you before me. I’m okay, not okay..” The lyrics faded out as you started to find your bearings again as you made your way out of the cemetery. As you stepped toward the road, you strapped your bag on, making sure you had everything you needed.

A girl out on a walk is something you can see every day, yet you were unique. You walked as if you and the road had reached an agreement, as if the concrete was more than eager to support your feet.

The road understood you.

*Ping*

The light of your phone lit up as you clicked on the message.

Mom: Hey sweetie, I dropped off some food at your apartment and did some tidying up. Get home safety.

You: Thanks mom.

Her message brought back memories of days when you and her would cook together and simply bond over the end result. You missed it. Because you live in different places, you don't get to see your parents very frequently, yet they always made time for you.

I wish you could do the same; home is just too much for you to stomach, and you'd rather avoid it.

You reach the corner street after a few more steps, ready to begin your one-mile trek home. As you look back after exhaling a sigh, you hear rumbling on your feet. An automobile approached you, its bright headlights blazing directly at you.

You shifted to the side, squinting your eyes at the sight, and wonwoo greeted you again before you realized it. He grinned at you with his dazzling whites as he bent his head down.

what is with this guy?

Hey, hop in, I'll give you a ride. It's becoming late, and I don't want you walking through here.” As you took a step back, wary of the stranger, he moved his hand closer to you.

“Um.. No-no I’m okay. However, thank you.” As you heard his engine trailing behind you, you began to walk faster. He followed you for a few seconds longer before you came to a complete halt and stared at him.

Through the windshield, you could see him smirk as he waved his hand to you.

“It'll be a lot faster, and if you're worried I'll kidnap you or anything, don't fret. I'm allergic to cats, and I'm a cat person myself. As a result, I assure you that I will not harm you. I just wanted to help a friend.” You moved over to his car, smiled a little, and hopped in, securing yourself with your seatbelt.

“If you do anything I have some bleach and I’m not afraid to use it,” he chuckled at you as he started the car and proceeded to exit the cemetery.

“You’re funny.”

As you gave wonwoo your address he proceeded to drive out of the rural neighborhood as you put your head on the window. You didn't realize it at the time, but you could feel his penetrating glances.

The car was quiet as the low sounds of music vibrated through the car. When you weren't driving, car journeys were the best since they enabled your mind to fantasize and paint over the enormous landscape you were seeing. That haven you built in your imagination calms you and makes you feel protected. The place where you may get away from reality.

As soon as your eyes close for the night, you hear him humming a familiar tune. Rather than remaining silent, you begin a conversation with him, inquiring as to how he learned the song.

“So how did you meet Lucas?” As he laughed, he cast a peek at you.

“Well, I met him at a college party a long time ago and discovered he makes music, so we used to meet up at a friend's studio and just create.” You lightly chuckled as a tear fell down your face as you nodded your head.

It was good to hear other people talk about your other half; it was almost as if he was there with you right now.

You were worried when he gave you brief glances since his eyes were off the road, but as he spoke, you felt protected because he spoke highly of your brother.

“Well, I'm not sure if he mentioned you, but the last song we were working on was one he wrote for you, and he said it was a gift.” As you turned to face him after hearing that final statement, your eyes widened.

“He—he said those exact words, a gift?”

As he rounded the corner and approached your apartment complex building, he shook his head. You could see his shoulder resting on the window sill as he put the car in park.

You hesitantly walk out of the car, stuttering as you gather your belongings, and turn to face him.

“Thank you for the ride; did Lucas mention anything else about the song?” “He wasn't quite finished with it, but he did give me and my other friend some crucial stuff to get it done,” he said as you pressed your face closer to the window.

Your heart began to race as you realized that things were beginning to turn around for you; perhaps this wonwoo boy was destined to be in your life. Lucas' way of demonstrating that he took great care of you.

“Would you like to work on it together sometime?”

Inside, it felt as if the creatures were finally waking up from their rehabilitation and making their way into the real world. Even if it took a while, this new form of relief made you feel alive again. You were adamant about working more to reclaim your color.

In some way, wonwoo was the key to it all.

“Yes, a hundred times yes,” you answered, smiling like a kid in a candy store as you handed him your phone. “Just let me know when you're free.”

Wonwoo returned your phone to you, which you joyfully accepted and placed in your pocket. As you walked to your door, you waved your hand at him and cried out to him one final time.

“Thank you”

“For what?” As you entered the flat and locked the door behind you, you waved your hand at him. You let out a sigh and shake your head as you slid down to the floor.

“What a day”

---

(4 weeks later)

It seemed like you and wonwoo had entered a very unique connection in the last few weeks. He made every effort not to cross any boundaries, both physically and emotionally. Regardless of the fact that you were his closest friend's sister, he was always respectful to you.

Even if that is what he sees from his perspective, you felt more alive when you were with him. Although you could still see gray and couldn't bask in all of his glory, it gave you hope that one day, whenever that time came, you'd be able to see him and everything else.

That was something you lacked previously: hope. Everyone around you including your parents could see a significant change in your life.

“Hey, honey, how's it going at work?” Before taking your purse, your mother kissed your cheek and opened the door for you.

As you met her at your old house, a smile emerged on your face. It was your first visit home in a while, and seeing you there brought joy to their hearts, despite the difficult years you've had.

“Everything has been going well, and I just wanted to drop by and see how you're doing. I miss seeing you and dad.”

“Is that my beautiful daughter, am I seeing things right?” your father exclaimed as he emerged from the back. As a tear trickled down your cheek, you watched as he raced over to you and hugged you.

As he stared at your face and admired it, the hue in front of you remained gray.

“Such lovely brown eyes," It pained your soul that you couldn't remember what they looked like since gray dulled everything and made you forget.

“Thank you, dad, but instead of fawning me, let's play some games. Just because life is bleak doesn't mean I can't be your ass at Monopoly.”

Your mother, gasping at your remark, watched from the back, her eyes welling up with tears as she marveled at a sight she hadn't seen in a long time.

“Moooom, don't start sobbing or dad will start crying,” you said as you turned around.

She comes over to your side and wraps you and your father in a hug, sandwiching you between them. It felt good because you were missing these times with your folks. You couldn't stay at home when your brother died; you had to leave and get away. Everything was just too much for you as things started to remind you of him.

You couldn’t take it anymore.

“I'm really proud of you for coming here and having the confidence to do so. I understand how difficult it must be for you, but thank you.” Through the loud sniffles between you all, you started to feel warm as you wiped your tears.

“All right, no more crying; let's get down to business.” You dashed over to the couch and snatched up Monopoly from the board game box, motioning for them to join you. They chuckled as you began to pull everything out as they made their way over.

As loud yells and laughter echoed out throughout the home, the night was fresh and enjoyable. There were times when you were terrified you'd lose, but you couldn't let your champion status lapse.

Your mother said, "Noo, you're cheating."

“No, I'm not; there's a house there, and you need to pay up or I'll put you in jail.” Between the two, your father snickers and keeps his mouth shut. He was well aware of the rules.

“All right, but that wasn't there before.”

With a chuckle, you shook your head and held out your hand, saying, "excuses excuses."

As you turned off your alarm, it rang at 8:00 p.m. You wouldn't have realized the difference between night and day if it hadn't been for alarm clocks. You jumped up in triumph after placing one more piece on the board.

“And that's why I remain Monopoly's ruler.”

You witnessed your parents give up as they lifted their hands in surrender. They both remark, "Fine, you win," as they begin to clean up the mess. Taking the stray cups and bowls from the tables you set them in the sink as you turned to watch your parents.

It's been a long time since you've been back here, and you've certainly missed the atmosphere. Lucas wouldn't want me to miss out on this opportunity.

“Why don't I come on weekends and bring back board game nights?” As your parents turned back, you uttered, "Next time, I'll bring a friend."

“Oh, it would be wonderful; the more the better.”

As you walked back over to them, you hugged them as they kissed your head.

“You go, we'll take care of this; the drive back is long,” your father remarked as he took your bag and handed it to you.

“Thank you guys, and I love you and the night we just had.” As you approached the door, you waved goodbye before closing it.

“No thank you, love,” your mother said as she and your father watched you leave the home and get into your car.

After one last look at the house, you back out of the driveway and go down the street, looking forward to the day ahead.

Studio day!

You yawn as your body startles you up after taking a deep breath of fresh air. As you slowly open your eyes and look out the window, you breathe a sigh of relief. Something felt different. The chirping of the birds outside made you feel cheerful, not sad.

As your vision remained a little lighter, you began to blink your eyes faster. It wasn't your typical gray morning, and you thought it was growing lighter. The gray was gradually dissipating. You grinned as you considered your color returning.

What prompted this?

It didn't matter because today was dedicated to finishing your song; you, wonwoo, and his friend Mingyu had completed all but the title. You stretch one more time before heading to the bathroom to get ready for the day.

When you get to the mirror, you take a look at yourself. The person in front of you had radically transformed; she had forgotten about her flaws and insecurities, and her heart now held more love. This woman didn't pick apart everything that was wrong with her; instead, she supported herself.

She was unrecognizable, and the old girl in the mirror was finally slipping away. You began to smile more frequently and laugh a little more, and the air around you became warmer rather than frigid. Someone's love had seeped into her heart and begun to unfreeze its hardness.

And that person was wonwoo, which you didn't realize until you looked in the mirror. If you've observed it, chances are that others have as well. And you were grateful for his help in getting you out of that gloomy situation. You were able to regain your trust and begin letting people in again, which made you pleased.

Lucas would be incredibly proud of you, and you didn't want to disappoint him again. You intended to honor his memory and keep him alive in your heart, rather than allowing the past to plague you and prevent you from living your life.

He would have wanted that.

As you stepped inside, you turned on the shower and stripped off your clothing. You had to find a method to repay wonwoo for his compassion. You would not have gotten this far without him and his musical gift, and you were grateful for him.

"I could take him to our place," you offer as you turn off the water and grab a towel from the shower.

“Yeah he would like that.”

----

Work seemed to fly by as your mind raced at a hundred miles per hour. You had everything planned out and had recruited the support of your parents to help you set up.

Your manager tapped your shoulder and asked, "Hey y/n, you okay?" As you dropped the pencil, you flinched.

“Oh sorry, just spacing out.” He shook his head as he spoke out, “For the rest of your shift you can take off if you want, we’re going to close earlier than usual. If you're leaving, clean out the coffee machine and be on your way.”

You enlarged your eyes as your jaw dropped, and you raced into his arms, squeezing him tightly. Your boss chuckled awkwardly as he gently pushed you away from him. For some reason, everything seemed to be working in your favor today. As you rush to get ready, you begin working on the machine, your smile never leaving your face.

You sped to the back room, clocking out and placing your apron into your locker, as you were done in no time. As you walked to the front, you waved goodbye to your manager before heading to your car in the parking area.

“What's the matter with her? That's the first time I've ever seen her that happy. Hmm”

And with that you were on your way to your parents house as you sent a quick text to wonwoo. As you grinned as you placed your phone in the dash holder, you came to a stop light.

You: Hey cancel today's session, I have a place to go to. It may also provide us with better title recommendations. You down??

Wonwoo:) Yes, that sounds excellent; the studio can become claustrophobic. Send me the address and a time frame for my arrival.

You: *address name*. Bring your guitar and meet there in 2 hours.

Wonwoo:) Oh okay. Can’t wait to see you there!

(read 5:45 p.m.)

Even though you weren’t nervous you wanted everything to be special, wonwoo deserved it for all that he has done for you in the past weeks.

You let yourself go as you blast songs down the road, pressing play on your playlist. You didn't notice it at first, but the color was gently sneaking in as you drove around. As creams and beige colors drifted in and out, the outsides of your eyes began to lift.

As you turned off the headlights and opened the door, it didn't take long for you to arrive at your destination. You smiled as you got your belongings from the car and made your way up the hill, finding your parents already set up.

You drop your belongings on the blanket and walk up to hug them, saying, "Hey guys." As they begin to chat with you, they embrace you in a friendly hug.

“So we set up all of the essential elements, such as lighting, a seating area, and refreshments in the cooler and basket.” As she began to indicate the various components, your mother explained. As she brought you around the hill to the tree, she took your hand in hers.

“You remember when you and Lucas did this?” You laugh as you remember that day as you place your palm on the antique carving.

-- “Noo I'd like to go first; you always go first.” You sighed as Lucas took up the knife and began carving his name into the tree.

“You better not cry and tell mom,” he remarked, turning to face you and seeing your glum demeanor. As you passed past him, you stood up straighter, rolling your eyes at him and snatching the knife from his grip.

“I'm not a baby like you,” you say. As he huffed and hurried toward mom, you heard him scoff.

“Mommmm y/n referring to me as a baby. And I'm not one of them. You stood there watching as he stomped his foot and landed on Mom's lap. Your father chuckles, rubbing his back and shaking his head at his wife.

As you return to the blanket, you cross your arms and say, "Well, then, quit acting like one."

That erupted in an outburst as he started to whine on mommy lap.

He did, in fact, act like a baby. Wiping a tear from your eyes as you chuckle, you hold your mother closer as you kiss her on the forehead.

“Hey we have an hour left before wonwoo get here, I'm going to head to the house to clean up. If he arrives early, keep him entertained.” As she watches you descend the hill, your mother shakes her head.

As you pull out of the parking lot, you put your foot down on the accelerator and drive over to your parents' house.

(45 minutes later)

Wonwoo approaches the destination, looking out the windshield as he spots some lights on the hill. As he steps out of the automobile, he notices two people moving around. He smiles as he collects his guitar from the rear and walks up the hill, noting the serene atmosphere.

“Those should go over by the tree and make sure they don't fall.” Wonwoo enters the place, his eyes widening. Fluorescent bulbs fanned out along the tops of the trees, each with a different picture on it, surrounding him.

As he looks down, he notices a blanket with a speaker playing music and the champagne.

Your parents finally turn around, gasping, when your mother rushes over to welcome him, saying, "Forgive us, we didn't hear anything, you must be wonwoo." That's y/n father over there, and I'm y/n mother.” As she introduces you to your father, she smiles and gives you a motherly look.

On this magnificent evening, only a few minutes had passed when you approached the hill once more. You take a brief glance in the mirror before applying some Chapstick. Rubbing it in you open the door as you look up on the hill, you hear conversations as you panic up the hill.

“So this is y/n, she was quite the messy twin when she was a baby-”

“What are you doing, Mom?” You walk over to her, ashamed, and place yourself between you and wonwoo, speaking quietly to her.

“I said to entertain him not embarrass me.”

“Oh, you're overthinking things; did you know he's friends with Lucas?” You chuckle as you grab your father and mother and begin bickering as you force them out of the location. As they descend the slope, they wave goodbye to you and wonwoo.

Taking one look at him, you notice his amusing state; he was cheesing so hard that his rosy cheeks were visible.

“Sorry about them.”

“It's fine; all parents do it.” They simply adore you.” You cross your legs and shake your head as you sit on the blanket, passing him a wine cup.

“To another wonderful day and a wonderful friendship.” Wonwoo takes out the champagne from the cooler as he opens it and sprays the excess in front of you.

“Ahh, you're spilling it” As you giggle at his action, the extra juice pours on your face. You reach for a napkin to wipe the wetness off your face as he takes one in front of you.

“Here, let me take care of it.” He leans in closer as he wipes the liquid from your face before resuming his seat. As your stomach begins to become a #1 gymnast, that simple action sends you spiraling.

“Th-thanks”

He smiles as he pours you a drink for both of you, and as he does so, you grab his guitar box and pry it open, admiring the golden beauty inside. Picking it up, you begin strumming a few chords of the nameless song while moving your head to the beat.

“Wow, you're actually pretty good.”

“I did have a good teacher, Lucas taught me a few things, but I only recall a few chords, so it may become irritating after a while.”

Wonwoo hands you the glass as you take it in your hand, and as you take a sip of the bubbly drink, you hand him the guitar.

As you take another sip, your spirits lift as you stare out at the scenery in front of you. You hear wonwoo begin to play the tune while you stare off towards the colorless world.

“Ruinous imagination consumes me. Makes me dream sweeter dreams, I close my eyes but thoughts of you. Bring noisy night, to you & me, real and dreamy.”

You sway back and forth as his voice soothes your body, his palm brushing over the guitar while his eyelids close, taking in the lyrics.

As you look up at him, you say, "Thank you." It's unavoidable, but tears stream down your face with no attempt to wipe them away.

“Th-thank you foreverythingyouhave-“ you say quickly and brokenly.

“Hey hey, calm down, I can't understand what you're saying,” he says as he scoots over to you and pats your shoulder. You both laugh as you start over, this time with more poise.

“I wanted to express my gratitude to you for genuinely improving my life. You probably don't know, but my relationship with Lucas was incredible; we were never apart, and when he passed, I couldn't live without him. I've struck rock bottom a few times and done some unfathomable things that I'm ashamed of, and I'm sincerely grateful that I've survived another day.”

Wonwoo drew you into a hug and caressed your back as he ceased patting your shoulder. As you sob into his shoulder, the tears begin to flow again.

“Sorry for interrupting, but it seemed like you needed one,” he says as you continue, releasing leave of you.

“To put it simply, you have brought me so much joy and optimism that I am overwhelmed. It's not the same without Lucas, but I'm grateful you entered my life at this point. So thank you; I don't know how to express my gratitude.”

You come to a halt as he looks at you through his round spectacles, and as you become concerned, you begin to look down.

“Sorry if I just spewed all that out.”

“No, it's fine.” I truly appreciate it, and I'm glad I was able to restore a sense of hope in your life. I may not be Lucas, but I will do my best to pay tribute to his memory.

You smile as you feel a wave of self-assurance and an overpowering sensation of bravery wash over you.

When you bring wonwoo closer to you and kiss him on the lips, everything inside of you turns on, and your body begins to feel alive again, exactly like it did before.

“I'm sorry I should have asked you first-“ You release him and lean back as you watch him.

He silenced your words with his lips as his hands wrapped around your neck.

Everything comes rushing back to you in an instant, like a blanket being pulled off of you. As you open your eyes again, you let go of each other. The difference this time is that you can see him.

As he smiled at you, you could see his cheeks flush with scarlet. You can see his silver rings around his slender fingers as his hands slip away from your neck.

You slowly turn around to face the sinking light on the horizon. As if a million scarlet petals have ignited, the sunset blooms on the horizon.

You expected the tears to flow this time as you stood up and walked closer to the cliff's edge. As you stared at the gorgeous view in front of you, you undoubtedly looked a mess.

You collapse to your knees and exclaim, "I can see it!"

Wonwoo approaches you slowly, bending down with you and holding you in his arms.

“See what?”

As you held him again, your snot-filled tear-streaked face turned to his.

“The color has returned, and I can see it now.” As he gasps, he pulls you back.

“Wait, are you serious, what color shirt am I wearing?”

“IT'S GREEN, YOUR SHIRT IS GREEN!!” Wonwoo scoops you up and spins you again in an instant. You lay another kiss on his lips as you chuckle into his lips, unsure of what to do.

The clouds floated into my life, not to bring rain or storms, but to add color to the sunset sky.

He picks up the polaroid camera off the ground and takes a candid shot of you. After he pecked your cheek once more, he smiled as he wanted to remember this special day.

You send wonwoo off to find a knife from the basket as the photo develops. You observe him as he runs around the area like a child, and you smile as the photo develops.

You've probably seen images where the background is blurred and the only thing in focus is the subject of the photograph. That was us. Every other detail became hazy as I concentrated on every facet of him.

You didn't realize how fortunate you were until now; he was the special someone you had wished for eons ago.

Everything felt even better when your color returned, and you knew deep down that everything was going to be well.

It was all because of wonwoo.

Your brother left you a gift, the lovely gift of music, which was seen via wonwoo.

Yes, your brother had been your best friend, and yes, he had left you. But, as you found a great friend, the life he presumably wanted for you had only just begun.

You hoped that with him, you would be able to treasure the love you had just as much as you did while you were together.

“Hey, wonwoo, I have a song title, also follow me.”

As he began heading toward you, he turned around and looked at you. You've both arrived at the same tree that was planted many years ago.

He gives you the knife as you start placing your name under your past self. As he watches you cry, Wonwoo does the same.

*Forever, Y/n, Wonwoo, and Lucas*

As he finishes up, you grab his hand and stroll back to the blanket setup. He takes a seat beside you and wraps his arm over your body.

“So, what are your thoughts?”

“Bittersweet, that's the title,” you said as you turned to face him.

“I love it,” he says as he pulls you closer to him with a nod of his head.

And with that, your brother's memory was carefully preserved, shared, and intended for all to hear.

“Lucas, I'll never forget you.”

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

➳ Navigate to the Maze

#seventeen #svt #seventeen jeon wonwoo #jeon wonwoo #wonwoo #svt wonwoo #seventeen fics #seventeen writer #seventeen angst #seventeen fluff #seventeen series #seventeen x reader #soulmate au #wonwoo fluff #seventeen wonwoo #seventeen masterlist #babytaes works

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mrpenguinpants · 4 years ago

Text

Venti: First Meeting and Friendship HCs

First Meeting HCs

————————————————————

The god of freedom certainly lived up to the title. A truly free spirit who only wished the same for others. He shaped the many hills and cliffs of Mondstadt with his own hand, and graciously bestowed his powers unto those he deemed worthy. And yet…there he sat - teetering on the edge of a barstool, completely and utterly intoxicated.

The red-head manning the bar rolls his eyes at the sorry display the archon was creating, and resumes cleaning the glass in his hand. However as a bell rings out - signaling a new patron - he looks up.

You enter the famed “Angels Share”, the best tavern in Mondstadt - or so you’ve been told. Really, you’ll decide that for yourself - is what you think as you slide into an empty seat at the bar. Eager to unwind after a long day of adventuring, you order your drink and attempt to relax.

But really, your night didn’t end how you’d hoped at all. You ended up with a loud and incredibly clingy bard hanging off of your shoulder spouting barely comprehensible rhymes and poems. You would’ve found amusement in the spectacle if you weren’t so tired. Shrugging him off did no good, as he was surprisingly strong for someone so small.

Thankfully, you got your sweet freedom as the bartender cut him off for the night, presenting the smaller boy with the shockingly large bill. A wave of pity washes over you as his face drops at the number.

He laughs awkwardly, attempting to convince the bartender that he could pay by other means, but the stoic man only sighs, trying to explain to the drop-dead drunk bard that he cannot keep the tavern open with “songs and sonnets”.

Really you were quite done with your failed attempt at relaxation - wanting to go home and just sleep the night away. Sliding a bag of Mora across the counter you state that it should be enough to cover both of your tabs. That was essentially all you’d earned via commission today, though, you can’t really find a reason to be mad about the extra expenditure. Helping people out - that’s just what you do. You don’t look twice as you exit the bar, though you feel a pair of eyes on your hooded figure as the door swings shut.

And that was that - you never saw the drunken bard again. Or so you thought. As the very next day you spotted him out of the corner of your eye while scouting around a Hilichurl camp, but as soon as you looked he was gone. And then that very same evening as you sat down for dinner at Good Hunter. Then several times over the next few days.

It was ticking you off, not just the fact that you had pretty much obtained a stalker, but the extra stress he brought with him as you now had to worry about his well being on top of yours during battle. You even started taking less dangerous commissions to further guarantee his safety. You didn’t really know or like the guy, but you certainly didn’t want him hurt, or worse; dead.

And by that point he wasn’t even trying to hide or disguise himself - trailing a few feet behind you nearly everywhere you went, drawing perplexed gazes from the townsfolk as you wandered from store to store for supplies. You were trying your best to keep your composure - to pretend he wasn’t even there in the first place - but the longer the charade went on the more cracks that appeared in your mask.

You didn’t mean to snap at him, honestly, but you were tired of putting up with a complete stranger following you around for no good reason - so you yelled at him. Right there in the middle of the market, the bard stood stunned - taken aback by your sudden outburst. He recovered quickly of course, smiling up/down at you like he hadn’t just been shouted at in clear view of the publics eye.

He hastily explains his actions, identifying himself as Venti - a travelling bard seeking inspiration for his next story. That night in the bar, he had been there lamenting - drowning his sorrows in wine over his recent pieces. They were all lacking ingenuity - a certain bit of flair that makes a story truly unforgettable. And that’s where you came in. You had caught his attention with your selfless act of generosity, so much so that it had given him that spark he he had been searching for. So naturally, he followed that spark - hoping it would continue to present him with the same creativity as before.

As you listen to his reasoning, the initial anger you felt mellows. You’re more than relieved that he’s not actually a creepy stalker, just a bard looking for inspiration.

Apologizing sheepishly for your actions, you scratch the back of your head. In that moment it was impossible to look into the boys eyes. You felt bad, truly. You had misread the situation entirely - thought it wasn’t all your fault. If the bard had simply approached you in the first place this whole fiasco could’ve all been avoided.

As you voice these thoughts to Venti he hums in understanding. He returns your apology with one of his own - bowing deeply with his beret in hand - shocking you and the few random townsfolk still paying attention to the scene.

Deeply embarrassed by the confused gazes the bard was drawing to them, you hastily accept his apology, tugging your hood further down to hide your hot face. Honestly the idea of just running away from the situation sounded quite appealing, but instead you restrain the urge - opting to walk past the boy as quick as possible.

Just as your shoulders brush, a hand latches onto your wrist - stopping your escape in its tracks. This time it’s Ventis turn to look sheepish, as he officially asks to accompany you on your exploits. He offers you entertainment and conversation, as well as any other skills he may or may not have - the latter only serving to confuse rather than convince you.

“Your journey would be far more enjoyable with a skilled bard such as myself by your side. Perhaps you would even allow me to write a ballad of your conquests?”

It’s not entirely uncommon for a bard to travel with an adventurer for inspiration, you suppose to yourself. Though you’re still more than a bit apprehensive on the matter. It’s not that you don’t want his company - really it does get quite lonely alone out on the road - it’s simply his safety that concerns you. But upon voicing this Venti simply chuckles, exclaiming that he’s much stronger than his appearance lets on.

Now - with no real reason to refuse - you accept his offer, earning a cheer from the bard. And so your joint journey began - you and Venti against whatever tasks or monsters needed tackling.

Friendship HC

————————————————————

It goes without saying that if you didn’t have a vision before, you certainly have one now. Within the first week in fact. Waking up in the early hours of the day to a soft blue glowing vision beside your head was not something you ever thought you’d experience - but of course you’re not complaining.

Upon shaking the bard awake to show him your discovery he only gives a rather tame reaction - as if he already knew you had it.

“Hmm? You woke up to a vision by your side? My, my - what luck you seem to possess! Perhaps now you may go into battle with less distress.”

Travelling with Venti is never dull, as he fills the silence with stories of old - tales of the long deserted original city of Mondstadt, the creation of the seven nations themselves and other obscurities that you don’t remember hearing about in any history book. Often times he interrupts his own story to spill his own hot take on a major historical figure or deity - hearing him call Andrius a “mother hen in denial” had you spit out your drink. His storytimes often end with you wondering how exactly someone so young would have knowledge of times long gone. He always shrugs it off, quickly changing the subject with a smile filled with secrets. For a boy so young he talks as if he’s been around for centuries.

Any looming worries over his well being are quickly dismissed once you see him fight. His nimble fingers and sharp eyes shoot down all matter of foes in rapid succession, and his skills at utilizing anemo are completely unparalleled. Really, you’re left wondering how he’s not the adventurer here.

You will absolutely fall victim to his pranks there’s nothing you can do about it. Whether it’s the wind blowing your cloak around in your face, extra jueyun chilies in your food or a slime condensate down the back of your shirt - you cannot escape the impish bards mischievous side. It’s when he suddenly falls quiet that you have to worry. A silent Venti is a scheming Venti.

However this is not a one-sided deal at all, he welcomes - no, insists - that you prank him back. He doesn’t want you to be left out of the fun after all! So get him back for that frog he put in your pack, or the time he kept pushing air currents in your direction so you couldn’t land your glider. Really; the more creative the better. If you’re able to prank him successfully he’ll laugh with you as you celebrate, praising you for your victory. But be warned that his next scheme will be twice as good as yours.

If you ever need a break from his shenanigans, go hang out with a cat. He won’t approach you while the animal is around, however he will be pouting up a storm from a distance.

You’ve gotten to discover many quirks of the bard clad in green over time, like how the tips of his hair seem to glow brighter when he’s in a good mood - especially when he laughs, and that he’s completely repulsed by cheese. If he ever bothers you too much you can get him back by chasing him while holding the stuff. Some of that nasty, stinky stuff Sara has at Good Hunter should do the trick. Mind you that the boy is incredibly spry - so good luck keeping up.

Eventually, he ends up revealing his true identity to you after the guilt of lying begins to eat away at his heart - making it harder to keep up his persona. Really he’d wanted to tell you for months at that point, but a lingering feeling of apprehension - a worry that you may no longer see him the same way - kept holding him back.

“Y/N, I wish to tell you a truth I’ve been hiding. You see…in reality, I am Lord Barbatos.”

“…”

“That…actually explains so much…”

He’s relieved to find that nothing has changed between the two of you after his revelation. You still treat him like Venti the bard, just as you always have. It’s a weight off his shoulders to be sure, and you can tell his overall mood has improved too.

It’s still kind of shocking when he switches to “Barbatos mode”, as you’ve taken to calling it. Spouting bars of philosophical gibberish at the most random of times leaves you blinking in utter confusion and often times just hurts your brain.

At the end of the day, the God of freedom is incredibly lonely. The best way to describe it is that he’s detached - he’s out of touch with his ever-changing homeland and the people that reside in it. Only ever appearing to handle a major problem or calamity at hand and then sending himself into a deep slumber for hundreds of years.

Waking up each time is like mental whiplash for the poor god, as he sees towns rise and fall, people come and go and things change again just he’s beginning to get used them. It takes a toll on him - though he won’t let anyone see that.

He craves companionship and the feeling of belonging that comes with it more than anything. Placing unconditional trust in someone else, backing them up when the goings get tough and having them do the same in return. Providing a shoulder to lean on in moments of weakness and being so comfortable that breathing easy becomes the simplest thing in the world. That’s what he wants. Barbatos may not be human but his vessel is.

That’s why Barbatos cherishes his friendship with you so much. He knows you - like all other humans - have a finite amount of time in this world. In time, wrinkles will adorn your face, and strands of silvery gray will appear in your hair. You bones will ache as age seeps into your body. And yet he will experience no such afflictions - forever wearing the face of a young boy from another time. Ever ageless, frozen in time.

The dull ache that spreads through his chest at the thought of watching the one who he considers his closest friend wither away in front of him is…crushing. Even though he knows your time alive is brief, and that your death would only cause him more pain - he can’t stop himself.

He’ll spend nearly every day by your side, telling you tales of yore, pulling pranks and practical jokes, covering your back in battle and being there when you need it most. He wants you to experience the land and all its freedoms. He wants you to get the most out of what little time you have in such a vast and expansive world.

You’re the closest friend he’s had since the real Venti - and he sees bits of him in you too. You help fill the gaping hole of loneliness in his chest - one stemming from a millennia of duty and repressed guilt.

He knows you’ll eventually leave him, and one day hopefully he’ll come to terms with that. But for now, he’s content with you by his side, racing off into whatever dangers lie ahead.

————————————————————

This turned out so much longer that I thought it would I’m so sorry ;-;

I know you said all you wanted were headcannons but I think I went a lil too far…ok ALOT too far

I had fun though…so thanks for giving me something to work on!

—

No need to feel sorry! I loved it so much. Headcanons, fics, whatever you want^^ I stan talent and you have it 💕💕

I don’t know if you lads remember but when I was struggling over Venti HCs, this was the friend I asked for crumbs of inspiration that ended up giving me an entire fic. I went absolutely feral over it and wanted to share it with you all.

So thank you to @fulltimeventisimp [alt account] for your beautiful work and feeding us all Venti crumbs. I swear to god, if there is a Venti re-run and you don’t get 6 venti’s in one 10 roll it’s time to riot.

[No worries about tags]

Also, I know this isn’t my work but I’m going to tag you all in this

@mikeysbike�� @unionwitch @musekala @sunnshiii @stanzastic @akaasea @xoneaboveallx @adoring-ghost @asheseiler @childelover @dilucsz @dai-tsukki-desu @thicmitten @nonniechan @htnicayh @genshins1mpact @morthecreator @aanne2601 @aklxojjk @hanniejji

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the-lonelybarricade · 3 years ago

Note

Loved your latest chapter and Im so excited to see what happens under the mountain!

I was wondering if I could request a one-shot?(up to you how long and you can do it in your own time)something along the lines of:

Feyre( from either ACOWAR, ACOFAS or ACOSF) time travels back to ACOTAR, but instead of finding herself back in her human body i the spring court, she's still in her fae body and ends up trapped in velaris, having to explain to the rest of IC who she is and why she cant go free their highlord(add some mistrust from the IC)

🙈🙈Id its very similar to what youre doing rn with your other fic but, if you find the inspiration sometime could you please do this? Ive wanted to read a fic for ages were feyre rime travels and meets pre-acomaf inner circle who dont know/trust her, but Ive never found a fic like that

Thank youuu

Hi lovely anon! It makes me so happy you enjoyed my latest chapter! I’m supposed to be working on a project for uni, but I couldn’t resist gratifying my lovely friends (because you're anon and won't be notified I was getting sad at the idea of you checking my blog and not seeing me respond) <3 I’ll admit I’m a bit scatterbrained at the moment, so I hope it’s okay!

I was having trouble brainstorming a reason for Feyre getting sent back in time because I didn't want to borrow the reasoning from ACoFD. So I was vague and twisted the pre-existing rules around the Ouroboros, and ended up getting quite carried away with the story since I don’t like not giving things a happy ending (even though it’s a little cheesy, sorry)

Anyway, I hope this is what you were looking for! I know you wanted the angst of not being able to save Rhys but... I couldn't just leave my poor bat-boy behind, you know? ;)

Also if this didn't quite scratch that itch, I'm always happy to take more requests

Word count: 4,446

The Ouroboros.

It was a massive, round disc—as tall as Feyre was. Taller. And the metal around it had been fashioned after a massive serpent, the mirror held within its coils as it devoured its own tail.

Ending and beginning.

From across the room, Feyre could not see it. What lay within.

She forced herself to take a step forward. Another.

The mirror itself was black as night—yet… wholly clear.

She watched herself approach. Watched the arm she had upraised against the wind and snow, the pinched expression on her face. The exhaustion.

She stopped three feet away. She did not dare touch it.

It only showed Feyre herself. Nothing.

Feyre scanned the mirror for any signs of… something to push or touch with her magic. But there was only the devouring head of the serpent, its maw open wide, frost sparkling on its fangs.

Feyre stared and stared, but all she saw was herself. There was nothing else. Then—

Feyre woke with a gasp, sitting up in bed to shake away the cobwebs of sleep and the strange, foreboding feeling that felt draped around her shoulders like a weighted cape, pulling her down. It hadn’t been a particularly horrifying nightmare. In fact, it was perhaps of the tamer dreams she’d had in the last year.

Yet something about it clung to her, perhaps a lingering agitation that she’d yet to retrieve the mirror the Bone Carver had requested. That must be it.

The bed space beside her was cold. The sun peaking through the window was not high, it couldn’t be long past dawn. However worrisome her own dream, her mate’s must have been worse to draw him from sleep so early. Worse still for him to sneak away.

Feyre rose from the bed, reaching absently for Rhysand’s dressing robe to wrap around herself. She always loved to steal her mate’s clothes, to be wrapped in his scent.

With gentle steps, she made her way to the study, where she could only assume Rhys had sequestered himself in the lone hours of the night. She’d noticed the weary draw to his shoulders, the dark circles under his eyes. This war was weighing on him heavily, and he was nervous. Feyre wished he didn’t insist on shouldering the burden alone.

“Rhys?” Feyre called softly as she got to the study, knocking on the door before she cracked it open.

Peeking her head around the door, she was met with the sight of Rhysand’s abandoned study. The scattered papers and war maps that had become characteristic of his desk space were surprisingly missing. In fact, the whole space had been cleared away and there was a thick layer of dust on every surface as if no one had been in here in years.

Feyre frowned at the sight, and how different it had been just the day before. Where had all the dust come from? And more importantly, where was Rhys? Perhaps he’d taken a morning flight to clear his head.

Where are you, love? She called to him through the mating bond, but was met with silence.

“Who are you?”

The voice was cold and venomous. Feyre turned, coming face to face with Mor, whose face was twisted into a threatening scowl.

“Mor?” Feyre asked, confused by her friend’s cold demeanor. “What do you mean? Have you seen Rhys?”

Mor’s face turned deadly, a look Feyre had only ever seen from Mor in the Court of Nightmares. “Is that some kind of joke?” she snarled.

Then, before Feyre could process what was happening, Mor had gripped onto Feyre’s wrist and they were enveloped in darkness. They stepped into the House of Wind, into the dining room where Cassian and Azriel abruptly stood up.

“Mor?” Feyre questioned when the blonde didn’t release her steel grip. She looked to Cassian and Azriel quizzically. “Guys? What’s going on?”

Cassian crossed his arms, assessing Feyre with a hostility that put her on edge. “Who’s this, Mor?” he asked gruffly.

Feyre frowned as she watched Azriel reach for Truth-Teller.

“Is this a joke?” she asked, flitting her eyes to each of her friends. Where she sought that friendly warmth in each of their gazes she was met with hard stares, filled with distrust, ready for a brawl. She couldn’t make sense of it. Was this an act Rhys had put them up to?

“I found her in the townhouse,” Mor said. “I don’t know how she got in there. She was in Rhysand’s study.”

“And she’s wearing his dressing gown,” Azriel noted dryly. Cassian did a double glance, his eyes going wide, then narrowing with a rage Feyre had never seen from the male. Certainly never directed at her.

There was a whisper of shadow, then suddenly Azriel was behind her, Truth-Teller poised at her throat.

Feyre startled. “Azriel!” she said sharply. Even if it was a joke, Feyre couldn’t imagine Rhysand would sanction this kind of threat. And the energy in the room was off, the tension too thick. “Stand down.”

“And who are you,” he breathed in her ear, his voice coated in shadow and nightmare, “to command the Shadowsinger of the Night Court?”

“I’m your High Lady,” Feyre answered steadily, not letting Azriel’s shadows, nor cunning voice, shake her resolve. “Now, I don’t know what is going on with the three of you, or what strange joke you’re trying to pull, but you will listen to what I say. Put. Your. Knife. Down.”

“High Lady?” Cassian repeated with a snort of disbelief. “You’ve got balls, little girl.”

Truth-Teller danced across the skin of her neck, pressing lightly enough to intimidate without breaking skin. “Do you even know to whom you speak? You should be bowing before the acting Queen of the Night Court.”

Too stunned to properly resist, Azriel kicked his feet out to knock Feyre to her knees in front of Mor. His fingers slid into her hair, gripping it tightly to pull her head back as Truth-Teller resumed its threatening position at her throat.

“Breaking into the High Lord’s personal residence, impersonating a high position within the Night Court, lying to the Morrigan’s face,” Azriel listed, increasing the pressure of the blade with each transgression. “You throw our High Lord’s generosity and protection in his face, something we as his acting Court do not take lightly.”

“Acting court? Acting Queen?” Feyre repeated, feeling as if she’d woken to a different reality. “What are you talking about? Where’s Rhysand!?”

“We’re the ones asking the questions here,” Cassian growled.

Feyre looked to each of her friends, studying their faces. Beyond their militant expression, she could see their grief. Could smell it. She repeated, “where is Rhysand?”

She felt the snarl that rumbled through Azriel’s chest behind her, vibrating against her back. When the question was once again unanswered, Feyre abandoned all sense of patience.

Darkness exploded through the room. She heard Mor gasp as the walls of the House shook from the might of her power. Feyre folded into the shadows, winnowing out of Azriel’s grasp so she stood in the center of the three of them.

“Az, Cass, Mor, you are my friends and I do not want to hurt you. But I am also your High Lady and you will answer me this instant, where is Rhys? Where is my mate!?”

Siphons gleamed red and blue through the thick tendrils of night, illuminating the Illyrian males’ faces. Cassian’s jaw had fallen open, while Azriel was studying her through narrowed eyes, wisps of shadow surrounding him. Feyre wondered what they were whispering to him.

“Mate?” Cassian echoed, the first to break the heavy silence.

Mor took a cautious step forward, her countenance completely changed. Her pupils were blown wide, twin brown depths churning with sorrow and gentle astonishment. Azriel went rigid at Mor’s approach, but no one moved to stop her as she came face to face with Feyre.

“Where did you get this?” she whispered, taking Feyre’s left hand, eye fixed on her mating band. On the sapphire-star ring that once belonged to Rhysand’s mother.

All eyes befell the subject of Mor’s attention. Cassian swore softly in recognition.

“It’s my mating band,” Feyre answered measuredly, still puzzled that the inner circle, her family, didn’t seem to have any memory of it. Nor of her. “I won it from the Weaver, as was the task set by Rhysand’s mother. But you were all there for that. I don’t understand what’s going on. Where. Is. Rhys?”

“Under the Mountain,” Mor whispered, her voice soft and pained.

The darkness ebbed away like a receding tide. Feyre felt her heart sink as she tried to process this information. “He—What?”

“He’s been Under the Mountain for the last 50 years,” Mor said, firmer this time. “And if you were his so-called mate, you would know that.”

“No,” Feyre said, shaking her head vehemently. “No, that’s impossible. We got out. We—”

This was a nightmare. It had to be a nightmare, and she just hadn’t woken up from it.

“Amarantha’s dead,” Feyre insisted, mostly in an attempt to console the unparalleled grief and panic that were raging inside her. “She’s dead, and Rhys and I got out.”

The grim faces of her friends said otherwise. They stared at her, in unbearable mixtures of pity and horror.

“I think she’s having a mental break,” Cassian said, not unkindly. “Should we get a healer?”

“Let me show you,” Feyre said meekly, casting her magic out to tap on their mental shields.

They all tensed, clearly not aware they’d been in the presence of a daemati. Trained well by Rhys, they all cracked their shields just enough for Feyre to send her conjured memories through. She showed them going Under the Mountain as a human, winning the trials and being resurrected, falling in love with Rhys, and eventually becoming High Lady of the Night Court. In turn, the three of them pushed back their own memories, of the current state of the world. Of Rhysand sacrificing himself so that his Court and Velaris would be safe.

A sob broke out of Feyre. “How is this possible? How am I here?”

It was Azriel who immediately went for the jugular. “More importantly, if you’re here as a High Fae, how is Rhys going to get out? How do we stop Amarantha?”

Feyre fell to her knees, grief-stricken by this realization. She was no longer human. She couldn’t stride in as Tamlin’s human lover and undergo the trials. Feyre had her powers, but they were untested. Would she be able to take on the whole of Amarantha’s court?

“What do I do? How do I save him?” she whimpered, staring in mute horror at her mating band.

Mor tentatively reached forward, laying a comforting hand on Feyre’s shoulder. “Rhys sacrificed himself to keep the people he loves safe. He wouldn’t want you getting yourself killed trying to save him.”

“I have to try,” Feyre answered desperately. “Amarantha she’s…” Feyre couldn’t bring herself to say the word, rape. Not to his family, who wear his sacrifice for them like an open wound. “She’s doing unspeakable things to him. He’s suffering so much. I can’t leave him to that fate. I have to try.”

With renewed conviction, Feyre accepted Mor’s outstretched hand and picked herself to her feet. “Rhys said it himself once. Amarantha’s biggest weapon is that she keeps the High Lord’s power contained. She can’t access them herself. But I… I have access to all the High Lords’ powers. And that bitch has my mate. My wrath will be plenty to take her down.” She faced her friends, who watched her warily. “You have my word as your High Lady,” she swore to them. “The High Queen of Prythian is going to fall by the night’s end.”

⟡⟡⟡

Winter had not yet fallen in the Mortal Lands. Feyre wondered if across the world, there was a version of herself curled in a bed with her sisters, clinging to any shred of warmth and survival.

That version of Feyre was very different from the version who strode up the sloping hills of the Spring Court with Azriel by her side. Rhys would be furious that Feyre had allowed him to accompany her. Should anything go wrong, it would destroy her mate to know his family had been put in harm's way after everything he’d done to protect them. Which was why it was only Azriel who came with, the only compromise she could reach with his Inner Circle, who insisted on coming with.

Who better to sneak into the Mountain with than the very soldier who taught Feyre the art of stealth. He was the obvious choice, since Mor needed to stay to rule the Night Court and Cassian was too heavy-handed to handle such a delicate task.

Their footfall was silent. Feyre wrapped them in the shadow of Night as they winnowed through the cave network. Her heart hammered in her chest, panicked to be back in the source of so many nightmares.

But Rhysand was more important than her fear. For him, she would not falter.

With the Shadowsinger by her side, Feyre snuck through the winding tunnels until she came to a familiar passageway. They slid into a massive, dark bedroom, lit only by a few candles.

To attack Amarantha in the throne room would be too messy. Too many variables to contend with, should Amarantha have enough wit about her to use any faeries as a shield. Especially Rhysand.

After several hours of waiting, the lock on the door clicked and swung open. Darkness swirled around the room as Rhysand took in the sight of Feyre and Azriel on the bed.

Immediately, the door slammed shut.

“No,” he whispered, voice dripping with horror. “No.”

“Rhys—” Feyre started, but her mate wasn’t paying any attention to her. He was looking at Azriel as if his whole world had shattered.

“Leave,” he said, his voice cold and commanding. This was no happy reunion between brothers. This was Rhysand’s worst nightmare. “Leave this instant, you stupid fool. That is, if you’re lucky enough to have avoided detection when you passed under her wards.”

“I took down the wards,” Feyre said. They weren’t particularly strong, either. Amarantha had gotten lazy, perhaps thinking herself secure with the only spell-cleaver under her control. Or so she believed.

Rhys turned that quiet fury towards her. “And who are you?”

“Your mate,” Feyre answered steadily, tipping her chin up.

Rhysand laughed. A desperate, humorless sound. “Then you are just as foolish as my idiot brother. And you have both sealed your deaths by being here. Do you understand that?”

Feyre scratched along those familiar adamantite shields. Rhys’s eyes flickered in surprise, but otherwise he looked unruffled as he cracked a sliver open for her.

It would be unwise to underestimate me, mate.

I wouldn’t be going around boasting about such a thing, if what you claim is even true, came his icy response. And I wouldn’t count on a few party tricks to save you, either.

And what if I told you, she purred, that I possess the power of all seven High Lords?

That, at least, garnered a reaction from the stoic male. He narrowed his eyes in disbelief, studying Feyre carefully. His gaze caught on her hands, at the lace tattoos that flowed to her fingers. And the mating band she still wore.

Feyre watched those violet eyes go wide, the silver constellations dancing in astonishment at the sight of his mother’s ring.

Where did you get that?

It’s a long story, love, but you’re going to have to trust me. She lowered her mental shields completely. Have a look for yourself. I’m telling you no lies. I am your High Lady, and I am here to free my husband.

She felt those familiar talons wrap around her mind. A foolish thing to do, to give a daemati unrestricted access to her mind. And if it were anyone but Rhys, it would have been. But his touch was gentle, and he took only the information he needed.

“I don’t understand how this is possible,” he whispered, breaking the silence of the room. Azriel had been waiting patiently, but looked relieved to be included in the conversation once more. “And I hate that you’ve put yourselves in danger for this, but it could work.”

Rhys considered for a long moment, then he looked between Feyre and Azriel and said, “do it when she’s sleeping. That bitch has been playing dirty for 50 years, you might as well level the playing field to give yourselves the best chance. Let’s do it tonight. I’ll leave the door unlocked, wear her out, and signal you once she’s asleep. Her spell prevents me from harming her, but I’ll make sure she’s restrained. All you have to do is drive the ash dagger through her heart, but have your magic ready for damage control.”

⟡⟡⟡

Feyre and Azriel waited in Rhysand’s bedchambers for his signal. There was a revelry tonight, as there was every night Under the Mountain, and Rhys was expected to be in attendance. Afterwards, he’d join Amarantha in her bed and make sure she was, in his words, “thoroughly exhausted”.

It was torturous for Feyre. To know exactly what the implication in those words were, to have to use her mate’s body in such a way. She wanted to roar at the Mountain, at the Cauldron, at anything that would listen, but instead she was next to the quiet, brooding Shadowsinger, and lamented in silence.

She’d begged Rhys to reconsider, to perhaps help them stage a more physical encounter that didn’t rely on his own suffering. But he’d denied any plan but the one he’d proposed, insisting it would cause him more anguish to but Feyre and Azriel in harm's way.

So they waited the long, agonizing hours until she felt a delicate pull at her chest. She’s asleep, Rhys called. Be on your guard.

He sent her directions to Amarantha’s bedchambers. There were guards outside, but Feyre and Azriel winnowed past them, cloaked in night and shadow.

Amarantha’s bedchambers were huge. Feyre had never been inside them before, but she was unsurprised to see they provided any luxury a High Queen could wish for.

Atop a large bed of red, silken sheets, lay her mate and Amarantha, both stark naked. The smell of sex clung to the air, Rhysand and Amarantha’s scents intertwined. Feyre thought she might be sick.

Even more sickening was the sight before her, of Amarantha’s arms restrained to the headboard in cloth. A clever way for Rhys to restrain her under the guise of sex, but horrifying nonetheless, to see the proof of what they’d been up to. The female was fast asleep, so convinced of her authority that she could fall asleep tied-up and not feel vulnerable doing so. How satisfying, Feyre thought, that such arrogance would be her downfall.

Feyre warded the room, putting up a shield of darkness so that no sound would break through to alert the guards. Rhys watched their approach warily from where he perched beside Amarantha, so still Feyre was convinced he held his breath.

He wouldn’t risk moving to wake her up, which terrified Feyre. Should something go wrong, her mate would be susceptible to Amarantha’s wrath. Naked, vulnerable, and completely under her control. It was such a dangerous game they were playing.

The room was as quiet and still as the bewitching hours of the night, their footsteps silent as they picked across the room. Azriel held the ash dagger. If Rhys could not kill Amarantha, his brother wanted to do it on his behalf. Meanwhile, Feyre summoned tendrils of night that carefully wrapped around Amarantha’s legs, slithering up her body like a snake, ready to constrict and restrain.

The female stirred in her sleep, perhaps feeling the ghostlike touch of Feyre’s magic. But she did not wake. Not as Azriel raised the dagger over her chest, and not as he plunged it down.

Amarantha’s eyes shot open as the dagger pierced her chest. She let out a shriek of agony and ire, moving to claw at her attacker. She raged against the restraints, spewing obscenities until they died at her lips as the blade sunk into her heart.

Rhysand’s chest was heaving as he watched the female still, then slump. He looked from her dead body, to Azriel and Feyre.

Feyre’s heart sank as she watched her mate process that it was truly over. There wasn’t a trace of elation in his eyes at being liberated, but she understood why. Rhys would finally be returning home, but as a much different man than the one he had been. He’d survived, but not unscathed, and he’d need time to process this.

Feyre came to him, reached towards her mate with the hand that bore his mother’s ring. Rhys looked to it, then up to her. His eyes were clouded with sorrow, with a melancholy she could only hope to chip away at in time. But she could see stirring beneath it was a breath of hope, perhaps the first he’d allowed himself in a long time.

“Let’s go home, Rhys,” she said gently.

Slowly, Rhysand nodded, moving to grasp her hand. She felt him jolt at the touch and, as she glanced at him questioningly, she saw his lips part in wonder.

I suppose you weren’t lying about being my mate, he whispered, the words a sensual brush in her mind. Thank you for coming to rescue me, High Lady.

Feyre grasped onto Azriel, and together the three of them stepped into darkness.

Then, they were above the House of Wind, tumbling through the night sky. Feyre unfurled her wings before Rhys could move to catch them, worried that her mate would struggle after 50 years without flight.

Both males stared in astonishment at the sight. Rhysand’s eyes danced in awe as Feyre, albeit clumsily, carried them to the training ring on the roof.

Rhys snapped his own wings open as they landed. Feyre watched him tilt his head back in rapture as he felt the wind against his wings for the first time in decades. Then he opened his eyes, his expression shifting to reverence as he beheld the night sky.

“I was beginning to think I’d never see it again,” he whispered, his voice a heartbreaking blend of exaltation and disbelief. “And for this gift… for my salvation to be courtesy of my mate and of my brother… I’m a bit overwhelmed,” he admitted sheepishly.

Feyre hesitated. If this was the Rhysand from before, the one to which she was mated and married, she would come to comfort him. But this version of Rhys had only just been freed from enslavement, and she didn’t know what he needed.

As though sensing her hesitation, Rhys cast his eyes back to the sky. “I know they’re all waiting for me downstairs, but I’d like a little bit of time with the stars. Will you let them know, Az?”

Azriel nodded, though he seemed conflicted. His reunion with his brother was perhaps not as merry as the male had expected. But right now, she knew the Inner Circle would hardly deny Rhys anything. Perhaps for a long while yet. So Azriel headed downstairs to inform their friends, who were sure to be anxiously awaiting their arrival.

Rhysand regarded Feyre carefully once the two of them were alone. “Mate and High Lady,” he mused. “You seem to wear many hats.”

“You forgot ‘wife’,” Feyre said lightly.

“Yes, and ‘Salvation’, ‘Queen Killer’, ‘Most Beautiful Female in Prythian’, it seems there’s many things I could call you. Could we start with your name, perchance?”

Feyre was shocked. She’d assumed he’d taken such information out of her mind earlier, but it seems he’d been even more respectful than she’d expected.

“Feyre,” she answered. “My name is Feyre.”

He looked wonderstruck. “Feyre,” he repeated, testing the name on his lips. A gentle smile curled at the corners of his mouth, the first she’d seen from him yet. He extended his hand towards her. “Would you like to watch the stars with me, Feyre?”

It was an offer she couldn’t refuse. Her hand found his with all the casual grace of a dancer, as if it were a routine they’d been perfecting their whole lives. Their fingers interlocked and as one, they stared up at the dazzling night sky.

This reality wasn’t perfect, Feyre thought. This Rhys was different from her own, and he still had a lot of healing to do. But if she could be there for him, to help him in a ways she hadn’t before, then she would be grateful to the strange eddies of the Cauldron for bringing her here. For allowing her to end his torment early. For giving them this extra time.

She watched a shooting star dart across the sky and smiled as it passed. There was nothing she could wish for except that her mate find peace in all that he’d endured the last half century.

His deep, velvety voice cut through the silence. “Do you often wish on stars, Feyre?”

She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye. He was watching her with a heart-wrenching wistfulness.

“Only when I have a wish worthy of the stars.”

“And do you?”

Feyre looked to the northernmost star, which shined brightest in the sky. “I wished for a light in the darkness,” she told him. “I don’t think the stars would ever begrudge such a wish.”

Rhysand nodded solemnly. “It’s true that they would be begrudging themselves in doing so. But I see no need for you to wish for such a thing.”

Feyre looked to him. He was still watching her, but something in him had shifted. He was smiling at her gently, that lingering sadness already receding. “Why’s that?” she asked cautiously.

That gentle smile widened, showing off his brilliant teeth. “Why, Feyre, to find such a thing, all you’d need to do is look in a mirror.”

#prompt fill #anon request #Feysand #Feysand fic #Inner Circle #Feysand fluff because I can't help myself #mentions of rape #Mentions of SA #acotar #acotar fic #time travel

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