#anyway hes perfectly capable of looking good but only if someone else chooses his outfit

[literallyjustanerd]

Listen I love the man to death but if Rex was given control of his own wardrobe there would be no survivors 💀

Just be glad he didn't find the sandals this time...

i think they should be allowed to make fashion choices, i just don't think all of those choices would be wise

or: how social media came to be blocked within The Resolute's airspace

(kix can be a little goth. as a treat.)

[taexual]

i’d love you to stay but that’s simply insane // JJK (9)

       jungkook is an uncontrollable lead vocalist of the campus band, and you’re a goal-oriented top student that’s known his rich and complicated family since childhood. you don’t want anything to do with each other, until each other is exactly what you want to do.

pairing: jeon jungkook x reader

genre: college au

warnings: none, just the frustration of knowing that their plan to fake-date is 100% going to fail

words: 5.2k

  chapter nine

That Sunday night, Jungkook picked you up from your dormitory, having no idea that you’d just had a breakdown over what to wear when going to visit the parents of your childhood-best-friend-turned-fake-boyfriend.

You walked out of the building trying to look like you did this every night and Jungkook – who had a breakdown as soon as he saw the way you looked and realized that speaking was most likely going to be a problem for him tonight – tried to act like this wasn’t anything unusual, either.

“You look really good,” he told you politely – like a fake-boyfriend was supposed to – and even opened the passenger door of his car for you.

“You don’t have to do that,” you told him as he helped you inside even though you were perfectly capable of climbing into a car yourself – you’d opted out of heels and a dress out of fear of looking too formal, so your outfit wasn’t an obstacle. “We’re not actually dating.”

“I’m just helping you get into a car,” Jungkook said nonchalantly but he thanked God you didn’t feel how clammy his hands were. “That’s what friends do.”

You snorted. “Right. Okay.”

“Don’t overthink this,” he added before closing your door and jogging around the front of the car to the driver’s side. He climbed in and his eyes settled on you right away. “I… thank you. I didn’t get to say that before.”

You exhaled slowly. “Thank me after. We don’t even know if this is going to work.”

“What do you mean? How could it not?” he asked, truly thinking that his plan was fool-proof. He saw the doubt in your eyes, though, and felt the need to reassure you with a scoff and a lie, “I’m not going to catch feelings and blow the whole thing, if that’s what you’re afraid of.”

“Famous last words,” you told him with a serious look—that was more of a glance, really, because any talk about feelings made your head spin.

Jungkook only snickered at this. “I mean it. I’m very determined.”

“T-that’s not it, though,” you said then. “That’s not the part I’m, uh, worried about.”

“Well, tell me, then,” he encouraged. “Let’s get the doubts out of the way before we do this.”

“What if your parents don’t believe us?” you asked, turning your head towards him but not daring to raise your eyes above his waist. Which wasn’t that good of an idea as you came to learn as soon as your eyes captured the glistening buckle of his belt and his white dress shirt tucked inside of his pants. It’s been a while since you’d seen him dressed in something that wasn’t all-black and ripped.

“Why wouldn’t they?” he asked. “We’ve lied to them before, remember?”

“Yeah but that was, like, lying about not eating all the ice cream in the fridge. Kid stuff,” you said. “Now you’re straight-up going to fool your parents into thinking you’re dating someone.”

His features morphed in offense but, of course, you didn’t see that – his belt looked completely unfazed.

“And that’s so hard to believe, isn’t it?” Jungkook asked.

His voice gave away his emotions and you raised your eyes, somewhat surprised to learn that your words may have been insulting.

“I didn’t mean it like—” you started to say but found it pointless all of a sudden and changed the direction, “well, actually, I don’t know. I don’t know how many relationships you’ve been in for the past however-many-years that it’s been since we’ve last talked.”

You knew very well how many years it’s been and he knew you knew. Calling you out wasn’t something he even considered, however, because there were far more important matters to clear up now.

“Do you want an approximate number,” he asked, his face stoic now, “or should I break it all down in detail?”

You pursed your lips involuntarily, looking away again as your fingers toyed with the edge of your handbag. “Approximate is fine. But that’s not the point—”

“Zero,” he said. “I’ve never dated.”

Your eyes shot to his. “No. That’s—alright, no. Let’s establish something first, okay? Honesty is important if we’re doing this. We’re already going to be lying to our parents so let’s not lie to each other.”

“I’m not lying to you. I’ve seriously never dated.”

You didn’t believe that for a single second. “You’ve never been on one date?”

“Well, I went on that date with your cousin when we were nine,” he said, “but she threw a rock at me after I held her hand, and I don’t remember how it ended. Does that count?”

You snorted, unable to help yourself. “I remember that. Everyone thought she gave you a concussion.”

“Yeah. So, I just decided to stop dating from then on.”

“Be serious,” you warned.

“I am serious,” he insisted. “Well, not about that part, but I really didn’t date. Relationships are a lot of work, you need time for that. Dedication. Maturity.”

“The three things you don’t have.”

“Exactly,” he grinned, his ego too big to allow this little bruise to sting.

“Alright, well, if that’s really true—”

“It is.”

“—then your parents are definitely going to have a hard time believing you’re in a serious relationship. They’ll see right though this,” you said and he looked away, thinking. “I mean, the day before your car accident you were enjoying your single life, and now you’re in a serious relationship all of a sudden?”

“We’ll tell them we’ve been dating since before the accident,” he said. “My mom saw you at the hospital when you came to visit me, so it all adds up.”

You swallowed. “Okay. Let’s say we do that. But still – you’ve never been in a serious relationship before. Why would they believe that you’ve changed your mind? Maybe they’ll think you’re mocking them by bringing some random girl over—”

“You’re not a random girl, though,” he disagreed. “You’re you. That’s why they have to believe us.”

“I don’t—but why does it have to be me? Because we were friends once upon a time?”

“Well… yeah,” Jungkook said, not finding a better way to tell you that, even if you hadn’t been friends before, he wouldn’t have wanted to do this with anyone else. “Because of that.”

Exhaling and releasing some of your doubts, you closed your eyes. “I don’t know…”

He sighed, knowing that your uncertainty was going to suffocate you before the night was over but not knowing how to ease it. The truth was, he wasn’t absolutely sure what awaited you two in the future, but he really did believe that the dinner tonight was going to be a success.

“Look,” he started, “I get where you’re coming from, really. I do. And, if I did this with someone else, then my parents would definitely kick us both to the curb as soon as we showed up at their house. It wouldn’t make sense, like you said,” he paused, accidentally adding a dramatic flair to his speech, “but it’s you. Y-you… you make sense. Even if I’ve never dated before, dating you would make sense.”

If you would have been capable of any rational thought at that moment, you would've probably given in and admitted that he did have a point. The two of you had grown up together, it wouldn’t be so hard to believe that you eventually found your way back to each other and started a relationship. However, you were most positively not in your right mind as every organ inside of you was suddenly shutting down and making it very hard to sit still and not suffocate, so you chose not to say anything.

“Hmm,” you only managed, afraid to open your mouth in case you’d sound like a cat giving birth.

Dating you would make sense. Dating you would make sense. Dating you would—

“So, can we go now?” Jungkook asked after checking the time on the dashboard of the car. “We’ve been sitting here for over ten minutes, talking about this. I’m afraid I’ll lose all of my cold appeal if we keep going.”

Startled to hear that, you started to say, “it hasn’t been ten minutes…” only to check the clock and learn that, “oh, wow, it has.”

“Yes,” he said. “Time sure flies when you’re overthinking things.”

You glared at him – earning an endearing grin from him in return – and shook your head.

“Fine, let’s go,” you said then. “You’re the one who suggested clearing all doubts anyway.”

“Well, did it work?” he asked, starting his car.

“Not really,” you admitted. It actually made it worse since your heart seemed to have started to beat in many different places all throughout your body, no longer content with just your chest. “But it will be fine. If your parents don’t immediately kick me out of the house, of course.”

“They won’t. Don’t worry.”

“I’m trying not to,” you said. “But on top of everything else, I’m also naturally anxious when it comes to dinners with adults.”

He gave you a confused look. “You’re an adult.”

“No, but you know what I mean,” you groaned. “Parents are a different kind of adults.”

“Okay,” he chuckled, not trying to mock you because he really did understand. Then, in a yet another attempt to make you feel better, he awarded you with his million-dollar smile that he must have stolen from Prince Charming himself as he said, “if it helps, I’ll hold your hand through it. And I promise the dinner will go by smoothly.”

Jungkook started to keep his promise of holding your hand as soon as you stepped out of the car outside of his parents’ house. You didn’t say anything – choosing to give him a grateful smile instead – and followed him to the front porch.

In the few seconds that it took for his mother to open the door of this larger-than-necessary mansion, your heart dropped to your stomach several times and, if Jungkook hadn’t been squeezing your hand every now and then, you probably would have bolted and returned back to campus. What you were about to do was insane—

But there was no time to reconsider because, all of a sudden, Jungkook’s mother was in front of you, her pleasant smile turning into a surprised one as soon as she spotted you next to her son.

“Oh! Hi!” she said to you, turning to Jungkook with wide eyes, “I wasn’t aware you were going to—”

“Yeah, I wanted us to come together tonight,” Jungkook said and lifted your intertwined hands until it attracted his mother’s attention. She seemed even more surprised now. “I’d say I’d introduce you but you know each other, of course.”

“I—we do, of course. It’s always a pleasure to see you,” his mother pulled you into a hug – while Jungkook kept on holding your hand – never once making it seem like you weren’t welcome here. “Well, come inside, both of you! I was just setting up the table.”

She did make her surprise obvious as her eyes remained glued to your hands but, in her defense, she played her shock off very casually as she ushered you both into the dining room.

“Your father will be down shortly,” she told Jungkook. “I’ll go get the plates.”

“Could I help?” you offered. It came naturally – just like shaking her head came naturally for Jungkook’s mother.

“Not at all, love, you two get comfortable,” she said. “Dinner will be ready in a moment.”

His mother walked back towards the kitchen, leaving you and Jungkook alone but, with an involuntary glance over her shoulder – because she truly couldn’t help her surprise – she still managed witness the two of you continue your act as Jungkook pulled back your chair, helping you into it.

She smiled after catching this brief moment and went to check the oven, hoping that her husband – who was already climbing down the stairs – wasn’t going to make this dinner awkward.

You had to admit, Jungkook’s father didn’t react to you being here in the way you’d expected.

“What a wonderful surprise,” was the first thing he said once he saw you. You stood up to say hello but he was quick to dismiss you with a homely smile, “no, no, sit, sit! We’re about to have dinner.”

It was a funny sort of miracle how neither of his parents seemed to find the courage to outright ask what you were doing here. You had a feeling they didn’t want to offend you by asking – you did help them locate their son when he momentarily went off the grid last Sunday – but you and Jungkook couldn’t build his reputation as a trustworthy son without making the—fake—status of your relationship clear.

“I hope it’s okay that we came together,” Jungkook said when his mother brought the main course to the table.

“Of course!” she said, playing the role of a flawless hostess. “There’s plenty of food for all. And it’s nice to see you two here together again.”

You swallowed with a nervous glance at the boy next to you – who was clutching your hand under the table – but Jungkook never lost his composure. He seemed to have really planned this out. Or maybe he was just good at improvising.

“Yeah, we, um… we’ve been talking for a while now,” he said. Your stomach clenched uncomfortably but you hoped no one noticed you cringe. “Not in the way we used to, though.”

“No?” his mother took a seat next to his father, opposite the two of you. “Well, I suppose that makes sense, it’s been a while, after all. You’re all grown up now.”

Still no question to clarify the state of your relationship. Jungkook could feel himself start to grow agitated. But perhaps he should have seen this coming – his parents’ way of dealing with unexpected problems was pretending that they weren’t problems at all.

“We are grown up,” Jungkook said, throwing his father a sideways glance – which he ignored by not even lifting his head from the still-empty plate in front of him – and then looking back at his mother. “Which is why, I felt like it was important to let you know that we are back together now. Really, together this time.”

That got his father to raise his eyes. “Hm?”

“Yeah, we’re—we caught up with each other and decided to give a relationship a try,” he said, lying with relative ease even under his father’s stern gaze. You sure were glad both of his parents had their eyes glued to him and didn’t catch the unpleasant expression on your face. “We’ve been dating for a while now.”

“That is great news, my love!” his mother exclaimed and you weren’t sure which one of you she was addressing as she looked at you both. You barely had enough time to put on your best smile before, a moment later, her eyes returned to you again, “oh! Were the two of you already together when you came to see him the hospital?”

“I—” you looked at Jungkook for help. “We—”

“Yes,” he said with a warning squeeze of your hand under the table.

“Yes!” you repeated. “Yes, we were. I just—I didn’t think it was the right time to announce our relationship, you know? Since we were at the hospital, and all.”

“Oh, of course, of course,” his mother nodded, understanding. “Well, regardless, I’m very glad you decided to tell us tonight. A toast?”

She lifted her glass of wine – how typical of the Jeon household to turn every surprising turn of events into something to celebrate – and the rest of you followed.

The dinner went by surprisingly smoothly after that – just like Jungkook had told you it would – and, thanks to your past, his parents never made you two go through the story of “how you two met.” Instead, they asked you how you were doing at school and what you planned to do in the future. They seemed impressed to hear about your achievements – and even more impressed to hear about your ambitions – and Jungkook couldn’t help the proud smile on his face because he knew his parents were going to fall in love with you all over again.

“I must say, I was surprised when you two showed up together tonight,” his mother told you once your plates were clear, gracefully holding her third glass of wine in her hand. This woman could get blind-drunk and still remain one of the most elegant people you’ve ever met. “But I really shouldn’t have been, should I? It’s been a long time coming.”

“It really has,” his father agreed. You couldn’t decipher his tone and weren’t quite sure if there was supposed to be a hidden meaning behind his words.

His gaze was so intense, however, that you feared it was going to penetrate your mind and catch you in a lie. Lowering your eyes, you smiled and chose to sit here quietly because that reduced your chances of saying the wrong thing and ruining this.

“We’re glad to welcome you back into our family, though,” Jungkook’s mother added. “I always felt like we were missing something by the table at our Sunday night dinners.”

“Well, our son was what was missing most of the time,” his father interjected and you could feel the jolt that went through Jungkook’s body as his hold on your hand tightened. “But it seems like we’ll see a lot more of you now, yes?”

“Yes,” Jungkook said and then cleared his throat. He thought he sounded like a child every time he spoke to his father. “You know I’m trying to be more responsible.”

“That’s good,” his father said. “I hope this motivation isn’t short-lived.”

You couldn’t help your curiosity as you lifted your gaze to look at the man who’d fathered the boy next to you because, more and more, it was starting to sound like he was talking to a random neighborhood kid who’d misbehaved instead of his own child.

And yet, the look in Jungkook’s father’s eyes was warm. He wished well. He may have acted like he was thinking of the future of his company but, really, he seemed to have been genuinely worried about his son. He’s always been worried about Jungkook but the way he chose to express this worry – by neglecting instead of nurturing, by scolding instead of helping – wasn’t the most effective and his mother had been the one who tried to make up for it.

Just like right now, as she coughed coolly, diverting your attention from his father and giving her son a supportive smile.

“I’m sure it’s not,” she said. “He’s got a determined face. He’s not giving up.”

“I’m not,” Jungkook confirmed and looked at you with such care in his eyes that, for a moment, you forgot that this was all an act. “She’s helping me remain motivated.”

“Well, good,” his father said – and, for what seemed like the first time in his life, Jungkook didn’t immediately turn his head in the direction of his voice, choosing to look at you for a moment longer instead – as he straightened in his chair. “Don’t lose her.”

“Don’t worry,” Jungkook said, following the request you’d made in the car – he was going to be lying to his parents, but he was going to be honest with you, “I won’t.”

Even though the dinner turned out to be unexpectedly bearable and even pleasant, you still hoped you’d get to leave as soon as your plates were empty but Jungkook’s mother proved that she wasn’t just treating you nicely because you were a guest in her house – she was treating you nicely because she genuinely loved having you around again. So, instead of letting you leave, she insisted on serving dessert and then, much to your and Jungkook’s horror, taking the old photo-albums out.

You were certain that these pictures were going to trigger some sort of long-suppressed traumas as you and Jungkook stared at each other with wide eyes, alarms going off in both of your heads.

“Oh, this is a good one!” his mother said, coming back with a pale yellow album. “It’s from when you two were toddlers, so you probably don’t even remember these.”

“We might remember the pictures,” Jungkook pointed out carefully, not wanting to hurt her feelings, “we’ve seen them before.”

“Well, I should hope you did. Pictures were made to be looked at,” she said in an oddly profound way and then patted the couch on each side of herself, indicating for you and him to sit. “I know you two kids must have plans of your own, so I’m not going to bring the entirety of our photo library out. But, bear with me here, okay? It’s been so long since I’ve had you both in the same room.”

You swallowed thickly, realizing now that, in your suffering over your lost friendship with Jungkook, you hadn’t even considered the pain your fall-out brought upon your families who treated you both like you were their children.

“We, um—we have time for one photo-album,” you said and his mother’s face lit up. “It’s been a while since we’ve seen the pictures anyway.”

And it really has as you found yourself struggling to remember the context of the pictures – even though you had heard the stories about your early years so many times before – as Jungkook’s mother flipped through them, chuckling and cooing at how cute you looked when you were getting your diaper changed. Or how ridiculously easy it was to get you or Jungkook to stop screaming for no reason and photograph you.

“We just had to put you both in the same crib,” his mother said. “Ever since you were born, you were both fussy babies. You’d eat, you’d rest, you’d interact, and you would still keep crying. But your mom and I figured out a solution one night when we were tired. We moved Jungkook to your crib and the crying stopped almost immediately.”

You recalled hearing about this now that she mentioned it, but the story seemed to gain a new meaning now.

“We weren’t sure what would happen if we did this,” she continued, flipping to a new page where several pictures of you and Jungkook laying next to each other in the crib were taken, “but you seemed to calm down around each other. So, whenever we would come over to your house or vice versa, we’d leave you two to yourselves and, us, adults, would actually be able to have a night-in like in the old days.”

“And you weren’t afraid we would get into a fight when left alone?” Jungkook asked, always one to wreck a sweet moment as he mimicked tiny baby fists and the boxing fight he had in mind.

His mother laughed, shaking her head.

“You’d never. You didn’t even cry when you had to share toys with each other. It surprised us, actually,” she said and then she looked at you with the same warm gaze that Jungkook possessed, “your mom and I thought that this was because we had been best friends for years before you two were born, you know? We kept joking how our kids were naturally made to be best friends as well.”

You smiled but, once again, it was Jungkook who made a comment, “huh. Who knew friendships were hereditary.”

“No, no, I think there was something more than just an inherited friendship,” his mother disagreed with a soft shake of her head, “you two couldn’t even talk – you could scarcely sit unsupported – and yet you shared this calming effect on each other. There seemed to be this connection between you from the very beginning. It was almost bizarre at times,” she looked at you again as she continued, “one time, you dropped your favorite plushie through the gap in the crib and it landed on the floor. Jungkook, sitting on my lap as your mother and I talked in the kitchen, started to cry. Just like that. Completely out of the blue.”

“Maybe he heard me crying over the lost toy?” you suggested.

“No, that’s just the thing – you weren’t crying. He was,” she said. “But he couldn’t have known that you dropped the toy because your room wasn’t visible from where we were sitting. It was like he could somehow feel your distress. It was most peculiar and yet so sweet. It charmed everyone’s hearts whenever we told them. They, of course, thought we were exaggerating this, but—”

“I can see why they’d think that,” Jungkook interjected with a smile for his mother – as a response to the glare she gave him after he’d said this.

“—but that’s what happened,” she finished. “You two always had a special bond. It’s what brought you back together after so long, I think.”

She continued to flip through the pictures but she didn’t share any more stories. And, when you looked up at her face, you were surprised to see tears in her eyes. Unsure what to say, you waited for Jungkook to notice that you were looking at her – and he did, almost right away – and then allowed him to take control of the situation.

He didn’t know what the right thing to say was, either – asking why she was tearing up seemed impolite somehow, even if she was his mother – and, to be honest, he feared that she might have expressed her joy about your relationship if he asked her anything right now, and that would have made him feel guilty because he was, technically, faking it all.

So, placing his hand on his mother’s and, consequently, stopping her from opening the next page, he said softly, “this has been really nice, mom. But it’s getting late. We should probably get going.”

Sniffling, she looked up at the clock on the opposite wall of the room and then nodded, chuckling in a useless attempt to hide her teary eyes.

“Of course,” she said. “I was a bit much, wasn’t I?”

“Not at all,” you cut in quickly. “I’ve always loved your stories.”

“Yeah,” Jungkook echoed. “But we better get going before you reveal anything else about our childhoods and we learn that we’re long-lost X-Men with telepathic abilities.”

This got his mother to laugh finally.

“Oh, shut it,” she said with a good-natured smile. “I was just saying how you two are special.”

“Thanks for that, mom,” he said, kissing her temple. “But, still, we have to get going.”

“Thank you very much for dinner,” you said as his mother stood up to walk you to the door. “It was lovely.”

“Having you here was lovely as well,” she replied, giving you a hug – this time, without Jungkook holding your hand and pulling you back – and then, whispering in your ear so her son wouldn’t hear, she said, “thank you for taking care of him.”

And, meaning every word, you whispered back, “it’s my pleasure.”

When Jungkook stopped the car outside of your dormitory, neither of you was sure what to do next.

The story of a mysterious but powerful connection that his mother had told you still echoed in your head and it was this story that prompted you to say the first thing that popped into your mind, all so you wouldn’t have to wallow in the silence of the car and make yourself suffer, thinking about your possible destiny to be close to each other.

“Hey,” you said, “I didn’t get to ask before. Why does your whole car smell like strawberries?”

“Oh,” he seemed relieved to hear you speak, “that’s strawberries and mint,” he clarified and pulled a plastic bottle of Orbit chewing gum from the glove compartment, “it’s my favorite gum. Want one?”

“Ah. No, thanks.”

“Suit yourself,” he said, popping a few pieces of gum into his mouth. Suddenly, you regretted not taking one as well just to have something to do because the sight of his jaw moving was near hypnotizing. “So. Same time next week?”

You laughed, glad that the exit out of this unusual situation turned out to be far less awkward than you’d expected -- there was no guide-book on how to end fake-dates, after all.

It must have been the aforementioned connection doing its magic again.

“Sure,” you said, opening the door of the car. “See you then.”

“See you until then,” he corrected, leaning down so he’d be able to see you as you stepped out of the car and paused, peering inside. “We have class together and I’m an exemplary student now, remember?”

“Oh, right,” you played along. “Well, I’ll catch you at our Marketing test then.”

Jungkook was putting the chewing gum back into the glove department but he did a double-take after you said that. “We have—you’re fucking with me, right?”

“No,” you resisted the urge to grin. “The professor told us last week.”

He was confused. “Where was I?”

You shrugged. “I don’t know. Getting drunk? Starting fights? Crashing your car into—”

“Alright, got it,” he cut you off. “Can I meet you before the test? So we can compare notes?”

You scoffed. “Lots of good that’ll do me when you didn’t attend a single class this semester.”

“I’m a charity case,” he tried. “You’ll feel very fulfilled after having helped me.”

You weren’t sure if it was your natural inability to say no to him or his sparkling eyes that got you to roll your eyes and abandon any form of protesting you may have resolved to if you’d been talking to someone else.

“Fine,” you said. “See you before the test.”

Jungkook smiled, very pleased with himself. “Thank you again.”

“For the test?”

He looked down before answering, not wanting to spent the rest of the night thanking you for everything you’d ever done for him, but also not being able to find the words that would express his gratitude properly because, no, he wasn’t thanking you just for the test. Or just for tonight.

“For being my friend,” he ended up saying. “I couldn’t have asked someone else to do this.”

Your chest seemed to expand to fit all the butterflies, and, because you didn’t know how to deal with so many fluttering wings inside of you, you ended up replying teasingly, “why not? I think Taehyung would have done wonders fake-dating you.”

Jungkook snorted, shaking his head. “He might have. But I’d still rather do this with you. So, thank you.”

That was twice he’d thanked you now. If he’d have done it again, your chest would have most likely exploded.

“Anytime,” you said, your gaze lingering on his as you took this moment in. “That’s what friends are for, apparently, right?”

“I wouldn’t know,” he replied with an awkward chuckle. “Turns out, I don’t have a lot of them.”

“Well,” you said, not sure if saying this would make the situation better and yet not being able to not say it, “you have me.”

The thoughts in his head all stopped running and left his heart in charge of processing your words.

“R-right...” he said weakly and you gave him one last smile and a wave, and then finally closed the door of his car before walking away to your dormitory.

Jungkook watched you go, his head empty but his chest full. His breath hitching but his eyes alive. His body numb but his blood pumping.

He had you. He had you. He had you.

keep reading | masterlist

[grinlikecheshire-blog]

campaign efforts

LOCATION: Vernon Manor 

CHARACTERS: Charlie Atwood, Catherine Vernon

MENTIONS: Josephine Langdon, Hugo Duvall, Augustus 

SUMMARY: Catherine summons Charlie to the Manor after hearing (through Josie) about his potential support for Adriel as mayor. 

Charlie was, admittedly, a little nervous. He had spoken to Catherine exactly once before, and even then it was quickly cut short. It was as simple as explaining he was in need of a tutor, so to speak, and with the click of a few fingers suddenly everything had been arranged. He was so nervous, in fact, that he had gone through the effort of getting dressed up. He felt so indirectly shamed by his outfit choices the last time they’d met that he put on a pressed white dress shirt and dark jeans. He still wore Vans—but they were black, which was his definition of fancy footwear. 

 Sitting in her lavish, traditionally styled living room, he still managed to feel directly out of place. He felt out of place sitting in her driver’s car, and he felt out of place being ushered in by a butler. Even the black chair he was sat in felt wrong. Catherine in and of herself was beyond his league, but paired with her lifestyle, she operated on a different planet entirely.He had had half a mind to say no to this meeting, to express his plain disinterest, but not only did that feel awfully rude; he probably wouldn’t have survived to see another day. That was the kind of power Catherine had, and he knew without anyone telling him that that was the kind of respect expected of him if he were to stay in West Hollow. 

Drumming his fingers on his kneecap, he waited for Catherine to enter, already planning on standing when she did. Paranoia crept into his mind as it tended to when vampirism was involved—he was utterly convinced a side effect of his turning was the addition of paranoid thoughts—and he wondered if this had anything to do with his relationship to werewolves. Either his budding friendship with Finley or his near-death experience with the wolf in the woods were both equally unpleasant to be confronted with. Hearing footsteps echo throughout the house—and noting how suddenly ominous they sounded—Charlie stood, pressing his shirt down and free of imaginary wrinkles. He smiled brightly, “Catherine, nice to see you again.”

This election would not be lost like the last one. There was no in hell that she’d allow an angel to lord over them all, much less the human take control. Catherine barely took Evanora serious either — she had released a makeup collection to try and boost sales. While it wasn’t a horrible idea, but was a laughable one, in the sense that they were dealing with politics and not winning the heart of some 13 year olds over. However, to hear from Josie that one of her own was considering going for an angel over her was a damn disgrace, not to mention insulting. She thanked her lucky stars that she had kept the girl around for situations such as this one in which she could take the temperature of the vampire population and adjust accordingly. She also was grateful it was someone like Charles, who had clearly been so desperate to fit into their society that he was still training with Josie, and apparently enthusiastically. It meant he was open to direction and would be subservient to their cause more than anything else. Throwing him around or yelling into his face wouldn’t work, nor did she want to do such a thing. She knew that with Atwood, it would take only a little patience and some care.

And that’s exactly what Catherine did. Sending a car for him after informing him she wanted to speak, she was directed that he was here from her study. Having dressed in an imposing, but still professional, red dress, she made her way into one of the many living rooms he’d been ushered into. As the butler announced her presence when her heels clicked onto the wood flooring, she gave Charles a polite smile. “Charles, as is it to see you,” she said, her hand going out to shake. “Sit,” she motioned to the chair once more. As she smoothed the back of her dress down to sit, a maid whisked over with a tray of tea, setting it down on the coffee table between the two. Picking hers up, adding nothing to it, she began to speak, “How are you liking West Hollow? Josephine tells me you are doing well in your training sessions and that you look forward to them.”

"Right," he muttered to himself as he sat down. The thing about Catherine was that she somehow managed to make him feel even more anxious than he already was. Just when he thought he had hit his peak level of anxiety, she shows up in a bright red outfit —perfectly emulating power. She exuded confidence in a way that was familiar to Charlie, reminding him of his older years, yet altogether unfamiliar. Charlie had a reckless sort of confidence in the past, it would be more accurate to call it 'cockiness' than anything else. But not Catherine. She was entirely in the right to think of herself in the way that Charlie did not doubt she already did. "Please, call me Charlie," he said, unintentionally slipping into his old Victorian habits. 

 At the mention of Josie, his paranoid mind frantically hunted through their conversations in an attempt to figure out just what this interaction was for. It had to be for a reason; he highly doubted Catherine would waste her time just to chat. Especially with someone like Charlie, who was well aware and perfectly comfortable with the fact that he was a nobody. The last thing he had wanted to do when arriving in West Hollow was create waves, which is why he sought out to meet with Catherine in the first place. He brightened at the praise, momentarily forgetting himself, "Really?" He asked, showing genuine surprise that Josie had complimented him to Catherine. "West Hollow is a good place to rest, for sure. It's a great community," he replied, choosing his words carefully. Internally, his mind was repeating on one question: what is this about?

Charlie reminded Catherine of some vampires she had turned in the past, those who had asked for it and then realized how much different the lifestyle would be than pouring a little blood in their morning shake. And, on top of it, he probably thought she was here to scold him. Who would blame him, anyway? Vernon Manor was a house of power, literally. The place was imposing and downright scary, not to mention the woman who lived in it had been through very rumor under the sun in regards to what she was and what happened in it. 

But, he was not quite right, not yet at least — he was much easier to manipulate when he thought he was a friend rather than a foe, and that was exactly what Catherine intended. Sipping on the mint tea and nodding along when Charlie spoke, she set the glass and cup back down on the tray after he was done. “You may have some,” she waved her hand towards the other cup, waiting patiently for him, before clasping her hands back in her lap. “Josephine is very impressed with your dedication and progress. She has been doing this for a long time, and she is the best at it. I’m glad you two are getting along.” Her red lips pressed into a delighted smile, but it was mostly a farce. Taking a pause to look him over, as if contemplating whether or not she should say it, she then began to speak again, “I’m sure you’re wondering why I brought you here, and it is to talk about exactly that: West Hollow. Charles, would you agree that Josephine, who is a vampire like ourselves, is a good ally to have in a town so specially diverse such as this one?”

Charlie had a terrible habit of accent mimicking. The longer he spoke to Catherine, the more his own London accent returned, accentuating his words and causing him to slip back into an almost  (but not quite) Victorian style of speech. “Truth be told, West Hollow is a brilliant city, but I don’t expect I’ll be here long,” he said, as if to placate her, still believing she had some sort of problem with him. Then—panic: would she be offended at that? After all, what was wrong with her city (since it was essentially hers, as far as Charlie was concerned) that he wouldn’t want to stay? “I appreciate all that you’ve done for me, though,” he added, as an afterthought. 

 In the same instant that he had decided yes, he would like some tea, he practically spat it out. He hardly expected Catherine to ask for his opinion on whether or not he enjoyed the tea, let alone on such matters. “Uh, yes?” He questioned, before clearing his throat and continuing, “Yeah, I think she is. She’s a very capable person, and she’s incredibly loyal to people like us,” he said, meaning ‘vampires’, of course. Still, that was the second person to tell him of Josie’s praise, and he had half a mind to tease her about it the next time they saw each other.

His accent reminded her sickly of home, making her wish America had been more similar to London, but also being grateful she wasn’t still starving on their streets or some pitied “widower.” Hearing he wouldn’t stay long, though, at least as bluntly has he had decided he was going to be putting it, nearly made Catherine’s face crack from the professional and polite smile that it was carrying. “Is that so?” she asked with a raise of her eyebrow, letting him finish the phrasing to see if he would recover. When he thanked her for her work, it placated her slightly from the disrespect he had just doled out, and she nodded, “Of course. You should reconsider though.” saying no more on the subject. She’d use it later. like always, to make her point, but for now it could be left as is.

When he answered her question with a question, her head tilted, opening her mouth to speak for one second before he decided to explain further. God, he was worse than she thought — self conscious, nervous, weak, and unsure of himself. It worked to her advantage, but was tedious to get through. But, she got the answer she wanted in the end, lips curling up into a satisfied smile that would read to him like appreciation. They were instead the smile of a spider who had caught her fly right in the middle of the web. “Exactly — loyal. Just what I was thinking.” she gestured out to praise his “correctness” of the answer. Moving so her body was facing him more on, her torso leaned in ever so slightly as she began on once again, “In such a town like this, loyalty matters, I’d say, and from your comments I think you’d agree. While you mention you won’t stay long, I think it’s important that while you do, you have people who will understand your concerns personally. It wouldn’t have made much sense for me to set you up with an angel trainer, now would it have?” she chuckled out, wondering if he’d catch on what this was about from that. Taking her tea, she began to sip again, giving him time to respond.

There was something about the way she had reacted to what he’d said that almost made him feel as if he had said the wrong thing entirely. Which would be an absolute trip to discover, given that he had said it in the first place in the hopes of easing whatever concerns she might have about him. Perhaps it was the way she raised her eyebrow, or something slight in her tone. Perhaps it was nothing but his paranoia at work. Regardless, it didn’t matter. He couldn’t take it back now, whether it was stupid to say or not. “I’ve not stayed longer than half a decade in one place since I’ve been turned. It’s habit now, I suppose, to plan to leave,” he said, hoping his explanation would help matters. Charlie was quickly figuring out (though evidently not fast enough) that when it came to Catherine, honesty was not the best policy. Loyalty, however, was. “West Hollow is a difficult town for that, though. It has a certain charm, I expect a century will go by before I remember I wanted to leave,” he added, laughing.

Her head tilt only served to make him all the more nervous, which he expected wasn’t winning him any favours with the Queen of all Vampires. She was similar to Josie in that respect, though he found Josie to be a bit more...sensitive (then again, maybe he just knew Josie better and was making an unfair judgment), or at least understanding. In any case, both Josie and Catherine valued confidence. That much was clear. And while Charlie was typically lion-hearted, he also was intimately familiar with his place in the pecking order. He breathed out an almost audible sigh of relief when she seemed pleased with his answer. Loyalty he hammered into his head. “It’s a very valuable trait,” he replied, agreeing. “Especially with what’s going on, especially now,”

Just as he was starting to find his footing, though, Catherine pulled the rug right from underneath him. Angel. Now, anyone else—that comment might have been missed. But Charlie had learned a sort of paranoia over the years, one that kept him safe, one which without it nearly almost got him killed back when he himself was a killer. It flashed through his mind like some sort of horror movie. The passing comment he had made about Adriel to Josie, not even thinking twice—like an absolute fool—the way she had brushed his words aside with calculated nonchalance. It was all painfully obvious now. This wasn’t about him, or his friendships, this was about—like it always would be and always was—Catherine Vernon. Somehow, this knowledge, though noticeably paling him at first, granted him his confidence. At least now he understood. “Yes...an angel training a vampire would be obscene. We protect our own, isn’t that how the saying goes?”

Catherine listened to his story, about how he was migrant for the most part. For the most part, she didn’t care. His personal story was not interesting or really beneficial to her on any scale, but if it made him feel more comfortable to drone on about and try to win her over, he could do so. The accent that he was slowly slipping into showed that at least as it faded from the sort of Posh American to one like her own — something she had refused to give up for the sake of blending in. Catherine Vernon did not blend in, never planning to as she had forged this town from the cursed ground it lied upon. Once he had had said his last piece about it she nodded, putting the teacup back down onto the small plate, “I hope so.” speaking flatly and hoping he would get the hint.

Watching the realization come over his face, Catherine nearly bathed in the small body language ticks that showed her that he was feeling especially vulnerable to her words. He recovered nicely, at least, she thought internally. See, it was all a game, and now that Charles knew that he was playing, perhaps he would understand what it took to win with a woman like her. Her head moved up slightly to take in his words, nodding with a pleased smile. “That is right.” Standing from her chair, she then began to walk over to him as she continued to speak, her hands folding together in front of her and fingertips tapping against each other. “Charles, you have demonstrated to me excellent skill in understanding what I value and what is important in this town during our conversation thus far, and so I trust you enough to talk to you with the respect I hope you would grant me in return.” she started, “Especially now, as you mentioned, we are in dire times. The wolves are at our throats and a human is the Mayor right now, running against myself, the leader of the angels, and the Supreme of the witches. If you are to stay here, we must make things clear in how they will work.” 

It was then that Catherine decided to sit down in a chair next to his own, leaning to the side to face him, but still tight and upright in posture. “I care for all my vampires in this town, as I made this town as a refuge for all of us. This is a place where you can feel free to truly express your true self, but in order to do that, I need to be in charge to make sure that’s a success. Do you see where I’m going with this, Charles?”

Charlie certainly got the hint. Putting his own cup down, not realizing he had been holding it the entire time without taking a sip—ever since that first attempt nearly had him choking on his own spit, he refrained from trying again—and matched Catherine’s eyes. He would have to pull from his youthful years as a vampire if he were to survive this. Though, hopefully without the sheer disregard for his own safety. Essentially, he needed that dark confidence without any of the cockiness. He steeled himself, his face stoic and as empty as the apartment he lived in. If he were to do this, he would need to separate himself from who he was now entirely. If this was what Catherine was looking for, then so be it. He was nothing if not a social chameleon. And besides, he was learning a lot from her. For one, Josie couldn’t be trusted, and subsequently neither could Hugo. He wasn’t sure how fair that was—It wasn’t as if Josie betrayed him, she was just loyal and why involve Hugo at all?—but it wouldn’t hurt.

Normally, Charlie would flower at her praise. He was prideful, though he did his best to work against it, and words of affirmation meant a great deal to him (more than he would care to admit). But seeing as how he had recently clued in to her little game, he brushed any shine he might have showed aside, filing her words away as shallow and devoid of real meaning. “I’m nothing if not an excellent learner, Catherine,” he said, choosing to speak in layers like she was. “I may have my faults, but I most certainly respect you,” he said honestly, though he doubted it would matter much to her.

When Catherine made moves to sit beside him, it took all his effort not to jump out of his skin. She smelled nice, at least, almost soft. In fact, he was awfully impressed with how soft she sounded while likewise managing to look so hard. “It’s painfully evident how much you care, West Hollow and it’s children could certainly use a leader like you,”

Catherine was quick to note how his expression and tone changed from the more curious and eagerness it had held before, wondering how her words had affected him internally. Catherine had, from time to time, procured mind reading potions from the witches for such events, but found their cost excessive. With her newfound feud of the witch’s Supreme as well, such potions couldn’t be trusted to be delivered to her with purity either, and so she found herself at an disadvantage when it came to pinpointing if what Charlie said was 100% genuine. However, being genuine and being loyal were two very different qualities, and Catherine could be satisfied if he had the more important one.

Realizing a few seconds in that he was beginning to mimic her in order to try and communicate back, it made her smirk, impressed with the accuracy and challenge he had decided on. Her words were truthful, at least as truthful as they’d get with someone like Charles, and so she found it downright amusing he was choosing the path he was. Nonetheless, she found it at least a little thrilling, and would continue on. Nodding once at his agreement he respected her, “I don’t doubt you do. You did, after all, come and agree to meet with me in my home and follow through with the training I set up. You’ve been nothing but gracious.” she said, meaning it honestly. Like any Catherine compliment though, it had to be double edged, “Which is why it troubles me to hear any of my vampires misunderstand what goes on in this town.” 

 As he once more caught on, Catherine gave a wide, Cheshire like smile. “It’s children, yes,” she started, her head tilting for a moment to look over Charlie before she opened her mouth once more, “That is also how I see them, including yourself. Children need to be educated and guided, and while you may think the angel can do that as Mayor, they will only set out to destroy whatever they think they can’t cure out of you. This life we share, the life of blood and eternal youth, it is a great gift and a curse all at once. Only I truly understand what that entails and how to protect all of us, along with make sure those who don’t share our disposition are comfortable enough as well — but it seems like you understand well enough by now that when you get to the voting booth, you’ll make the right decision, yes?”

Charlie had met many like her in his travels—that is to say leaders—and yet had found he had not managed to meet someone quite like her all in the same hand. Catherine was unique in her similarities, that much could be said for certain. He had somehow managed to go thus far without angering the head of vampires in town, and he internally chastised himself for getting into this position in the first place. He had arrogantly assumed he’d earned her favour—or, in the very least and perhaps more likely: her disinterest—when he first came to her. He should have known better than to mention anything like he did to Josie, but he’d thought his comment was innocent enough.

As if reading his mind, Catherine seemed to sate his beliefs. He had, then, been successful in his attempt to make her aware of his unthreatening presence. “To be fair, I am still unbelievably new. I’m bound to have one—single—misstep. I can assure you, you’ve made things abundantly clear for me.” He replied, in the hopes that it would make his newfound stance clear. Catherine would become his Lord and Saviour if she needed to. If that’s what it took to stay in town, to stay close to Arabella and, above all, stay alive...then so be it.Her grin chilled him. So much had it reminded him of his own that he had half a mind to wonder if Catherine knew more about him than she let on. It wouldn’t surprise him, though Augustus was the only one aware of the truth of his past and Charlie hadn’t pegged him as anyone’s pet. Then again, he had made the mistake of making the same assumption with Josie, and look where that had got him? In the very least, her words made some sense to him. If her attempts were to manipulate him, she had succeeded. In a perfect world, he would be human, and he would vote for Adriel. But the life he led now was cursed, and his only feasible choice was Catherine. “You can trust that I will.”

Catherine listened on, and for a moment, it dawned on her that Charlie considered himself in trouble — and moreover, by her prized protege. Only a single eyebrow piqued in his direction as he talked about being new in town, more the cogs in her head turning in how to spin his words. That was what any good business woman did after all, was spin a situation in favor of their product. The product in this case was Charlie’s vote for her, a valuable resource all it’s own. Even though she was painfully and clearly manipulating him, she still wanted him to be comfortable. “Oh, you needn’t worry that I am looking down on you for what you said. In fact, I appreciate highly that we were able to have this sort of chat together. It’s hard to make truthful statements when you lack the knowledge of who Adriel or I really am.” Smiling once more, she shrugged casually, “Mistakes are learning opportunities.”

At his assurance he would do as asked, she nodded once, “Excellent, Charles. You have served us all well in your choice.” she stood then. “I think our time here is over, unless you have more you want to discuss with me. Otherwise, Maxwell will show you out.” Gesturing to the ghostly butler in the corner who was opening the door, she let him start walking before speaking again. “Oh, and Charles? Josephine was simply doing what was best for all of us. I’d hate to hear any bad reports about your sessions because of this, since I know you both enjoy them so much.” Catherine let the threat hang in the air, making sure he was left with the impression of her power and prowess as she stared back to him, steady and confident.

Her words only somewhat calmed him. It was appreciated that she took the effort to make him feel comfortable, but he knew enough by now to know that nothing about Catherine was particularly genuine. He wouldn’t allow her words to ease him, nor would he ever make such a mistake again. Mistakes are learning opportunities, indeed. Charlie had certainly learned his lesson. As far as he was concerned, now, the walls had ears, eyes, mouths…the whole lot. Besides, he wasn’t so naive to think that Catherine perceived him to be any sort of threat as it was. He was just a little ant who had strayed from the assembly line. “Well, exactly. I was clearly misinformed,” he said, managing to pull out his signature Charlie smile. It wouldn’t be a conversation with Catherine if she hadn’t let one final threat slide in, Charlie realized. It was almost…insulting. As if Charlie would be so stupid as to start issues with Josie and Catherine, the latter of which he had already done accidentally. He had clearly regretted it, hadn’t he? “Believe me, Catherine, you won’t hear anything like that at all,” he said sincerely. 

While he had deduced that Josie was no longer to be considered trustworthy, that wouldn’t mean that he’d go along and confront her. He did have some regard for his own life, after all. “Thank you, Catherine. I’m sure we’ll see each other again,” he said, though he hoped they wouldn’t. With that, he followed behind Maxwell and let himself be taken out of the house. Stepping out, he took in a long, shaky exhale: the breathing of a man who had been turned away from the gallows.

[queen-swagzilla]

Knights of Oberon, A Fairy Tail Fanfiction—Chapter 1

Rated: M

Summary: Almost a decade has passed since one of Fairy Tail's strongest teams, The Knights of Oberon, went missing on a job and left the rest of the guild heartbroken. Now, three months after Fairy Tail's victory at the Grand Magic Games, Lucy's seeing the full scope of their grief and loss—most notably where Gray and the Thunder Legion are concerned.

As she trains and learns more about her capabilities as a celestial wizard, strange things start happening in the guild. What happened to the Knights, and what on earth does it have to do with Lucy?

Like the story? Consider buying me a coffee!

Don’t know what’s going on? Read it all on Ao3!

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“We finally made it back.” Dag groaned, collapsing to his knees. 

“Well,” Ayla collapsed next to him. “Almost. But we’re probably never getting out of this rift, so this is as close as going to get.” 

“How long until we fade?” Nole asked, sitting next to his teammates. Ayla shrugged, eyes drinking in as much of her surroundings as possible. 

“It took a lot to get back to here. You too are running low on magic energy.” She muttered.  

“After the rift finishes draining our magic energy, it’ll absorb our kinetic energy, then our souls.” Dag continued. “I only use this space as a gateway. We’re only supposed to be in here for a few seconds at a time. We’ve already been here too long—living things can’t survive in here. That sealing spell is keeping me from getting us back out, though. That said, we’ve got pretty large magic containers, so it could be a while. It’ll suck, though.”

“Well,” Nole sighed. “At least we made it back to Fairy Tail.”

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“Morning Mira!” Lucy greeted the beautiful barmaid as she bounded forward to slip into her seat. They’d woken up from their seven-year nap only three months ago, and the Grand Magic Games had just passed. Winners. They were back on top with a brand new guild hall and an impressive underdog victory under their belt. Everyone’s spirits were high. 

“Morning Lucy. Your usual?”

“Yeah. Can you add protein? Capricorn’s on me about my diet and training.”

“Sounds good. Just give me a minute.” 

As Mira walked away, Lucy turned her attention back to the rest of the Guild. She was running later than normal, so the place was packed. Natsu was chatting merrily with Happy, Lisanna, Warren, and Elfman; and Erza was eating strawberry cake while discussing the merits of various weapons with Pantherlily. Levy was chatting with Jet and Droy while Gajeel napped nearby. Cana was still asleep next to a barrel of unknown alcohol, but it would be noon soon, so she’d be starting her day with a fresh flagon any minute.  

Everything seemed normal. That is until the Thunder Legion walked into the guild. They made their way to their usual table, but everything about them seemed off. Bickslow’s totems were conspicuously absent and he was scowling. Evergreen’s hair was in a messy bun, and it looked like she was wearing one of the guys’ training shirts and a pair of black shorts. Freed’s hair was in a ponytail, and he was wearing a training outfit too, looking unkempt and sullen. In the time she’d known them, she’d never seen Bickslow without his babies, nor looking anything less than happy—if not mischievous. Evergreen was never messy. Even in training gear, she looked polished and lethal. Freed, on the other hand, was virtually never seen outdoors without proper clothing and perfectly coiffed hair. Furthermore, she’d never seen any of the Thunder Legion in workout gear unless they were training. 

More than anything else, they just looked gloomy. 

“What’s up with them?” She asked Mira. Mira looked up from her task and glanced over at the Thunder Legion. She blanched, eyes flicking to the calendar, before dropping back to the task before her. 

“It’s not just them. Laxus and Gray will be in shitty moods, too.” She muttered. Lucy’s eyes widened. Mira rarely swore. 

“Your mood just tanked, too. What’s going on?”

Mira glanced around, taking in all the faces who hadn’t realized what day it was yet. She realized, however, that they’d all know as soon as Laxus or Gray arrived at the guild. They wouldn’t be quiet or subtle about it. 

“Nine years ago to the day, we received notice that a Fairy Tail team was defeated—obliterated. We searched for months and found nothing except scraps of clothes and armor from the fight. They were particularly close to the Thunder Legion, but one of them was Gray’s best friend. They’d been attached at the hip since he joined the guild.”

“Gray wasn’t talking to her when she left. They’d gotten into a huge fight.” Cana continued, sliding into the seat next to Lucy’s. “I don’t think you’ve ever been present or conscious for the anniversary. Gray’s awful to be around. You should go get a coat.”

Lucy’s eyes widened in surprise. “What, like he’ll lose control of his magic?” Cana shrugged. 

“He has in the past. When he wasn’t paying attention and his mood got worse. Especially when Ayla’s on his mind. He gets guilty and sad and angry and everything nearby gets frosty.”

“Laxus used to lose control, too.” Mira muttered. “Remember when we had metal bannisters on the stairs? One time, Gray froze them and Max got his hand stuck. Then Laxus electrocuted him on the way up to the S-Class lounge.”She glanced at Lucy knowingly.

“What’s that look for?” Lucy demanded.

“Your best friend and your wet dream are about to be the most intolerable people in the guild.” Cana chuckled. It lacked its usual level of humor. Lucy blushed anyways and socked Cana in the arm. 

“That’s supposed to be a secret!”

“Lucy, I’m hard-wired to spot romance.” Mira tutted. “I’ve known since we woke up on Tenrou.”

Lucy grimaced. “Anyways,” she grumbled. “Why were Gray and…Ayla fighting?” She struggled to remember the name. She’d never heard it spoken before. 

“Ayla was about to start dating someone that Gray disapproved of. He didn’t trust the guy, but Ayla was falling in love with him. Gray made her pick. She didn’t. She grabbed a job, grabbed the Knights, and left. We never saw them again.” Cana explained, voice soft and words quick.

“Who was the guy?”

“We haven’t been able to find that out. Whoever it was seemed to be overshadowed once we lost them. The Thunder Legion and Gray were…explosive in their grief. Everyone else was distraught. It really made us face our mortality.” Mira replied. “Then we lost Lisanna, and we were all in a serious funk.:

All of a sudden, the temperature plummeted. “Oh, shit.” Cana grumbled. Lucy glanced over at the Thunder Legion, only to see them look even more defeated, expressions dark and sad. Conversation ground to a halt around them. Macau and Wakaba’s expressions went blank before their gazes dropped down to their glasses. 

Natsu grew uncharacteristically solemn, and Lisanna’s kind eyes grew sad. Happy looked close to tears. Warren, Elfman, and Max halted their debate, and Erza went silent, only speaking again to quietly explain the situation to Lily, Carla, and Wendy as she waited for Gray to arrive. Levy quietly did the same for Gajeel while Jet and Droy wilted beside them. 

When he finally arrived, Gray looked terrible. His eyes were bloodshot—his hair and clothes rumpled. His cool facade was decimated. The Thunder Legion made room for him at their table, and he joined them wordlessly. 

“What job did they go missing on?” Lucy asked. 

Mira glanced at her. “Why do you ask?”

“So I know what kinds of job to avoid for the next few weeks. It’s my turn to choose.” She murmured. It was growing almost unbearably cold around them. 

“Solo mage kidnapping civilians near Clover Town. The research they did beforehand suggested that the Mage worked with some sort of Spatial magic, and that the citizens were being used as some sort of sacrifice.” Cana told her. Lucy, now shivering, cut her eyes over to Natsu. He met her gaze, taking in her frozen form. She felt the temperature in the room pick up. Not enough to piss Gray off—just enough to keep the entire guild from getting frostbite. Lucy shot him a sad but grateful smile. 

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“I hate that they’re still mourning us.” Ayla murmured. Her voice was raspy and thin—her skin pale and waxy. 

“You’d think they’d start to move on.” Nole replied. “It’s been nine years.”

“Not really.” Dag reminded him. “Nine for us.” His voice shook from the sheer effort of speaking. “They went missing for seven years, so it’s still fresh for them. Especially those five.”

“God, I think it’s actually colder in here.” Nole groaned, miserable. “I didn’t think it was possible.”

“They didn’t mourn together the second year. Only the first. That’s when Laxus went crazy and tried to overthrow the Master.” Dag continued, as though Nole hadn’t spoken. Then, he fell silent. They all did. Speaking too often used up too much energy. It tired them in mere moments, and began to hurt the longer they continued. This was a place of silence and stillness.

“I’m glad Lucy found Gray.” Ayla murmured, almost inaudible. “She’s good for him. For all of them, but especially him.”

“I can’t believe they’re a team. Gray, Natsu, and Erza.” Nole muttered. “And they haven’t murdered each other. If Blondie weren’t there…”

“If Miss Heartfilia weren’t there, they’d have either destroyed Fiore or never banded together.” Dag agreed. 

“I hope she sticks with them. Even after we’ve faded, I hope she’ll keep looking out for them.”

“I don’t think you have to worry. She’s incredibly loyal.” Dag muttered. “Even with the threat of eviction and destitution, she sticks with the team that spends most of their reward money on paying for repairs.”

Ayla smiled. “You’re right. They’re in good hands."

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[rileykay7-blog]

The Year I found Myself

It is the first day of ninth grade I wake up and look in the mirror, only for a second because I can’t bear how I look. I spend hours painting on my smile and picking the perfect outfit. Not too revealing or I am a slut. But not too covered or I’m prude. I grab my bag and make my way down the stairs, there is no one there… I’m not sure what I’m expecting, maybe just a little recognition from my parents like “hey it’s your first day of highschool have a good day” but the house is silent. All I can hear are the thoughts racing through my head, “you're not good enough, your parents don’t care about you they won’t even see you off for your first day.” I make my way to the outside world but stop in front of the cracked bathroom door, I poke my head in and a girl I can’t recognize stares back. My brown hair is shockingly plain next to my forceful smile and no matter how hard I try I can’t get the pained look out of my eyes. I shut off the light and dash out the door. When I get to school I see my best friend of six years, her names Jade and she’s the most gorgeous human being. She spots me from across the crowded hallway and wiggles her way through, a shriek followed by “RILEY I MISSED YOU SO MUCH,” her temerity engulfs her as she grabs me in a hug, her blonde hair all over me. She pushes me away at arm’s length and smiles her pretty smile, her teeth shining as usual. The bell sounds, “well I better go,” I say with a laugh. She looks at me one last time before we depart. *** It’s third period and I’m searching the room for any familiar faces, when I see him. He has the brightest pink hair and the biggest smile is set on his face. But this smile is different from all the others I’ve seen. It’s genuine. I look at him for another second taking in his baggy sweatshirt and skin tight jeans, completely transfixed. I tear my eyes away and continue to search. The bell for the end of the period finally rings and I rush out to find a table at lunch. My other best friend since third grade comes into view, the only part of her I can see is her curls, they bounce up and down with each step. I call out to her “AMANDA!” She turns and her teardrop shaped eyes seem to light up, she runs over and embraces me. She only comes up to my shoulders but she is still one of my favorite people ever and for the first time in a while I smile a true happy smile. While we hug I sense someone watching us so I turn around. A guy almost twice Amanda’s height is walking over to us. His blonde hair and rectangular body gives him the appearance of a cheese stick and I hold back laughter. “Hey Amanda,” his voice is deep and his eyes are bluer than the ocean. “Hi George,” her face turns red. “So remember how I was telling you about my best friend Riley,” her sentence drags and I look at her and then I look at him and it dawns on me. I take a step toward him and extend my hand, he grabs hold of it and as quickly as he’s there he’s gone. “I’ll see you later George right now I need to talk to Riley about something,” and just like that he leaves. His friends are waiting across the room and my eyes can’t help but follow him. Amanda tells me that her and George just started dating the week before school began. Although it hasn’t been that long, I still can’t help but feel a twinge of sadness. AUGUST I lock myself in a stall and slide down the wall, placing my head in my hands, I’m in quite the predicament. I have no urge to cry when I know I should. I think about all that just happened, who thought that in a time span of five minutes a friendship can be destroyed, a life ruined… an enemy made. I think back to a couple weeks ago when I found out that Jade had done drugs and was smoking with her obnoxious new friends. My heart broke the moment Amanda relayed the news to me a smile plastered on her face. I had asked her why she was smiling. She replied “Cause I’m proud of her of course, she finally did it!” She patted me on the back and walked off. I was left in complete shock. The next day I had confronted Jade and she lied to me, saying she had no idea what I was talking about. I vaguely remember myself telling her that Amanda must have heard a false rumor, but I knew. She was flustered as she walked off. She didn’t talk to me after that incident until earlier today. I was walking to my class when I heard Jade’s voice, I was about to head over to her when I heard a new voice that made me stop. It was that girl that I absolutely hated, the one that convinced her to do drugs. I heard Jade say “she’s so annoying it’s not like I even like her, can’t she just mind her own damn business anyway?” The girl laughed and replied “I know she’s such a loser she needs to get a life, I mean she’s obsessed with you.” It was like someone ripped out my heart and stabbed it repeatedly in front of me. They were clearly talking about me who else could it be? “Weren’t you guys best friends in middle school?” Jade chuckled “emphasis on was… Now she expects me to have no other friends, it’s pathetic” tears started to form but I blinked them away and walked up to them stopping right in front of Jade. She looked stunned. “Did you-“ before she could finish I interrupted “so that’s all I am to you? A pathetic loser who has no friends other than you? Well let me break it to you Jade, the world doesn’t revolve around you and I’m perfectly capable being friends with someone who doesn’t throw away a six year relationship to become a drug addict.” I turned and I could feel the anger boil in my skin, she grabbed at me about to make an appeal, and I pulled my arm away “Don't you ever touch me again,” I whispered wrathfully, glaring straight into those once beautiful and pure blue eyes. She looked close to tears. I scoffed “and I’m the pathetic one,” I turned again and I saw something I definitely wasn’t expecting, it was that kid with the pink hair that I saw on the first day. He reached out like he wanted to say something, his mouth half open, but I plowed through determined to not let anyone see me. And now here I am, sitting on the bathroom floor, a heap of bones and vengeance. LATER THAT DAY I’m at home in my bed numb. I can’t believe I did that. I can’t believe I just left her like that. I had to do it. I had to. She’s not the same person. My phone makes a noise, I pick it up and see it’s from Amanda. It’s a text. As I read it my breathing gets shaky and my heart starts pumping. It says “Hi Riley… listen we need to talk. So lately you have been extremely rude to me, Jade and George and we just can’t handle it anymore. I need to let you know that I don’t really want to talk to you again, I think it’s for the best that we go our separate ways, I mean George doesn’t like you that much and after what you did to Jade. I just. I can’t. I’m sorry.” I don’t know what to do. I can handle losing Jade, but Amanda too? I’m so full of emotions I feel completely detached. I hear a car door slam and my stepmom walks inside yelling at someone. It doesn’t take me long to figure out she’s yelling at my sister. Not capable of handling my family at the moment I discreetly slide open my window and jump out. It’s pouring rain, great. I don’t have shoes but for some reason I don’t care. I like the raw feeling of the cement on my bare feet, the rain coming down over head. I point my face to the sky and let it wash over me. A wave of realization hits. I just lost all my friends. Suddenly my feet are running. That’s weird I don’t remember doing that. I go with it, I’m running for what seems like hours. The only thing is the road and the memories I’m leaving behind. At some point I come across a river and I stop. I put my feet in the cold water and tears come hard and fast, and for once in my life I just let them flow no one's here to see it, to judge me. I can’t control myself I feel like I need to scream so I do. I yell for my cynical friends for my broken family, but mostly I yell for me, for the me that I left behind all those years ago. I cry until it hurts, I cry until I’m not even crying, just screaming. My hair whips around my face as I turn in circles like an insane person, it’s knotted at the roots but I don’t care. Suddenly I'm on the ground, my chest heaving and my vision blurry. *** I manage to get my sister to pick me up no questions asked after I calm down. I open my bedroom door and see my phone sitting on my bed and I shove it in a drawer. I don’t even bother to change out of my clothes, I just lay in my bed soaking wet and covered in dirt. ONE WEEK LATER My life is stuck in a loop. I wake up I go to school I go home I sleep. It’s as if I have no meaning as though I wasn’t meant for this planet that we call earth. But somehow I manage to get by. I sit down in my art class. We are told to draw something that represents us as a person, I choose to draw a broken compass. When my teacher asks why it’s broken I say because I’m lost. She looks at me weird before moving on. It is in this moment that I realize just how true it is. I am lost. I have no idea who I am anymore. I have no motivation, no hope. I don’t want to go to school but I also don’t want to go home. OCTOBER I walk into third period and sit down. In my peripheral vision I see a flash of color, turning I see a familiar face smiling down at me. “Hi Riley, I don’t know if you remember me but my name is John,” oh crap. This is the kid that saw me yell at Jade. “Um, ya hi,” I turn back to the front of the class and try to listen to the teacher. He pokes me, “do you want to be my friend?” I have a flashback to the day I asked Jade that same question, I feel a pang in my heart. But mostly I’m surprised. I look at him as though maybe he accidentally said that. I laugh “you want to be my friend?” He looks genuinely confused by this. “Ya, you’re cool,” I’m stunned “so… will you?” I’ve never been asked specifically to be someone’s friend. I smile “of course” I am absolutely beaming by the end of class. I grab my bag and head off to lunch. I feel a tap on my elbow and see Johns smiling face, he says “Riley, come meet my friends,” I walk over to his lunch table and their are people of all looks and sizes and genders. One girl comes over and hugs me. I laugh and hug back. He introduces me to his boy friend Max, who’s blonde hair has been crafted to perfection. I shake his hand and we talk for a while. Before I know it, it’s time to go to class. John walks me to my class and I whisper to him “thank you” he seems confused “for what” I wink at him and go to class. ONE MONTH LATER I am standing in front of the mirror, and for once I’m not disgusted. I see me. I see the beauty in my personality. Not just how my hair looks or what color my eyes are, but all of it. I see my friends in parts of me I never expected. I look at the dress I’m wearing, the pink color matching the underneath of my hair that I dyed a week ago. I hear a knock on the door and run downstairs, out of breath by the time I get there. John pokes his head in and when he sees me he runs in and gives me a bear hug. I see that Max is waiting by the door of John's car. I run up to him and give him a hug. He laughs, “are you ready to go?” We all get into the car and drive off to the dance together. MAY I rush into language arts late and sit down next to John as usual. Mr. kümmel is talking about an assignment. The assignment is to write a story about your life, something interesting it could even be made up if you wanted it to be. I sit for the first ten minutes just staring at my computer screen nothing coming to mind. Then, I smile. I type the title. “The year I found myself.”