#i have hair dye setting and I’m sure my hair dresser is like…what is she typing so intensely? 😆 | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

nctstar · 1 year ago

Note

hi! i just read "one, two..." with djj × female pairing and i was wondering if you could maybe do a jeno, haechan and mark/jaemin version? i love your works!

your wish is my command bsf <3 also thank you so much! means a lot :)

don't let us kinkshame you!

“Don’t talk back to me. If you want to stop, we’ll stop. But don’t stop because you’re shy. Tell us what you want, baby.”

“Yeah, _. Don’t let us kinkshame you.”

pairing: markhyuckno x fem!reader, stylist!reader

other members: chenle (poor dude has no idea)

word count: 7.2k

genre: smut

warnings: this is purely a graphic smut so minors please dni!! foursome, everything is consensual (safeword is established + mentioned), dom!marhyuckno (hard dom!jeno), sub!reader, fanfiction smut is a main theme in this, wet dreams, alpha/omega/beta kink, alpha!jeno, sir kink, sort of muscle/size kink (i'm sorry but bulging biceps make me go insane), unprotected sex (wrap your willy before you get silly folks), rough sex (reader is manhandled/held down), degradation (liberal use of the words slut, whore, brat + other degrading terms), everyone has a ginormous dick, slight praise kink, sort of pain play (not really) intense orgasms, squirting, fingering (fem receiving), humiliation, oral (male receiving), nipple play, riding, crying during sex, spanking, begging, punishing reader sexually, profanity

disclaimer: this is a fanfiction purely from my (filthy) imagination. I don't know the nct members and don't claim that they act like this in real life. I also do not condone any of the activity by any of the characters in this fic.

a/n: thank you anon and sorry this is definitely the nastiest thing to ever come out of my imagination and onto my laptop. i think i'm on some sort of watchlist for sure

“Have you read it, _?”

“Read what?” The sound of the hairdryer muffled most sounds in the room, including Mark’s voice as you watched his mouth open and close with his answer. Running your hands through Haechan’s semi-dry locks, you noticed a lit-up phone in front of your face. Squinting, you read while your hands worked.

poison | alpha! jeno x reader | 18+

You swallowed thickly, but quickly composed yourself. Swiping the hairbrush off the dresser, you glanced at Haechan in the mirror, setting his hair at the same time. “Sounds like more action than you two would ever get in a week…combined.”

Haechan rolled his tongue inside his cheek, playfully annoyed while Mark remained undeterred, his eyes still glued to his phone. His eyes suddenly widen, and he looks away, a mix of morbid curiosity and shock in his eyes. “Damn...”

Haechan sneered. “Got a boner there, Mr Lee?”

An empty can of hairspray bounced off Haechan’s forehead with a dull thump, Mark’s chair now swivelled around to face him. “Guys! Let me do my job! We only have, like, 2 minutes to go, and Haechan, your damn hair isn’t setting.”

“I have to dye it every 2 minutes because I have a comeback that often, remember?”

“Have you been using the treatment I gave you last session?”

“Why? Would you give me a reward if I did?” His deep brown irises glistened under the harsh white lights as he wiggled his eyebrows at you. Smacking his shoulder in response, you tried to hide the way your heart was fluttering inside your chest, like a million butterflies trapped in a glass jar. “Lee Donghyuck!”

“It’s okay baby, it’ll be better next time.”

“Gross.” Embarrassingly, you felt your core twitch at the mere thought of those words being taken out of context. “Such a dirty mind. You sure you didn’t write that alpha fic?”

You were getting brave, but something inside of you forced you to keep going. Haechan scoffed, rolling his eyes and swinging one leg over the other. “Yeah, I don’t have the hots for Jeno. Mark might, though.”

“Say it one more time, Donghyuck, I’m warning you.” Mark was shrugging the salon cape off himself, brushing lint off the stage jacket. He towered over his hairstylist, on her tiptoes as she fixed the strands of hair that spiked strategically on his forehead. His undercut teased you from the side, and you swallowed deeply, thinking about last night. As if on cue, Mark turned to look at you, as quick as you would glance at the barista for your morning coffee. “See you later.”

That was code for see you later with my cock down your throat.

∞

“Nghhh, Mark.”

“You’re doing so well, baby. Think you can go a few more times?”

You nodded slowly, the swollen bulb of his cock sticking onto the remnants of your lipgloss.

“Fuck, such a perfect slut. How did we get so lucky, hmm?” Your hair tangled in his long fingers, he pierced you on his thick length, tapping your cheek with his other hand when you gagged loudly. “Shhh, quieter. Don’t want anyone else to hear, yeah?”

You whimpered softly, desperately trying to open wider to accommodate him. He pushed you deep until your nose grazed his pubic bone, your hands immediately coming to his thighs as a reflex. “Good fucking girl. God, I’m so close. All for you, baby.” You pushed on his thighs when you felt your throat restrict uncomfortably, coughing up saliva as you soon as his cock left your mouth.

Mark tipped your head up to face him, your watery eyes staring back at him. “Gonna make you feel so good after this, yeah?” His thumb pressed down on your tongue hard, forcing drool to slide down your chin. “Use your words, slut. Tell me how much you need my cock.”

Mark was usually mean, but today he was mean mean, and, though you were taken aback, you couldn’t say you hated it.

Garbled sounds left your mouth as Mark slipped his other fingers inside your mouth, forcing you to babble nonsense at him. He laughed darkly. “So pathetic.”

“Mark, please.” You gasped as he released your mouth, fingers now grabbing your chin tightly. “Wanna make you feel so good, s-sir.”

“Wanna make your alpha feel good, baby?” You froze immediately, the word alpha stunning you into place like a deer caught in headlights.

You and Mark stared at each other for much longer than would normally be considered sexy, the energy in the air quickly changing into something painstakingly awkward. Not wanting to lose the momentum you both had gathered or, worse, discuss what just happened, you grabbed at his cock and shoved your mouth onto him, making him stumble backwards and groan. The air was filled with sounds of sloppy head, all caution thrown out the window as you bobbed your head through his orgasm, not stopping until you felt hot spurts of cum shooting down your throat.

∞

“Mark, I will never let you forget this.”

“Haechan, be serious here.” Mark unbuttoned the top of his jeans, breathing out in relief as the seams on the size-too-small pants released its iron-clad grip on his body. The inside of the car was dark, the only light being that coming from Haechan’s phone, illuminating the bottom of his face and lips, now curled into a teasing smirk.

Haechan leant forward, seemingly trying to hide the impending conversation from the poor staff member tasked on driving them back to their dorm. “You used the word alpha unironically while you were making _ suck your dick? I’m actually fucking dying right now.”

“Oh my god, yes, we get it, I tried something new and it failed miserably.” Mark hissed under his break, sneaking one glance behind him. “But what was weirder is…well, you should have seen the look on her face. It’s like she got caught or something.”

Haechan chuckled lowly. “Or maybe she was just weirded the hell out, Mark.”

“Well,” Mark scratched at his head, the hair gel residue now itching at his scalp. “We usually…do more. But today, she just ran out after that and didn’t say anything else.”

“Good job, Milk. You just ruined your chances at sex with her forever, you freak.”

Mark sighed, pretending not to have heard him and frowning as if deep in thought. Haechan raised one eyebrow. “You don’t mean to say…”

“What?”

“That’s not what you’re insinuating, is it?” The car began to slow, and both men became wary of the newfound quiet inside the car as they cruised down a near-empty suburb, the odd man or woman dimly lit by passing streetlights as the walked by. “What are you talking about right now?” As Haechan reshuffled himself on his seat to get closer to Mark, one leg brushed past his, and he cleared his throat, trying to be as unsuspecting as possible.

“You think she’s into that kinda stuff?”

“Well, why would she run away then?”

“Think about what we were doing before this.” The words felt unsure even as they left his mouth, hanging in the air with uncertainty. It was too ridiculous no matter how he looked at it. But just he had to say it.

The elephant in the room.

“Wait, wait. That’s her story?”

“Woah.” Haechan put down his phone officially, the car now shrouded in a new darkness, both men squinting to make out the other’s face. “I meant that she might have read it. Not that she…well.” He was visibly puzzled now, his voice faint but quick like a flurry of feathers. “I mean, there’s that possibility. But maybe she was into it, and you reminding her of it made her embarrassed.”

“But why would she be embarrassed? We do worse things, for sure.”

“Okay, first of all, gross. Second, she probably hasn’t accepted it herself. I mean, that fic…” He leant back, his jacket crinkling loud in the almost silent car. “There’s stuff in there that goes way beyond your regular wild kinks and shit.”

“She doesn’t strike me as that kind of girl.” Both men sit in silence for a while, letting that sink in. “I mean…she would be confident enough to be bolder about that kind of thing, you know? She’s the kinda girl that knows what she wants, when she wants it, exactly how she wants it.”

“Right.” Haechan bit his lip, trying to hold back the words that’s so fucking sexy for fear of being teased mercilessly for months. He knew you belonged to no one, yet there was a part of him that recognised that you would probably never choose him to have your way with. The way you looked at Mark, eyes glazing over in deep submission, a stark contrast to the way you looked at him, so many things hidden behind those playful, bratty eyes.

Mark hummed under his breath, phone now in hand. “She’s coming tomorrow, right?”

“Yeah, I think it’s her shift tomorrow.” Haechan didn’t think, he knew. He knew you worked Mondays and Fridays and the occasional Wednesday, always arriving between 13 to 16 minutes early to go to the bathroom first, stepping into the dressing room just a minute before and no later. It was creepy, for sure, but he couldn’t help it. He felt the need to be ready whenever you were there. He needed you to see him only in the ways he wanted, layers of banter and smooth mannerisms hiding his true feelings underneath, the way his heart slammed against his ribcage and threatened to break free whenever you moved close.

“Well, we’ll see how she reacts then.” Mark slouched against his seat, his voice fading away as his attention shifted, and Haechan marvelled at how five second thoughts of you had rendered him completely amnesiac to what he was just talking about with Mark. He closed his eyes, letting his body naturally drift off into an exhausted slumber.

∞

“Hey boys.”

Your satin-clad hips swayed back and forth as you walked, one hand re-applying your gloss for what felt like the dozenth time. “Anyone need a touch up or are we all good here?”

Mark was surprised at your easy demeanour, as if nothing was ever going on between you guys, let alone the encounter you two had had only yesterday. He cleared his throat, sweat dripping down his forehead as another staff member helped him unzip his top from the back. “You look…nice.” He wondered if it was obvious that he was trying to keep his eyes locked on your face, not wanting his gaze to linger too much on your body.

“Yeah, I’m dressed for the event after this. That’s still happening, right?” Your heels clacked against the linoleum floor as you stepped forward. Haechan was only two steps ahead of you, his hair in the hands of another stylist. You whispered something to her and she let go, walking away with the gel stick still in her hand. “Look forward.”

“Didn’t really strike me as the party type, _.” Your last name drawled off his lips, lazy and nonchalant. “Always stroke me as weird book girl in the corner type.”

“And what if I am?” You started backcombing his stiff strands, grimacing at the residue the gel was leaving and the way it was inevitably mixing with his sweat. “I can be both, can’t I?”

“Sure. You could be a writer, couldn’t you, _?”

Haechan could have sworn that even for a split second, a moment so small, so blink and you’ll miss it, that you hesitated. Your hands shook with the energy of a tiny hummingbird flapping its wings, so swift it stopped as soon as it registered. “Nah.” You sounded different now, like you were feigning innocence to hide the fact that he had cornered you.

Mark and Haechan shared a knowing side-eye as Haechan felt firm pulls on his scalp. “You should probably get going, Mark.” His name fell solid in the air as it left your mouth, as certain as a command would be, and your peripheral vision caught the ends of his body as he packed up his things and left soundlessly.

It was only you and Haechan in the room now, the other stylists now long gone (a/n: how convenient!), leaving behind only the mess of a true makeup studio, products strewn haphazardly across the plastic dressers. You watched Haechan lick his lips on instinct in the mirror, only now noticing the various sticky notes adorned with Korean letters you weren’t too familiar with. “No, don’t. You’ll mess up the- oh, never mind.” You sighed, but it didn’t feel relieving at all, as if your muscles were constricting up again instead of letting go. Haechan talked at your reflection. “Sorry.”

A whirl of your arm sent his chair turning so he was now facing you, bending over to match his eye level. “Hold still.” As your breaths played out of sync, you were hyper aware of every sensation. The way your hairs stood on end. The smell of his musky cologne now filling your nostrils. Your bare legs suddenly burning hot, slightly brushing against the inside of his knees. Your eyes fighting to stay up at his face and not stray downwards. “That’s it.” You glazed his lips over with your applicator, gripping the tube and the arm of the chair in one hand.

You were used to these intimate positions, particularly with the job you had. But, as you realised you had just applied your own lipgloss onto him, a different feeling was dawning on you.

As you locked eyes, Haechan spoke, bold and ready. “It would be insane if you didn’t kiss me right now.”

The first noticeable sensation was the sticky mess that threatened to spread over the edges of both of your lips, lewd sucking noises now filling the air as you both dived deeper. Your tongue flitted over his lips and he groaned. “Fuck.” Readjusting in his chair, he slapped his thigh. “Sit, sit.”

“No.” Pulling away, you turned his chair once again to face the mirror and patted his shoulder. “Stand up.”

“W-wh…” Confused, he stumbled off anyway, wheels turning and the seat rolling away from the impact of his stand. He turned to face you.

“Good boy.” You smirked, lips now grazing the supple skin of his Adam’s apple, hands travelling down to his pants. “Is this what you wanted all along, baby?”

He stared, eyes slightly glassy, rimmed with smudged black kohl. Tilting his head back, he breathed soft moans onto your skin as you sucked on his neck, red blooming onto his olive skin. “A-ah.” Squeezing his eyes shut, he gripped your hips hard enough to leave bruises. “Fuck.”

“Fuck, I need you right now, Hyuck.” Something about using his real name felt too intimate, affectionate even, and he kissed you as you unbuckled him, semi-stiff cock hitting your clothed pelvis. Pushing him back onto the vanity, you angled yourself, him eventually helping you by giving you a small lift once he realised what was happening. Up on your toes, one leg slightly elevated, you let your walls suck him in all at once. “O-oh, fuck.”

He thrusted upwards, iron grip on your hips unchanging as you clawed at his back, the studs on his jacket rough underneath the pads of your fingers. The pleasure was spreading to your chest, rendering you speechless. “Oh my god, oh, fuck, don’t stop, don’t stop.” You begged, feeling your thighs slip against each other as your own arousal dripped down your legs.

“_? You sleeping right now?”

You awoke with a gasp, your phone clattering onto the tiles as you sat up. “Woah, take it easy. You alright?” He leant over to pick up your thankfully intact phone, shuffling closer with one arm outstretched and eyebrows gently raised.

Before you was Lee Jeno, blonde hair grazing the top edges of his round eyes, body bulging against the thin fabric of the white shirt. His waist accentuated by a thick leather belt, you noticed the outskirts of his toned stomach peeking out from under his top. Gulping, you nodded. “Y-yeah. Thanks, um…” His name died on your lips, as if some sort of curse prevented you from ever uttering it.

“Here. You sure you’re okay? You were sleeping pretty deeply, even in this noise. Sorry, I didn’t know if I should wake you…”

“No, no, it’s fine. I mean, I’m the crazy one, right? Sleeping at a party!” You tried to laugh it off, but a snort came out instead, and you blushed intensely. Oh my god. This is so embarrassing.

Unfazed, Jeno smiled, eyes turning into semicircles as he did. “It would be fine if you went home, you know.” He tilted his head, blonde hairs perfectly aligning to one side. The charisma radiating off him froze you in place, and you had to unglue your eyes from his face. “Ah, yeah.” Truthfully, your body felt like it had been through a dryer, and your joints were cracking like popcorn. You needed sleep for sure.

He jumped from the couch, letting you bounce slightly. Looking up, he extended his arm. “Come. I’ll drop you off.”

∞

You felt exposed. Not only because you were in the skimpiest outfit you owned, but because halfway through you and Jeno’s exit from the party, he had decided it was too cold and had changed into a hoodie and sweats, making him look less and less like a colleague or client or even friend and more like an idol sugar daddy. Nevertheless, you didn’t oppose his company, and you both rode back in silence, his knees knocking into yours occasionally, making your heart flip each time.

It’s not that he made you nervous, typically, despite your tiny little crush on him. But it was the way he woke you up right in the middle of your wet dream with another man, mere hours after his bandmate had you on your knees sucking him off. Every time he leaned over, your name leaving his lips so effortlessly as you stumbled over yours, your hands shook with the thoughts than ran wild in your brain. Did he know? You wondered, as he droned over some tiktok video, whether he knew about your sexual rendezvous with his bandmates, some real and some imagined, and the uneasiness in the pit of your stomach only grew as time passed.

It didn’t change as you had reached in your apartment, him somehow still on the topic he was on in the car, now manspreading onto your couch as you sat quietly across from him.

“But like, do you get it, _?” He sipped on the coffee you had made for him, marvelling at how quickly he drank something that usually took you an hour to finish. “Not bad. But why would he even do that, you know? Maybe she didn’t realise that he knew, but oh boy, he definitely knew.”

“Right.” To be clear, you had lost the plot ages ago, shamelessly thinking more about how close in proximity your bodies were, how comfortable he suddenly was around you, and what it all meant. “Do you want, uh, something else.” Shyly gesturing at his empty mug, you tucked hair behind your right ear, the movement unsteady.

He stared directly at you now, letting your anxiety rise and fill the space between your bodies. Holding the gaze, he dropped the mug in front of himself on the table, only then dropping his head dramatically in between his collarbones. You frowned.

“Sorry.” He muttered. “I must be annoying, right.”

“No, no, not at all!” Your voice was much more high-pitched than a woman with any self-esteem, but you kept going. “I mean, that’s fine, Jeno, really. It’s nice to see you, like passionate, and um…” Your babbling continued, and he only smirked in response. Your stomach turned as you suddenly watched as his eyes change, darken around the edges. Suddenly the lights in your apartment felt harsh, exposing, like the lights on a fresh crime scene.

“_. I know about the fic.”

“What fic?” It was on instinct, but your ears starting ringing, blood running cold in your hands and feet. This isn’t real. This is another dream.

“Awww, don’t be embarrassed, baby. It’s okay to think those things about me.” He slumped backwards, one arm around the back of the couch, a subtle cocky smile starting to bloom across his face. “Markie told me how good you are anyway.”

“Jeno…” You fought the urge to gasp, your face burning from the inside out. “I, wait, um…”

“Shh, stop that.” He leaned forward with an almost-too-eager attitude, but he held himself back as he spread his knees wide, pointing at the ground. “Here.”

“Fuck, this isn’t happening.” Your hair whipped the sides of your face as you shook your head vigorously, slowly gazing up at his long frame as you did. You swore you heard him laugh quietly. “This is another dream, isn’t it.”

“So you dream about me?”

“No, it was about Hae-“ Jeno’s eyes widened before he guffawed loudly. “Fuck, _, you’re nastier than I thought. Was he good? Better than Mark?”

It was your turn to be shocked, eyes widening as he shook his head, letting his hair ride up his forehead. “Why, did you think it was a well-kept secret? Have you seen Mark? He glows with the radiance of a man who gets his dick sucked on the regular.”

“Jeno.” You wanted to be stern, but your voice came out kind of soft, almost like a whimper.

Jeno rolled his eyes. “Stop stalling, _. You heard me the first time.”

“But-“

“But what? If you want to stop, you can just say cherry. That’s what her Jeno told her to say, right?”

He had read the entire thing. This wasn’t real. This wasn’t happening.

As your body filled with an airy energy, you realised you were actually getting horny. He wanted you, maybe even needed you, and that filled your stomach with a mixture of trepidation and excitement. You slowly gulped, hearing the couch shuffle as you moved off it, walking over to him.

“Good girl. On your knees, baby.” You obeyed silently, eyes onto the floor as you waited.

“What are you waiting for, slut?” You felt Jeno’s rough hands grab the short strands of your hair, making you squeal like a tiny animal. “Do you wanna go home without tasting alpha’s big cock tonight, hmm?”

“Nnngh…n-no.” You eyes began to water at the force pulling on your scalp, hands fumbling around the waistband of his grey sweatpants. Your heart began to pound as you eyed the sizable bulge he was forming in his boxers.

“That’s it. Now hands behind your back.” As his length sprung out of the tight confines of his underwear, you cried out as it hit you square in the nose. “O-oh my god. Oh…fuck, wait, I don’t know.” Feeling Jeno’s unforgiving grip on your head keeping you dangerously close to him. you brought your palms to his knees, ready to push him away.

“What is it now?”

You shook your head, throat constricting already at the thought of his length inside your mouth. “It’s…well…fuck, it’s huge.”

As you looked up at him, you watched him give you a condescending smile. “Do you think alpha cares about you, baby, hmm? Why are you telling me all this? I don’t give a flying fuck. You either take all of me, or you leave. But you’ll leave a bad omega.”

Any other scenario where someone said something like this would have made you cringe, maybe even laugh, but today you felt your breath catch inside your lungs, as if someone was squeezing them extra tight. Word for word from the fic.

Whimpering, you folded both your palms around his girth, making him hiss. “Oh fuck, can’t even wrap my hands around it.” you whispered.

“You guys started without us?”

You jumped off your knees, your brain already forming the myriad of excuses before the initial shock settled and the words finally registered. “What the hell are you two doing in my apartment?” You glared at Mark, and now Haechan, who was slowly starting to come out of the shadows like a creepy stalker.

“Spare key.” The metal glinted as he hung the keychain off his fingers before grabbing it in midair. The same key you had handed Mark a few weeks ago, back when your little sessions were becoming daily (or multiple times a day) and you were sick of having to do the whole thing where he would have to come to your place an hour after you had arrived in case people were following him, or worse, taking pictures. He would have to wait into ungodly hours into the night on days you worked the night shift, which would let the spontaneous lust you had both gathered over the course of the day fizzle out by the time your tired body came home. You couldn’t be seen together outside of the workplace for various reasons, so having him come first carefully and you after had been working pretty well so far.

Except, well, for times like this.

“Mark!” You exclaimed, now fully facing him and closer to his lean frame, the waft of cologne hitting you as you trodded towards him. “Are you serious? You came here without my permission? And let someone else come too, at that!” Haechan acted insulted at this, mouth parting in mock surprise.

“I’m sorry, baby. But come on, Jeno had a great idea that we just couldn’t miss.” He brought one hand to stroke the side of your face, making you wince slightly. The ends of his fingers were like electricity, having more power over you than you liked to admit. You made eye contact with Haechan, and it was like you were back inside your dream. This. Wasn’t. Happening.

“I-wait…are you guys…seriously, what, you’re not saying-“

“Alright, talk over. Get over here, _. You’ve kept me waiting long enough.” Jeno let one arm hang lazily across the arm of your couch, another one stroking his length at an agonising pace. Your eyes felt like they were bulging out of your sockets, and your stomach churned nervously.

“Stop drooling and suck me off like a good omega. Come on, don’t be shy.”

You were on your knees again, Jeno’s cock at eye level, trying to ignore your newfound audience with a very telling tremble of your legs. Opening your mouth, you began to suck around his tip, the salty precum exploding on your tongue. You felt a hand on the back of your head, and you jerked away immediately. “Stop teasing. Come on, show your alpha and these dumb little betas what you’re good at.” You whined. “Fuck, fuck.” Choked cries filled the air as Jeno impaled you on his cock with one hand, his tip hitting the sensitive part of your throat and making you gag loudly.

As he pulled you off, strings of saliva attached him to your lips, embarrassingly making your core clench around nothing as you marvelled at how filthy this entire situation was. “So big.” Your voice was raspy, juices slathered over your chin as if he’d been fucking your mouth for hours. Jeno let you engulf him whole again, the sloppy sounds becoming more rhythmic as he bounced your face back and forth on him. “Hands off me and behind your back.” You balled your fists as you listened to him, closing your eyes as he groaned in pleasure. “So warm and tight. All for me, yeah?” You shook your head up and down as you hummed in response, looking up and him with your watery eyes.

You watched Jeno’s eyes drift away from you to something behind. “Ah, wait, let me get her off me first.” His voice changed now, you barely comprehended what was happening as you gasped for air post pull-off, before feeling a resounding slap on the back of your bare thighs. “Ah!”

“You think you can just leave me after sucking me off, baby? After all that we’ve been through.” You felt your skirt be pulled up, making you sit back on your heels. “Nuh-uh. Get up, let me see you.”

“Fuck, Mark, I didn’t me-oh!” This time he hit your ass, hard, jolting you onto Jeno’s thigh, his cock still grazing the side of your cheek. “Oh, fuck. Mmm.” You tried to shuffle forward but Jeno grabbed both of your wrists, pinning them on his thigh on one side. “Take it like a good girl.” The sting was immediately compounded by the feeling of our own arousal dripping down your thighs, the nasty realisation dawning on you that these assholes were recreating every scene that was written in that damn fic.

“Oh my god, I just wrote it, I didn’t…ah, Mark,” You whined as he squeeze a sensitive part of the plush on your backside. Between hits, you managed to sound out, “I, oh…ah, I didn’t write it for me – oh fuck! Nngh, didn’t mean it, oh my god.” Tears threatening to spill, you resorted to begging. “Mark, M- sir, please!”

“You called, baby?” Trying to turn your head uncomfortably back, you coughed. “I’m sorry, didn’t mean it?”

“What was that, hmm?” Two fingers in your sopping core and you gasped. “Ah, mmm, sorry, sir, ah…”

“So fucking wet. All from me punishing you like that. Is this what you liked all along, you dirty girl? To be our little sadist fucktoy.” One hand around your shoulders and another still knuckle deep inside you, he pulled you up so that your back hit his clothed chest, grip tight and unfaltering. You moaned, feeling the pads of his fingers curl up towards your g-spot. “S-sir, fuck, so good, so good, please…”

“Please what?”

“Please, want more.” You began to bounce your hips on his fingers, head floaty. A sharp slap across your face brought you back to reality, head whacking against the bony part of Mark’s upper chest. “Fucking whore, moving without permission like that.” Jeno was now gripping the ends of your chin, groin facing you once more. “Finish the job, baby. Don’t fucking care what he’s doing.”

“Yes, alpha.” You could have sworn you heard Haechan sigh, a mixture of pleasure and awe, but the moment passed as you took Jeno’s monstrous length once more, your jaw aching already. Mark took this opportunity to start fucking his fingers into you faster and faster. His teeth grazed your earlobe. “You like this, baby? Or you too busy tasting alpha cock to care?”

Your body squirmed under his arm, feeling his muscles bulge against you. Your head felt like jelly as Jeno pounded into you, one hand pushing your forehead down into place. You felt like a little doll being passed around, a slave to your desires, and you screamed as you came, liquid squirting out of your hole and all over your tiled floor as you did.

Your head began feeling floaty, but Jeno wasn’t giving in, and neither was Mark. You tried to get away from his fingers, core already sensitive from your orgasm, but he began to stroke your pussy once more, making you shake your head. Too much. The words were muffled around Jeno’s length, but they seemed to get the idea. “Just a bit more, baby. Tap me if you want to stop.”

Your hands in place, you let Jeno finish inside your mouth, cum leaking from the edges of your lips even as you swallowed diligently. “What a good omega.” Jeno cooed as you fell forward onto your hands, Mark finally releasing you. “Fuck, that was so good.”

“We’re not done yet, honey.” Your head whipped up, looking at Jeno towering over you, cock now hanging limp. “You haven’t taken your pretty boy-toy yet.”

Meeting Haechan’s eyes, you suddenly felt self-conscious at the way you were – skirt half up your ass, wet thighs and chin, a true testament to how much you had been used. Your eyes travelled to the unmistakable tent in his pants, dawning on you that he wanted you too. “H-Haechan.”

“Should’ve just told me you wanted me, baby? Do you know how many times I wanted to just bend you over and fuck you until you begged me to stop? Now I know what a perfect slut you are…”

“Fuck, Hyuckie…”

“Oh, baby.” He began to unzip his pants, hazelnut skin illuminated in the dim lights as you looked up, crawling over shakily. “Tell me what you want, sweetie.”

“Want you so bad. So…s-so much…”

He stopped in his tracks, eyes rolling and crossing his arms across his chest, much to your dismay. “Seems like you don’t want me that bad.”

“No, fuck, I do, I do, I-“

You felt Jeno’s hand land on the skin of your bare ass, making you flinch and look behind in surprise. “Go beg for cock, baby. I know much you need it. Don’t care who’s it is, do you?”

“N-no, I care, I do.” You weren’t sure why, but you suddenly felt frustrated, feeling like you were being teased unfairly. “I need all of you, please, please.”

“Use your words.” Mark’s voice was stern, unwavering, making you squeeze your eyes shut. You felt blood rushing to your head, impairing your ability to think.

“I felt alpha’s cockhead tease my entrance, and I sunk onto his thick length, crying out as I did. I felt so fu-“

“Oh my god, no, stop. Stop.” You tried getting up, but your legs wobbled, making you stumble forward ironically onto Haechan, his hands now on the sides of your arms, steading you. “You alright? What is that?”

“It’s the fucking fic, oh my god.” In the heat of the embarrassment, you hadn’t noticed Haechan drag you onto his lap, letting you hang your head over one shoulder as you buried your face in your hands. “So embarrassing.”

“Another man’s cock, possibly a beta, pushed inside me with my alpha. Nails dragging against my alpha’s muscular back, I cried, saying it was too much, the stretch ripping me apart, but alpha held me down, shushing me. Pain turned to pleasure and I threw my head back, letting my release spray all over the two men, passing out as soon as I did.”

“Holy shit. I hadn’t seen that part.”

“Yeah, it’s part two. She wrote that last night. Probably too horny to go to sleep, were you, baby?” Your tear-streaked face now facing Jeno, you shook your head. “No. I wrote it-“

“Don’t talk back to me. If you want to stop, we’ll stop. But don’t stop because you’re shy. Tell us what you want, baby.”

“Yeah, _. Don’t let us kinkshame you.”

Haechan now sucking on the thin skin of your neck, you gasped, eyes fluttering and your bare pussy now resting on his clothed bulge. “Fuck, uh, need to be fucked, filled, with both of you. Take another in my mouth, please, fuck, I wanna cu-“

“That’s better, slut. Begging to cum like the whore you are, rutting against him like a little bitch in heat. Go ahead, ride him. Do it properly or you’re not cumming again.”

Your hands scrambled for the zipper, Haechan throwing his head back as his hard, long length sprung out of his fly. He groaned and grabbed the back of your neck, squeezing hard as you pumped him impatiently. “Don’t tease.” Lifting yourself up, you aligned your soaking core to his tip, moaning in staccato as you let gravity let all of him be sucked inside you. “H-Hyuck, oh, fuck, so tight.”

He readjusted his hips, making your hair fall in front of your eyes and your hands slam, splayed out onto his upper chest. “Ah…” You moaned as you rode him, feeling every inch pound your insides, tip kissing your cervix with every thrust. Haechan guided your face to his and slammed his lips onto yours, letting your moans escape into his mouth.

Leaving love bites on your collarbone, Haechan dragged one hand under your shirt, rolling the ends of your nipples in between his thumb and forefinger. “H-Haechan, oh, wait-“ You cried out as he pinched the end, not hard enough to be excruciating, but enough to be uncomfortable enough to make you cry out, letting some of his length slip out. “Fuck! I’m sensitive, please.” You heard him shush you, your whines lost amongst the sounds of skin slapping skin as you rode him diligently, trying not to slow down as he played with your chest. “Just felt you squeeze around me, good fucking girl. You like having your body played with like a little brat, hmm?”

Jeno pulled your head back by your face, Haechan releasing your left nipple with an agonising pull, making you cry out. Bringing your upper body back to meet his, he wrapped one arm around the bottom of your stomach, firm and unforgiving. “You wanna take alpha too? Hmm?”

Incoherent sounds left your mouth as you felt Haechan’s cock slide out of you, tingling from the closeness of your orgasm. You felt a sharp smack at your core, making you arch your back. “Haaah…fuck! Yes, yes, s-sir!” Trying to shut your legs on impact, you felt Haechan pry them open again, and, with Jeno tipping you forward, you let him slide back in. Haechan wrapped one arm around the back of your shoulders, another on your lower back, pushing you down on him.

“Hghhh, alpha, please…” You weren’t sure what you were pleading for anymore, your voice sore from all that had happened already. Feeling Jeno’s massive bulb press against your core, your breath quickened. “Ah, fuck, what if it doesn’t fi-oh, ah…” You and Haechan moaned in unison, feeling the tight space get even tighter as Jeno pushed inside, inch by inch.

“Fuck, my little omega takes cock so good.” Tears ran freely down your cheeks, the stretch borderline unbearable but addictive. Your muscles sloppy, you gasped. “I’m so stretched out, alpha, please, can’t move…”

“Shh, you just lie there, baby, and cum when you need to, okay?” Jeno’s voice suddenly soft, you felt something warm spread across your stomach. “Yes, y-yes, alpha, trust you, wanna be good f’you, ah…” You cried softly as Jeno started sliding slowly in and out. “So good, alpha, so good, please, fuck me, oh god.” Jeno started picking up his pace, rendering you speechless, squeezing the back of Haechan’s neck as he jerked his hips up in sensitivity. “Oh my god, Haechan…” Burying your mouth into his neck, you felt a tap on your head as soon as you did, looking up in reflex. Haechan let go of your upper body, letting your hips roll against the two cocks now sliding in and out of you at a pace that was only getting faster. “Did you forget about me, honey?”

“N-no, Markie, ah…” Letting your chin rest against the arm of the sofa, Mark slid his cock easily down and out of your throat, letting the saliva messily drip all over his aching length. “Fuck, what a good cockslut. You think you can get me off again, hmm? Swallow it all like a good girl?”

You nodded, but a sharp smack to your ass made you shake and lose your balance, Jeno pulling you back onto his chest again. “Did you ask alpha for permission, brat?” You cried as Jeno pounded you ruthlessly, shaking your head and mumbling apologies in between moans. “What do you want, baby? Use your words. Or I swear to you I’m not letting you cum.”

“Mmm, wanna suck Markie’s cock, alpha, ah! And…swallow his cum, oh, fuck!” Haechan pushed his length harder into you as Jeno pushed your hips down. “Fuck, alpha, fuck, want you and H-Hyuckie to fuck me while I do it, please, please…” You sobbed as Jeno released you, seemingly happy with your words as he snapped his hips into you. “Oh my god…” Your eyes rolled to the back of your eyes, feeling Mark bringing your near his cock as the pleasure made your legs vibrate. “Hang on, baby. Cum with my cock in your mouth.”

“Alpha, cum, please!” You cried, voice disappearing as you choked around Mark’s thick length. Jeno tapped the back of your hips, mumbling something in support just as soon as you saw white, feeling your own juices spray uncontrollably and your hole constrict as you came around both of them. Haechan cursed as he filled you with his own thick release, Jeno pressing you down as he came into you seconds later. Mark used your mouth as you weakened gradually, muttering sweet praises as he shot his load down your throat, the bitter taste waking you out of your trance.

As you heaved, you wrapped your arms around Haechan, feeling multiple hands rub up and down your bare back. “That’s a good girl. Good job, baby.” You nodded, closing your eyes and drifting off, your body and mind well and truly spent.

∞

“Hey, you alright?” Chenle looked at you with a hint of concern, not clear whether it was directed at you or at his makeup that was now looking a little bit unusual. You shook your head with the tiniest movements, tapping his cheek again with a pale blush. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just don’t move your head.”

“Fine. You just seem different today.”

“I’m okay. Just a low energy day.” Beside you, Haechan and Jeno shared the smallest side glance, Mark smirking at himself as he changed behind the mirrors.

“Big night?” Chenle smiled at you through the mirror as you scurried around the drawers, looking for the angled eyeshadow brush, his hands adjusting his hair to his liking. You sighed, a true muscle fatigue-likes feeling spreading through your body and getting worse with each client. You were actually so tired, and, unprofessionally, not hiding it very well.

Then again, you were probably doing something that would be considered generally much more unprofessional, so you didn’t let it bother you too much.

“You could say that.” You slammed one drawer a little too hard, apologising immediately to the drawer and then rolling your eyes in frustration and embarrassment. “I-I think I’m gonna go to the bathroom real quick. I’ll be back.”

As your heels clacked away, getting softer and softer, Chenle got up, letting the salon cape fall away from him. “What’s up with her?” He mumbled to no one in particular before walking away. Mark soundlessly nodded to Jeno and Haechan, a nonverbal assurance that he would be outside, and Jeno patted Haechan’s shoulder as left shortly after, leaving only Haechan in that small backstage room.

As Haechan stared at his reflection in the mirror, makeup done and hair only half, he opened his lips, letting some tension escape his body.

He thought about you.

How maybe his little white lie didn’t technically hurt anyone in the end.

Technically.

Technically, you were the one who got fucked (in a good way) and got the money for translating poison.

Technically, you did write it. Just not from scratch.

Technically, you were also into that.

But so was he.

He remembered how embarrassed he was when you first found out, and what you said to make him feel better.

“Oh Haechan, don’t worry about it. Don’t let me kinkshame you.”

How right you were in the end.

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lubdubsworld · 4 years ago

Text

Better Man.

~~~~We might still be in love, if you were a better man. ~~~~

Taehyung x OC

Rating 18 +

Angst.

Implied Infidelity in the past.

Chapter 1 ~ Walk out the first time.

"Are you okay?" My mother's soft voice came from behind me and i panicked, hurriedly swiping at the tears that were streaking down my face. Heart pounding, I grabbed a bunch of tissues from the dresser, patting my face down hurriedly , making sure to keep my back to her.

"I'm fine, Mom." I said , voice surprisingly steady as I turned around to smile weakly at her. She stood near the doorway, a petite woman of fifty with greying hair and too many wrinkles.

I thought she looked older than she was and i knew I had a part to play in that. Sighing, I tried not to cry more, moving to gently take my son out of her arms.

He was four years old, fast asleep and smiling sweetly in his slumber. He had downy black hair, feather soft and warm brown eyes. He looked incredibly like his father, the resemblance stunning even though he was so young. I stared at him some more, laying him down on the bed and brushing the hair off his face.

"Are you sure there is no mistake? Taehyung ssi wouldn't hurt us like this..." My mother said, sounding broken and I felt a pang of sympathy. But also annoyance.

Us.

Us....like she had an equal share in the hurt I was feeling.

I was the one getting a divorce but my mother made it sound like it was personal to her as well. Like somehow, the fact that she now had to meet her friends and tell them that her daughter was divorced could compare to the pain I was feeling. To the sheer anguish that was filling me.

To be fair though, my mother had loved Taehyung very much. Her favorite son-in-law . My sister's husband had been a mean drunkard who had brought a lot of misery to our family. Taehyung by contrast had been a loving, filial son in law. He had cared deeply for my parents, paid for my father's funeral ( even though the man itself was nothing more than a drunk , cheating fool who had abandoned us ) and he had been the most kind man .

I swallowed.

Maybe , you should have forgiven him. Maybe , you shouldn't have divorced him . So, he slept with another woman. Fine. It was one night... just one night. you should have gotten over it! Was it worth it to spend all these countless nights alone? To break your mother's heart a thousand times over?

The funny thing was, i had forgiven him. Maybe right after I had found out. He had stood there, looking shell-shocked and horrified and his eyes had begged me for forgiveness and my heart had cracked , the way it always did whenever I saw him in distress. And when he had looked me in the eye and said, " I’m sorry, Jang mi..." I had forgiven him right then and there.

But it was the forgetting that was hard. The fear that it would happen again. The fear that somehow, I was the reason he strayed. And that kind of fear can be debilitating. For the first three weeks, I'd tried to pretend it hadn't happened. I had tried hard to see him the way I had always seen him but it had been impossible. everytime I saw him, my heart had broken anew. It had been hard but I had to accept that things would never be the same. That I would forever look at him and remember what he’d done. That I would forever wonder if he would do it again.

So we had done the wise thing.

At first a break.

A few days apart to get our head on straight. Then I’d found a job and I had to move closer to the office to make the commute easy. And then suddenly, I wasn’t seeing him even during the weekends , to spend time as family for our son’s sake. And just like that , a whole year had passed and we were separated. Only meeting to hand Hoshi over to each other.

"I'm sorry mother." I said softly. I knew that she blamed me, a whole lot for the separation.

People with children didn't leave each other over infidelity in my country. You hit your husband, denied him from your bed maybe but you didn't break up a family over one night of bad decisions. You just didn't .

But for me, it was beyond the act. It was the broken trust, the shock of knowing that some other woman had given him something I couldn't, the fact that he had even wanted it from another woman had been enough for me to crumble on the inside.

But, none of it mattered now.

He wanted a divorce. Officially. Wanted to end it for real.

It was jarring, how badly it shook me. I felt unaccountably lost and confused and disoriented. I couldn't imagine not being Taehyung’s wife , i realized with a stunning sense of self realization.

Call me irrational, but apparently, I couldn't stop thinking of him as my husband , even after two years. Soon he wouldn't be my husband.

He would be my ex -husband.

i hated that word.

It had such a plethora of negative connotations to it. When you hear it , you just brace yourself for unpleasantness.

Because it is unpleasant. A marriage ending, a family breaking, feelings hurt , hearts shattered, angry words tossed...its all a very unpleasant experience for everyone involved.

An ex husband was seldom a harbinger of happiness, more often a reminder of choices gone wrong, regrets and wasted time. and I didn’t want to associate Taehyung with a word like that.

Taehyung who was still the kindest, warmest human being I knew. The best father in the world.

I felt like someone had sucked all the strength out of me.

I didn’t really want to think about the call I’d gotten from Taehyung last night. An appointment with a divorce lawyer. It had been followed by an apology because apparently, someone in the law firm had let the info leak. And now it was all over the sleazy tabloids that fed on people’s misery.

It was impossible to escape it too, Taehyung was famous. An idol. And actor. The country's sweetheart. And he was the epitome of perfection. The beautiful, talented actor with an impeccable record of well behavior.

I knew that literally everyone on the planet thought he was a literal angel.

I remembered how much , by contrast, I had been hated when I'd married him.

I could just imagine how much more it would all be this time around. And i wondered if it bothered Taehyung too. Did he perhaps wish he’d never met me

It had been sheer luck that we had met....

In fact, if Jimin's car hadn't broken down right outside our home on that cold December night, I wouldn't have even met Taehyung. A great cosmic shift, somewhere some butterfly flapped its wing a certain way and suddenly, Jimin’s car ran over a thumbtack and his phone was dead so while he tried to fix the damage , Taehyung just had to knock on our home and I had been the one to open it.

Boom. That was it. Love at first sight.

I had been a high school kid and he had been barely nineteen. Fresh faced and cheerful , the struggling idol from a small company. He hadn't been surrounded by fans or chased by saesangs. He hadn't had security tailing him. No daesangs, BBMAs, or acting awards. No blockbuster movies to his credit , no chart-bursting songs either .

And I had fallen in love with that version of him.

The hardworking, talented young man who worked twice as hard as anyone around him.

That's right. You've loved him for fifteen years. So it's understandable that you're upset. Now, maybe you can move on too. Go on a few of those blind dates that Jiyoung is always setting you up on. Go live your life instead of being a zombie. Get a hair cut. Dye your hair red. Do something to get your life in order.

"I still find it hard to believe that he would want a divorce. Jangmi yah... did you tell him you forgave him? Tell him you wanted to try again..." My mother said again and the distress in her voice was equal parts heartbreaking and exasperating.

"Mother, I don't want to try again . We aren't married anymore. It's over, whatever it was between us. "

Whatever it was.

How cruel, to have all that love, all that affection reduced to a phrase like that.

What a pity.

"But what about Hoshi? He needs his father..." My mother cried out and I willed myself not to snap. She means well, I thought miserably.

"He has a father. Taehyung is an excellent father and you know that. Don’t start that again.”

My mother sighed.

"I still feel that this wouldn’t happen if you tried a little bit. He’s a good boy. Such a good boy and you could never do anyone better. Why are you so full of pride, Jangmi... so prideful...you should be a little humble. Think of the kind of man he is...where would you find a man like that ? And moreover .... Taehyung loves you. i know he does." My mother said stubbornly.

I sighed, feeling my fingers shake from the effort not to scream. I wasn’t strong enough to have this conversation with her. Not now. Possibly never. Taehyung did love me. Had never made any effort to hide it. But sometimes, love wasn’t enough. It just wasn’t.

And I wanted to yell at my mother she was at least partially to blame for me walking out on Taehyung.

My father had left us for another woman , when I was twelve. I had seen the toll it had taken on my mother and I just knew that I would never let a man do that to me. My mother had later confided in me that it wasn’t the first time. He had done it before. A lot of times. And my mother had always forgiven him. Let him back into our lives.

And one night, drunk on soju she had confided between hiccups, ‘ I wish I’d walked out the first time.”

And that had stuck with me.

Walk out the first time.

If he cheats on you , walk out the first time. Don’t stick around waiting for him to do it to you again. Walk out the first time.

And so I had.

“ Should I talk to him? Tell him you’ve changed your mind? “ My mother began and I felt my patience snap.

“No!! Could you just, for the love of God, stay out of this, ma? It’s over. Our marriage is over and it has been over for a long time. A piece of paper doesn’t really change that, does it? Its not my fault you can’t get over it but that’s a you problem. And you need to fix it yourself. “ I shouted.

My mother immediately recoiled, eyes shuttering down.

“Of course. You know the best. Who cares how anyone else feels, right, Jang Mi? You always know best.” She said softly, and I exhaled, shaken. There it was. The guilt trip. It was never ending.

Please... I just need to go now.” I moved to grab my bag, :” I need to go get ready for the meeting with the lawyers tomorrow. You can keep Hoshi with you tonight. I’ll come pick him up after I’m done and then I’ll drop him off at his father’s place.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

With Taehyung and I, our break up hadn’t been terrible.

It hadn’t been terrible because our own penchant for being terrible had always been very minimal. We didn’t do swearing or fights or threats and it always annoyed our friends that we got along so well. That it was so easy for us to forgive and move on with each other . That we were the one couple who didn’t hold grudges or bring up past mistakes.

Which is why, when we did break up, none of our friends had tried to change our minds over it. They had accepted it rather calmly, shocked at first because it was so out of the blue but not opposed to the idea itself . They just trusted us to know the right thing to do because we were easily the most mature , the most level headed couple in the entire group. We were usually the sounding boards , the voice of reason in whatever petty conflict our friends were involved in .

So when it was us, needling a little advice, a little guidance, our friends had been woefully ill equipped to help. They had merely hummed and nodded and empathized. Maybe that was another reason I’d left. I hadn’t considered the alternative. No one had asked me to consider the alternative.

Our friends had watched us drift apart watched us break up, but they hadn’t really asked us why.

Because if something had caused Kim Taehyung and Jang Mi to break up, man, that must’ve been a really huge issue.

So the break up had been amicable. Gradual and slow but mostly amicable, eased by our mutual love for our son. We wanted him happy and he was happy when we were happy. So we put on a front, laughed and joked in front of him and let him have some semblance of normalcy in his life.

It wasn’t easy.

From him, it had been nothing but a mess of heated glances, touches laced with intent and eyes begging forgiveness . every gaze of his was a silent scream for a second chance that I was not at all ready to give.

Because for me, the raw hurt and anger and frustration that bubbled up every time I saw him , it had nowhere to go. It stayed churning in my gut, made everything bitter and unpalatable and I wanted to hurt him for hurting me. How could I think of a second chance when the hurt from the first, was still so fresh, an open wound festering.

Self esteem in tatters, I had hated him fiercely.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The meeting was at his company, and I arrived at nine in the morning, with a few more minutes to spare. I knew the place like the back of my hand, was here at least once a week either to pick or drop Hoshi off and I knew that the conference room in the third floor was sound proof and cut off from the rest of the building for extra privacy.

Which was a little too late because I’d found two tabloid newspapers waiting outside my apartment this morning.

I opened the door carefully, surprised to see Taehyung sitting in one of the chairs, bent over a sheaf of paper on the table and next to him a leggy girl in a small skirt hovered, fingers resting lightly on his shoulder, bent at the optimum angle to show him her curves.

I sighed, looking away.

It was way too early for this.

“Mia!” Taehyung’s voice made me look up, and I watched as he stood up, pushing the chair away and moving to me . He was easily the most good looking man in the country. And he looked so good at thirty five that it was impossible to look away from him.

He was dressed in a pale blue shirt and black slacks and it never amazed me, how good clothes fit him.

I took in the broad shoulders, thick arms and the lean waist, the carefully styled hair and the breathtakingly beautiful face and sighed when he kept coming closer, hands held out. .

Of course, the customary hug.

i let him wrap his arms around me, my face buried in the comforting warmth of his body, the scent of his cologne filling my brain . He always smelled so good it made my heart hurt. I tried not to let myself get carried away. Tried to remind myself that this wasn’t anything more than a.....

A facade ? Or was it? Was his affection genuine?

Was I just too cynical?

I shook my head, pulling away and smiling a little at the genuine venom in the leggy girl’s face.

“Are you okay? Where’s Hoshi?” Taehyung brushed the hair off my face, eyes warm and I wondered if he’d forgotten we were here to get a divorce.

Whenever we met, Taehyung acted like we were still together.

No, that wasn’t it.

He just didn’t act like we had broken up. He was affectionate and open and cooperative. It always left me in a sort of limbo, unable to navigate our relationship with clear boundaries. There were no line to stop myself from crossing, because he just didn’t draw them.

“ Ms. Lee says we just have to go over the details like the alimony and the custody and the division of assets and then we can just proceed. Get it all finalized. “ He said casually, when I moved away and sat on the chair opposite him.

“Okay .” I said casually.

He smiled and turned back to the girl next to him.

“I’ll join you after the meeting Lisa.” he gave her a nice wide smile and the girl practically bloomed under the attention before bowing curtly in my direction. I watched her walk away, slightly amused.

“Bit younger than your usual type.” I commented , glancing at him. He gave me a look.

“I’m not dating her.” He shrugged.

“Does she know that?” I retorted.

It was dumb. Uncalled for. I was being a bitch, really but the urge to evoke some kind of reaction from Taehyung was something I’d never really out grown. I liked getting under his skin.

Taehyung sighed and gave me a little smirk.

“Are you jealous, Mia mine?” He teased.

It felt a little like someone had dug a nine inch dagger straight into my heart.

That stupid nickname.

God I couldn’t bear it.

Swallowing i looked away.

“Sorry. “ he said quietly, a few seconds later.

I nodded curtly.

“Don’t do it again.” I said hoarsely.

“Why not?” He whispered gently.

I groaned.

“Taehyung... “

“it’s just a name...why does it bother you so much?” He whispered.

“The same reason you’re asking me for a divorce.” I said softly.

He blinked.

“Mia...”

“Because we both know its time to stop.” I said quietly. “ Stop dancing around each other , stop doing...whatever it is we’ve been doing these past two years and give our relationship a name. “

“I’m not very fond of labels.” He shrugged. I glared at him.

“Well tough luck. Labels are good. Labels are great. They let you draw boundaries. “ I retorted.

“You sound like you’ve had enough of me.”

“Well, haven’t you had enough of me?” I snapped.

“Not even close.” He leaned forward gently, eyes pinning me to the table with a gaze so strong he may as well have used his body. And it didn’t help that two years wasn’t enough time to forget how it would feel if he had used his body. How it would feel to be stretched out on that table, him on top of me, hands working my clothes open, lips kissing their way down my jaw.

I could almost taste him, taste the minty freshness of his breath, feel his tongue in my mouth, the hardness of him inside me. My thighs clenched because I hadn’t gotten laid in two fucking years and even if i did, no one would ever compare to the man in front of me.

“Mr. Kim? Mrs. Kim? “

The lawyer’s voice broke the spell and i straightened, swallowing. Ms. Lee had walked in , and I watched her close the conference door behind her before locking it gently.

She was young, dressed in a business suit , a no nonsense bun and had small round framed glasses. She gave me a nice smile, shook hands with us both and placed her briefcase on the table before glancing between us.

“Shall we begin?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Author’s Note : its gonna be a bumpy ride.

#taehyung angst #taehyung smut #taehyung fics #bts fics #taehyung fanfic #bts smut #bts fic #bts fanfic

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titan-fodder · 3 years ago

Text

Prima Vista Part IV

[ previous ]

Rating: E (explicit; mdni) Pairing: Mike Zacharias x fem!reader wc: ~ 9.6k

Warning: a big helping of abandonment/daddy issues, lots of feelings, explicit sexual content A/N: y’all are gonna be so soft and then so mad lmao.

The plan was to go to Mike's house then back to campus. You said you didn't have anything to do at your mom's, that a long phone call would suffice, which is why Mike is confused when you ask him if you can stop by before going back. It's an hour out of the way, but it's not like he has anything better to do, and he'd be lying if he said he wasn't curious about your humble beginnings.

The house is in a decent-looking neighborhood, small, nearly identical one-story homes surrounded by cracked sidewalks. He has to be careful not to trip as you make your way to the front porch, pots of dead or dying plants along the edges of it. You shove your key into the lock, twist and open, then motion for Mike to follow.

The den is dimly lit, ceiling fan above with only one working bulb. A crime show is playing on the TV but there's no one watching. There is, however, another light pouring from a back room, and as soon as you drop your bag on the couch, a head pokes out from the doorway.

"Baby girl!" A shrill voice cries, and Mike sees you grimace. "I thought you weren't coming by!"

A woman walks into the den wearing long, cotton shorts and an old tie-dye shirt then pulls you into a hug so tight that it makes you cough.

"Mom," you take a deep breath as if to refill your lungs with all the air that was pushed from them. "This is Mike."

He holds out a hand and smiles, but all your mother does is stare with round eyes and blurt, "Oh, he's a big boy."

"My fucking god." You don't yell or whine, just pinch the bridge of your nose and mumble, "Just shake his hand please."

"Sorry, I'm sorry, just was not expecting… You didn't tell me how tall he was."

"'Cause it doesn't matter. Why would I—nevermind," you cut yourself off, face falling flat just like your voice.

Mike isn't sure if he should be flattered or offended or embarrassed, so he just ignores the comment entirely and says, "Nice to meet you."

You make your escape to the back, dragging Mike with you before shutting your bedroom door and leaning against it.

"Mom is a little weird, but you'll always know where you stand with her," you tell him. "Also, sorry about the house. She’s a teacher, so she’s usually pretty beat at the end of the day. Not enough energy to do a lotta cleaning."

"Didn't even notice," he reassures you.

Mike unpacks his bag next to you, and you gather the dirty clothes from both yours and his, balling them up and taking them with you out to the garage to throw into the washing machine. Mike should have done it at his parents', but as you were packing up that morning, his mother got all teary eyed and his dad just kept shaking your tiny hands and telling you to come back, so it just didn’t happen.

Back in the living room, your mom is sitting in an old rocking chair, and Mike thinks you'll take a seat on the adjacent couch, but instead you ask, "You need help with anything? Dishes or vacuuming or somethin'?"

She looks up at you, fly-away hairs sticking out around her temples and forehead and responds, "It'd be nice if you could do the dishes. I just haven't gotten around to it."

"Can do," you nod and walk into the kitchen, opening the dishwasher and making a displeased noise at the dirty plates and bowls inside. There's room for a few more, but once it's full and running, you just clean what's left in the sink by hand. Mike finds a towel, stands next to you, and holds his hand out for every scrubbed dish, drying it and placing it in the rack to hopefully be put up later.

"You hungry?" You ask when you're done and drying your hands. "It's almost one."

"Uh, yeah. I could eat."

Truthfully, he's starving having only had a small breakfast at his parents'. He doesn't want to say that, though, doesn't want you making a big meal for him or apologizing for anything.

"Sandwiches okay?"

Something in your tone has him on edge. Your voice is too quiet, deflecting downward as if you're forcing each word from your mouth.

"Yeah," he nods. "If you get the stuff, I can make 'em." Mostly so that you can relax but also because there's no way he's gonna let you make him a fucking sandwich.

You shrug your shoulders, grab bread, lunchmeat, cheese, and condiments, then say, "You can make ours. I'll make mom's."

He knows he's missing something, but he doesn't know what, and right now he's too afraid to ask.

He eats next to you on the couch, you and your mom watching TV as Mike tries to subtly glance around. Mounted shelves are decorated with dusty, mismatched figurines, cracks opening at the corners where the walls meet the roof. The brick fireplace is stacked high with plastic tubs and books, probably from your mother’s classroom, and the carpet has seen better days.

Mike isn't judging—not in the least—but he has a feeling he knows why being here puts you in a sour mood. The house feels lived in, cluttered and cozy and worn around the edges, but it's still empty somehow.

After the three of you are finished eating, you take the paper plates and dispose of them, then tell your mom that you'll be in your room. She gives you a soft smile that you struggle to return.

It's a little more you in the bedroom, blue walls covered in old posters and collages, a quilt similar to the one in your dorm folded at the bottom of your bed. Your pillow cases are faded and covered in an old flower design that matches your sheets, and there's a small nightstand next to the headboard that's bare on top with wrinkled papers poking out of the bottom drawer.

"It's not much, but if you wanna snoop around like I always do, feel free."

Mike doesn't really want to, especially since you already seem so uncomfortable in what should be a safe space for you. The only thing he feels okay investigating is the old bookshelf next to your closet—mostly YA novels, some poetry books, an old set of The Lord of the Rings series, a textbook over rocks and minerals and another over volcanoes. Tucked away in the bottom shelf is a tiny booklet that looks like a photo album, and Mike has to fight the urge to pull it from its place and flip through the plastic pages. Anything to get to know you better.

You lay in bed, eyes locked on the ceiling, and Mike doesn't know what to do. There's a very small TV sitting on your dresser, an old DVD player next to it, so he figures he'll save both you and himself from talking by picking out a movie.

He fingers through them, not that there's a lot, just skims the spines until he pulls out a copy of Space Jam. You only glance at the screen when the intro starts, and Mike immediately zeroes in on the way your jaw sets and your brows furrow.

"I can pick something else," he tells you quietly.

You take a deep breath and shake your head. Slowly but surely your features begin to soften.

"'S'fine."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah. My, uh…" You swallow loud enough from Mike to hear, neck bobbing with the motion. "My dad and I used to watch it all the time."

He doesn't know what to make of it or how to respond. In the months he's known you, Mike has never heard you mention your father a single time, and he's never asked in fear of what your response might be.

He moves your quilt to sit on the very edge of the bed, a little too tense as he heavily contemplates ignoring what you'd said and still switching movies.

"You can lay down, you know," you mumble. "I'm not gonna bite you."

"You have before," he tries to act casual, but it comes out too stiffly.

You laugh through your nose— "Suit yourself—" then get more comfortable on the mattress.

Michael Jordan gets pulled into a golf hole and the Loony Toons journey to retrieve his shoes from the real world. Mike is barely paying attention, more focused on the way your breathing evens out until it becomes slow and deep.

That's good. You could use a nap.

He watches you for a while, the way your eyelashes flutter against your cheeks and your lips part. You're all curled up on yourself, hands tucked under your chin, knees to your stomach, and Mike wants to slip behind you so badly, to pull you to his chest and lay with you until his heartbeat syncs with yours.

But first.

As carefully as he can, Mike stands from the bed and glides to the bookcase. He lowers himself in front of it, quickly finding what he's looking for and pulls it from the shelf.

It's a small little album, full of polaroids and old pictures cut in half. The first page sets the tone for the rest of the booklet, a photo of a very small you outside eating a popsicle next to a man that is most definitely your dad. You've got a similar facial structure as well as his coloring. Not to mention the expression he's wearing is one Mike has seen you make many times before.

The next picture is the two of you dressed up for an event. He's in a striped Polo and slacks while you're in a little checkered dress, a rose corsage on your tiny wrist. Some kind of father-daughter dance, Mike guesses.

Sitting on his lap at a fair, a chubby little boy a few years older than you standing close with a stuffed snake around his neck. A party where you're posed with an honestly frightening costume character. You in a bright, mesh jersey standing back to back with your dad, arms crossed, looking at the camera with your chins tilted upward.

They all look like good memories. The little boy in the fair picture appears several more times, and as he loses his baby fat, Mike sees the resemblance he shares with you and your father. It's too close to be a cousin—your eyes and mouths shaped the same—so he must be your brother.

Mike doesn't know how to feel about that because again, you've never uttered a word. As far as he knew, you were an only child, so why…

He gets lost in the pages, watching you grow and pose mostly next to your dad. Smiles and laughs and silly faces with your tongues sticking out. Your mom is in some, brother in others, and then, you're in a cap and gown, grinning widely next to your dad who's beginning to gray at the temples. His own smile is barely there now, a ghost of what was seen in the previous photos. It's forced, it's sad, and it's the last picture in the book.

Mike's chest hurts. He wonders what happened, when exactly you'd lost him. Was it a quick goodbye, or had it been drawn out and painful? Had he been sick for a long time? He'd looked perfectly healthy in all the shots. Maybe a car accident that took both him and your brother…

He flips to check for one last photo on the back of the page, but it's empty. However, tucked in a tiny, paper pocket is a folded up note that Mike stares at for a few solid minutes, debating the pros and cons of reading it. He knows he's already violated your privacy by looking through the album, and fuck, he's only been in your house for a couple hours at most—how has he already managed to tumble down such a humongous rabbit hole?

Your tiny snores reach his ears, and Mike gently pulls the note out, biting his lip as he unfolds it as quietly as possible. It's soft, like it's been read too many times, and the letters scribbled in all caps are beginning to fade, but the words are still legible.

It starts with your name, and then it's all apologies—sorry I can't stay, I have to leave, you don't understand how much this hurts me and so on.

Mike's eyebrows pull together the further he reads, blood pounding against the walls of his arteries, pulse picking up because he understands now.

Your father wasn't in any sort of accident; he just left.

The letter ends with a gut-wrenching, You'll always be my little girl, and Mike nearly crumples the paper up to throw away. He resists somehow, simply folds it with shaky hands and slips it back into the pocket at the back of the album.

He's never been so mad at a stranger in his life. This must be it. This must be why you are—

"Should've known you'd go straight for the photo album."

Your voice makes Mike's body jolt, his face heating as he turns to look at you with wide eyes.

"I'm so sorry. I didn't mean—"

You wave him off and prop yourself up on an elbow. "It's whatever."

But, it's not. It's this huge part of you that still affects you to this day. Mike is no psychologist, but he has a pretty good feeling this is the main reason you hold everyone at arm's length.

"Why didn't you ever tell me?"

"What's there to tell?"

Sitting up fully, your gaze moves to the screen just in time to see Michael Jordan step off of the spaceship and onto the baseball field. I Believe I Can Fly is playing, and you're gritting your teeth.

"It's not anything that comes up in normal conversation anyway. I wasn't just gonna hit you with it outta nowhere. Also," you look back to Mike, eyes still sleepy, lips pulling downward in a frown. "I'm not the only one who hid stuff about my family."

Mike sighs and quietly tells you, "That's different," as he closes the album and slides it back into the row of books.

"Is it, though? Is it really?"

"I..."

Mike shuts his mouth and actually thinks on it. He wasn't trying to lie to you about his home life or his heritage. He's only half Greek on his mom's side, after all, and he's only been to the country to visit family a couple of times—once when he was a child and once right before college. The culture is a little different over there, but it all seems so natural to him, especially after being raised to speak the language.

Honestly, he didn't ever tell you because he didn't think to, but Mike can understand the shock of walking into his childhood home and getting thrown through that loop. It must have been jarring for you.

It's a positive aspect of his life, though. It's not something that's damaged him or made him cold toward others. And, he hates describing you in such a way, but it's true.

At least it makes sense now.

"I guess not," he shrugs. He's not about to fight you on it.

You stare at him for a while, waking up a bit more as you rub your eyes and stretch.

Then, you flop back down on your pillows.

"So. Any questions, Zacharias?"

He's surprised that you're asking, and though he doesn't want to twist the metaphorical knife in your gut, he still replies honestly: "Too many."

A long exhale through your nose, and then you're patting the mattress next to you and grumbling, "Fine, I'll do my best, but you gotta come up here."

"Why? You gonna need to cuddle afterward?" He can't help but tease.

"Fuckin' maybe, dude! We're about to get into my god damn trauma so—"

Mike is up on his feet and flying toward the bed. He isn't about to sabotage the one fucking moment you're opening yourself up.

"Alright, what first?" You ask, trying to look bored, but Mike can clearly see that you're nervous.

"He left."

"Yeah."

And then he gets the full story.

Your dad was pretty perfect during your younger years—a bit of a workaholic but still good. He took you to dances like the one you'd both dressed for in the photograph. You'd spend days at amusement parks where he'd carry you on his shoulders. He coached the basketball team you'd played on as a child.

"Not saying he played favorites, but I was definitely closer to him than my brother was."

The brother who developed a drug problem at fourteen, who was always either out with his little addict friends or at home where he would just scream at you and your mom.

"He went to rehab a couple times, but it didn't stick."

He left home at seventeen and hasn't gotten in touch with you or your parents since.

"I keep thinking one day we'll get a call from the police saying they found his wallet on a fucking corpse, but who knows. Maybe he got clean. Maybe he started a family somewhere else. He'd be twenty-five now."

"Were you ever close with him?"

You shrug. "We spent a lot of time together when we were really little, but even back then he was kinda a mean kid."

It very quickly circles back to your father. Mike still doesn't feel like he has all the answers, so he asks through the skin of his lip, "Why'd he leave?"

At this point, you've got your head in his lap as he sits against the wall. He smooths your hair back from your face every once in a while, something his mom used to do to him when he was very young that always soothed him.

He hopes it's having the same effect on you, thinks it might be considering you've had your eyes closed for a while now, humming now and then as you talk.

"Honestly, I don't really know. I don't think he and my mom were ever in love. Like, they just kinda settled for each other," you sigh. "They didn't have a lot in common. They had different upbringings. But, they didn't fight or anything—not in front of us. They were good at hiding the hard times from me and my brother. They just didn't… click."

Mike bites his tongue, wonders if that was hard to watch or if you'd been too naive to notice.

Then, there's his second train of thought that's really just the voice in his head screaming, we click, though! You and I work! But he keeps it to himself. This isn't about you and him.

"I think maybe dad had, like, a 'stay together for the kids' mentality 'cause as soon as I graduated, he was fuckin' gone. And, I mean gone. We went to a graduation party the next weekend that lasted a few hours—just me and mom—and when we got back his truck wasn't in the driveway and his drawers were empty. He left that note you read on my desk."

Mike breathes. Just breathes. He tries to make sense of it, how someone could just do that without a real reason. There hadn't been any explanation in the letter, only apologies.

"Have you seen him since?"

You open your eyes and reply, "Nope," popping the 'p'. "I don't know where he is, and he hasn't reached out. Mom made the drive to my grandma's—his mom—but she said she didn't know where he was either. Pretty sure she was covering for him, though. She was always kind of a bitch. You know, save for the whole paying for my college and all."

Mike snorts at this, not that there's anything funny about the situation. It's just his first reaction.

You ignore it, moving on with an, "Anyway."

"Anyway," he mimics.

"I don't know if you've noticed in the short time you've been here, but my mom is a little… off. Not super good at taking care of herself."

"Is this why?"

"Clever boy," you show a bitter smile. "I didn't really understand since they weren't, like, in love or whatever, but… I think it was the betrayal more than anything. Like, it came outta nowhere, a big ol' slap in the face."

"Plus, he left you behind," Mike adds, as if you don't already know.

Looking up at him, you raise your eyebrows and smirk. "And, now you know about my abandonment issues." The last part comes out in high-pitched, melodic syllables, a little song that would be funny if Mike didn't know it was a coping mechanism. It most definitely is, though. He can tell that you're the type to mask every issue with humor and sarcasm. It's how you've been dealing with him for the last several months.

"So, that's my story," you conclude on an exhale. "Now you know all my dirty secrets."

"For some reason I don't think that's all of them," Mike pets your hair again. "But, probably the important ones."

"Mm. I guess."

The rest of the day is really just spent killing time. You cook an easy dinner that you refuse to let Mike help with, then sit in the den with your mom just like you did at lunch. A medical show is playing. Then a reality show. Then a game show. None of you say much of anything, and it's painfully awkward for Mike now that he knows what happened, but he can power through a few days of this if it makes you feel better.

Hours pass until you can retreat, and moonlight shines through your bedroom window, not that Mike needs it. He's memorized your body at this point, knows where to touch without even seeing. He makes sure to be gentle, to suckle and blow on your pebbled nipples as you card fingers through his hair and breathe faster and faster.

Leaving love bites down your chest and stomach, he sucks on your skin, gently grazing his teeth over every bruise. Mike wants you to see them all the next day—not a staked claim, just something you can't ignore when you look in the mirror, evidence of his feelings in every mark.

When you're finally nice and relaxed, he spreads your legs and licks into you, trying not to be too rough with his beard, but a few swipes of it over your clit leave you shaking in his grasp. You whisper his name, the common one that everyone knows him by, but then, rolling off your tongue like a prayer, you call him, "Miche," and he can't help the rumble that rises in his chest.

It should be strange. That's the name only his family uses, the one he was born with. He only simplified it so that kids in school wouldn't ask questions or make fun of him, and after that, it just sort of stuck. But, here and now, falling from your lips, it's so soft. So intimate.

You whimper when he sucks on your folds, making them swell, making them sensitive. And then, he's pushing his tongue inside of you and humming happily at the taste. His nose is bumping against your clit, and Christ, you even smell good to him—that ripe, tangy aroma that has Mike going a little crazy. He has to make sure he doesn't get too carried away. You can't make very much noise even with the rattling of the air conditioner, but as he slowly slides a finger into your pussy, he hears you moan around the fist you're holding to your mouth.

He stretches you just enough to get you ready, then he holds himself over you and pushes into your wet cunt. Your eyes are open, locked with Mike's as your brow raises and your jaw drops. It's erotic, something you've never done with him before. You typically either gaze somewhere other than his face or keep your eyes squeezed shut.

Tonight, though, you've been vulnerable and apparently want to stay that way for a little while longer.

He bends to catch you in a kiss, lips and tongues moving just as slowly as his hips, and when you reach to tug at Mike's hair, he pants into your mouth.

Those words are there again, stuck in his throat but slowly crawling upward until they're just there, pouring from his tongue, "I lo—"

Until you cut him off with a sharp, "Don't."

He makes a noise of frustration, wants to protest because he's so deep inside of you, and you're holding onto him like you want him—truly want him, but you mutter once more against his lips, "Don't say it, Miche."

So, he doesn't. He bottles the confession up and keeps it locked away, hoping like hell that one day you'll let him tell you.

After you climax and coat his cock in slick and cream, he gives a few more thrusts and comes inside of you, filling you with himself and wondering why you're so willing to accept him in that way but not in any other.

He's hurting again, like he did at his parents' as you walked around like you belonged there. Except it's worse now.

If you don't want him to say it, that means you don't want to say it back.

He stays with you for a few more minutes before pulling out. You leave to clean up, and while you're gone, Mike sits on the edge of the bed, head in his hands as he tries to get it all out of his system, whispering it out loud to himself:

I love you. I love you, I love you.

You still let him hold you as you fall asleep, gripping his hand until you can't anymore, and as Mike drifts off behind you, he has one last thought—Just let me.

* There’s only three weeks left of the semester when you head back to campus, and you intend to make the most of every passing day.

You pay better attention in class. You study harder in the library to prepare for final exams. You go to a few more Pi Alpha Kappa parties, making sure not to burn yourself out. And, you let Mike fuck your brains out every few days. Sometimes it’s late at night after those parties. Sometimes you're too tired after the nights of drinking and end up just going to bed only to wake up in the morning and have slow, sleepy sex. Sometimes it’s in the middle of the afternoon when you both have breaks between classes.

Neither of you bring up anything that happened over the break—meeting families, details about your childhoods, how much you learned about one another in general.

Most importantly, neither of you address that first night at your mom’s, the way Mike had basically worshiped your body, how he’d come so close to uttering the three words you least want to hear.

Thinking about it still makes your chest tighten, your heart beat faster. Sometimes when you’re sharing his bed with him, back pressed to his chest, large arm slung over your waist, you think about why it is you’re so vehemently against it. The two of you already act like a couple most of the time. You walk with each other to class when you can. You stick to each other’s sides at parties. You fuck like rabbits and don’t care who knows about it.

And, though you’re hesitant to admit it even to yourself, you’d be lying if you said you didn’t have feelings for him. Mike is your best friend at this point. He’s insanely hot. He’s goofy. He’s kind. Yeah, the frat boy persona he puts on around his friends is annoying, but you understand it a little better now. Plus, he always takes off the mask when he’s alone with you, giving both you and himself a break from it.

You know your time with him is quickly coming to an end—for about two months, at least—and whenever you think too hard about it, it makes you pout and huff. You’re not looking forward to your summer classes without him, but he promises on several occasions that you can call him while he’s at his parents’ if you ever need help with the material.

It’s impressive, the way he’s able to act like nothing happened. You know it must be troubling him, but it’s not like you can do anything to soothe him. If he was really upset with you, he would have stopped spending time with you, but he hasn’t. He just bottles it up, keeps smiling at you all crookedly, and keeps satisfying you in the bedroom (more than satisfying honestly. There’s really not a word to describe what he does).

He’s back to getting along with everyone in the Pike house, everyone being Erwin. It’s a relief just because you don’t have to put up with the tension between them, but it’s also awkward. And, a little frightening.

The brothers have Smash Brothers tournaments and movie nights, a few date parties here and there, and it never fails that at some point during the evenings, you find your neck prickling as it always does when you feel someone staring at you. You always hope it’s Mike. Fuck, you wish it was him. But, when you glance up and around, it’s Erwin. Every time. His deep blue eyes are trained on you, the corner of his mouth twitching upward on one side. It doesn’t matter if he’s alone or if he’s got Maddie or some other girl sitting in his lap. He's fucking shameless, and it makes your stomach hurt.

You keep your mouth shut for the sake of the friendship but also for the sake of Erwin’s pretty face. If he and Mike ever got into an actual fight, Erwin would probably be able to get a good few punches in, but you’re nearly positive Mike would end up destroying him in the long run. That could get him kicked out of school. That could get him thrown in jail.

Finals roll around, and you manage to pass all of them without issue, even getting grades above the class average. You feel fantastic, like your long term goals might actually be attainable. You have a long road ahead of you, but your GPA at the end of the year is more than enough to raise your confidence.

Mike asks you to come back to his house for the couple weeks between the end of the semester and the start of your summer courses, but you turn him down, too scared of what might happen while you’re there. Acting like a couple in front of his parents will only exacerbate his feelings as well as yours, and you’d like to avoid that as best you can.

Even now as you’re standing outside by the Jeep, he tries to persuade you one last time, almost pleading, “Are you sure you don’t wanna come?”

“Miche, I’m sure,” you tell him, trying to stay stern, but it’s hard when his sea glass eyes light up at the sound of his real name. It’s a habit you’ve gotten into, a bad one considering how much he likes it. How much you like it. “I already told you I wanna spend the free time I have at mom’s. I need to check up on her and… Probably clean, honestly.”

He lets out a little grunt of disappointment, then nods. “Yeah, I get it.”

“You saw what she’s like,” you remind him. “Someone needs to drop in every once in a while to make sure she isn’t, like, wasting away or something.”

“Makes sense. I’ll be bummed, though.”

“Be bummed all you want,” you smile. “I’ll probably still bother you over break. A lot.”

He sounds terribly sincere when he mumbles, “You never bother me.” It makes your stomach flip in the way you do not enjoy.

Mike sighs, taking in one of those deep breaths that makes his broad chest rise then fall, calling attention to it and making you bite your bottom lip.

“Alright, I should get going,” he concedes, bending down to kiss you too deeply for simple friends with benefits. It doesn’t stop you from humming into his mouth and smiling against him. You hold him by the back of his neck as he pulls your body close to his, his voice muffled when he tells you mischievously, “Don’t forget to send pictures.”

It makes you laugh, and you lean back to swipe your tongue over his lips so that he groans and chases after you.

“I promise I will. Perv.” The beating sun is nothing in comparison to the way your body heats at the thought. You’ve sent him nudes before, but the idea of him looking at them from hours away, fisting his cock as he admires your body through his phone… It makes seeing him off even harder.

After a couple more softer kisses, Mike swings into the Wrangler and pulls out of the lot. You stand in his parking space and watch him until he’s out of sight, then walk back to your dorm, dragging your feet the whole way.

You only stay at your mom’s house for a week, and just like you predicted, you spend most of it cleaning. She thanks you the whole time but makes excuses in between. You just reassure her that you don’t mind even though you do. She really should see a therapist and sort out the depression she’s been stuck in for a few years now, but telling someone they need professional help is easier said than done.

Sleeping in your old bed is much harder this time around. You're all too aware of the weight that isn't behind you, and most nights you lay awake for at least a couple of hours trying to imagine it.

Like you’d promised, you send him a few pictures, some of them just lewd selfies with your tits pouring out of the cups of your bra, but others are of your naked body in the bathtub, sometimes a shot of you with your hand between your legs. It feels wrong to touch yourself in your childhood home, but it’s necessary, especially when Mike sends you a few pictures of his own—one with his torso on display, defined abs absolutely mouthwatering and the V of his hips suggestively leading into mesh shorts. Another is of him in the gray joggers he wears all the time, the ones that always show off his cock.

He’s so fucking hot it atually hurts, makes your pussy throb as you crave his touch. It’s an awful feeling honestly, but even worse than that is the way you miss him. You aren’t supposed to miss him. You’re just supposed to be friends who have sex. Nothing more than that.

It's why you’re glad to go back to school. Your classes will distract you, keep you from thinking about him too much. The semester is shorter during the summer, so you have to work even harder than you do during fall and spring. You don’t really think it’ll be a problem since you’re trying to cram your brain full of anything other than Mike which is great motivation for studying.

Nothing is gonna get you off track, you tell yourself. Nothing will interfere with your studies. That’s the plan.

Then, you meet Zeke Jaeger.

* You're studying in the library. It seems like you spend most of your time here, nice and quiet and empty. The campus isn't nearly as busy in the summer as it is during the rest of the school year. No parties, no sporting events, just you alone with your books.

It's nice. Most of the time. A little boring but mostly nice.

Your eyes are getting tired, and when you check your phone, you realize why. It's almost eleven PM, meaning you've been studying for about six hours. You've had longer nights, usually spent on the phone getting quizzed on the information you're learning with a few breaks in between, but that wasn't the case tonight as Mike had to spend the day with family from out of town.

It's okay. You're supposed to be distancing yourself anyway.

Taking a deep breath, you pack up your books and slide your laptop into your bag, then stand and swing it over your shoulder.

The strap is too long. The bag swings too hard, and your heart sinks when you hear a little grunt followed by a, "Agh, hot!"

Turning with wide eyes, you immediately start apologizing, "I'm so sorry, oh my god, fuck, I'm so sorry!"

A head of light blond hair looks up from the brown stain on his white t-shirt, icy blue eyes narrowed behind wire-rimmed glasses, but when he sees the mortification on your face, his own expression softens, and he chuckles.

"It's fine. You can calm down."

You're still breathing heavily, guilt making your hands shake, but he really doesn't look angry. In fact, he's grinning now, eyebrows raised like he's amused.

The longer you stare at him, the more familiar he looks. You're pretty sure you've seen him before. Many times before, actually, and then it clicks that this guy is on the front page of the school website. You see him every fucking time you log in, looking much more stern than he does now. Baseball hat and jersey, mitt on one hand as he hides his other in it, and yeah, you know him.

"You're Zeke Jaeger."

He makes a face, scrunching his nose up and squinting. "Yeeeeah, I guess I am."

Best pitcher in the college league despite being a sophomore like you. He's beaten the records of some major league players.

You don't give a fuck about baseball, have never even been to any of the school's games, but you've been hearing about Zeke since the last season. You've learned to tune it out because, again, no shits given (and also you're much more partial to lacrosse now), but he's hard to ignore when he's staring you right in the face.

"Well, uh," you try to act casual. It's something you're pretty good at these days. "Cool."

He snorts, picking his shirt off his chest to air it out like it'll help, then says, "I don't know your name, though."

You run your tongue over your teeth, wondering why he cares, then introduce yourself.

"Oh, you're Zacharias' little girlfriend, aren't you?"

Your stomach flips at the mention of him.

"We're not dating."

Zeke cocks his head to the side. "No?"

"No. Just friends."

He hums but doesn't say anything, and your eyes are once again drawn to his chest as he fans over the stain.

"Okay, let me get you a new shirt or something," you try.

He laughs again. "I highly doubt you've got a men's shirt tucked in that bag of yours, sweetheart."

"I—" you pout for a second, mumble, "Okay, yeah, fair point."

"Another coffee, though," he muses out loud. "Wouldn't be the worst thing."

You shoot him a finger gun and smack your lips. "On it. Where do you get coffee at eleven o'clock?"

"I'll walk with you," he states more than offers.

Then, you're both leaving the library, leaving campus, and going to a little 24 hour cafe where you blow on lattes and cover the basics about each other—philosophy major, valedictorian of his high school class, playing baseball since age seven, etc. You should sleep. You should get ready for another long day of studying.

But it's hard to make good decisions when Zeke Jaeger is smirking at you from across the table like you're the most interesting thing he's ever seen.

* Zeke gets your number that night. You're not exactly sure how, but he does.

Then he doesn’t text you for three days. It doesn’t bother you that much. You figure he has other things to focus on. He’s on campus to take a couple courses and practice for the upcoming season, so he’s probably just busy. If that night had just been a one-off, it’s fine with you. It was cool to talk to him, but your heart isn’t broken.

These are all the thoughts and justifications running through your head when you’re in class on Tuesday and your phone lights up during the PowerPoint lecture. You glance down, expecting Mike or Hitch, but it’s an unknown number instead. Eyes flicking from the projection screen to your much tinier one, you slide to open the message and chew on your lip.

Hey, it’s Zeke. You have classes this afternoon?

You do not. And, you are too quick to tell him that.

He takes you to a little Mom and Pop restaurant, too far to walk so you end up riding in the black Bronco he drives, trying to convince yourself that it definitely does not make him any more attractive to you. Because you aren’t attracted to him in the first place. Right?

You sit at a table for two eating paninis and fruit. Zeke asks how classes are going, you ask about practice, and as you talk, he gets that look in his eyes again, like you amuse him or interest him or something.

It confuses you, and for a moment, you’re taken back to last fall at that first Pi Kappa Alpha party, the one you met Mike at when he tried to get you to shotgun a beer. God, he had been so obnoxious back then, always following you around and flirting and—

“You listening, sweetheart?”

Your eyes refocus on the man in front of you, his raised eyebrows and little smirk. “Looks like you’re a million miles away. Sorry if I’m boring you.”

“No, no,” you try to defend. “I just zoned out for a second. Realized I, uh, got an answer wrong on the quiz I took today.”

“That sucks,” he hums. “Anyway, I can stop talking about baseball.”

“It’s okay. Just go over the last, like, ten seconds,” you say with a laugh, hoping your cheeks will stop burning sooner rather than later.

Zeke chuckles and does just that, doesn’t seem irritated or put out. He tells you about how he has a new trainer this year to warm him up and make sure his throwing arm is in top shape. “I hope he’s as good as my last. Colt was always on it, knew exactly how hot to make the warm compresses and how cold to make the ice packs. Stuff like that. He learned my needs.”

You both laugh, and if it was anyone else, you’d have an innuendo sliding off your tongue, but for some reason, you don’t think Zeke would want to hear it, like he’d be unimpressed with your vulgar humor.

Back at the college, he drives you to your dorm, explaining that he lives in the apartments on the other side of campus and wouldn’t want to make you walk that far. Then, as you slide out of the Bronco, he stops you with a smooth, “Hey,” that makes you look over your shoulder at him. “Make sure you save my number in your phone, okay? I’ll text you soon.”

The way your stomach flips is worrisome, a feeling you’re only used to when you’re with…

“Yeah, okay.”

He grins widely and nods, then waits for you to get a good distance away from the car before driving off.

No distractions, you’d said. It’ll be good for your focus, you’d said.

What a fucking joke.

Mike has to help you with some homework that weekend. You can hear his smile through the phone, snort when he makes his little nerd jokes, then sigh when he gets to the actual subject and explains it to you without a problem. His brain is incredible, and when you think about it too hard, it makes you warm inside.

“You’re so fucking smart. Why don’t you let people know?”

“Maybe I just want you to know,” he chuckles. “You think I wanna spend my days tutoring every idiot who needs help?”

“Miche, did you just call me an idiot?”

You hear another breathy laugh followed by a sigh. “I have many, many names for you, but ‘idiot’ isn’t one of them.”

“Oh yeah?” You play. “And, what might those other names be?”

He lists a few, all of them making your face flush and your body tingle, and before you know it, you’ve got your pants off and your fingers between your legs. You can hear Mike’s heavy breathing on the other end, the wet sound of his hand stroking his lubricated cock, and when you reach your climax, you moan out your usual, “Oh fuck, oh fuck, Miche.”

He tumbles down right behind you, panting and telling you in a voice of disbelief, “Jesus, it just keeps coming.” It makes the pulses of your orgasm even stronger, remembrance of all the times he’s painted you in white, and God, you are so ready for him to get back to the school.

Then, there’s the voice in the back of your head that makes you think maybe it’s better that he’s gone for now, that he might not be too pleased that you’re spending time with another guy. But, it’s not like things with Zeke are going anywhere. You wouldn’t even call him a friend. You text on and off, have brunch or lunch or coffee depending on the time of day.

And, yeah, he calls you pet names, tells you that you look nice even when you’re just in leggings and a t-shirt, talks about his family and…

Okay, it could potentially lead to something more, but it’s only been a week, and considering his golden boy status, he could have anyone he wants, so why would he even be interested in you in any way, shape, or form?

Naturally, your thoughts circle back to Mike and the way he could have any girl on his arm, but he still chooses to spend time with you. To fuck you. To nearly confess his feelings to you. You have to wonder if you’re emitting some kind of scent or beacon, if there’s a sign hanging above your head with an arrow pointing down. Sports gods, come get a piece.

If only you’d never gone to that party. If you had just kept your head down like you had freshman year. Your life would be so much easier now.

But now you’re in Zeke’s apartment listening to him rant about some philosopher you’ve never even heard of. He’s gesturing with his hands, flipping curling, blond bangs from his face, and whenever he pauses to think, he scratches his beard. He’s very fond of the white t-shirts and jeans get-up, sometimes switches it up and wears a button down under a sweater vest. Both looks are becoming of him no matter how much you try to deny it, but when he drops down onto the couch next to you and peers into your god damn soul with those piercing, blue eyes, you have to choke back a dreamy sigh.

What is happening to you?

“So, what do you think about it?” He asks, looking hopeful that you might have some insight on this matter.

But, you simply laugh and shake your head. “Zeke,” you start. “I’m gonna be real honest with you here. I didn’t understand a fucking thing you just said.”

You assume he’ll be disappointed, maybe tire of you since you can’t be as intellectually stimulating as he’d like you to, but Zeke exhales in a lighthearted sort of way, shows one of those amused smiles, and tells you, “You’re cute.”

Anyone else and you would have snapped back, something along the lines of, don’t fucking patronize me, but with Zeke, all you can do is stare at him and let your lips part, silently asking for something you won’t speak out loud.

His gaze moves to your mouth for a split second. That soft smile turns into one of his famous smirks. Then, he’s back on his feet and asking, “You wanna go to dinner?”

You are more than relieved at the shift in atmosphere, but your heart is still beating too hard as you follow him downstairs and to his car.

* Summer is passing quickly. Too quickly. The eleven week classes are kicking your ass, or are close to kicking your ass. Lucky for you, you have your own private tutor just a call or text away. Mike helps you, and you laugh and goof around, shoot off innuendo after innuendo, but the phone sex slows to a halt eventually. You tell him that you’re tired, and you are. It isn’t a lie. But, it also isn’t the full truth.

Between classes when you could be resting, you’re eating out with Zeke. Or, watching him and the rest of the baseball team practice for the upcoming season. Or, sitting in his apartment, watching movies and chatting about all manner of things. Nothing important, of course—there’s no diving deep into your life story like you had done with Mike over Spring Break, but Zeke still learns the little things about you. Why you’re majoring in geosciences and how you became good friends with some of the Pike guys. You don’t give him the full details on that one—that you got blackout drunk and fucked Mike and just couldn’t stop. You don’t think Zeke would be interested in hearing about it anyway.

You learn a bit about his dad and stepmom, the latter of whom he isn’t very fond of. He also has a little brother who’ll be attending the college starting this fall, and he’s interested in the Greek life. Naturally, you build PKA up. Even if there are some… Problematic people in the house, there are also a lot of really good guys.

“I’ll make sure to pass it along to him,” Zeke tells you one evening as you’re both sprawled on the couch, backs against the armrests as you face each other. It’s how he seems to prefer to sit when the TV isn’t on. When you asked him why, he had told you, “Just like looking at you,” and you didn’t know how to respond. You still don’t know how to respond.

“Eren thinkin’ about joining any sports?” You ask now. “Does baseball run in the family or anything?”

Zeke snorts. “Kid couldn’t hit a baseball even if it was on one of the t-ball stands.”

“I’ll take that as a ‘no’, then.”

“I would say he’s more academically inclined, but,” Zeke sighs. “That would be a lie.”

You can never tell if he actually likes his brother. Most of the time he complains about him, but every once in a while he’ll bring up something cute Eren did as a little boy, and you see a fond glimmer in his light eyes.

“Anyway,” Zeke waves off the subject and transitions to a new one—one that makes your stomach drop. “Are you gonna tell Zacharias about us?”

You choke on your own spit, leaning forward to cough a couple times, then challenge him with a nervous laugh, “I wasn’t aware there was anything to tell him.”

Zeke tilts his head, mouth pulling up as he raises his eyebrows. “Come on,” he chuckles.

“Come on, what?” You frown. If you were with Mike, you both would have died at that. Come on my face, you can hear him say, and you have to fight a smile because there’s absolutely no way you could explain that to the man in front of you.

“You don’t have to play coy, sweetheart. We both know there’s something going on between us.” He says it with such confidence that even if he wasn’t right you wouldn’t be able to argue with him. The assumption should annoy you, should make you scoff and leave, but instead you sit there staring, caught up in his gaze and cocky grin.

“I—”

“It’s okay, you know. Not like you’re alone in this.”

Those questions swim through your mind again, all the insecurities that you’ve been sorting through with Mike, but now that voice is louder because that sense of trust hasn’t formed yet. You’ve only connected with Zeke over meals and movies. It sounds domestic, but despite your apparently obvious attraction to him, you still don’t feel like you really know him.

But, he draws you in, like a moth to a flame. You can’t help it. There’s just something about him that makes you want him to like you, like you want to impress him, like you want to be good for him. You’ve been trying to ignore those thoughts, but they’re much harder to fight now that you’re sitting in front of him, taking in his wavy hair and pale blue eyes, that ever present smirk on his face, the curve of his neck that disappears into his shirt.

He could just want sex. He could just want a fling. Wait for everyone to get back on campus and drop you for another girl. You tell yourself you wouldn’t care; you’re good at keeping things casual.

Wouldn’t it be fun to be his arm candy for a while, though? Let people look at you and whisper louder than they did when they’d see you and Mike together? You don’t care about status, about being in the spotlight. It’s more for the experience, dating someone who could teach you things.

Mike teaches you things, that voice pops up again. He’s been helping you with your work for almost a year now. You can’t just overlook that.

“What, are you weighing the pros and cons over there or something?”

You snort. “Maybe. We still don’t really know each other all that well, Zeke.”

“Might I remind you that we’ve been hanging out all summer? Did you honestly think it wouldn’t lead to anything more?”

“Honestly,” you mimic, “I never thought you’d be interested.”

“Why wouldn’t I be?” His brow furrows like he’s genuinely confused. “You’re smart. You’re funny. You’re cute.”

God, you can’t even count how many times he’s called you ‘cute’, how many times it’s made you blush over the last several weeks, just like it does now.

Then, he pushes, “Do you not find me at—”

“Of course I do,” you cut him off. “I don’t know who doesn’t, which is exactly why I don’t know where this is coming from.”

Zeke sighs like he’s annoyed, then turns the hand on his thigh palm up and beckons you with two fingers. “Come here.”

“What?”

“Come here.”

Your blood pressure spikes, breaths coming in little puffs that have no way of getting to your brain. It’s probably why you obey, rolling to your knees and clumsily crawling over to him. You stop short, right between his bent knees, but Zeke sits up, straightens his legs, and pulls you into his lap.

More of that precious air leaves your lungs as you exhale too sharply, staring at him with huge eyes. You don’t know what’s happening, can’t believe it’s happening. It doesn’t feel real even as you rest your hands on his shoulders, even when he holds your hips and pulls you so that your full weight is on him, but fuck, you can’t say anything. You can’t make a sound. All you can do is wait for him to make his next move.

“Why do you look scared?” His voice is just above a whisper, but at this proximity you can hear him without a problem.

“I don’t have a lot of experience sitting in men’s laps,” you manage, trying to keep your usual careless tone, but you doubt it works.

“For some reason I don’t believe that.”

You rear back, actually offended. “Excuse m—”

That ire, however, melts away as quickly as it arose. Zeke slides fingers up your waist, all the way to the back of your neck to bring your face to his—your lips to his.

He feels different, not at all what you’re used to. His kiss is more demanding, hungry, and God, you still can’t breathe, can’t think straight because his tongue is moving past your lips, and you’re letting it, letting him taste you as your fingertips dig into the flesh of his shoulders. You lift yourself from him just a little only for Zeke to pull you back down with the hand still gripping your hip. He makes sure you feel him when he grinds up into you, the zipper of his jeans rubbing you through your little shorts so that you gasp into his mouth.

You both stay like that for what feels like a fucking eternity, biting and sucking on lips, stroking over each others’ tongues until you absolutely have to break apart. You’re panting now, body still tense on top of his, and Zeke stares at you with half-lidded eyes and shows the ghost of a smile.

“Oh, I’m gonna have so much fun with you.”

The statement sets you on fire, so much so that all you can do is whimper quietly and lean in for more.

And, as you get lost in Zeke Jaeger, you decide for yourself.

I need to tell Mike

[ next ]

#mike zacharias x reader #miche zacharias x reader #aot x reader #aot fanfic #aot fanfiction #mels prima vista

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scullydubois · 4 years ago

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memory-bound: a revival one-shot

Set between Rm9sbG93ZXJz & My Struggle IV, Scully moves back into the Unremarkable House after her smart home burns down and returns to an age-old ritual: coloring her hair.

T, 1.8k, fluff/domestic fluff, read on ao3 here.

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

Lamp light casts shadows on the wall as Scully unpacks in a place she never thought she’d find herself again: the master bedroom she and Mulder shared for almost a decade. She lays her remaining clothes on the tribal-patterned bedspread and smirks at how little the room has changed. She expected to be put up in the guest room and was perfectly fine with that. They had rarely gotten any use out of it--she figured an inhabitant would do it some good. Imagine her shock, then, when Mulder told her he hadn’t slept in “their” room since she left. That the room was all hers.

It shouldn’t have surprised her that after a decade of a bed, he returned to what he knew upon losing what he had known. He swapped the couch he slept on for seven years for a Barcalounger. An old man needs his amenities, he joked while showing her its heat and massage functions. And she felt a gnawing in the pit of her stomach, the mark of a fool.

She salvaged what she could from the fire, but most of her Bethesda things were ruined. That soulless smart house was never worth its automated thermostat system, let alone any of its other data mines disguised as gizmos. Mulder hated it--hated it, like, wouldn’t step foot in it, and if she’s being honest, that was the only selling point for her: the shelter it offered from his incessant search for truth & his unsatisfiable conscience. This was back when she felt like that was something she needed to get away from, of course. She had wanted to settle somewhere and mean it. Now, she realizes they were settled all along.

She rests a pile of folded clothes in the crook of her arm and pulls open her old dresser. She envisioned cobwebs--maybe even a whole family of spiders--in there, but instead, a ratty New York Knicks t-shirt greets her. And a Spaceship Earth one under that, and a Wile E. Coyote one under that. Her holy trinity of Mulder t-shirts. She refused to take them when she left, though he insisted. And in protest, he hadn’t worn them. She knows this instinctively, though the lack of laundry scent confirms it. They’ve been waiting in this drawer all along, captives to Mulder’s fantasy that one day she would open it again.

Scully squeezes her eyes shut, slips the pile in next to the shirts, slams the drawer, and grabs her toiletries bag off the bed, striding into the bathroom. She can’t dwell...she can’t. She’s learned by now that regret is a state of mind that freezes her up, and there’s no being frozen, not any more.

Unzipping the bag, she lines her various products along the counter. Age-defying this, anti-aging that...sunscreen is really the only thing that’s done her any good. That, and hair dye. She keeps the others around for show.

Speaking of...she pokes at her roots, scouring the mirror for signs that yes, she could theoretically be a grandma--and she can’t say for certain that she isn’t--but to her knowledge, she’s not, and as long as no one calls her Grandma, she won’t accept the title.

She won’t accept the gray hairs, either. One day, sure, but not yet. Mulder’s not even gone gray yet, and he has years on her. She’s told him that he would look great, and that the silver fox nickname would be nothing short of perfection, but he swears that he just hasn’t lost his “natural luster” yet, that he’ll embrace the gray when (if!) it comes.

Scully’s not been so lucky, though it doesn’t show. She’s been coloring her hair every three weeks since she was twenty-eight to keep the ravishing red. She’ll never forget when Mulder realized it wasn’t her natural color...the way his eyes widened as he moved between her legs…

It’s not as if he didn’t know; her mousy auburn had been on full display when they first met, and yet he’d gotten so used to seeing her as she is that it slipped his mind that she hadn’t always been that way. And once they moved in together--in this very bathroom, actually--he loved to help her with the coloring process, was as fascinated by it as the prospect of alien-human hybrids.

She chooses the tube of Rock it Like a Redhead dye from her product line-up, looks at her reflection. It’s been five--no, six--nearing seven--years since she performed this ritual in this room. She glances down, and sure enough, the tile still bears a rust-colored stain from one of her sessions gone wrong. It makes her smile...she has a history here. They have a history here.

She sighs. For old time’s sake, she might as well...she’s found herself thinking that a lot lately.

Her old robe--her usual attire for the occasion--fell victim to the fire, but she’s got a good substitute in mind. She pads back into the bedroom and plucks the Wile E. Coyote shirt from the drawer. It’s black, hopefully that will hide any stains. Her slacks are too damn expensive to risk an accident, so she briefly considers stripping to her panties before settling on a pair of gym shorts.

Her get-up in place, she grabs a few clips from her bag and pins her hair up in four sections. This is one of the reasons she got her chop; her long hair was sexy, but it was a bitch trying to cover all those layers. Plus, Mulder is fond of “the Scully shag” as he calls it, though she corrects him every time (it’s not a shag Mulder, it’s a bob!). It reminds him of their firsts, she imagines. It’s almost as if the longer her hair got, the further apart they drifted. And once they were okay again, it was imperative that she bear her neck to him...show him the place where his lips should land.

She decides to stand in the shower (water off, of course) so any mess can be rinsed away. She wonders, suddenly, if the square mirror they used to keep is still suctioned to the glass interior. It’ll be hard to do this alone if it’s not.

She peeks in, and it’s not there, and that must be the only thing in this house Mulder has moved. Figures. She slips off her shoes and grabs the applicator and dye tube. She’ll do the best she can, then use the bathroom mirror to make any touch-ups.

Scully steps into the shower. Its characteristic lemon scent is gone, and that makes her sad. It used to be a welcome change from the antiseptic hospital smell she dealt with all day. Wielding her tools, she starts at her roots, spreading the dye along her scalp with expert precision. Surely this counts as a workout--it takes a lot of energy to hold your arms over your head for this long. Will her Fitbit calculate how many calories she’s burning, she wonders?

She’s just started a new strand when a gentle rap echoes through the wall.

“Scully?” Mulder’s voice rings from outside the bedroom. She pulled the door slightly shut when she entered.

“Come in!” she calls. “In the bathroom.”

She hears footsteps in the adjacent room, then a hesitant breath as Mulder pauses at the doorway. “Are you decent?”

Scully looks down at herself. What a picture. “I’m in a Wile E. Coyote t-shirt and gym shorts. Does that answer your question?”

Mulder shuffles in, smirking at the sight of her through the open shower door. “What are you doing?”

She points to the crown of her head--which is already well within his field of vision--so she’s not sure why he needed to ask the question.

“Well, I see that,” Mulder concedes, “but I mean, why are you hunched over in here like you’re hoping to grow a third arm?”

Scully shrugs. “A girl’s gotta do what a girl’s gotta do.”

“That’s just as lame as ‘boys will be boys,’ and you know it,” he counters, remembering a spirited lecture she once gave him on the misogynist undertones of the phrase. Scully smirks. They had that conversation years ago...post-William, pre-Bahamas. She’s surprised that it stuck with him.

She tilts her chin in a way that makes Mulder certain she’d have her hands on her hips if they weren’t occupied. “What do you suggest?” she challenges.

“Let me help you,” he proposes before she can launch a protest. His sneaker’s rubber sole meets the shower tile as he slips in beside her. The wall is cold against her elbow as she scoots back to make room for him.

“I’m fine. I’ve been doing this on my own for years, and I was long before you.”

“But now you have me,” he professes. “Here. Right now,” he clarifies, not meaning to label their as-yet undefined relationship status.

Their eyes meet, and Scully’s hit with the last time the two of them were in here--her legs around his waist, his hands sliding through her hair, droplets that couldn’t be placed as shower water, sweat, or tears. Her spine straightens against the very wall where she was pinned. Times change, yet they don’t. History repeats itself in a slightly different key.

“When I was younger, I did this because I liked the color,” she tells him, finishing a section and lowering her hands. “Now, I do it out of necessity. It’s sad, Mulder.” She juts her lower lip out in a faux pout. “We’re getting old.”

He would hug her, but he’d mess up her hair and it would be a whole thing. “Hey, I’ll be pushing your wheelchair with my wheelchair, remember?” he says, taking her slip into sentimentality as permission.

Scully nods, the delicate memories of years past bringing a slight frown to her face.

“Can you do me a favor?” she asks, raising to her tiptoes, then lowering again. Her eyes twinkle.

“Of course.”

She offers him the tube of dye, looks up at him with a smile.

“Can you get right here?” She points to a spot right above her temple, one she could definitely reach herself if she wanted to.

Mulder admires her. His woman, back in his old t-shirt and all. He plants his lips on her temple, breathing her in. No matter what she says about aging or being old, he’ll never believe her. She is as she was back then: the only semblance of peace he’s ever known.

He pulls away to meet her gaze, his voice warm and smooth. “Is that about where you want it?”

Scully grins. “Yes, that’s perfect.”

#this might be the only revival fic i ever write & i really enjoyed it #a chance to reflect and take a trip down memory lane <3 #the x-files #txf #txf fic #mine #todayinfic

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malewifegradyruewen · 4 years ago

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An Untitled Original Work, Part 8

y'all are either gonna love me or hate me-

previous | next | masterpost

trigger warnings: none that i can think of, ask to tag

word count: 2755

tagging: @fire-sapphics @artemiassamos @honorablescythecurie @love-pyramus @silver-war @pencilwritesshiz47 @tiergan-andrin-alenefar @mermistahawk @dirty-racoon @tommyinnitt @enbies-and-felonies @sofia-not-sophie @imaramennoodle @littlemisscupcake @cadence-talle and lmk know if you wanna be added/removed!!

Gina was pissed, to say the least. Stupid, oblivious Leo, and stupid, oblivious her. What a pair.

Leo had always been oblivious, so she really couldn’t blame him, but it was her own mistakes that really set her off. Sure, they were her mistakes, but that didn’t make them sting less.

Put it out of your mind. That’s over now, and now we can… try again.

After they’d left, she and Sammie had decided that they should go to Gina’s, just to hang out. The only reason Gina had agreed was because she knew her dad had taken her youngest siblings to their grandma’s, and the oldest two of her younger siblings wouldn’t bother her. They might have even gone over to a friend’s house, leaving the Weathers residence vacant.

“So, what did you think? Salt & Pepper, it was good, right?” she asked, hoping to break the tension that had formed.

“Yeah, it was pretty good! Leo was right, the mocha was pretty good.”

She knew Sammie didn’t mean any harm, but hearing Leo’s name brought a bitter taste to Gina’s mouth. She did her best to swallow it before asking, “Have you ever dyed your hair?”

So she was taking the easy way out of discussing what had happened at the café. There was nothing wrong with that, especially because Gina wasn’t entirely sure what had happened, but they didn’t need to talk about it. Right now, she needed a distraction, something guaranteed.

“Uh, no, I haven’t,” Sammie admitted. “I never had the chance, I guess.”

“How would you feel about maybe, I dunno, doing that at my house?” Gina asked. “I’ve got a couple colours. I accidentally bought some for light hair, too, so that’s been sitting in my closet for a while now.”

Sammie hesitated. Gina could tell she wanted to, but still. It wasn’t something most people did on the fly. Changing your colour was one thing, but doing it for the first time was usually a bigger decision.

“You don’t have to,” Gina added. “Or we can do just like, a little bit. Streaks or ends or-” She gasped. “Under layer would look so good!”

With that, Sammie seemed won over. “Why not? What colours do you have?”

“For light hair, I think pink and blue. And then I have some that’s for darker hair, purple and green and red. And brown. I dunno. Probably pink or blue for you.”

“Pink, for sure.”

“Good, because we’re here,” Gina said as they pulled into her driveway. She quickly parked outside and hopped out of the car. “Do you want a soda or something? We’ve got some in the garage.”

She led Sammie into the garage and to an old, white fridge. Sammie pulled it open and Gina grabbed a Sprite. “Go on, you can take something.”

Sammie grabbed a Sprite of her own before closing the fridge. Gina then pulled open the door to the back hall, a tiny doorway that led into the kitchen. “Shoes on or off?” Sammie asked.

“Either one,” Gina said. “I keep mine in my room.” She then bolted upstairs. “My room’s up here.”

As Gina walked down the narrow hallway, she suddenly felt very… inadequate. Everything seemed too small, too dirty, too embarrassing. It never felt like this when Mally or Andre were over, because they’d been coming over since they were little. But somehow, Sammie seeing it for the first time as a high schooler, the most judgemental group of people on the planet, terrified Gina. What if this was it? Maybe Sammie would stop hanging out with her. Plus, there was the added terror of having your crush see your bedroom. That usually didn’t happen so early, did it?

Gina ran out of time to go over worst-case scenarios as she opened her bedroom door. Luckily, she’d cleaned up a bit before going to pick Sammie up, so it wasn’t too bad. Her bed was made, there were no dirty underwear on the floor, and the dresser was organised.

“Aww, your room is so cute!” Sammie said as Gina stepped out of the way to let her in. “The nail polish is so fun!” She pointed to the row that Gina had lined up in colour order. There were only maybe a dozen bottles, but they took up a decent amount of room on her dresser.

“Thanks,” Gina said as she internally sighed a sigh of relief. “Maybe we can paint our nails later, if we have time.”

“That would be fun,” Sammie agreed.

Gina could tell that there was something Sammie wasn’t saying, but she decided not to push. “Okay, here’s the hair dye,” she said as she opened her closet and grabbed a small plastic basket off the floor. “Here’s the pink.”

She tossed the box to Sammie, who caught it with ease. “Should we do this in the bathroom, and do you have some old towels?”

“Yeah, they’re right here.” She reached into her closet again and grabbed two stained towels. “I know they look gross but they’re clean, I promise. I just washed them.”

“That’s okay,” Sammie said as she took one of the towels from Gina. “Here, you put the basket away. Where’s your bathroom?”

“Right next door, first door on the right,” Gina said, sliding the basket back and closing her small closet. She followed Sammie into the bathroom.

“Okay, what’s first?” asked Sammie as she opened the box.

“You should wash your hair. I can do that in the sink, and then I have some clips in the sink so we only dye the bottom layer.”

“Alright, I’m doing this!” Sammie said as she placed one of the towels around her neck like a cape.

“We’re doing this! Here, I’m gonna go grab a chair so you can sit by the sink,” Gina said. She ran back downstairs to the garage, grabbed an old folding chair, and brought it back up. When she got back to the bathroom, she found that Sammie had found a handful of hair clips in a drawer and had pulled the gloves out of the box.

“Here.” She set the chair down facing the wall. “Sit.”

Sammie sat as Gina grabbed her shampoo and conditioner from the shower. She put them on the counter next to the sink and turned the water on. “Sit back so your hair’s actually in the sink.”

Gina could see Sammie hesitate. “Hey, it’s not too late to chicken out. I still haven’t been able to do Mally’s. You’re fine if you don’t wanna do it.”

“No, I wanna,” Sammie said. “I’m just nervous.”

“Don’t be! This stuff is only semi-permanent anyways, so it won’t last for more than six weeks, if you wash it the same amount as usual.”

Gina could see Sammie take a deep breath before sitting back. “Let’s go!”

She placed Sammie’s hair in the sink and started washing it. “So, how do you like it here?”

“I like it. It’s different from where I lived before, but I like the people here. I think I found a good group, y’know?”

“Yeah, I get that,” Gina said as she started adding shampoo. “Good crew. I’ve known Mally and Andre since elementary school. I think we’re all pretty likeable.”

“Yeah, and the other people in my classes are nice, too,” Sammie said. “Not that I’d hang out with most of them, but they’re nice.”

“Mhm,” Gina said absentmindedly as she rinsed the shampoo and started combing conditioner through Sammie’s hair.

“I can’t wait to just get to know more people, you know? Like I’ve been talking with some of my other classmates and I forgot how fun it is to talk to different people and get their perspectives on things.”

“Yeah,” Gina agreed. “Sit up, your hair is clean. I gotta dry it a bit.”

Sammie leaned forward in the chair as Gina pulled the towel that was sitting on her shoulders up to rub her hair dry. “I’m overall liking it here. I was nervous, but everyone has been really nice and no one’s really bullied me or anything.”

“Yeah, most of the people at our school are nice. It’s actually not too bad. I’ve heard South is way more toxic than our school.” Gina grabbed the clips and then pulled a comb out of one of the drawers. “Hold these,” she said, handing the clips to Sammie. She then ran the comb around Sammie’s head, grabbing the top section with one hand and a clip with the other. “Turn around, does that look good?”

“Yeah, that’s not too much,” Sammie said as she looked in the mirror.

“Okay, I’m gonna straighten out the part there then. Uh, you can continue what you were saying,” Gina said as Sammie turned back to face the wall.

“It’s just a decent environment, better than my old school. Even the worst people here are generally better than at my old school.”

“Yeah,” Gina said. “Okay, hair dye next. You ready?”

“Do it.”

“Okay,” Gina said as she slid on the gloves and opened the package of dye. She mixed it up and started scooping small handfuls onto Sammie’s hair. “Yeah, I’d say the worst person at our school is probably Logan, and she’s pretty bad, so the people at your school must have been terrible.”

“She’s not that bad,” Sammie said. “She’s in my English, and she seems pretty nice.”

“Trust me, she’s not.” Gina combed her fingers through Sammie’s hair. “She’s rude and a bully.”

“Huh, I haven’t seen that,” Sammie admitted. “She seems pretty… normal, I guess.”

“Don’t hang out with her, trust me. Mally and Andre can vouch for me. Just don’t.”

“Okay, I guess I can do that.”

They sat in silence, Gina combing her fingers through Sammie’s hair to make sure it was fully covered. “Your hair looks good, now we wait,” she said, pulling the gloves off and throwing them in the garbage next to the toilet. “Uh, do you wanna do nails while we wait?”

“Sure,” Sammie said. “I can do yours, if you go grab colours.”

Gina nodded before heading back to her room. That was… strange, right? How Sammie had talked about Logan? What was up with the two of them, anyways? Gina wasn’t sure, but hopefully it was just a misunderstanding on Sammie’s part. Logan was bad news, and the two of them hanging out was worse news.

She grabbed a couple colours; sparkly black and her favourite purple. She brought them back to the bathroom and sat down on the floor in front of Sammie. She’d been doing something on her phone while Gina was in her room, and Gina sat for a moment before she put her phone away. “Sorry, I had to respond to a couple messages.”

“That’s okay. Here, here’s my colours.” She put one hand up and Sammie opened the bottle of purple. She started applying the colour with an ease Gina had never been able to master.

“We should listen to music,” Gina said as she pulled her phone out of her pocket with her free hand. She opened her Spotify and scrolled through her playlists until she found one that wouldn’t totally embarrass her.

“Oh, this is a bop,” she said as the first song came on.

“Oh, yeah!” Sammie said, grinning. She started singing along. “You would not believe your eyes…”

Gina joined in. “If ten million fireflies…”

“Lit up the world as I fell asleep,” they sang in unison. They sang the whole song, relishing each other’s company. By the time the song was over, the first coat on Gina’s nails was finished, and Sammie was on the second coat.

“That was good,” Sammie said, almost breathless.

“Yeah,” Gina laughed. “Ooh, this next one is good. I’ve been cheated by you since I don’t know when…”

“So I made up my mind, it must come to an end,” Sammie joined in. She finished the final coat of polish on Gina’s nails before the song ended.

“Alright, your nails are done, just let them dry and we can rinse my hair.”

“The bottom drawer on your left, there’s a hair dryer. We can dry my nails faster,” Gina said. She paused the music as Sammie plugged it in. She put her hands out in front of her as Sammie turned it on and aimed it at Gina’s nails.

They sat in relative silence, the only noise being the hair dryer. Not quite silence, but one sound enveloping the small room. After about five minutes, Sammie turned it off and said, “Try that.”

Gina tentatively touched her pinky nail. “Dry,” she said, standing up. “Now for your hair.”

She turned the sink back on as Sammie leaned back once more. Gina combed her fingers through Sammie’s hair, turning the water in the sink bright pink. After a few minutes of rinsing, she said, “I think you’re good. Let’s blow it dry.”

Sammie handed her the dryer from where it had been sitting in her lap. Gina switched it on and started blow drying her friend’s hair. She pulled the clip out and ran her fingers through until she determined it was dry. Gina turned off the hair dryer and unplugged it. “Ready for the final reveal?”

Sammie nodded with a nervous smile. She stood up and turned around. “Oh my gosh I love it!” she cried. “It’s so beautiful! Thank you!”

Gina smiled. “It turned out nicely,” she said. “Not gonna lie, I was a bit nervous too.”

“You were?” Sammie asked. “You did it so well! I can’t stop looking at it!”

“Ah, it was nothing. But my nails! You made it look so easy! I always get it all over my fingers and then have to wipe it off.”

“I did my nails a lot in middle school.”

“Makes sense.” They stood in awkward silence for a moment before Gina added, “We should clean this up, and it’s getting late. I can drive you home.”

“Yeah, you’re right. A ride would be great.” Sammie grabbed the towel and the chair and asked, “Where do these go?”

“Uh, the towel can go on the hook behind the door there,” Gina pointed. “And the chair goes in the garage. Do you mind taking it down there while I finish cleaning up the garbage?”

Sammie nodded and took the chair downstairs. Gina grabbed the rest of the garbage, threw it away, and brought the nail polish and the rest of the hair dye back to her room. She set them on her dresser and ran downstairs.

“C’mon, let’s go,” she said to Sammie as she entered the garage. She hopped in the driver’s seat as Sammie climbed in next to her.

“This was fun,” Sammie said Gina started backing out.

“Yeah, it was.” Gina realised this was the perfect time to admit something that had been pulling at her stomach all week. “Uh, Sammie, uh, I dunno how to say this. It’s only been, what, a week since you came, but I really-” She stopped herself and swallowed.

“I like you.”

The words hung there, suspended between them for what felt like an eternity. Gina couldn’t take her eyes off the road, wouldn't let herself. She was scared, but she couldn't take the words back.

Sammie gulped loudly enough for Gina to hear before saying, “I think I might like you.”

They didn’t live far apart, and that short ride had already brought them into Sammie’s driveway. Gina parked and neither girl said anything. She turned to face Sammie and saw Sammie staring at her.

Gina could see Sammie unbuckle her seatbelt, but nothing could have prepared her for Sammie to lean over and kiss her. It was so sudden, she hadn’t even registered what was happening until it was over. Sammie had opened the door and was climbing out of the car.

“Bye!” she called as she slammed the door shut and ran into the house, and just like that, she was gone.

Gina sat there, absolutely shocked. Of all the things she had expected to happen that day, that was not one of them. But Sammie had disappeared inside. There was nothing for Gina to do except drive home and hold the secret tight. That experience, that moment, was going to stay in this car, and Gina couldn't do anything about it, so she didn’t try to fight it. Instead, she drove home and tried not to think about it. After all, what else could she do?

#jolie's shitty writing

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aliwritesfic · 3 years ago

Note

So since you did the cutest job with my mini golf ask…wondering what the TF boys would be like while tie dying with Frankie and his daughter?! I’m attempting to do that tomorrow with my son lol. Please and thank you if you’d like to explore the idea. 🥰😘

First of all, I am SO SORRY this took so long, I've been so busy with uni and forcing myself to actually do the work this semester (who would've thought I could actually apply myself) but I really enjoyed this, and it's actually made me want to go out and do some tie-dying of my own.

Anyways, here's Tie-Dye Tueaday

W/C: 1.6k

T-Minus 5 Hours Until Disaster

“Daddy?” a soft voice rose Frankie out of his fitful sleep. He distantly felt a tiny, warm hand rest on his cheek.

“Yes, cricket?” he mumbled voice heavy with sleep, struggling to open his heavy eyes. He had stayed up until the small hours of the morning frantically researching for the day, watching YouTube videos, making notes, doing whatever he could to prepare.

“Mommy’s going and said I should wake you up,” Everly pulled herself up onto the bed and sat down directly on Frankie’s bladder. He winced and pushed her off gently, wondering just how she always managed to find the worst spot to sit.

“Have you had breakfast?” Frankie asked, and Everly nodded. He said a silent thanks to his ever-amazing wife, who would be spending the day getting massages and facials and whatever else her heart desired before pushing out twins in less than two months’ time. He still couldn’t wrap his mind around that – there would be two more tiny humans in his life soon. The thought left him exhilarated and riddled with anxiety all at once.

Frankie carried Everly downstairs on his back, grabbing his cap from the dresser on his way. The boys would be here soon – they had agreed that tie dying alone with a hyper four year old was a terrible idea, so they were coming to dye something of their own and help Frankie keep a handle on things. Benny was especially excited to dye his shorts to wear to his next fight.

They were halfway through Coco, Everly’s favourite movie, when the front door opened and in came his three best friends, men he had no relation to but considered brothers. Everly went straight to Benny, who was undoubtedly her favourite of them. Frankie had his suspicion that is was because Benny loaded her up on sugar whenever he could. Sure enough, Frankie could see a packet of candy in the plastic bag Benny carried.

“You ready for this?” Will asked, placing a six pack in the fridge. Frankie sighed and nodded.

“Ready as I can be. It can’t go too badly, right?”

T-Minus 3 Hours Until Disaster

The sun was bright and hot on their backs as they set up. Everly sat in the shade of the oak tree, a cup of lemonade in one hand, and her favourite doll in the other. Frankie had forbidden her from coming out in the sun until the sunscreen was fully absorbed, which according to his watch wouldn’t be for another few minutes. It occurred to him that since becoming a father, his mind was filled with worries that he never even considered beforehand.

Frankie had brought dyes in every colour he could, several plastic tubs had been fished out of storage and so many ties that he was sure he would be finding them all around the yard for weeks to come.

“Whatta ya dying, Ev?” Santi called to Everly.

“Purple!” She responded, holding up a pristine white pair of cotton shorts and a shirt.

“Just purple?” Will asked.

“And pink and blue and green!” Everly jumped up, setting her cup down carefully and ran over. “I want it swirly. You should be rainbow wiggles.” She told her father seriously. Will grinned.

“She’s a natural born leader,” he said with more than a touch of pride.

“Just like her mother,” Frankie replied. He took the clothes that Everly held out and began to scrunch and fold them according to the instructions he had written down while watching YouTube last night. The whole thing seemed a lot easier when he was watching through a screen.

Everly chose her dyes as Frankie folded, occasionally handing a certain colour to one of the boys, telling them that they hadto use it. None of them wanted to defy the four year old, so each accepted his colours without protest. Benny seemed quite thrilled when he was given a colour labelled Hot Barbie Pink.

“So many guys will be so fuckin’ embarrassed to get their ass beat by a guy in pink shorts,” Benny grinned.

“Language, Ben!” Frankie darted a frantic look towards Everly, who stood with a cunning smile on her face. Frankie knew that she knew exactly what she wasn’t supposed to say.

“Fuck! Ass!” she declared. Will snorted and Santi had to turn away, face turning bright red from holding in laughter.

Frankie gaped, lost for words for a moment. “Everly, don’t ever say that, but especially the first one, and especially not in front of mommy, okay?”

“Why not?”

Frankie shot a look to Benny, who at least looked a tiny bit sorry. “They’re big people words. Each time you say one your . . . hair gets less curly.”

Everly, who loved her curly hair, looked stricken. Frankie felt bad about lying to his kid, but not as bad as he would’ve felt if his wife came home to a child cussing like she had just strolled out of the military.

The words seemed forgotten as the dye was applied. Everly was surprisingly artful in the way she applied the dye, carefully creating patterns that didn’t make much sense to Frankie but must have made sense to her.

T-Minus 30 Minutes Until Disaster

The group of them sat around the dining room table, beers for the boys and juice for Everly. Most of them had small flecks of multi-coloured dye on their hands, but Frankie was sure they would come off easity. Everly had scoffed down her lunch, and now sat staring outside, looking antsy.

“Go play if you want to,” Frankie said, “you don’t have to sit here.” Frankie was confident there wasn’t anything in the backyard that could pose a danger to her, and besides, he had a view of almost the whole yard from the table.

Everly tore off like a hurricane, juice forgotten as she ran outside, doll in hand.

“If the twins are anything like her . . .” Santi began, taking a sip of his drink. “Fish, you’re gonna have your hands full.”

“If they’re anything like Ev, they’ll be great kids,” Benny said. Will rose his beer bottle. ‘But yeah, you’re definitely gonna have your hands full.”

“Amen, I’ll drink to that,” he said. Frankie nodded and had a sip himself. They talked for a while about football, Benny’s next fight, Santi’s new flame.

Then a thought occurred to Frankie.

“Is it quiet out there?” he craned his neck to investigate the yard and saw . . . nothing. Frankie shot up from his seat, panic rising in his chest. “Everly?” He almost tripped over himself in his haste to get to the backyard. Every worst case scenario was forming in his head.

“Ev?” Benny was beside him in an instant.

“Daddy?” Everly wandered out from behind the tree, and Frankie took a deep breath, calming himself. She was unscathed . . . except for the dye that now stained her arms, legs, face, hair. She was grinning widely, and held up her doll, who was also covered in a rainbow of dye.

“Cricket, what did you do?” Frankie gaped, wondering just how she managed to get almost every inch of exposed skin in such a short amount of time.

“Miss Mildew wanted her hair to be pretty,” Everly explained.

“Your dolls name is Miss Mildew?” Santi asked, red in the face with held back laughter. Everly nodded proudly. She had heard the word on television one night and latched onto it.

“What do you think is worse,” Will murmured to Benny, “Ev swearing, or Ev covered in dye?”

“Swearing,” Benny said snickering, “you can wash out the dye, you can’t unlearn a word.”

“What word?” Everly asked. Ears of a hawk, Frankie thought.

“The word you’re not allowed to say,” Will said.

“And what word would that be?” A smooth voice behind them almost made Frankie jump out of his skin. His wife, beautiful and terrifying all at once, stood on the patio, one hand on her stomach, the other on her hip.

“Fuck!” Everly declared loudly and proudly.

“Teaching my child new words, I see, Benjamin.”

Benny to his credit, at least looked more apologetic than he did with Frankie.

Frankie’s wife waddled down into the yard and set her gaze on her husband. “That dye won’t make her sick will it?”

“No, no, not at all,” he said. He had specifically brought kid friendly, skin safe, non-toxic dye.

“Good. Then I’m gonna go lie down and try and forget my four-year-old just said the eff-word and is every colour under the sun.” His wife shook her head and rolled her eyes at Benny. Once she was inside, Frankie turned to Everly.

“C’mon, we gotta clean you up,” he reached to pick Everly up who shook her head.

“We gotta see what they look like first!” she said. Frankie considered her point and nodded.

“Alright, cricket,” he said. They unravelled the clothes to a chorus of oohs and aahs, Everly clapped her green hands together as her multi-coloured shorts and top were revealed.

Benny sheepishly wandered over to Frankie as he put everything in the washing machine. “Hey man, I really am sorry about that.”

Frankie shook his head. “Don’t worry about it. Just buy the missus as much caffeine as she wants when she’s done breastfeeding and she’ll forget all about it.”

“I hope so. Her bad side is not a place I wanna be.”

Frankie laughed and scooped up Everly in his arms. Her curls were streaked with blue and her cheeks were magenta. “Trust me, she won’t stay mad for long. I don’t think she’s that mad to be honest.”

“You don’t?” Benny sounded unsure.

“Well she didn’t yell, and it looked like she was trying not to laugh. All things considered, I think today was a success story.”

Tagging @sharkbait77 because I think you’d enjoy this

#i love it when kids swear #frankie fix #frankie fic #triple frontier

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decayedflower · 4 years ago

Text

Stranger II

⋆ gif is mine

Pairing: Yang Hongwon x Reader

Genre: Underground rapper!Hongwon, Barista!Reader | angst, fluff

Word Count: 5.6k

Summary: Don’t get attached. This was his number one rule. Attachment means getting hurt. Attachment means vulnerability. You are the only person you can trust. So how could she so easily sneak past and break the walls he had worked so hard to build around his heart when all she is, is a stranger?

Warnings: cussing, some angst, hamin being a noodle

A/N: Sorry this took forever to upload, life happens ya know? Next chapter should be more exciting as the ball gets rolling. Hope you guys enjoy :)

You told yourself that no matter how in love you were with someone, you could detach yourself from your emotions enough so that—should the day come—you could live your life without them.

Looking at yourself now, you admit you’re a little ashamed. You couldn’t stop bawling your eyes out for 2 weeks straight. You guess you didn’t do as good a job ‘detaching’ as you thought you did.

You mentally slap yourself. You once lived your life without him bitch, you can do it again.

It was on a rainy Monday afternoon that you found yourself in bed—cheeto dust on your titties—marathon watching Weightlifting Fairy Kim Bok-Joo. Curse Nam Joohyuk. How could a man be so goddamn perfect? He was handsome, funny, loving—and most certainly not a CHEATER.

You sigh and decide that you should probably get up and shower before Hyeri comes home and sees your miserable state. You feel bad worrying her so much. She’s always been way too kind and selfless for her own good.

You grab a fresh set of pj’s and determinedly head to the bathroom. The least you could do was stop moping and try to clear your thoughts of him. For both your sakes.

Just as you finish that thought, you catch sight of the item sitting on top of your dresser. Your favorite hoodie. His hoodie. You scowl and toss it into the trash bin. If only all men were like Nam Joohyuk. The world would be a much more peaceful place.

“Sooo, hey.”

“Yeah?”

“You know how Princess Peach is always getting her ass kidnapped?”

You laugh at the odd question. “I do recall the kidnapping of the Princess Peach ass, yes.”

“Well, it just hit me. Why doesn’t the bitch ever fight back? I mean,” Jin places a hand on his hip thoughtfully, “how is it that she manages to get kidnapped by the same dude every single time? She’s a princess. Shouldn’t she have high level security?”

“Huh. I never really thought about that.”

“How could you not! She has marshmallows for bodyguards. It’s outrageous.”

“Does it really matter?” you ask.

He sounds genuinely offended. “Of course it does. You ever see Daisy getting kidnapped?”

“Well, no but—“

“Besides, isn’t it a little ridiculous how there’s this expectation that Mario has to save her? I mean, he’s not even a prince or a knight, he’s a plumber! An italian plumber! The amount of disrespect is just astronomical considering the lengths he goes to—”

“Seokjin why are we talking about this?” You ask, baffled. You take a look at your workstation and head to the stockroom to get more large size cups. Jin trails behind you, obviously upset with your lack of interest in the conversation.

“It’s a legitimate concern, Y/N. Someone needs to pay attention to these details and it is the duty of I, the consumer, to voice the—whoa whoa whoa, since when do we have oatmeal raisin cookies?!” He screeches mid-rant, staring at a pack of cookies he holds in his hand.

You whip around to have a look, not believing your ears. “What the fuck?”

It’s true. The box of oatmeal raisin cookies sits atop the third shelf, right next to the double chocolate chip cookies.

“The boss sent an email out on Sunday,” Yoongi stands at the doorway holding a box of promotional flyers. If it were possible, you swear tumbleweed would have made its way between the three of you with the silence that follows as you and Jin stare at each other blankly.

“Which,” Yoongi drawls out, “I guess neither of you read.” he states dryly, walking away.

“Who the hell likes oatmeal raisin?” Jin asks defensively. Personally, you couldn’t agree more. Oatmeal cookies on their own were tolerable—it was the raisin part that completely ruined the entire cookie.

“They’re Satan’s spawn,” he scowls, tossing the aforementioned cookie back in the box as if it had personally insulted him. You chuckle and shake your head, walking back to your station with the box of plastic cups.

You start stocking them back up on the counter, making sure it looks neat.

“Hey Jin,” Yoongi calls out from the front of the store, “can you grab that window marker and write out the menu again? The rain washed some of it off.” He says, examining the missing bits of letters, nose scrunched in annoyance.

You could practically hear the way the older boy starts seething at Yoongi’s lack of use in honorifics. The tips of his ears flare a bright red, his eyes wide in disbelief.

“I’M SORRY, COME AGAIN?! I couldn’t hear you over the DISRESPECT.”

Seokjin takes great pride in being the oldest of the crew. He enjoys taking care of the others as if they were of his own blood, you included. He has a somewhat sarcastic sense of humor—but never overbearingly so—always exaggerating his facial expressions and reactions, which you personally find charming. Seokjin is also infamous for his constant dad jokes, the younger ones usually cringing at their cheesiness and have you bending over in laughter. (The other boys beg you to stop egging him on as it only fuels his desire to keep them going.) That being said, Jin is not someone who gets easily irritated. When it comes to certain things, he is just, well, a bit of a drama queen.

You stifle a laugh, watching as Yoongi pinches the bridge of his nose, a heavy sigh leaving his mouth, very obviously regretting his choice of words. “Hyung, will you please go rewrite the menu outside?”

“Thank you! Can’t you just do that from the get go? I swear you kids are so ungrateful sometimes. I mean, you all seem to forget how I practically raised you brats—”

“Hyung, please get your ass outside or so help me I will go into that break room right now, clock out, take the longest nap of my damn life and just leave you two out here to die.”

“Alright, alright,” he says, putting his hand up, “I’m going geez. What a drama queen.” He huffs his way to the entrance, shaking his head, marker in hand. “And you guys say I’m the dramatic one.” He scoffs, shaking his head.

Yoongi stands there looking up at the ceiling with his hands on both hips as if silently asking the heavens for a tiny shred of patience.

You snicker behind your hand. You swear hearing those two bicker is your daily source of serotonin.

It’s 3 more hours into your shift when Hamin shows up at the front counter with his signature soft boy smile.

He first visited the cafe during the summer one day back when you had just been hired. The intense summer heat wave had him coming in search of some shelter from the sun and a drink to cool off. The Grind was promoting the seasonal summer drinks and naturally, as a new hire, you tried your best to advertise it. It was only your second day on the job and in your nervous state you sold him a drink that, to just your luck, wasn’t available that day. You apologized profusely afraid that he would turn out to be a Karen, but Hamin had been very sweet about it. He befriended you after that, making frequent visits to the Grind, declaring that he had found a hidden gem.

After talking to him some more you learned that Hamin had studied psychology for two years at a local college before he decided to drop out and pursue his musical career. Of course he didn’t tell you that last part up until a couple of weeks ago, so you had been under the impression that the reason he spent so many hours at the coffee shop was to study for his exams. You weren’t the type of person to pry into someone’s personal life unless they decided to tell you themselves so you never asked. Ever since Hongwon confessed to you that both he and Hamin were working towards becoming musicians, Hamin began to share more about himself to you. He figured that now that the cat was out of the bag, he could be more open with you. Prior to that day, you knew very little about Hamin’s personal life.

“Hey you! You’re back,” you beam.

“Yeah, gotta grind,” he pats his bag for emphasis. “Ha! Grind...” he snorts suddenly. “Get it? Cause we’re at...” he gestures to the shop and laughs to himself. He looks goofy standing there in his bright lavender tie dye hoodie, a big contrast to the muted colors of the walls. His tall lean form stands out like a sore thumb. An Adidas baseball cap adorns his head but it’s so washed out you can’t even tell what color it is—or is supposed to be.

You laugh, shaking your head.

“Oh come on, it was funny,” he says, leaning on the counter.

“It was funny the first couple times Jin said it when I just started working here,” You correct.

“You still laughed though,” he winks at you, making you laugh again. “Anyway,” he straightens up, “Can I get the usual, please?”

You grab a cup and start writing his name. “Just you this time?”

“Nah, my idiot friend is coming but he’s gonna run late so I’ll just order ahead of him.” He sighs, reaching into his pocket in search of his wallet. “How much is it?” He asks, fumbling through a bunch of receipts and cards.

You wave him off. “On the house.”

“No way, I can—”

“Hamin, dude, relax. You do this every time. I keep telling you, discount: friend. Total: zero.”

“You gotta let me pay every now and then. I don’t want your coworkers to think I keep coming here to leech off you…”

“Look, if you were really taking advantage of me, you wouldn’t keep disappearing on me for weeks at a time. Consider it an advance payment for when you finally let me hear a song of yours. ”

“Sorry…” He smiles sheepishly, “It’s a deal then. Thanks Y/N, you’re the best,” he grins. You flip your hair dramatically, playing along.

You make his drink and note that work is slow enough, so you head over to his table instead of calling him over.

You place his drink on the table, “so what’re you working on today?” He looks up and thanks you, taking a sip before he answers.

“A solo project. I don’t have anything now that’s worth listening to though…” He says dejectedly. Admittedly, he’s been going though somewhat of a writer's block.

“That’s okay! I didn’t mean to pressure you. Whenever you’re ready, I’ll be glad to give it a listen if you’re still willing to let me. Good music also takes time, right?” You smile encouragingly.

Someone yells out your name before he’s able to respond. You turn at the sound, “Oh hey!” you exclaim when you see your roommate. You turn back to wish Hamin luck on his writing.

“Thanks for the lunch, Hyeri,” you pat your stuffed tummy in satisfaction. “I forgot to prep mine last night so I was honestly just gonna wait until I got home to eat,” you confess meekly.

She showed up during your shift planning to ask you what kind of food you were in the mood for so she could bring it to you, but Yoongi caught on and sent you on your lunch break so the two of you could eat together instead. Min Yoongi was a godsend.

“I knew it! Y/N, you have to eat your meals! Do you know how detrimental it is to your health if you’re constantly working and skipping your meals?!” you cower as she scolds you.

“I know…sorry. I just forgot...” you squeak.

“Ugh. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to raise my voice, I just worry about you,” she sighs, taking her seat again.

“And I’m so thankful!” you say quickly placing your hand on hers, “I’m sorry you’re always having to take care of me. I’ll work harder so that I don’t become a burden to you. I promise. I haven’t been myself these days but...just give me some time.”

She grabs your hand with both of hers, “Hey. You’re never a burden to me, Y/N. You’re like a sister to me. And I would never put your emotions against you. You need time to heal and that’s okay. Take it at your pace. I will always look after you, no matter what. Okay?”

Your heart warms at her words. You were so grateful to have her for a best friend. You engulf her in a hug and look at the time.

“I should head back. My break is just about over. Thank you for everything, Hyeri. Are you staying? I’ll make you a drink. On the house. You can study there?” you ask.

“Well, I was planning on going to my school’s library, but I guess I could use a drink…” She paused for a moment. “Is Jungkook working today?” She asks, hopeful.

Her crush on your coworker was so amusing. “Unfortunately for you, not today, sorry.” She pouts cutely.

“I’ll make you a green matcha latte?”

“Pretty please.”

You giggle, “Okay, let’s head back then.”

It was a good thing the two of you decided to eat at the chinese restaurant across the shop, so the walk isn’t long. You came here so often that the kind elderly woman who owned the restaurant had memorized your order. You couldn’t help it that their sweet and sour chicken was bomb as hell. What you would give for that recipe.

You’re internally groaning at the thought of having to go back into work when Hyeri stops in front of the entrance and lets out a low whistle.

“Whoa, hey. Which one of your coworkers drives a damn motorcycle?!” She points to a sleek, graphite motorcycle parked on the curb, two cars away from yours.

“Whoa. Uhh...no one, not that I’m aware of. Jin drives a Honda Civic and Yoongi ubers cause of car issues.” You shrug, opening the door. “Must be a customer’s.”

“Well, I don’t know if it’s just me, but that thing is screaming big dick energy.” She says, following behind you. You laugh and smack her shoulder.

“You say that but what if it’s some old bald dude that listens to metal?” You ask, leading her to a table farther in the back so she can study peacefully.

“Well err...hopefully not. I’m just saying whoever rides that thing, I wouldn’t mind riding too. Hell, I could ride all night…” she trails off. You bury your embarrassed face in your hands and try to hold in your laughter so you don’t disturb the customers.

“Oh my god. Stop talking. You’re gonna get me in trouble.” You point at a chair, “Sit here and I’ll bring your drink. Behave,” you warn playfully.

“Yes ma'am,” She winks and points shooter fingers at you. You laugh with a roll of your eyes, heading back to clock in.

“You seem...distracted.” Hamin says, amusement lacing his words.

“Huh?” Hongwon turns at the accusation with wide eyes.

He sighs. “I mean,” he says crossing his arms, “ever since you got here 15 minutes ago, it’s like you keep looking around for...something.”

“So, you’re saying for the past 15 minutes you’ve been watching me like a creep?” He turns his attention back to the music software in front of him. “I told you I don’t swing that way.” he says, clicking random notes on the half-finished project.

Hamin snorts. “Don’t change the subject. What‘s got you so distracted dude?” He asks, slurping up the remains of his drink through his straw.

“The only distraction here is the eggplant sitting in front of me...” He trails off when you enter the coffee shop with your friend in tow. You’re laughing, giving her a smack on the shoulder playfully at a joke she tells you.

Hamin stops his obnoxious slurping when he follows his friend’s gaze. “Ohhhhh!” he grins.

“What?” He snaps. “No ohhhh. Whatever you’re thinking, stop it right now.”

“I’m not thinking anything.” Hamin brings his hands up defensively. “Brain empty. No thoughts.” He taps the side of his head with his index finger. “Buuuttt if you were so interested you could’ve just asked, you know.”

“And what would I have asked exactly?” He asks with a tinge of annoyance.

Hamin tsks under his breath, exasperated. “Oh come on. I mean Y/N. You wanted to know if she was working. Am I right or am I right?”

“Why the hell would I wanna know that? I don’t even know her. ”

“Hongwon!” He’s caught off guard at the sound of your voice. He internally slams his own head against the table and forces a smile when you approach the table, avoiding Hamin’s gaze.

“Y/N, hey…”

“Hold on, you know each other already?” Hamin asks obnoxiously, “I only briefly mentioned you to him, but you already know his name!” Hongwon shoots daggers at the side of his head.

“Actually,” Hongwon says through gritted teeth, “we talked for a bit when I was on my way out the other day. It would have been rude of me to not introduce myself since she’s your friend.”

“He was even kind enough to walk with me on the way home even though it was raining. Thanks for that by the way, you really didn’t have to do that.” Hamin’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise. Shit. The smile you give him is so sincere that he almost misses what you say completely.

“Really!” Hamin grins, clearly enjoying the situation. He pats his shorter friend’s head in mock endearment. “That’s so sweet of him! I mean, considering he lives in a completely opposite di—” Hongwon sends a swift kick to his shin underneath the table.

“Fuck!” Hamin rubs the spot and laughs through the gritted teeth. “I mean...that’s sweet of him considering he’s normally so shy.” He growls at Hongwon and plasters a smile when he looks back at you. You probably think they’re both lunatics.

“Right…” You laugh, unsure of what’s happening. “By the way, did you want a drink? I’ll make it for you.” You tell Hongwon.

“Oh, uh yeah I was just gonna get an americano. Let me just—” He starts to stand up and take out some cash when you stop him.

“Are you sure that’s okay?” He asks. “I don’t want to get you in trouble…”

“Don’t worry, I get free drinks and pastries since I work here.” You say.

“And she shares them with me because I’m her favorite customer. Right, Y/N?” Hamin wiggles his eyebrows at you. You laugh and pick up his empty cup.

“Is he always this much of a moron when he comes here?” Hongwon asks, scrunching his face in distaste. You laugh and ask them to wait while you bring them coffee.

Hamin waits until you’re completely out of ear shot before he begins his interrogation.

“You know, for a pair of strangers, you two seem very well acquainted.” He states, eyes narrowed.

Hongwon scoffs. “You know, I don’t know if anyone’s ever told you this but somehow you have a really punchable face.”

“I don’t know if anyone’s ever told you this, but you’re a terrible liar.”

“Oh shut up. I didn’t lie. I didn’t tell you because I didn’t think I needed to.”

“‘I don’t even know her,’” Hamin mimics.

“I don’t know her. I know her name, that’s it. Not the same thing.”

“So you like her.”

He laughs. “What are you, five? How could I like her? I just met her, idiot.”

“You walked her home.” He says pointedly.

“Part way. I only did it because it was getting late and she’s your friend.”

“Ha! Since when do you care about my friends?”

“She’s a girl, it’s different. If something happened to her because I looked the other way, it’d be on my conscience.”

“You live in completely opposite directions.”

“So what?”

“You wouldn’t even do that for me.” Hamin deadpans.

“Yeah but you’re not a cute girl.” He shrugs, crossing his arms.

“So you think she’s cute!” He slams both hands onto the table, leaning forward to peer into Hongwon’s face accusingly.

“So what? She is cute.” He shoves him away, “that doesn’t mean I like her.”

“Hmm. Okay.” Hamin smirks and leans back in his seat.

“What?” He snaps.

“Nothing,” He says with a look on his face that screams everything but nothing.

Hongwon drags his hands over his face. “You really piss me off, you know that?”

“You may have mentioned that before,” he replies, appearing unbothered.

He’s lucky you decide to come back at that moment. He swears he’d have slapped the smile off his face had he been left alone with Hamin for a minute longer.

You set down the coffee and start to walk back to the counter. “Well, I shouldn’t bother you guys too much so I’ll leave you to it.”

“Wait, Y/N!” Hamin shifts in his seat to face you. “Are you busy Friday?” This puts Hongwon on alert.

“Hmmm...no, I don’t think I have anything going on actually. Why what’s up?”

“You’ve been wanting to hear some of our music for a while now, right? Well,” he loops an arm around Hongwon’s shoulder, “guess who has a gig that night?”

“No way!” You squeal, covering your mouth with both hands. “Wait, but I thought you didn’t have any music that’s finished.” You frown.

“Well, it’s not that we don’t, I just kinda wanted you to hear our new stuff first. But now that I think about it, this is as good a time as any. If you’re interested, a friend of ours is hosting a party and he asked a couple of artists to play for him. It’s at the Henz Club.”

“You mean that scary looking club in Mapo-gu?”

“Scary? I mean sure, some odd looking people hang around there, but they’re all pretty chill for the most part. Right Hongwon?”

Hongwon slaps his arm away. “Right. Well, you’re welcome to come but you don’t have to if you’re uncomfortable.” He supplies. “We’d understand if—oof!”

“Nonsense!” Hamin butts in, shoving his elbow into Hongwon’s side. “You can bring your friend over there if you want, so you don’t have to worry about being alone.” He motions his head in the direction of Hyeri who—not so discreetly—pretends like she hasn’t been trying to make out what the three of you have been talking about for the past 10 minutes.

“Ah, but either way we won’t ditch you after the performance, I promise. How about it?”

Hongwon is still recovering from having the wind knocked out of his lungs and before he knows it, somehow you’re agreeing and Hamin is giving you the details.

“I’m so excited, I can’t wait to hear you guys.” You say cheerfully.

“You should see this guy on stage,” Hamin gestures to Hongwon, “he really puts on a show. Like a true rockstar.”

“You know, you saying that doesn’t make me feel good,” Hongwon says with a frown, sitting back in his chair defeatedly.

“Oh and don’t be surprised if you hear a lot of screaming.” He ignores him, “There’s always a lot of fangirls, especially for Hongwon. They literally come in swarms, it's crazy.”

“Oh my god. Stop. You’re so embarrassing.” He groans, looking away.

“Wow, you’re really hyping him up,” you laugh.

“Ignore him. He’s just saying whatever the hell he wants.”

“No way, it’s really the truth.” He insists, folding his arms across his chest.

“Y/N! We need you in the back!” Yoongi calls out, his head poking out from the staff only door.

“I gotta go. I guess I’ll see you guys on Friday!” You say, waving. “Coming!” You call out, following after your coworker.

Hamin smiles stupidly as you leave. “Isn’t she sweet!”

Hamin and Hongwon hang around at the café for a few more hours until they decide to grab a bite to eat. For the remainder of the time they spent working on their music, Hongwon had not uttered a single word. The most Hamin had gotten out of him was a “sure” when he suggested they get burgers before heading home.

He exits his car, watching as Hongwon removes his helmet to fix the mess it makes of his hair.

Sighing deeply, Hamin leans against the side of his car, hitting the park button on his remote. “Come on, don’t be so cold. How long are you gonna give me the silent treatment for?”

He slips his hands into the pockets of his jeans, dreading to ask but needing to know. “Are you really that pissed off because I invited her?”

Hongwon slips the hollow side of his helmet onto the handlebar and mimics Hamin, leaning against his motorcycle. “Depends,” he says, taking out a pack of cigarettes from his back pocket to light one up, “why’d you invite her?”

Hamin considers his answer carefully, shifting his weight onto the other leg. It’s obvious that Hongwon is already upset, so anything he says will probably get him angry anyway. “I was hoping maybe you guys could hit off,” he says at last, deciding to be honest.

In truth, Hongwon isn’t surprised to hear this—he actually suspected it—but it still pisses him off nonetheless. It wasn’t the first time Hamin tried setting him up with someone. He wasn’t looking for a relationship. This was something he had told him countless times and yet, he continues to pull stunts like this.

“I know you said you aren’t looking for a relationship,” Hamin continues when he proceeds to bring the cigarette to his lips without a reply, “but I just think you could at least talk to her and—“

“And then what? We fall in love, get married and ride off into the sunset?” He cuts him off abruptly.

“No, I just—“ he starts to say but stops when he can’t think of how to word it correctly.

“I know what you’re thinking. You’re thinking Y/N went through a bad breakup, and so did I. You think maybe the two of us can find the comfort we couldn’t find with our previous relationships, in each other.” He pauses to take a drag of his cigarette.

“I’m sorry to burst your bubble, but that's a load of shit. This idea you have that love can just make me forget about all my trauma, is a load of shit.” Hamin flinches at the sudden aggression in his tone. This really didn’t come across the way he intended it to.

“Guess what, I’m fucked up Hamin!” He continues, raking a frustrated hand through his hair. “I have too many damn issues and I don’t need some chick to try to figure me out or fix me. I told you already, I’m happy with the way things are. I’m not gonna play into your stupid games just because you want to play fuckin’ cupid.” Hongwon scowls, taking another drag of his cigarette.

Hamin keeps his gaze on the ground, frustrated with how easily and accurately Hongwon is able to guess what he’s thinking. He didn’t realize how terrible it all sounded out loud. He racks his brain for something—anything—to say and argue that those aren’t his intentions, but Hongwon is speaking again before he’s able to do so successfully.

“I don’t care if you invite her. Just don’t go expecting anything out of me.”

He nods his head weakly. “I didn’t mean for it to sound like that, bro…” He says scratching his neck, “I’m not trying to find someone to fix you...” he trails off.

“It’s cool.” He sniffles, the cold air getting to him. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to snap like that.”

Hamin is taken aback for a second, not expecting him to apologize. He kicks the floor with his sneaker, “S’cool.”

“You still hungry?” Hamin asks, afraid that their little spat would create unnecessary tension between them.

Hongwon tosses his cigarette onto the floor to put it out with his sneaker. “Fuckin’ starving.”

You went home together with Hyeri later that afternoon once your shift was over. It was always nice to go home when the sun was setting and the air felt cooler. You loved how quiet the city got, allowing you to simply be one with your thoughts.

Unfortunately for you, today was not one of those days.

You release a sigh as you continue to pretend to not notice Hyeri’s constant fidgeting. “Hyeri, if you want to know so badly just ask already.”

She releases a giant breath as if she had been holding it this entire time. “Oh thank goodness because I felt like I was actually going to die if you didn’t say something soon,” she says grabbing your arm excitedly, like a puppy who was just called over by its owner.

“What were you doing with those two hotties I’ve never seen before?” You couldn’t tell what made her more excited―the fact that she found them so attractive or the fact that you were talking to men other than your coworkers. “Is one of them single?” she stops walking and gasps, “Are they both single?!”

An older lady walking her Chihuahua gives you a scornful look as she passes the two of you and you bring your finger to your lips to shush Hyeri. “Sorry,” she says with a giggle, “but this is huge!”

You pull her along with you to cross the short crosswalk and to the steps of your apartment complex, “It’s not a big deal. Besides, you’ve seen Hamin before.” You say, slipping your house key into the lock and opening the door.

“Okay but, this time there was another guy too. And you guys talked for like 20 minutes! On your shift!” She says, removing her shoes quickly to stand in front of you excitedly. You stop untying your shoelaces to give her a look.

“He’s a friend I made through Hamin. Who is also just my friend,” You tell her slowly as if you were explaining it to a child but you can tell by her smile that she’s not listening. You sigh and slip your work shoes off, putting them in the hallway closet. Hyeri hovers behind you, not wanting to be too pushy but also too worked up to leave you alone.

You stand up straight and turn around. “Okay fine. Hamin invited me to this party,” this already has Hyeri clasping her hands over mouth, “he and his friend are playing a gig for a friend—”

She’s squealing and jumping around before you can finish your sentence. “And they want you there as their plus one! Oh my—”

“But I think Hamin knows about the breakup and he feels bad and that’s why he invited me,” you say quickly. Hyeri stops mid spin to give you an incredulous look. “I mean, they kind of saw the whole thing since it happened at work,” you say glumly.

Hyeri wraps her arms around you when she sees how you deflate at the reminder. “Hey, don’t make such a sad face. You guys have been friends for a while now, right? I haven’t met the guy but I’m sure he invited you because he wants you there and not because he pities you.”

“Sorry. I think I’ve been trying too hard not to think about it so all the negative thoughts are really hitting me now,” you say, resting your head on her shoulder. She always had such a comforting mom warmth to her.

She releases you and gives you a comforting smile. “Do you want to go?”

“Well,” you sit on your bed exhausted, “I actually didn’t know Hamin played music until recently. I’ve really been wanting to hear some of his stuff and apparently his friend does music too..”

“Girl, there’s your answer! Who says you have to spend your days sad and alone after a breakup? If you want to go, go.” She encourages you. She had a point. Although somewhere in the back of your mind, you felt guilty. When Hamin invited you, you were super stoked and set on going but now that you were really thinking about it, you couldn’t help but think of Jaewon.

“I can tell you’re overthinking this,” Hyeri says. “Don’t. You’re a free woman! Free from a man who took advantage of you and didn’t know how to treasure you. Do whatever the fuck you want because it’s no one’s business. It’s not like you’re planning to go sleep around.” She crosses her arms across her chest, “and even if you are guess what, it’s still no one’s business.” She says vehemently.

You pick at your nails and bite your lip. “Okay.”

“Okay?!”

“Yeah, I’ll go.”

She squeals again and launches herself onto you. You land with an oof on your bed, her head barely missing yours by an arm hair. “Oh, one more thing though,” you manage to say from beneath her. “They kind of invited you too.”

Hyeri lifts herself up at this. She stares at you with wide eyes, “what do you mean?”

“I guess they saw us talking together and figured we were friends. Also, they caught you trying to eavesdrop on our conversation.” You tell her.

“Nooooooooooo,” she cries and runs to throw herself onto her bed face flat.

“It was the hiding behind an upside down textbook for me,” you snicker.

“Y/N, please I’m in the middle of dying of embarrassment.”

#Young B #yang hongwon #yang hongwon x reader #yanghongwon #Khiphop #khiphop reactions #khh #khh scenarios #kpop imagines #smtm8

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chazz-anova · 4 years ago

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...And Hell Followed With Him, Chapter 3

Guys I finally did it!! 😭 Thank you to @fadedjacket who helped motivate me to keep writing this story, and thank you to everyone who reblogs content of my girl, Veronica! 💚💚 So, without further ado, here’s my newest chapter in my main fic! (Here’s the ao3 link for those who prefer to read there!)

1 / 2

Sunlight streamed through the bedroom’s windows, casting a golden glow onto the hardwood floor. Veronica’s eyes opened lazily and she squinted into the sunshine, her throat felt dry and her stomach hollow. When she looked at the end of the bed, a grey mass of fur rose and fell slowly. Wiping the sleep from her eyes- V made out the shape of Boomer slumbering at her feet. A smile came across her features when she heard quiet snoring from him.

Ronnie shifted her legs under the covers, trying to move slowly as not to wake her companion. Her bare feet met the planks quietly, and she went to the door. The moment she turned the knob to leave, Boomer’s head shot up and he looked around for a moment before yawning. He cocked his head at Veronica, and she went back to the bed to pat him on the head. “You can stay here, I’m gonna go check in with Mary May… and hopefully get a shower.” V tousled his floppy ears once more before heading downstairs as he settled back down.

On the main floor of the Spread Eagle- the people of Fall’s End were still celebrating their emancipation from the cult. Beer bottles clinked together and people laughed in groups. Mary May was running food and drinks to a table in the corner before she met Veronica at the bar. “Morning dep, you look tired.” The woman observed, her blonde ponytail swinging cheerfully as she wiped up a spilled drink at the end of the counter.

“Well I feel like shit. Got any aspirin?” Came Ronnie’s response.

“Nope, fresh out.”

“Hair of the dog it is then! One beer please.” Veronica sighed, hopping onto a stool.

Mary May grabbed a bottle from the cooler, setting it down in front of her with a smile. Veronica twisted off the tip, hoping the frosty beverage would quell her headache, “Also, could I use your shower, and maybe a change of clothes? I could definitely use it after last night.”

“Go for it!” Mary called back, hurrying over to another table to take their orders.

V headed back upstairs, opening the door to see Boomer sitting up with his tongue lolling out. “Hey little guy, sleep well?” She asked him and he hopped down, walking over to her and nosing her hand so she’d pet him. “You’re such a sweetie..” The deputy smiled and scratched under his chin before going into the en suite.

The shower was a small standing one with subpar water pressure, but as Veronica stood in the warm torrent she released a breath she didn’t know she’d been holding. This was practically the only moment of true solitude she’d had in two days, yet she couldn’t keep her mind from racing. How was she supposed to take down Eden’s Gate when she was just one woman? Sure, she’d been lucky so far, but at the end of the day she was only one person. V thought of her mother, the bright grin on her face the day that she’d watched Veronica follow in her footsteps and graduate from the Police Academy. What would she think of her daughter now? Would she also think she was a coward and a murderer like John?

Veronica raised a hand to clutch the heart-shaped locket her Nana had given her; it hung loosely around her neck and the metal was growing colder as the hot water depleted. She tried to shake the thoughts from her mind, thinking ‘I’ve only done what I had to do… my hand’s been forced..’ Yet in the back of her mind, V knew part of her wasn’t hating this, part of her wanted to make the people who’d snatched her from her normal life pay for the turmoil she was going through.

Almost thirty minutes later, Ronnie emerged from the steamy room wrapped in a fluffy purple towel. She immediately made her way to the dresser and dug through the drawers until she found an outfit that suited her. ‘Anything is better than tan fuckin’ cargo pants.’ She chuckled to herself, laying out dark blue jeans and a low-cut black tank top.

Once changed, she admired herself in the mirror and slipped her boots on. She noticed her brunette roots were spreading, and she was sure it would be a long time before she could dye it again.

Next, Veronica strapped her holstered handgun around her waist and grabbed her backpack and M60, swinging both over her shoulders. “God this gun is fucking heavy!” She cursed. Taking one last look around the room before heading downstairs, she saw Boomer had taken his leave already. ‘That dog has a mind of his own.’ V smiled, and closed the door behind her.

On the main floor of the Spread Eagle, business was still booming. Mary May was behind the bar speaking to one of the patrons who sat in front of her. When she caught Ronnie’s eye, she gestured her over. “Deputy! After a shower and a beer you seem bright-eyed and bushy-tailed.”

“Well I certainly feel better. Any way I could badger you for a meal?” The woman pulled out her wallet from the red backpack containing most of her belongings.

“You put that away, heroes eat free in my bar!”

At being called a hero, Veronica stiffened. The moniker didn’t seem to fit as comfortably as the barkeep used it; ‘What kind of hero murders people?’ Her mind practically shouted at her.

Mary May had already turned towards the kitchen, calling out “Casey? Get our friend, the deputy, some breakfast ready- would ya?”

The man in the window wiped his hands on his apron and nodded at the pair “One full breakfast, coming up!”

V came to her senses once more and put her wallet back in the pack she’d withdrawn it from, giving the barkeep a smile. “I appreciate that, but the ‘hero’ stuff isn’t necessary… I’m just trying to do what’s right, that’s all.”

“Oh I don’t think you have to worry about trying, seems like doin’ what’s right’s in your blood, hun. Not a lot of people would run in here guns ablazing to save a town of near strangers.” The blonde gave her another smile before going to check on her tables.

“That’s a pretty thought.” Veronica mused, thinking she wasn’t quite sure what was right anymore.

Her foot tapped against the metal of the bar stool as she watched the chef work, her stomach growling at her impatiently. She realised the last time she’d eaten was well over 24 hours ago, and that thought did nothing to help her hunger panes. Turning to the patron next to her, Veronica asked “Got a cig?” The man next to her obliged, giving her a nod as she stepped off the barstool and out the front door.

“I really wish this were a joint.” V shook her head before lighting up, inhaling the bitter fumes. Cigarettes had never been her favourite vice- but she would take what she could get at this point.

The morning sun poured over the small town, framing everything in an angelic light. Townspeople roamed through the streets, picking up debris and throwing it into contractor bags. Despite spending almost the whole previous day cleaning and mending the broken town, there was still much to be done. It heartened Veronica to see the people of Fall’s End working together to fix their home.

Another drag of her cigarette, and the deputy couldn’t help but reflect on the past two days. She’d seen more bloodshed than in her whole life, and been the cause of most of it. The weight of each death she had caused was heavy on her heart as she replayed watching the light fade from too many eyes.

Ronnie had never thought she’d need to discharge her weapon in the line of duty. Working at the Hope County Sheriff’s Department was a relatively easy job, there were your fair share of crazy people and petty criminals, but she had never seen anything like this. It crossed her mind that every time a call regarding Eden’s Gate had come across the scanner, her partner, Staci Pratt, had been completely against going and always let someone else go in their place. ‘Hell, even Sheriff Whitehorse didn’t seem to want to send us on those calls. God I hope he’s okay…’

Veronica’s mind drifted to her companions- and what they must be going through at the hands of the cult. Dutch had assured her that they were all alive, but he’d neglected to give her any details. She thought of Joey- the fear on her face as she had been snatched out of the flaming wreckage of their helicopter. Now where was she? Trapped by John, being held against her will for what purpose? To convert her?

The thoughts and questions raced through the deputy’s head, making her feel dazed. She continued to circle back to one thought: ‘I have to save them, I’m the only one who can.’ Her fingers felt the warmth of the cherry of her cigarette, and she realised she had smoked it down to the filter. V tossed it to the ground and wandered back inside. The customers were rowdy for only 11 in the morning, and their clamoring mixed with the song on the jukebox to create a nice din that allowed Veronica to not have to think anymore.

Reaching the bar, she saw a plate filled to the brim with eggs, bacon, and toast. Her stomach rejoiced as she picked up the silver fork and dug in.

In no time at all, the heavy meal rested comfortably in the deputy’s stomach. Ronnie leaned back on the stool and patted her midsection with a delighted smile. “My compliments to the chef!” She grinned and felt some of her bad mood fading away.

Mary May strode behind the bar and leaned over it, resting her elbows on the polished wood. “Don’t say that, or it’ll go straight to his head!” She chuckled, glancing at the kitchen window.

“So, deputy, remember last night when I mentioned you.. lending a hand?”

“I don’t remember much of last night, but I do recall that… what do you have in mind?”

Mary May took a deep breath, her gaze turning to the bar. “Yesterday, you had some balls running into town like that. Most people see Eden’s Gate and run the other way… but, my dad was one of the first to stand up to ‘em. Any time one of those peggies would show up lookin’ to cause trouble- he’d hop in his big rig and chase them right outta town.” She smiled at the memory, and with a nod she continued, “He loved that truck; called it the ‘Widowmaker’.”

Her face darkened, thunderclouds practically rolling into her deep blue eyes. “Those fuckers stole it from him, a week before he passed…” Her fist clenched on the bar and she shook her head.

“I’m so sorry, I had no idea.” Veronica sympathised, unsure if she should take the other’s hand but ultimately deciding against it.

The blonde pulled herself from her memories and met V’s eyes once more. “You really wanna piss off the cult? Get the Widowmaker back. Show them we’re not just gonna roll over… and give folks here something to cheer about.”

At this, Ronnie nodded; mulling it over for a moment. “How do you propose I do that?”

“It’s locked up under guard at a grain mill not far from here. Hell, you came in here and saved a whole town! I think you’re the person for the job, Veronica.”

The deputy saw sincerity and a hint of desperation in the bartender’s eyes, striking a cord in her. This woman had shown her some much needed friendship yesterday when the past days’ events were starting to take their toll, and Veronica wanted to do what she could for her. ‘This is also the only way I can get any closer to saving Joey, even though that’s a daunting enough task…’ V felt herself almost begin brooding, but got back on track quickly- “Okay, one Widowmaker coming up!”

Relief washed over Mary May’s features, and she smiled, “Somehow I knew I could count on you, dep.”

She returned her smile, and the two shared a happy moment despite the days of chaos. “Could I steal a beer for the road?” Ronnie asked.

Turning to grab a cold one from the cooler, Mary May obliged- popping off the cap and handing it over. “Be safe out there, and go ahead and take the Jeep ‘round back, just park it somewhere I can go get it after this business is over. The grain elevator is northeast of here, follow the road and you’ll be there in no time.” She offered as the deputy headed for the door.

“Thanks, I figure I can’t order an Uber around here.” V joked as she managed to catch the keys Mary May threw unceremoniously her way.

Outside- the morning sun rose higher and higher, blinding Veronica as she stepped out of the Spread Eagle. She made her way around the side, spotting the Jeep at the end of the dirt driveway. As she opened the driver’s door, a bark came from behind her. “Hey buddy!” The woman turned to see Boomer watching her expectantly. He padded closer to her with a small whine. “I don’t know if you should go with on this one, it’s pretty dangerous…”

His brown almond eyes met hers as if to say ‘And our last escapade wasn’t?’. She shook her head with a chuckle, reaching down to scratch him under the chin saying, “Most dogs aren’t adrenaline junkies, that’ll take some getting used to!”

Sighing, Ronnie put her hands on her hips; Boomer stood there, projecting as much sass as a 35 pound furball could. Finally relenting, she moved away from the open door and gestured him in, “Fine, I guess if you want to run headlong into danger I can’t stop you!”

The pup jumped into the passenger seat, celebrating his victory. Veronica took her spot next to him and started the car, pulling out of the driveway while fiddling with the radio. Faced with the ‘only-two-radio-stations-conundrum’, the deputy landed on the peggie station. The song playing relayed the perks of baptism, advising the listener to ‘let the water wash away their sins’.

“Is this seriously all they listen to?” V asked, glancing at Boomer as they cruised down the road. The dog sighed, putting his head between his feet in agreeance. She reached forward and switched the station back to the original one, where a soft rock song played.

The trees they passed blurred together, one green line as they sped to their destination. Veronica couldn’t help but let her thoughts stray to her own father. When Ronnie was only twelve, Benjamin Rook had ruined their family’s picturesque life by finding love in the arms of another woman, and abandoning Veronica and her mother. He moved to North Carolina and forfeited his parental rights without much of a fight so he could start life anew without the burden of his old family.

Letters would come in the mail; at first every week but then every two, then every month, and then not at all. Before long, Sarah Rook had decided her and her daughter needed a change of their own. The two packed up their belongings and moved from Butte, Montana to Hope County, right on the outskirts of Missoula.

Sarah, with previous law enforcement experience, had no problem securing a job at the Hope County Sheriff’s Department. She became quick friends with Earl Whitehorse, who was chief deputy to the sheriff at the time. Because of this friendship, she’d been able to secure a job for her daughter those many years later when Ronnie had felt so lost and needed a direction to go in life.

The wound of her father leaving never quite healed, and it wasn’t one Veronica tore open too often unless she was deep in her cups. Seeing the admiration Mary May held for her own father had almost reared the ugly head of jealousy in her; however irrational that may be. At the same time, she’d felt the need to preserve that happiness in any way she could. ‘Man, projecting much?’ She chastised herself. The things lack of closure will do to you.

Coming out of the trees, V saw a towering grey structure up the road and knew she’d reached her destination. To the side of the grain elevator and the building next to it rose a large hill. The deputy pulled off into a clearing, making sure the Jeep was out of sight of the road before getting out.

Boomer hopped out with her once parked, and the pair began their trek up the hill. It took them only a couple minutes before they were at the summit and had a decent view of their objective. The cattle dog growled at the sight of peggies patrolling the grounds, armed to the teeth. “We gotta be careful, okay bud? Just follow my lead and stay safe.” Veronica smiled reassuringly at him and pet his head.

The hill they stood upon sloped directly down to the fence around the building in which the deputy knew the Widowmaker must be kept, offering her a quick entrance to her objective. Patches of tall grass and flowers offered sufficient camouflage as the woman and her dog crept downhill. As they approached- the sound of the cult’s music and sermons could be heard. John’s voice was practically blasting over the speaker as he preached, “...We are fast approaching the Collapse! Soon, the world as you know it will be gone, and with it- all that is cruel and evil!”

V rolled her eyes at his words, trying to count the cultists waiting below. John’s voice continued, “But for those of you that embrace us, those of you who say yes to the Father; Eden’s Gate will provide salvation! Do not be afraid, God has graced us with the opportunity to start anew!”

The deputy pulled around her backpack, pulling out a pair of binoculars. “Looks like four peggies so far…” She muttered, watching them patrol. John’s voice over the speaker grew sinister as he said, “But not everyone is going to embrace us, some have fires that need.. dampening. Some need our help to say yes… that is the will of the Father, to say yes! To say ‘Yes I will be reborn.’, to say ‘Yes I will give my life for the project.’, to say ‘Yes I will pledge my soul to the family at Eden’s Gate!’!”

Veronica tossed the binoculars back into the pack and shared a horrified look with Boomer, affirming “Sounds like cult shit to me!” Her pup whined in response, taking the lead as they reached the bottom of the slope.

Slinging her M60 around her shoulders to the front of her body, Ronnie popped open the top and made sure the gun was fully loaded. As she did so- the deputy caught herself humming the cult song she’d heard on the radio barely thirty minutes earlier. “‘Now that this whole world is ending….’ fuck that song is such an earworm!” She cussed to herself and let the gun settle against her body once more. Taking a few deep breaths to prepare herself for whatever may occur, she decided it was now or never.

The woman lowered to almost a crawl and made her way to the bottom of the hill, into one of the flower patches. The soft yellow flowers had a perfumy scent that filled the air, but Veronica felt no different among the blossoms so she assumed these weren’t the Bliss flowers Dutch had mentioned.

One of the men who guarded the building strolled out of the fenced area, coming to stand just in front of her. He was whistling quietly, not paying attention to the danger behind him. V checked that no other peggies had followed him, and she rushed forward to grab him in a chokehold; slowly taking him to the ground and pressing her arm to his windpipe until he stopped struggling. She hoisted him onto her shoulder and retreated to the flower patch. After dropping him to the ground, Veronica checked his pocket and found a twenty dollar bill and a grenade. “Seriously? Are all these guys armed like this?” She wondered aloud before sliding the grenade into her bag. She hesitated over taking the money, thinking ‘Am I any better than one of them if I take this?’ After a moment, Ronnie slid the bill back into his pocket, thinking better of it.

Leaving her fallen enemy, she made her way back to the chain link fence and passed through a gate leading to a space behind the building filled with piles of wood, pallets covered in tarp, and all manner of odds and ends. Veronica took refuge behind a pile of 2x4s and peeked over it, spotting only one cultist at the end of the alley. Boomer waited outside of the gate, watching her every move. ‘I’ll take this guy out, and just keep trying to move forward.’ She planned loosely.

V moved from crate to crate, getting closer to her target until got close enough to take him out much the same way she did his lookout. She stashed this body behind a crate, finding only some spare ammo on him before advancing.

At the end of the warehouse was the backdoor. Ronnie tried the handle, but found it to be locked. “Well fuck..” She sighed. Turning to her right to continue on, she saw a note next to the door.

“The warehouse is to remain locked and access is limited. If you need to get inside you can find the key by the workshop tent, but check with the Baptist before using it. We can’t afford to be careless around the Widowmaker.”

The deputy frowned, “Baptist… that must be John.” The last line gave her a light laugh and she murmured, “I think it’s more careless to leave a note saying where your key is stashed, assholes.” And she set off.

In the space in front of the building, Veronica counted four more peggies. Looking to Boomer, Veronica murmured “It’s a damn infestation.” She scanned the ground and found plenty of small rocks, and helped herself to a few. One man was near the corner of the compound, away from the others. Taking careful aim, one rock was thrown about 10 feet from him. The man startled before going to investigate. V smirked and threw another one at the side of the building, luring him away from the flock. Once the man was alone he was dispatched, leaving only three.

Creeping further out than before, Ronnie saw the three gathered around two large cages covered in black. On the side, they both read ‘Meat Wagon’ and angry growls could be heard from within. ‘What the fuck is a ‘meat wagon’?’ She wondered.

“That was a hard hunt today.” One of them said, looking at the others.

“It was… I hope Brother Jacob appreciates these offerings.” The one in the middle replied.

The gnashing of teeth could be heard clearly as Veronica recalled what she’d read in Dutch’s bunker, ‘Jacob, he’s the eldest… didn’t his note say something about monster wolves?’ She contemplated this, deciding the best course of action.

She drew her pistol, shooting the lock on the first cage and allowing a large grey wolf to spring forth, leaping onto the cultist that had called it an ‘offering’. The wolf savaged the man as the others yelled, raising their guns. Before they could even get any shots off V shot them both to the ground.

The thick sounds of flesh tearing reached Veronica’s ears, and were sure to occupy her nightmares later. Once the wolf finished his revenge, its amber eyes found her own and a deep growl emitted from its throat. The deputy froze, licking her lips nervously as her life practically flashed in front of her eyes.

It felt like far longer than a minute as the wolf contemplated the deputy. Suddenly, the beast broke eye contact and looked behind her before dashing out of the tall gate leading to the road, and then to the treeline; content to not eat its savior.

It was only when Ronnie could no longer see the wolf that she resumed breathing. She turned around to see Boomer watching her. “Did you just scare a wolf?” She asked him in disbelief. The dog barked twice in response, and V sighed in relief “Props where props are due... holy fuck that was scary!”

After another solid minute, they headed towards the tent mentioned in the note. The keys to the warehouse were sitting on a table directly inside, and Veronica grabbed them.

Once inside the warehouse- the deputy took in the sight of her charge. The semi-truck was painted purple with a mural of a bald eagle painted on the side, and hot-rod flames graced the hood. On the front near the grill, twin M2 Browning machine guns were mounted. “Wow… I think I’m in love.” V chuckled, staring at the machine in awe before tentatively climbing into the cab, keeping the door open for her furry friend to hop in. She found the key and the garage opener in the visor, and then they were off.

Easily crashing through the fence gate, Veronica felt they were home free until someone called over the radio “Someone made off with the Widowmaker! Block the roads leading back to Fall’s End, don’t let it through!” Ronnie took a deep breath and turned up the radio, blasting rock music.

As she sped towards the first roadblock, Mary May’s voice crackled through the radio, exclaiming “Holy shit you did it! I knew you had it in the bag, V!” Before Veronica could think of a response, she continued. “Listen, the cult’s gonna throw everything at you now, shove it right back down their fuckin’ throats! My daddy put cannons on that thing, don’t be afraid to use ‘em!”

“You got it!” Ronnie called into the radio. She scanned the cab and her eyes landed on a trigger mechanism near the gearshift. The truck barrelled forward and the Brownings fired off, sending several peggies flying. Boomer hunkered down in the passenger seat, attempting still to peek up through the windshield.

Ahead, two of the off-white trucks with Eden’s Gate symbols blocked the way. The deputy braced herself for impact as the 18-wheeler crashed through the first of many roadblocks; the first truck flipped off of the road and the second spun out of the way. “Goddamn!” The deputy yelled as the Widowmaker hurtled down the asphalt.

The truck cleared the block with no damage, and Veronica lit up like a kid in a candy shop. She turned to her companion in the other seat, Boomer gave her a big doggy smile and turned back to look out the window. V pressed the call button on her radio, reaching out to Mary May. “This is pretty badass!” She whooped.

A second later, her friend was on the line, saying “Hell yeah! Hit those sons of bitches! Better yet, honk that horn every time you do so I know when to cheer!”

As they approached the next roadblock, a fierce grin came over her features and she smoothed a finger over the trigger in anticipation. The upcoming barrier was composed of one white truck, and a fuel truck blocking the entire road. When they were about two-hundred feet from the block, Veronica pulled the trigger, shooting off round after round into the tank on the truck ahead. When they were only a hundred feet away from it- the fuel truck erupted into a blaze, sending flaming shrapnel flying in every direction. Clearing the second block, V laid on the horn with an almost crazed grin.

The pair flew down the road and through the wall of heat and embers that had roasted all nearby cultists. They had once more come out without a scratch, causing Ronnie to rejoice. “Woo! This is the shit!!” She yelled, adrenaline pumping as the music resounded through the cab and they careened down the country road.

A few minutes later, the turn to Fall’s End was the next left. V’s eyes darted between the turn and the open road that lay ahead. ‘I’m sure the cult has even more roadblocks ahead.’ She mulled the thought over before turning to Boomer and declaring “I say we do a victory lap!” Before pressing the pedal almost to the floor, rushing down the road.

Many roadblocks later- Veronica and her furry friend were once again rounding the bend that led to the turn for Fall’s End. The deputy felt as though she was practically vibrating with the adrenaline coursing through her veins. The sounds of men screaming, the warmth of the multitude of explosions, the feeling of the trigger under her finger growing more and more comfortable. Her aquamarine eyes seemed to glaze over as she considered what all this might mean for her, and what her eagerness to cause mayhem may say about her true nature.

Before V could travel too far down that rabbit hole, her radio crackled to life with the grateful voice of her friend, “The way you’re handling that rig would make my dad proud, Ronnie. Now bring her home!”

Hearing Mary May’s voice laden with joy, Veronica couldn’t help a small smile. “Be there in 5!” She called back down the line, turning down the road at the sign for Fall’s End.

The moment Veronica and Boomer rumbled down main street to the Spread Eagle, the blonde bartender could be seen waving them on. The rig turned slowly onto the dirt driveway- and the hydraulics of the brake system hissing loudly as the 18-wheeler came to a full stop.

V pulled the keys from the ignition and the truck shuddered as the engine cut off, leaving the semi to creak and settle like a great beast falling into the deep slumber of hibernation when the pair hopped out of the cab.

Boomer’s tail wagged and he bounded ahead to circle round Mary May’s legs before returning to his companion’s side. Across from the pair, the barkeep beamed at the sight of the rig right where it belonged.

“I gotta say, deputy, seeing my daddy’s truck rumbling home sure brings back memories. I’d stand out here every time he came back, just like this, wavin’ him home.” A sigh escaped the woman and she nodded at Veronica, her eyes almost misting over. “Thank you for this, I honestly can’t thank you enough.”

Seeing the joy and nostalgia from her newfound friend warmed V’s heart, and she offered the other a heartfelt smile. “Ain’t nothin’ but a thing, girl. I’m glad to stick it to those peggies, show them they’re not the ones in charge. Not for long anyways.”

Mary May clapped her on the shoulder, looking up at the semi, her face filled with pride. “You know, my dad woulda liked you. You’ve got grit, that’s for sure! If you ever need to use the Widowmaker you don’t even gotta ask!” Moving past Veronica, the other placed a hand on the curved steel of the machine, sliding a hand lovingly over the smooth metal.

Ronnie’s smile faded, and she scratched the back of her neck. Clearing her throat softly, she spoke, “I really appreciate that, Mary May. Listen… do you know anything yet? …About Deputy Hudson, I mean.”

The blonde met her eyes, a frown plain on her face as she stated, “I ain’t heard nothing good, I can tell you that. All I know so far is that John’s got your friend holed up somewhere, and he’s trying to make her ‘atone’, whatever the fuck that means. So far it sounds like Hudson’s been holding out- but no one can hold out against John for long. Motherfucker’s crazy.” She spit on the ground, as though unable to contain her disgust.

Anxiety overtook Veronica, icy cold fear freezing the blood in her veins. At the forefront of her brain, images of Joey bound and bloodied assaulted her senses. Swallowing past her emotions, V asked, “What can I do next??”

Mary May put a reassuring hand on her shoulder before taking a few steps towards the bar. “Go talk to Jerome at his church, then come back and see me. I’m gonna go put my ear to the ground, and make a ridiculously strong drink with your name on it.”

“Sounds like a plan… especially that drink.” Ronnie muttered.

Once she was sure the bartender had made her way back inside, Veronica wrapped her arms around herself, a shiver running down her spine despite the warm breeze touseling her dirty blonde locks. She thought of her friends, each of them trapped and waiting for her. The weight of her obligations felt like too much to bear for one woman- but she knew there were no other options. Her hands fell to her sides, and her gaze was drawn to the ground. ‘What the hell am I doing here? Running around playing vigilante… and enjoying it, for fucks sake! These people may be monsters, but I sure as shit am not any better.’ V scoffed, chastising herself silently.

Her hand felt wet for a moment, and she looked next to her to see Boomer nudging her with his shiny black nose. He licked her again and met her eyes- his tongue lolling out of his mouth as he gave her a big smile as if to say, “It’ll all work out!”.

Despite everything, the corners of her lips tugged upwards, and she lifted her hand to stroke his soft fur. “Thanks bud, don’t you worry about me, I can handle this...” She reassured him, not quite convincing either of them.

Behind them, church bells from down the road chimed suddenly, signifying the top of the hour. The pair’s gaze was drawn to where the bells swung in the white tower- sounding off three times before coming to a stop. The echo of the last ring filled the air, and Veronica adjusted the strap of her M60 uneasily, looking down at Boomer once more to say, “Sounds like that’s our cue, huh?”

The pup barked encouragingly, starting off down the short road without looking behind to see if she followed. After only a moment of hesitation, V joined him.

Golden sunlight filled the near empty streets, painting the white walls of the church a shining shade of yellow. Paint peeled off the outside walls, but a platform on the side of the building with painting supplies held the promise of the future.

A simple garden graced the front of the building; two large flower pots framed the stairs leading to the entrance. Under a large glass window- the doors to the church were propped open, offering a view of the interior. Pastor Jerome sat on a chair in the front of the church, a Bible in one hand as he read to an injured man lying on a mattress on the floor.

As Veronica came through the entrance, she noted the bullet holes in the walls that were accompanied by violent maroon swatches of dried blood. It was hard to believe the fight for Fall’s End was merely 24 hours ago. The deputy stopped at the end of the aisle as Jerome’s words echoed off the holy walls.

“Psalm 41:3, and the Lord will heal him upon his sickbed, The Lord sustains them on their sickbed and restores them from their bed of illness. In the darkest of times, there’s always a bit of light.”

On the mattress, the man’s eyes stayed closed and he rolled on his side. The pastor’s eyes lifted from his pages, finding Ronnie’s. He greeted her with a smile, closing the book but leaving his thumb in it to preserve his spot. “Veronica. I’m glad you came.”

Clearing her throat, she replied “I just finished helping Mary May, I figured I’d drop in and see what you needed help with.” The woman’s finger ran down the strap on her weapon restlessly, glancing at the podium behind Jerome. It wasn’t hard to envision him there, preaching to his flock.

The man in front of her nodded, adjusting his glasses. “Jeremiah 23:16, ‘Do not listen to what the prophets are prophesying to you; they speak visions from their own minds, not from the mouth of the Lord.” He met her eyes once more and there was a weight to his gaze she didn’t quite understand.

Resisting the urge to say ‘Huh?’ and give him an annoyed look, Ronnie waited for him to continue. She’d never liked church, but standing in one now with proverbial blood on her hands felt even more wrong.

He waited only a moment more before saying, “Scripture tells us there is evil in the world. And that horrible things happen for reasons that do not make sense.” The pastor sighed. “A long time ago, in peaceful times, I asked John Seed what was driving him. He gave me so many answers… all of them lies. I had one conversation with him and I knew. I knew… he masks his words as guidance, but deep down there is a selfishness that can only come from pure evil.”

Not knowing what to say, Veronica looked away from him. She saw the man on the mattress had stirred, his eyes were glazed over with milky white cataracts yet they still searched the room for something. His breath came out in labored wheezes.

On the floor next to the mattress, a cup of water lay within his reach. V leaned over to grab it, putting a gentle hand on the man’s arm and saying, “Here…” While guiding the cup into his now waiting hands. He took small sips before offering it back, rasping out a quiet thank you as he settled back onto the bare bed.

“You seem tense, Veronica, how are you holding up?”

A long sigh escaped her lips, and she took a seat in one of the askew pews. “I’m not sure how to answer that.” Came her honest response.

“Do you need to talk about something?” He offered.

Ronnie smiled humorlessly- finally looking at him. “You know, this is the first time I’ve been in a church since my grandma died.”

Jerome pondered her for a moment before inquiring, “How old were you?”

“23. It was just last year, actually. I don’t go to church, but she did… every day. Except one morning she didn’t wake up, and she never went again. What do you think that got her? Do you think she stamped her ticket to heaven by going to church?”

When Veronica received no reply, she continued, “Because if that’s the case, I think my ticket’s already been revoked. Especially now.”

Settling his elbows on his knees, the pastor leaned forward. “Why especially now?”

V shook her head, a dry laugh escaping her. “Isn’t murder a big no-no to the man upstairs?”

Jerome frowned at her, understanding her tangent now. He took a moment to contemplate his answer. “Years ago… I refused to own a gun. I relied on the Lord to help me win every battle, to stand by my side and lead me to victory. Now, I know better.” He stood from his chair to join her where she sat dejectedly. “We are fighting a war, deputy. You’re here to protect people.”

She couldn’t help but scoff. “I’m here because I got thrown in a fucking river and dragged into this ‘war’. Excuse my French.”

“Veronica, I can’t heal the pain you’re feeling but I can say this: there’s a destiny for everyone. The work you’re doing here, fighting against Eden’s Gate, this is the Lord’s work. You are doing what you must, and every one of us is grateful. You are stronger than even you know.” Jerome gave her a long look, his faith in her clear in his eyes. “The cult has done so much damage to this Valley, and you’re doing right by us. Giving people something to believe in again… you can’t know how much that means to all of us.”

The woman took a deep breath, unsure how to feel. Jerome’s words filled her with hope for herself, and her friends; but she worried about what her breaking point might be. ‘At least someone thinks I’m doing this shit right.’ She thought, the weight of the world temporarily lifted from her tired shoulders. “Is it ironic that I’m an atheist?” Ronnie asked, a small smile appearing on her features.

“I think that’s the definition of irony, my friend.” Jerome smiled with her, and for the moment they both felt a sense of calm.

Veronica nodded, the idea of doing more dirty work not bothering her as much as when she first stepped in. ‘If a literal pastor thinks I’m the good guy, then I am, right?’ She reasoned with herself, pushing aside her moral dilemmas for now. “So, what exactly is it you need from me?”

Jerome sighed, suddenly weary once more. “With the Resistance budding, and people starting to fight back, I’ve been needed here in Fall’s End now more than ever.” He stood once more and wandered to the front of the church, pacing as he continued, “As you can see- John’s making a lot of people suffer right now, and quite frankly, I can’t keep up. These people need me, they’re my responsibility now... but that just means keeping tabs on the Resistance has been that much harder.”

The deputy nodded, urging him to finish his thought. It seemed everyone was experiencing some degree of the mental turmoil she’d been enduring over the past few days.

“There are a couple of people hiding away at Woodson Pig Farm, trying to hold out from the cult. I haven’t heard from them in a few days now, and I’m getting worried. Can you check on them for me? We can’t afford to lose a single one of our fighters.” The man pleaded, finally coming to a stop at his podium.

Veronica reached into her backpack, pulling out the map Dutch had given her. “Where’s it at?”

Jerome pointed out a building almost directly east of Fall’s End, only a couple miles away.

The deputy nodded and stashed her map, “I’m off then!” As she headed for the exit, Boomer got up from where he’d been lying in the corner and stretched before following after. V paused in the doorway, turning back to say, “Thank you, Pastor. Really.”

“Any time, Veronica. I’m a pretty good listener. Good luck.” He nodded to her as she stepped through the threshold.

In less than 10 minutes, the duo saw a long dirt drive leading up a hill into the trees. They could hear shouting not too far away. “Sounds like it’s time to ditch the car.” V pulled the key from the ignition, and the pair left it at the bottom of the driveway.

They trudged up the hill, the yelling growing closer by the moment. At the crest of the driveway, there was a worn sign that read “Woodson Pig Farm, Family Farm Since 1942” with a pink pig above. The word ‘Gluttony’ had been scrawled on the pig.

Behind the sign stood a small, mint-green house with dried flowers adorning the front porch. A rustic looking fence surrounded the house and farm, but had been broken down in a few spots where the cult’s trucks had crashed through. Veronica crouched behind one and peered around it.

The front door of the house stood ajar, and a single peggie stood inside. He held his gun close, and was yelling at another man who was bound on his knees. “Saying yes is the only way!” He shouted before using the butt of his gun to hit the man in the face. Ronnie winced as the captive spat blood.

Creeping closer, the deputy peered through the windows of the house. She saw no one else inside, and inched forward. Next to the frame of the door, a white and red poster had been hastily hung. Veronica’s eyebrows raised in surprise as she recognized what the poster depicted. It was a ‘Wanted’ poster, with the word ‘Sinner’ bolded on the bottom; the picture in the center was from a grainy security camera, but Veronica’s face could be clearly made out.

‘Wow, I’m so infamous I get my own wanted poster?’ She thought with a brief, bemused smile. Ronnie made it to the doorway, and pulled out her long black hunting knife. Inside, the cultist was still yelling at his hostage with his back to the doorway.

Veronica crept forward and then lunged, grabbing the man and thrusting the blade through his neck. A deluge of blood sprang from the nicked artery, painting both the cultist and the hostage red. V kept her hand clamped down on her victim’s mouth, until his muffled yelling turned into choking gasps.

The man’s body slumped to the floor; and the woman wiped her knife on his shirt before using it to cut the bonds of her ally. The man stood his eyes wide with shock. “Go, get out of here and hide! I’ll take care of the rest of them.” Veronica insisted. The man nodded shakily and turned, running out the door.

Ronnie moved through the living room to the back of the house, heading towards the back door. She paused at the entrance to the bedroom, where she could see two peggies outside the window. One held a flamethrower, and was using it liberally on a pile of the occupant’s belongings.

Pressing on to the back, V came through the door into blinding brightness and held an arm over her gaze to let her eyes adjust. When they did, she gagged at the sight in front of her. In the fenced pen, a pile of pig corpses festered in the sun. To the left of this awful vision, another cultist berated a woman lying on the ground, her hands and feet bound.

A moment was needed to compose herself, then Veronica crouched once more to sneak along the side of the building. Behind her, the other two peggies were bickering. “Brother John’s head is clouded. We should just kill the deputy.” One of them said.

“He said she needs to atone, see the error of her ways. He’s serious about this one.” The other replied, his tone cautionary.

A chill seized Veronica as she imagined herself at the hands of John; tied to a chair, at his mercy. A strong shiver traveled down her spine, and she stiffened as her brain took that thought in a much different context. Bile filled her throat with the realization that even with all she knew of John, she was still attracted to him. She shook her head, shooing the thought from her conscious.

Behind her, Boomer had made his way out the back door and to her side. It relieved her to see him, and she smiled. “Wanna tag team on this one?” Veronica asked her companion.

The cattle dog’s ears perked up, and he scratched at the ground in anticipation. Nodding, Ronnie murmured “Good boy! Now, see him?” She pointed to the man in the pig pen. “You take care of him, and I’ll grab them.” Her finger drifted to the pair who were still complaining behind them.

Seeming to understand, Boomer started forward with his ears low and came up behind the man. He leapt forward and seized the peggie’s arm- wrenching him down to the ground. The man fell with a startled yell and hit the dirt. Boomer wasted no time and went for the jugular, mauling him before he could make another noise.

At the same time, Veronica pulled her M60 forward and jumped out from behind her cover. She shot a spray of bullets at the two cultists, not even giving them time to go for their weapons before they dropped. V let the machine gun fall against her, and she went to the woman in the pig pen to cut her loose.

“Thank you, deputy, I knew you’d come!” The hostage professed, picking up her deceased captor’s weapon.

Ronnie gave her a bashful smile, replying “Happy to help, Miss… now you should get out of here, get somewhere safe.” What she was really thinking was, ‘Am I a household name or something? Jesus.’

The woman nodded before turning and leaving through a gate in the fence.

Once she was out of sight- Veronica turned back to the house and headed back inside. In the living room, she was about to pull out her radio and call Jerome when she heard something that made her stop. A faint click, and then something that sounded like whispering came from above.

V looked all around her, finally stopping in the middle of the living room and peering up. Above her there was a large, square opening that looked like it had been hastily covered by flattened cardboard boxes. She frowned and jumped up, hitting one of the pieces with a thud. The sound suddenly stopped.

Jumping again, Ronnie batted the cardboard away and left the opening uncovered. She paused for a moment, listening hard for anything. A few moments passed with no noise- and the woman made one last jump to grip the edge of the opening. With a small grunt, she pulled herself upwards into the attic space.

As she hoisted herself up, she took in her surroundings. The attic was small, only the length of the living room. Two wooden shelves stood opposite one another; one filled with only boxes and the other holding some ammo and a tac vest. Next to the second shelf, there was a dark recess in the wall.

Veronica clutched her gun closer, and heard the same noise as before: a click followed by a softer noise. She stepped closer to the recess in the wall, and could finally distinguish the noise. A man huddled in the space behind the wall, gripping his radio and whispering hurriedly, “That sinner’s here!! Send a capture party! We can get her for John!”

Their eyes met, and the deputy scowled at the man before firing at him. He fell backwards with the force of the bullets, gore covering the wall behind him. His radio was still intact, and his contact could be heard shouting “It’s deputy huntin’ season! Capture not kill, we need her alive! Use Bliss bullets!”

The woman grabbed some ammo off the nearby shelf and stuffed it into her backpack. After taking what she needed, she dropped down into the living room and checked her gun. As she was about to reload- an off-white Eden’s Gate truck screeched to a stop in front of the house, and three men in heavy riot gear hopped out.

Upon seeing this, Veronica dove for cover before they could see her. Her back rested against the wall next to the front door, and she heard one of them shout “Come on out darlin’!” She swung around her backpack and pulled out her radio, turning it to the frequency she wanted.

“Jerome, it’s Veronica, I secured the farm but one of those fucks called for backup and they said something about a capture party? I don’t know what the hell that is, but I sure as shit don’t plan on finding out.” She babbled into the radio. When no response came, the deputy moved underneath the window, readying her weapon. She peeked up and aimed, seeing one of them on the porch.

Before Ronnie could get off a shot, a sound behind her caused her to whip around and she was confronted with one of the men; who must have come in the back while she was making her call. He shot a round, hitting her in the thigh and causing her to yelp with pain. Before she could make a comment about his aim, or think about why the bullet hadn’t torn through her, her vision blurred.

The world became shaky- and stars swarmed her sight. V was able to slur together a few words before she passed out, and she grumbled “You… asshole…”

Though she could no longer see, Veronica could feel someone pick her up in a fireman’s carry. She knew they’d tossed her into the back of the truck, and heard the engine rumbling in the distance. A few bumps in the road were the last things she felt every sensation was gone, and she fell into a white abyss of Bliss.

#i feel like i havent written in forever so if this is bad im sorry lmaooo #so glad i finally finished this chapter though #hope everyone enjoys this!#❤❤❤#my writing #veronica rook #far cry 5 #fc5 #mary may fairgrave #jerome jeffries #boomer #ahfwh #...and hell followed with him

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bardicbeetle · 4 years ago

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Snip - unwanted reconciliations

Ooops It’s been too long since I put Jesse in an uncomfortable situation, let’s go! This time featuring my hatred of having to be the bigger person when you’re the child, but suffering through it anyways bc you’re the ‘good kid’.

“Sarah? What’s wrong?” She’s been silent on the other end of the line since he picked up, just an occasional shaking breath. Jesse was going to just wait until she seemed able to speak but it’s starting to worry him.

“I- look I know you hated dad and you had good reason to- and it’s all complicated and-”

“-He’s dead, isn’t he.”

It’s not a question.

It doesn’t have to be.

Her voice breaks in her response “Yeah, yeah um, he had a fall and- can you- would you-”

“When’s the funeral, Sarah?” He’s struggling to keep his voice low and calm, he can process once he’s off the phone, once it won’t affect her.

“Saturday.”

“I’ll be there Friday night.” He assures her “Love you.”

“Love you too.”

He drops the phone as soon as he’s hung up.

He shouldn’t, he hears the back pop off and the battery go flying when it hits the ground. Probably to vanish somewhere under the bed, under his dresser, it doesn’t really matter. Jesse sits back on the edge of his bed, staring at the floor, not sure what he’s supposed to be feeling. What do you feel for the death of someone you’re supposed to love but you don’t? For someone who treated you like the scum of the earth until you were finally enough of a problem to get thrown out?

Bill Addison is dead.

He’s not sure if there’s any real feeling behind it.

Bitterness for not having ever really confronted him?

Relief that he never had to?

“Jesse?”

“Dad’s dead,” Jesse mumbled “funeral Saturday, don’t wanna talk about it.” After a moment he opens his arms and adds “Can you just come here?”

Daniel obliges him without another word. It’s been a very long time since they’ve spent a whole night in bed together, but Jesse can’t bring himself to move. He stays wrapped around Daniel, waiting for something to change, waiting for some revelation he can’t see coming. Something to tell him what he’s meant to do now.

When restlessness takes over for lethargy he says something about needing Moira’s help and finally gets up.

This was true.

He needed to her dye his hair back to blond.

It felt like something he could manage. Just not something he could manage alone.

“You still awake?”

“Mmmm,” Moira doesn’t look around the canvas obscuring her from view, her back to the window that will spill sunrise soon. “what do you need?”

“I need your help dying my hair blond.” Even the word itself makes his mouth want to curl. He remembers dying it the first time, honey and sunshine going black-

“You hate when your hair is blond.” She doesn’t miss a beat, she does actually look around now, brush in hand, paint coating her arms. “Is something wrong?”

“Funeral.”

Her eyes go wide and Jesse stops her before her thoughts go anywhere tragic:

“My father. I told Sarah I’d go.”

“Oh-”

He doesn’t mean to cut her off again, but he can’t talk about it. Doesn’t want to. Doesn’t feel like he can. “Please, Moira- I just want to get this over with.”

“Yeah, yeah okay.”

There’s usually something therapeutic about dying his hair, something about having control over even a small aspect of himself that brings him some calm. Usually. Seeing himself blond again has much the opposite effect. It leaves him feeling vulnerable and small in ways he hasn’t felt in decades. It also calls up the fact that he’s supposed to be... God, fifty-two? Sarah looks older than he does now.

It’s the least he can do, he reminds himself.

It’s something.

~*~

“Let me know if you change your mind.” Daniel tells him “I’ll come if you need me.”

He doesn’t want to let go, doesn’t want to leave the safety of the home he’s made for himself. He doesn’t want to set foot back in that monster of a house and pretend he’s fine being there. But he smiles, though he can tell it will look forced, and replies: “I will. It’ll be alright. I’m just there for Sarah anyway.”

“I love you.”

“Love you too.” He presses a last kiss to Daniel’s forehead and closes his eyes.

His father’s study is the one room he can think of that is unlikely to have changed since his last time there. Smelling faintly of tobacco and cinnamon, all dark wood and smooth glass-

He opens his eyes to find he was right, it looks nearly identical. Books have probably changed, a lamp has been replaced, but the main things are the same. There’s a new picture of Sarah and her kids on the desk from last Christmas, and next to it-

Next to it is his graduation picture from Berkeley.

It’s such a shock to see that he’s taken by the immediate need to check if it’s real.

He’s reached out to touch it when someone screams.

Turning to see his mother, “Who are-” she stops as she’s able to look at him properly. It occurs to him then that she hasn’t actually seen him blond since he was first kicked out, when he was fifteen.

“Hello, mother.” It’s a little stiff, Jesse can’t help it though, all his energy is going to keeping a handle on his emotions right now. Everything is just trying not to let this house affect him the way he knows it’s going to if he’s here for very long.

There isn’t a whole lot of time to try and find more to say, regardless of if he wants to or not, because almost as soon as he speaks, she’s crying.

Jesse doesn’t want to comfort her.

He doesn’t want to have to.

He takes a breath and pulls her into a hug. While it just seems to make her cry harder at first, whole body shaking with the effort of it, she does hug him back. This isn’t what he’s here for, this is in fact exactly what he’s not here for. He doesn’t want to make things better. It’s not his responsibility.

As wrapped up in his own thoughts and not wanting to be here as he is, it takes some time to notice the steady stream of apologies making their way out between tears. Pulling back, he looks at his mother’s shaking form and- despite how fragile she looks- has to overcome the urge to shove her away. “Mother, stop.”

“I- but I-”

“I mean it, stop.” He’s never tried to do that before, it feels like all the air gets pulled out of him with the words, but she does stop talking long enough to collect herself and still the shaking. “I’m fine.”

“You’re doing okay?” She asks finally, a little of her normal voice returning.

“I’m alive, aren’t I?” It feels somewhat backhanded, considering the last time they saw each other, but Jesse can’t really bring himself to care.

The silence is too heavy here.

He hates it.

Everything feels so much the same.

Miranda looks ready to cry again, but instead she just shakes her head a little and motions for Jesse to follow her out of the office. He notices his pictures have returned to the walls. It still doesn’t matter. It wouldn’t have mattered before. It’s been too long for a gesture like that to be worth much. His room still looks much the same as last time, plain and empty and-

He can’t help but think of the last night he’d spent here. When he still thought he was going to die. When everything still felt like it was falling apart.

His mother seems to gather herself before speaking again, and it comes out like the words feel strange on her tongue. “Will Daniel be joining you, tomorrow?”

The question takes Jesse so off guard he doesn’t respond at first. He’s not sure if that feeling bubbling up is going to end in laughing in her face or starting to cry. “Would you care?” It’s harsher than it needs to be, colder, but he tells himself it’s deserved. Like everything else it doesn’t matter. He can’t let it matter if he wants to keep going.

Everything is spinning.

He’s gone.

@cjjameswriting / @falling-rivers / @the-ichor-of-ruination / @maabonwrites / @alessia-writes / @pippermiints / @im-a-bitch-youll-get-used-to-it / @blve0 / @harrybpoetry / @babycollectionman / @inexorableblob / @blueberrypoptart / @8bitgaemr / @betwixtofficial / @drowsy-quill / @ezwriting / @ofinscriptions / @luxscribbles / @anoldfashionedlesbianlovestory / @vaguelyhumanekid / @meatandboneasmr / @h-faith-marr-writeblr / @draculinawrites / @kentwrites / @greenwood-writes /

#writeblr #writers on tumblr #vampire writeblr #am writing #sitdsnips #sitd #wip sitd #character ref ja #safe in the dark #sitdv12 #lsdente

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hobbitsnapes · 4 years ago

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The Red Hoods Protègè chapter 4

Older Damian Wayne x ofc

(Photo made by my lovely friend @bakketsux)

Summary:Red hood has taken a young vigilante under his wing and subsequently changes Damians life forever. (I suck at summary’s)

A/N: I know this doesn’t have anything to do with the story, but with what is happening with our world/country I want to put this out for you all. Times are tough and our world is in need of more love. I want everyone to feel and give out as much love as they can to even those who don’t love you. Please if are able to text ‘FLOYD’ to 55156.

As Jason and angel get to their apartment and climb the many steps, they have a comfortable silence over the both of them. Jason goes and unlocks the front door with his key and they both walk in and take their masks off. Angel taking off the hood that is secure to her head along with her domino mask that Jason gave to her.

The smell of food from what they assume to be from Roy filling the small apartment. They both walk into the kitchen to see a pizza box on the counter with a note attached. ‘Since you guys will be in late.’ Both grab a piece and start eating in the empty room with nothing but the moon coming from the widows to light the room.

“Hey after I’m done I’m gonna hop in the shower okay.” “Okay little one.” “You know I’m not that much younger than you.” She says with a laugh. “But are you still younger than me?” “Yes..” “then you’re my little one, little one.”

He starts to chuckle as she goes to her room to change out of her suit. As she peels off her suit starting with the secret notches in her suit, then to the hidden zipper in the front, a sigh escapes her when she gets the material off of her skin and can feel the cold breeze on her hot skin. As the suit comes off her back, a shiver runs up her spine when the cold hits her scars. She doesn’t pay attention to it as she removes her bra and panties and puts on her robe. She takes her suit and puts it on the dresser to wash later.

She steps out of the room to see the kitchen and living room to be empty, a light coming from under Jason’s door.

She walks to the bathroom and switches the light on, engulfing the room with light. She takes a look at herself in the mirror first checking for anything on her face, she sees that when she looks at her hair, blonde is coming in the roots. “Hey jay!” She yells. “Yeah?” “Tomorrow can I go to the shop and get some hair dye?” Jason steps out of his room with his sleeping clothes on. “That’s if you get me some as well, I’ve needed to dye mine for weeks now.” “Okay I’ll just get the same one then.” “Okay, goodnight little one.” “Night jay jay.”

She shuts the door and turns the water on and sets it to a warm temperature. She strips from her robe and sets it on the counter.

She steps into the shower and lets the water engulf her and sighs at the comfort it brings. She grabs her sponge and lathers in in soap as she gingerly rubs her body down from the sweat that collected on her body. Taking extra care on any healing wounds from previous nights. As she reaches up to wash the top of her shoulder blades a sharp pain runs through her and a small cry leaves her as the pain sets in until she lowers her arms. She waits for the pain to subside to get back under the water. She puts her head under the water and lets the water wash the soap from her body and wet her hair. She grabs the shampoo and lathers her scalp and smiles at the minty cooling it brings.

She stands in the water for a few minutes even after she’s finished washing her hair. She’s so tired she could fall asleep in here.

She shuts the water off and steps into the steamy room and grabs a towel and drys off, putting the towel on her head to dry her hair as she puts her robe on. She goes back to her room to see her suit is no longer on the dresser. Jay must’ve come and gotten them. She smiles as she grabs a shirt that she took from Jason one of the first nights that she came to live here. Even after a year of training it’s still fitting like a dress on her. She gets into bed and lets the comfort of her bed put her to sleep.

She comes into the apartment with a bag containing 2 boxes of black hair dye and a snack for later. “Jay jay im home!” “Bathroom!” “You taking a shit?” “No!” “You naked?” “No” “okay then.”

She enters the bathroom and is met with Jason, bent down to see the top of his head, with a fine tooth comb trying to take the white tuft of hair away from the rest of his hair but failing miserably. “Want some help?” “Please.” She chuckles as Jason sits on the toilet and grabs the comb and starts Sectioning his white bit from his hair. “Why don’t you dye this bit, I never understood why you keep it.” “Makes me look badass.” A laugh rumbles from her and Jason joins in with her. “Yeah and the 6’4 height and the 200 plus pounds of Muscle along with guns isn’t enough.” “Hey plenty of guys have that, who else can say they got a white tuft of hair?” “Old guys, maybe you are getting old now!” “You little shithead.” Jason grabs her sides and starts tickling her, as she lets out a laugh and a cry and tries folding her body from him and he gets up and keeps tickling her sides. “ST-O-PP II-TT!” She laughs “STOP IT DAD!” The tickling stops as she gasps and looks away from Jason. She feels his large arms wrap around her and is squished to his chest. She wraps her arms around him as well. “Okay then I’ll stop, daughter.” A few tears threaten to leave her eyes but she wipes them away on his shirt.

As they untangle their arms from around each other Jason kisses the top of her forehead, a smile breaking on her face. Jason sits back down while she takes the white hair and ties them with a small rubber Elastic and pins them away as to not get any dye on it.

She prepares the dye and puts it in a paper bowl and dips the brush into the mix, and starts off by painting the hair around the white. Then once that is coated she spreads more dye on his hair, getting it in well on his strawberry blonde roots and coating all the hair until it’s fully saturated in the now dark dye. She wraps his hair in cling film. Leaving out the white bit.

She sits down as Jason takes the other box and mixes the dye. He puts the gloves on and takes a glob and puts it in her hair, some drips on her forehead and she laughs at the scared look on Jason’s face. “Maybe don’t pick up so much dye in one go eh.” “Yeeaahh I’ll remember that next time.” He takes a washcloth he has ready for this very purpose and wipes the dye from her forehead. She chuckles at the look of pure Concentration on Jason’s face, even his tongue sticks out a little bit. He carefully rubs the dye into her hair and a calm silence overcomes the two. When it’s all in she wraps her hair in cling film and waits another 20 minutes for Jason’s hair to Process.

Once the 20 minutes has passed they go into the kitchen and Jason bends down to get his head in the sink. She starts washing the dye from his hair and makes sure not to get any in the white. Once it’s washed out her hair is ready. “Now I’ll try not to get any water in your ear like last time.” “You better not.”

Jason starts rubbing the dye out of her hair, another silence overcomes them as the water turns from black to clear. She gets up and puts her hair in a towel. The two walk into the living room and sit down on the couch. “What do you wanna watch?” “Umm, I don’t know.” “Have you seen the Harry Potter movies?” “No?” Jason gasps. “Okay I know what we’re doing for the rest of the day.”

He gets up and goes over to his stack of movies and picks one to go into the tv slot. “While you do that I’m getting something to eat.” She goes to the fridge and sees what she’s been waiting for all day. She grabs the yogurt and a spoon and plops on the couch with Jason. “How can you eat that shit?” “It’s the most wonderful and Decadent food in all of existence.” She says as she puts the spoon in her mouth. They relax as the first scene comes on and prepare to watch what will probably take up the rest of their day.

As Damian walks down the hallway of the manor he’s greeted by Alfred. “Master Damian, master dick has requested you to go to the family room for ‘brother time.’ I brought sandwiches and lemonade for you both.” “Thank you Alfred.” Damian groans as he walks towards the living room. The sound of the large TV is heard down the hallway the further he gets to the room. Damian walks in and sees dick laying on one of the large couches facing the TV. “Hey dames, come on in.” Damian rolls his eyes as dick sits up and he joins him on the couch. “What do you want, you never just invite me to watch a movie.” “I know, I was here helping Bruce with a case and we got it figured out faster than we thought and I’ve got nothing to do today. So I thought we’d have some brotherly bonding time.” “Can’t you do that with drake?” “He’s out with steph today.” “And Todd?” “Damian...you know he doesn’t talk to us anymore..hasn’t for a while.” “Probably because he’s got his hands full with that annoying little brat hes taken in.” “Wait what? What do you mean?” “Last month father and I went out one night to a large drug trade and found the place filled with bodies. When we found the couplet it was Todd and said he wanted to show us their work. He’s taken in a young girl and calls her his Protègè. And god she’s Insufferable and won’t shut up and is a fucking Nuisance.” “Oh yeah, what makes her that way?” “She’s always saying something snarky, always with a smug look on her face and makes inappropriate comments towards me.” “What kind of comments does she make? And why does it bother you so much dames?” “I’m done talking about her, if I keep thinking about her I’ll get a headache.” “Okay then..” dick says with a smile. “What do you want to watch?” “I don’t care, just nothing annoying.” “You find everything annoying.” “Not everything, just most things. Besides father and I leave for patrol in a few hours.” “Ever seen Chicago P.D.?” “No.” “Then we’re watching that.”

When Damian walks down to the cave he sees his father is already in his suit. “I need you to hurry up tonight, Croc escaped the asylum and is in downtown Gotham.” “Got it.” He hurried to get dressed and grab his things faster than normal.

Catastrophe, all that was around them was destroyed apart from the tall buildings that stood high into the sky. Cars where abandoned with windows broken. Glass and Debris scattered all over the ground, crunching against their boots as the walked around trying to find where croc went.

A scream could be heard on the other street over, Batman and robin running towards it. They cane to a halt when they saw croc holding a woman in the air, about to rip her apart when a bullet was shot into crocs foot. The beast let out a roar and threw the woman, both men running towards them to not only save the wounded woman but to stop croc. As Batman runs to fight croc, Damian crouches down to pick the injured woman. That is until he hears another person running towards them. It’s her. “You go help Batman and I’ll take her to safety.” Angel picks up the woman and runs towards the other street, presumably to where the cops are.

As Damian goes to help his father he gets hit by the tail of croc, throwing him to the ground a few feet away. Croc sets his eyes on the fallen robin, and charges at him raising his claws to strike him. But before he could be ripped apart a shot fires and hits crocs hand. As croc clutches his hand in pain, Damian feels arms wrap around him, pulling him up. “Are you hurt??” “No im fine!” “Then do your fucking job and try not to get killed!” Angel takes a rock next to her and throws it at crocs head. Angering him and having him charge at the both of them. Damian takes his grappling gun and shoots croc in the head and pulls him to the ground and kicks his head into the ground. Angel gets on top of croc and beats his head into the ground until croc gets back up and she swings off from him before he can fling her off. Red hood appears and shoots croc in the knee. Croc falling to the ground in pain. Batman comes and kicks crocs head into the ground again, finally Knocking him unconscious.

“You know I didn’t need your help!” “Hmm yeah, totally looked that way when you just laid there when he was about to rip you apart!” “We had it under control!” “You had it under control as much as you control your angel issues.” “DO YOU EVER SHUT THE HELL UP!!” “Don’t be fucking MAD AT ME THAT I SPEAK THE TRUTH! EVERYONE JUST TIP TOES AROUND YOU BUT GUESS WHAT I WONT! You’re just fucking mad that I speak the truth!” “IF IT WASN’T FOR THIS CODE I WOULD’VE KILLED YOU BY NOW!!” “ROBIN! STOP IT NOW!”

Damian didn’t hear his father when he charged at her, no longer able to control his anger. He grips her arms and throws her, her landing on the ground. She reaches back and hits him as hard as she can in the mouth, stunning him for a second as she flips around, slamming her thighs around his neck and locking him in a choke hold. “You know, most people in this Position are in very different Circumstances. If you weren’t such a prick I’d offer to try it out sometime.” She gets off of him as he gasps for breath. He hits her and throws her again, against a car and walks away.

“You know, I looked up to you when I was on the streets. Thought you and him were a symbol of good, justice, and to help others. Now I see you’re just a broken man who can’t handle when someone challenges you and gets angry when someone defies you. Robin is supposed to help people, to help the greater good and to save this city. You’re no robin.” When he turns around she’s gone. When he heard her, a pain shot through his heart. He let his anger control him, he was becoming what his mother trained him to be. A soldier that ends anybody who defies his beliefs.

As him and his father speed away awards the manor, a silence fills the space. Damian looking down just thinking. He’s not thinking about one thing in particular, more a jumble of things that he can’t put into parts and Sort through.

When they reach the manor Damian gets out and starts walking away, not even bidding Alfred or his father a goodnight. Both men watching him walk away with tense and rushed footsteps.

The sound of his door opening brings Damian back to reality. He walks into the room with his head still down. He goes to the bathroom, striping from his suit and getting into the shower. He scrubs all the sweat and grime from his body and washes his hair.

As Damian gets out of the shower he looks in the mirror and sees a bruise starting to form on his neck, from the girl who may Infuriate him, but also he let down because of his anger, a lesser but still strong pain shoots him in the heart at the thought. Her usual arrogant and snarky voice sounding disappointed and, pained. How many others has he let down since becoming robin? How many no longer look at robin as a symbol of hope. How many no longer think of robin being good, all because of him. The thought hurts him to think as he climbs into bed. The pained sound of her voice ringing in his head until sleep overcomes him.

Tags: @comic-nerd-dc @bakketsux @psychovigilantewrites

#damian wayne x reader #damian wayne fanfiction #damian wayne imagine #damian wayne #batman #batfamily #batfam x reader #dc imagine #dceu #dc #jason todd #red hood

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whispersafterdusk · 4 years ago

Text

Lost in Time - ch 7

"Oh come on - you're going to eventually own more than two sets of clothing you know."

Eli had once said Gale seemed like 'an animated fellow' - if he was animated then Selene was animated to the power of ten; there were times she thought of the builder as a hyper little puppy and it wasn't a personality type she was entirely used to just yet so the woman's eagerness was a bit daunting sometimes.

"You've already spent a lot of money on me-" Eli started, only for Selene to make a hushing gesture.

"Yes, I have, and I've got gols to spare -- just to rub it in Higgin's face once I purposely made certain I stayed the number one top shop in Portia for three years in a row. That built up quite the savings and I'm not going to be spending it on myself anytime soon. Now come on - you need more than a bed and a tiny table. Go nuts!" the woman laughed, gesturing at the various furniture items that lined the walls of...was it Paulie? Paulie's store. ((Continued below cut))

She'd eventually decided on staying with Selene; Happy Apartments had reminded her too much of the barracks, and she...wasn't ready to deal with that constant reminder yet. So, the offered, spacious room at Selene's had been her choice, and Selene had awakened her bright and early to go furniture shopping. The bed was easy: a simple wooden frame and headboard that had an ivy pattern carved into it and a basic mattress; the frame and headboard were painted a nice cream color and the ivy was a deep green. Along with it she'd chosen a matching bedside table that had two small drawers built in, and she'd deemed that sufficient enough to start out with but Selene was...very insistent on furnishing the entire room.

There was another small table that matched the bed, and the builder woman kept "subtly" nudging her toward a bookcase with matching chair as well as a piece that was half dresser (with mirror) and half armoire; all of it was a pale wood that, while it wasn't the exact shade of cream as the headboard, was still a close enough color that it all could pass as a "matching" bedroom set.

"Even if I say no, this is going to magically turn up in my room isn't it?" she asked dryly.

Selene giggled. "Not 'magically,' no. If you like them, then let's get them -- Paulie'll even move them in for us."

"That's right! Because it's the manly thing to do for such a large order," the giant man laughed.

The man was...pretty obsessed with the word "manly" but his laugh was genuine; he and Selene had that same level of friendliness going on. Hopefully that friendliness would remain after he found out who she was and where (and when) she'd come from.

Anyway...back to the matter at hand. Apparently everything in the shop was something Paulie had made himself, and she had a feeling that everything she picked up now was as high quality as it looked and would probably last her several decades so at least Selene wasn't paying a premium for furniture that would fall apart in two years. "...fine, all right. But just these things and that's IT, got it?"

Selene snickered then held a hand out to Paulie; as Eli watched the man took a handful of gols (why the world had gone back to physical coin-based currency was beyond her) and dropped it into her palm.

"When exactly did you two have time to make a bet on her wearing me down?"

"As you were looking at the bed frames. When the smallish builder sets her mind to something very little will stop her," Paulie said. "And sometimes that means I lose a manly bet."

Selene pocketed the handful of coin, looking smug. "It was a righteous cause, I promise you. You deserve to actually have a comfortable living space."

"I'll have all this delivered by end of the afternoon," Paulie went on. "Did you have a floor plan in mind?"

"Nah, we can move it ourselves once you get it into the house," Selene replied. "Thank you Paulie." She gave the large man a hug and he returned it with enough force to lift the builder from her feet then waved at them as they headed out from the shop.

Outside the wind was blowing but the sky was clear; Eli zipped her jacket back up against the chill and looked to Selene. "Now what?"

"Well... Merlin is helping Petra check for any mention or pictures of the tool we need, so they're busy today. I wanted to wait to see if they found anything and I also have the factory building the last pieces of the lockable elevator car at the moment so even if I had all the measurements or assurances that I could go ahead and try casting that tool we need I'd still have to wait for that to finish. So...basically, we've got the day free aside from being home when Paulie delivers the furniture. Want to get a late breakfast?"

Eli opened her mouth to reply when a comically large set of scissors over a storefront across the way caught her attention. "-is that a salon?"

"Huh? - oh, yeah. Sanwa runs it - cuts, styles, and dyes hair. And beards, but that doesn't apply to you," Selene answered, grinning.

With a small smile she looked away from the scissors shining in the morning sun and back to the builder. "Don't suppose I could rely on your charity for one more thing, could I?"

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

The apricots Selene grew along the western fence line were juicy and tasted fantastic, and made a for a refreshing snack after an hour or so of moving furniture around.

Paulie had carried it all in and then she and Selene had pushed things into place; Selene was now off double checking on the final pieces of that locking car mechanism, and Eli was sitting on a stool in front of the fence with her back pressed to the wooden slats as she slowly munched on one of the last apricots the builder had gotten off the trees before winter had set in.

It seemed that along with new or hybrid fruits and vegetables a lot of plants she was familiar with had developed a rather long shelf-life on top of having shifted what seasons they typically grew in -- in this case, Selene's apricot trees kept producing right up to the first frost of late fall whereas the trees Eli had known in her time period had mostly stopped dropping fruit by late summer (and the apricots back then definitely hadn't lasted for a few months without showing signs of rot or withering). There was a single apple tree in the little "grove" along the fence and from what Selene had said the apple tree at least produced on a schedule that Eli remembered.

There were neat, orderly rows of planters next to the trees and while they were empty now there were little signs attached to them to identify what had been there: chili peppers, cotton (such a small amount though...surely that wasn't useful enough to grow so little of it?), green lettuce, pumpkins, wheat (again how was it useful to grow just a few tiny planters full, versus an entire field?)

It was a small comfort to actually see proof that not everything had changed so drastically but that was about all that was immediately familiar on the property.

In the planters among the normal plants Eli recognized were more of the weird ones: bamboo papaya, cornball (this one was at least...SORT of understandable? It seemed to be corn that just grew in an orb instead of a long cob), layered carrots (something that tasted like a carrot yet was shaped like a turnip and colored a stripey green and white that resembled neither vegetable), potato fruit (looked like an apple, tasted like a sweet potato), sisal... There were remnants of flowers that Selene had called rainbow flowers, and despite there being only withered stems and dried petals Eli could see the name was very fitting.

And over there, separate from the fruit trees, was a cluster of seven trees that were totally unrecognizable; Selene had called them nitra, zeolora, and crystella trees and Eli had never seen anything so bizarre as trees that grew...rock and crystal-looking "fruit" that hung heavy from the branches or leaked from the bark like a growth. Whatever or however the rocks and crystals grew the builder had said that the trees weren't ready to be harvested but had promised to let her help when it was time; what had gone wrong in nature to create trees that grew rocks?

No... What had gone wrong with the world that gave chemicals and biological weapons free reign to do all THIS?

'At least some of it's familiar...' she kept thinking to herself.

And she had to keep latching on to the familiar things, but there were precious few compared to everything that had changed... Plants were different, the trees were different (even the "normal" ones growing naturally around the shop - Eli didn't recognize those species at all), languages had disappeared, technology was gone...

And then there was all the people, and all the nations, that were gone too.

A twinge hit her in the gut and she leaned her head back against the fence behind her; the change in posture let the light breeze blow right down the front of her, through the little opening between the V-shape of the zipper on her jacket and the tiny gap at her collar bone where her sweater neck drooped slightly. The sudden stab of cold against her skin drew her attention away from the black hole of thought she was about to tumble down and she took a steadying breath.

After a few moments she did zip her jacket up to beneath her chin but she stayed leaning as she was; from the workshop and warehouse across the yard Eli could hear the noise of machines pounding and grinding away -- the locking elevator car was nearly done with only the front and back wall panels needing completion. The lock itself was fairly clever and Selene had seemed especially proud of herself as she showed it off to her earlier; it required both a physical key and a magnet of a certain strength to turn the tumbler and lift an inner locking bar that fit into the gap the door would ordinarily slide effortlessly into, and without the magnet to lift the bar you'd have to tear the entire door apart to get that bar up and out of the way (and by that point you wouldn't even need to as the door would be less a door and more a gaping hole).

Selene had selected a pile of magnets of various shapes and sizes but all roughly the same strength and the plan was only some of them would get a key and some would get a magnet (with a few exceptions - Gale would have both a key and magnet and so would at least one of the Civil Corps members). It essentially meant that it would take two people to get the car unlocked, which Eli considered a little overkill but was willing to let the mayor have the final call.

It did make her wonder what kind of war had just passed between the Alliance and this Duvos...Gale was dead set on absolutely nothing in those ruins falling into Duvos hands even though Eli knew there wasn't a chance in hell that anyone on the planet could replicate anything that could be found down there.

The thrumming and clanking of the workshop factory rather nicely covered up the sound of approaching hoofbeats coming from the direction of the city gates; Eli wasn't even aware Arlo had gotten that close until he'd said hello, and then she felt like an idiot at how she'd jumped out of her skin at the sudden greeting.

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

"Didn't mean to startle you, sorry."

Spacer nickered quietly - almost like the horse was also apologizing on his behalf.

Eli sat up from where she'd been leaning against the fence. "Not your fault, was just...thinking, I guess. I need to get back into the habit of listening for every little noise."

With a nod Arlo quietly gave her a once over; she was looking stronger every day, and now that she was out here with Selene she'd be right next to the Civil Corps usual jogging path. "-you're looking well. Does Dr. Xu have you exercising to build your muscles back up?"

"Not yet, but getting out to the facility and working inside it is doing a pretty good job of getting me back to what would be normal for anyone else. It's going to take a lot of work and protein to get back to what's 'normal' for me."

"When the Civil Corps does training exercises we usually start out with a run that begins at the gates and goes right by here - maybe you can start joining us, when we get back to it."

Eli smiled at him. "I'd like that. It'd be a good way to get the lay of the land too." She jerked a thumb over toward Selene's factory. "She's almost got the locking car done so whatever schedule you had before you ought to be getting back to soon."

Arlo gently nudged Spacer a little bit closer so he didn't feel like he was just a few levels shy of shouting at her to be heard over the noise of the factory going at full steam. "I'll be helping to haul it out and install it - how big is it?"

"Big enough to properly fit into the shaft, and with thick walls and door. The lock's actually pretty clever too."

"Good. We need clever to keep people out of there. Has Gale talked to you yet?"

He noted that she paused (it was barely perceptible - could've been mistaken for a flinch) before offering him another smile.

"Yeah, he has. This coming sunday the cat's out of the bag."

"I don't expect any trouble but Remington and I will be there regardless."

Eli nodded and an awkward silence fell; she took a halfhearted bite out of the mostly finished apricot in her hand but was chewing it slowly, like she didn't want to swallow it.

Sensing a change of subject was probably needed Arlo cleared his throat. "-your haircut is nice. Suits you."

"Thanks," came Eli's quick answer - the relief in her tone was palpable. She ran a hand through her hair; it was shaved almost to her skull on the sides and in the back, but the top had been left long enough to comb to the left. "It's how I wore it before. Fits better under helmets and there's less there for someone to grab a handful of if they manage to get close and I don't have said helmet on."

Ha...a haircut doubling as part of personal defense. That was something he hadn't given thought to before. "So you've met Sanwa then. What'd you think of him?"

"Chatty fellow. Selene mentioned I was new to the area and he started waxing poetic about Portia and how peaceful it is out here. I guess that's why you only need three Civil Corps members, eh?" she asked, chuckling quietly.

Arlo smiled faintly, shaking his head. "He does have a point. There's not a lot of interest in joining the Civil Corps because not a lot of people think we need a large group of us because Portia is so peaceful. Gale does have the budget set aside to hire on more people as needed or required, and Paulie helps out as he's able -- we did have a recent incident with a rogue knight that had people clamoring for more town security but that sentiment only lasted a couple of weeks."

"...a...rogue knight?" Eli repeated, raising an eyebrow. "Like, metal armor, sword, chivalry knight?"

"Sort of. He had some armor on and a sword but he was commanding an All Source AI and other AIs to attack Portia. We sustained some heavy damage but were able to fend him off with help from Django."

Eli let out a barked "ha!" before spinning on her stool to rest her arms on the fence and her chin on her arms. "I knew it. That man carries himself too confidently to just be a chef."

"He...what?"

"Django. I met him earlier when Selene and I got brunch. He walks and carries himself with a certain confidence and balance that I'd expect out of someone who's been trained in combat. Is the knight-theme of his diner just for show, or is he some sort of knight too?"

"He's retired. You could tell all that from watching how someone walks?"

Eli nodded. "You can. Might take a bit to notice with some more than others but with him it's a dead giveaway. If you ever want to learn what to look for I can teach you, no problem."

"I'll keep that in mind. Could be useful." Arlo glanced toward the door of the factory; he was tempted to get down and go check on progress but if Eli said Selene almost had it done he was willing to take her word for it. "I need to go on patrol. Would you like to ride along? Get the lay of the land, like you said earlier, and maybe we'll find somewhere you recognize."

Eli seemed to consider that a moment, then nodded; as she stood she whipped her arm and sent what was left of the apricot in hand whizzing toward the compost heap across the yard. Arlo tracked its arc and nodded approvingly as it landed on top and sent a small clump of rotting leaves and cornball husks sliding down the side of the heap.

"Nice throw."

"Thanks. I'll let Selene know where I'm headed and then we can head out."

She headed into the workshop and was back a few moments later; Arlo held a hand out and helped her mount up behind him before nudging Spacer into a trot.

Across from Selene's shop was Sophie's ranch; as they drew away from the workshop the hissing and pounding noises faded and the soft sounds of cattle and horses started to become apparent. The wheat fields had long since been harvested and as they ambled along Arlo could pick out tracks across the field were someone had been walking and another longer stretch that looked like someone had been sledding there. These spots and of course the areas where the cows and horses wandered had thawed out down to the ground underneath and stood out as dark, muddy spots against the remaining slushy snow that still clung to the ground (and was also a reminder of the mud they had to wade through daily to get to and from the facility as well).

"Were there any farms nears Dubei?"

"On the very outskirts, and also hundreds of community plots on the rooftops."

Arlo blinked. "On the rooftops? How?"

He heard a soft chuckle behind him. "Just a reinforced area able to handle extra weight of soil and water, good drainage, that sort of thing. Almost every roof had some sort of food garden or ornamental one - Dubei loved their greenery. Planters and trees on every street and corner, shelves to let vines come down the sides of buildings. Lots of potted plants inside buildings too. From far off it'd be easy to miss among all the lights, signs, and the glass reflecting everything but down in close, on the streets and in the buildings themselves, you'd see green everywhere."

"Sounds like a lot of work."

He felt movement against his back as she shifted, then "-not when you have AIs specifically handling the work."

"An AI for every task, sounds like."

From the corner of an eye he saw Eli nod. "They did the bulk of menial and hard labor, and of course were invaluable assistants in day to day goings on. Lots of data storage, for one."

"The historical records seemed to suggest AIs did everything for humans."

"NOT everything," Eli corrected, tone firm. "They couldn't do everything. And we couldn't trust them with everything anyway."

"Couldn't trust an AI? But I at least thought they were everywhere."

"They were. But would YOU want to trust every aspect of life to something that was one damaged power supply or corrupted file away from shutting down at the worst possible time?"

"I guess not."

They rode on in silence for a bit; the farm passed by and they were approaching the fields beyond Sophie's fences. He turned Spacer to the right and began to follow the fence line up toward where the air balloon platform was. In full view from here was the water wheel that fed an irrigation system for the tree farm, as well as two towering ruins that were little more than metal husks -- they hadn't held much of importance when they'd first officially been delved into about twenty five years ago and since then they'd been stripped of as much useful scrap as they could without causing them to collapse.

Very carefully he turned his head to catch a view of Eli behind him; she was studying the shape of the ruins in the distance and seemed to be comparing them to the water wheel. He stopped Spacer at the DeeDee stop and shifted to look back at her. "Anything seem familiar yet?"

"I'm...PRETTY sure that rounded building there was a planetarium -- a, uh, a place where you could learn about space and the solar system. That rounded top was usually a theater where you could sit and watch a presentation projected onto the ceiling that, because it was rounded and also huge, seemed to drop you right in the middle of the movie. It's easy to trick the brain into thinking you're moving if you're surrounded with the right sensory information so the whole point of the presentation was to make you feel like you were literally flying through space examining planets."

"Sounds like fun."

Eli laughed quietly behind him. "It was. And it's something I'm sure even your level of technology could replicate."

Arlo smiled a bit at that and guided Spacer off to the left, diverting toward the elevator that led up to the hot springs. As he scanned the area and the bluffs ahead he wasn't seeing anything out of the ordinary - there weren't even any footprints up this way. He checked that the elevator was still working as it should and then turned Spacer down the path back toward the road that would lead to the harbor.

Technically he was going well out of the way of his usual patrol route but with Eli with him he wanted to give her the best chance possible to recognize anything in the immediate area; that she'd sort of recognized a planetarium was, he assumed, a good thing, and maybe with a few more landmarks she'd be able to piece together a map of Dubei and know approximately where she was now, 300 years later.

The lighthouse was always in view from almost anywhere you cared to stand once you were south of Sophie's, along with the top of the cargo crane. There was a rumble in the distance suggesting the bus that wheeled around Portia was just past the trees up ahead (that was where the bus stop was, after all) and aside from the soft lapping of waves against the shore there wasn't much else going on out here. He could do a quick loop then circle back north toward Amber Island's bridge, then keep going...

"Was Dubei close to the shoreline?"

"It was built out over the shoreline," came Eli's answer. "Big pylons, gigantic harbor. Docks and walkways. I'm not sure where we are on Dubei's shoreline just yet though."

Arlo nodded and kept Spacer moving at a leisurely trot. Eli seemed a little interested in seeing the "haunted" cave on Amber Island so he made a mental note to make sure she got a chance (knowing Selene if she caught wind of it she'd drag the woman out there herself) and then kept northeast toward Bassanio Falls.

"Is that...desert, over the river?"

Arlo nodded. "It is. Eufala Desert. There's some ruins out that way and Dana's mining operation in Ingall's Mine. If we'd gone across that second bridge we just passed on the right we would've arrived in South Block - it's a tiny outpost right at the edge of the desert." As he glanced back to her he saw her frown, then shake her head. "I'm guessing there wasn't any desert near Dubei in your time."

"No, there wasn't."

She didn't elaborate further; the lift to the top of the falls was where, lately, Arlo had been stopping his patrol route -- now that they were having to keep an eye on the facility in the marsh whoever got the afternoon shift was usually the one who skirted the edge of the marsh and then circled around and down from WOW Industries...

But, the very top of the falls was fairly high up and you could see for miles around up there so that would be the optimal place to have a look from. When they were within walking distance of the lift he got down from Spacer's back and walked the horse the rest of the way; the DeeDee stop would double nicely as a hitching post and there he left Spacer tethered before offering Eli a hand down.

"Let's head up - you might spot something you know."

As soon as they were at the top of the lift Eli immediately spotted the towering ruins of WOW Industries. "Did you people give names to any of these ruins?"

"Not really. But the ones we were able to find mention of, or ones with surviving signs, we just call them by their names. That's WOW Industries."

Eli's eyes lit up. "THAT'S WOW? Well, that's half of WOW. All right...all right, so then..."

She jogged up the path ahead of him and he sped up to keep pace, and then almost collided with her when she abruptly stopped.

"What the heck are THOSE?" she asked then, pointing off to their left where there was a flurry of movement near the tops of the trees.

Arlo squinted off toward where she was pointing and caught the barest glimpse of fluttering wings. "Panbats."

"Pan...bats?" she repeated slowly, turning to look at him in confusion.

"Panbats. They're pests that feed on trees - we had an infestation of them at the tree farm a few years ago. Usually they're pretty harmless but if they're hungry or you scare one they might attack."

Eli continued to stare at him for a few breaths more, then turned on her heel to head up the path further before turning to the left to creep up to the base of a tree; at the base she knelt down, putting the tree partially between herself and the panbats that were flapping around. Arlo came up behind her, counting seven of the beasts; he was more interested in watching how Eli watched them -- he wouldn't say she was sizing them up but she was eying them with far more than a passing curiosity. As they hunched there, observing, Arlo could see one large panbat alight on a bough and pull a shriveled apple free from a dry branch before beginning to suck at it.

"...do you have pandas, and bats, in this world?" Eli asked quietly.

"Bats, yes. Not sure what a panda is."

"Pandas - panda bears. Think...THESE things, but no wings, and about half the size of your horse."

Arlo shook his head. "We don't have those around here, at least. Couldn't say for the rest of the world though."

Eli let out a sigh that trailed off into a faint raspberry noise before she stood and turned back to the WOW Industries building. "Well... The good news is I know WOW Industries, and I know where it was. We're in the southeastern corner of Dubei and now I can also confirm that the shoreline is NOT where it should be, and that none of these bluffs or waterfalls here are where they're supposed to be. It's like...it's like parts of the land got shifted, or sheared off."

He didn't know what to say to that and instead followed silently as she walked up to the building. She stared up at the building and at the door, then circled around the ruin's foundation to the left; there was a flat metal platform here they'd assumed was some kind of loading dock that served double duty as a canopy that covered three enormous pipes coming out of the building. Not far from the edge of the platform was an enormous, wide stone retaining wall that overlooked the eastern border of the Collapsed Wasteland. There was another wall and a line of trees that blocked the majority of the view of the Wasteland from the top of this particular wall - it was hardly more than a crater with a few intact buildings clinging to the land so there wasn't much to see regardless.

Despite the obstructed view Eli was still standing atop the wall and, while he couldn't be sure, it sort of looked like she was measuring distances with her hands - using her fingertips lined up with the landscape and tops of the ruins.

He was content to wait and let her do whatever she needed; down below them he could just make out slurpees wandering about -- he wondered what she'd think of THOSE.

"Oh Fate...why is THIS the way the story goes..."

He just barely heard her speak. "-huh?"

"Nothing. Just having a crisis of faith. Or, in my case, a crisis of Fate."

"Ah."

She ran her hand through her hair again, and paced back and forth a few steps in each direction. "--what religions even exist now?"

"We have the Church of the Light. There might be others but I'm not sure - I've never been very far from Portia." He waited a moment, watching her pace. "What religions existed back then?"

"Hundreds of thousands. Mine specifically was the Foundational Three."

Arlo shook his head. "I've never heard of that one. The Research Center might have, but not me."

"Great..." she sighed. "Well. The Foundational Three are..." She paused, kicking away snow and ice from the stone under her before dropping down to sit. "Fate. Balance. And Judgement. Fate is the Great Curator, and ensures that every soul born into the world has a story to tell and, when those lives are over, makes sure their stories are made a part of the cosmos. Balance is the Silent Observer - Balance makes sure your life isn't too hard or too easy because too hard means you give up and too easy means you don't grow. And Judgement is the Arbiter, the one who carries out decisions made by Balance. Judgement will remove or place obstacles as needed, and punish or reward those as needed -- those who make it their purpose to make other lives miserable will find themselves on the receiving end of Judgement's wrath, and that's not somewhere you want to be. And on the other end of the spectrum are those who are given a helping hand to overcome their troubles if it proves to be more than they can bear."

She trailed off, staring out at the treetops below them. Arlo likewise cleared off a spot to sit and dropped down next to her. "It sounds like a nice religion."

Eli nodded. "Compared to most I'd say it definitely is. Certainly more kind than a lot I'd heard of back then. A lot of religions threatened doom and hellfire and damnation, or the destruction of the soul, or losing the ability to be reborn into another life - always more threats of the bad things versus promises of the good things. The Foundational Three always made the most sense to me though."

"Why's that?" He asked almost without thinking, then quickly added "you don't need to answer that if it's too personal."

She waved a hand dismissively. "Nah, it's fine. In fact, the Three actually encourage you to share information and stories. That's part of why it made sense to me...there's things that should be shared, and remembered. And there's proof all around you that the stories told keep echoing - there's a reason people believe in ghosts. Those are just stories that weren't ready to end."

"I'm not sure I follow."

At that Eli laughed quietly, pulling up a knee to rest her chin on it as she wrapped her hands around her leg. "So, you have ghost stories here, right? I'd assume so being as you have a 'haunted' cave attraction." When he nodded she continued. "A ghost is a soul. A story. And sometimes, when someone dies, instead of their story joining the infinite collection the story itself hangs around. Sometimes it's there because the soul feels their story was cut short and they're upset. Sometimes it remains because the soul feels too strong of a connection to someone else's story, and they can't leave yet because their story is still being written, just on someone else's pages. That's how you end up with guardian spirits or the angry, hateful ghosts that appear in scary stories -- it's just someone's life, someone's story, that wasn't ready to close the cover yet. Eventually though the cover closes, the story returns to the shelves, and the details of that story are written in the fabric of existence where anyone, at any time, may catch a whisper of it even if they never knew that person."

She went quiet after that and Arlo mulled over everything she'd just said; it was a neat and tidy way to think of the universe, for sure. There was even a small bit of comfort in it, thinking that both people he knew and also those he'd never known or would ever know would somehow know about him when he was gone...granted, that thought was terrifying too - a bunch of strangers hearing only bits and pieces of things he'd done or the type of person he'd been. Anyone could make any sort of story out of scraps and believe themselves right.

"What happens when you accomplish whatever Fate said your story was supposed to be about?" he asked into the silence.

Eli shrugged. "How would you know you'd done that?"

"...no idea."

"And no one else would know either. Only Fate would. And even stories that seem complete can keep going. The only thing you can know for sure is you have a starting point in your story, and somewhere there's an ending point, but there's an infinite number of ways to get there." She trailed off again, then inhaled deeply and looked over to him. "Though I definitely understand the NEED to know why your story is going where its going. What am I supposed to accomplish?" With a flick of her fingers she gestured to the Wasteland ahead of them. "How in the world does THIS fit into any reasonable story Fate would want to tell?"

He didn't have an answer for that so he just stayed quiet; the sun was setting and the breeze was getting a bit more chilly and out of habit he rubbed his hands together.

The movement attracted her attention. "We can head back. I've seen enough to have at least some idea of where I am. It's just...staggering that there's so little left."

He nodded and stood, and offered her a hand up; they walked back to Spacer in silence and began to make their way back to Portia.

About halfway there he heard her sigh again - it was more of a groan though. "What's wrong?"

"I just realized something. Something that I was doing."

"What's that?"

"I want to know what happened here, and what that facility actually is and why I was down inside it. And I keep catching myself thinking of those three things - what happened, what it is, why I was there - as all separate pieces of the puzzle, when I SHOULD be thinking of it as one big knot to unravel. Seeing WOW, and spotting the sewer network got me to thinking about what's gone, what should be where, and how the landscape changed and for a moment it was like THAT was the only problem. And I know I'm doing it because, to be blunt, I'm terrified to actually get the answer..."

"I'm sorry," was all he could think to say.

The ride back to Portia was quiet after that.

#Lost in Time #lit #Lost in Time - ch 7 #Arlo #Builder #Paulie #My Time at Portia

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sixsclassic · 5 years ago

Text

Refuge- Chapter 1

Cathy finds herself in a new place, finding refuge in her new foster siblings. WC: 2072

Home. The place where one lives permanently, especially as a member of a family or household. It’s quite ironic how those words can have such little

meaning to so many. Especially Catherine Parr, well Cathy, Catherine was her grandmother’s name and she grew up with the nickname so that her eldery grandmother wouldn’t get confused. Well it was eight years of that and she’s grown so used to it, her friends at school always referred to her as Cathy through grade school. Her life was okay as far as she was concerned, it was perfect. She had a loving mom and dad, and loved being an only child as they put so much focus into her life. Up until Catherine’s father passed away when she was nine, it was horrible. She’d lost her grandmother the year before, her favorite person passing away in her sleep suddenly and she couldn’t handle that her father was gone too. He’d had a heart attack at work and couldn’t be saved, no one saw it coming, it’d been the first time ever he’d been seriously ill.

Then she watched as her mother slowly spilled away from her for ten months, at first it was the drinking and Cathy could handle clearing the empty beer bottles from the living room, but then her mother wasn’t buying groceries or going to work and her co workers called in a welfare check on the family. And Cathy was quickly removed from the home as her mother was off to rehab, but it wasn’t smooth sailing from there. It was supposed to be only two months, but that two months slowly turned to five years as every time her mother was released, she went right back to drinking.

So Cathy celebrated five birthdays alone in foster homes with people who could care less other than getting a check from the state, and she was slowly becoming too old for people so her social work thought it was time for her to be placed in a group home. Though Cathy was convinced she’d never end up one, hearing horror stories from her older foster siblings that you’re more likely to be abused or assaulted, but she found out that she was going to be placed in a group home with only girls. But that didn’t help her feelings as she lugged her duffle bag behind her, trailing behind her social worker as they headed up the steps of the porch.

To be fair it was a nice home, two stories with a wrap around porch, it seemed… stable as far as Cathy could see. Something she hadn’t had in a long time as a lady probably in her forties or fifties opened the screen door, a pleasant smile on her face. “Good morning to you both, come on inside.” She greeted them and Cathy noted the warmth in her voice, something she hadn’t heard in a long time as Melissa, her social worker , stepped into the home, first entering a foyer. A set of stairs descended to the second floor as Cathy craned her neck to meet eyes with a young girl, probably a year or two younger than Cathy.

The girl had her lips in a scowl with her arms crossed as if telling Cathy she was invading her space, her long brown hair highlighted with bits of bright pink hair dye. Cathy didn’t know what to think as she maintained eye contact with the girl for a moment as the lady spoke. “I’m Helen, and up there is Kat. You’ll be meeting some of the other girls, but they'll all be returning from school in about ten minutes.” Helen explained as Cathy pondered that for a moment, why wasn’t Kat in school with the rest of the girls in the home.

She didn’t question it as Helen led them towards the kitchen and she offered them each a cup of tea as Melissa spoke up, stating she’d have to get going since she had a hearing to get to in an hour. She wished Cathy luck and told her to call her if she needed anything and then her one life line was gone. Cathy did take Helen up on the tea as she sat at one of the bar stools in the fairly sized kitchen as Helen stood across from her. “Catherine correct?” Helen asks as she places a mug of tea in front of Cathy.

“Yes, um is it okay if I go by Cathy?” Cathy asked timidly.

“Of course, so Cathy tell me, how old are you?” Helen smiles as Cathy thought she must at least know how she is but didn’t want to be snippy or make a comment that could land her in trouble on the first day. “Fifteen.” Cathy replies as she took a sip from her tea, while Helen nodded her head slightly.

“Perfect, you’ll be sharing a room with Maggie. She's very excited to meet you, she’s only a year older than you and I think you'll get along.” Helen explains and it was Cathy’s turn to nod her head in understanding as the screen door creaked open and a flood of voices entered the home. “Helen we’re home!” a voice bloomed over the others and Helen just chuckled as she poked her head out to the hall.

“In here Catalina, I’d like you all to come meet someone.” Helen says and Cathy’s heart dropped to her stomach, she had no idea how many girls she would be meeting, but they were all about to be her housemates after all. First to enter the kitchen was a tall tan girl, her hair tied back in a bun, she seemed a lot more welcoming Kat did honestly. “Hey, you must be our new fibling! I’m Catalina.” the girl spoke and Cathy smiled at her timidly.

“I’m Cathy.” Cathy replied, her voice cracking and she felt completely ridiculous to be embarrassing herself in front of the girls. “Nice name, it’s a pleasure to meet you.” Catalina added as she headed further into the kitchen, stopping at the fridge as another girl trailed behind her, passing Cathy without saying a word, to be fair Cathy wasn’t sure if she had noticed her. The girl was younger than Cathy, probably around the same age as Kat if she was going to guess. She was as tan as Catalina but had blue tipped hair. Catalina shut the fridge and looked down at the girl, “Maria it’s impolite to not greet new filbings.”

The young girl turned and jumped in surprise as she saw Cathy. “Oh goodness, I’m sorry I didn’t see you! My name is Maria! What’s yours? How old are you? Do you like fish?” Apparently she was quite the talkative one too as Cathy chuckled, feeling even more relieved.

“I’m Cathy. I’m fifteen and fish are cool.” Cathy replies.

“Perfect, so Bessie and I have a fish in our room, his name is Gilbert, you’ll need to come and meet him.” Maria explains which made Cathy giggle as another girl bolted her way into the kitchen.

“You!” she exclaims as she spotted Cathy and pointed to her.

“Me?” Cathy asks, pointing to herself.

“Maggie please use your words.” Helen chuckles as the tall brunette girl facing Cathy with a look of pure excitement.

“You’re my roomie!” Maggie finally spoke as Cathy smiled, relieved to find that she was going to be sharing a room with the girl.

“Could you show Cathy the room?” Helen asks, “And find Anna and Bessie.” Maggie waved Cathy over to her room and Cathy lifted her bag over her shoulder as Maggie looked back at Helen before stating, “Oh yeah, Anna is setting fireworks off in the driveway and Bessie is holding the matches.”

“Not again.” Helen sighs as she leaves the kitchen and heads out the front door to find Anna and Bessie, Cathy assumed as Maggie let Cathy up the stairs. Kat was no longer staring at her from the top of the stairs as they passed a number of doors as Maggie spoke, “So that’s Maria and Bessie’s room, then next door is Anne and Catalina, that’s a bathroom, then it’s mine and your’s room, Jane’s room is next to the other bathroom and the last door on the right is Anna and Kat’s room.”

Cathy nodded her head as they passed the rooms and Maggie opened the door to their joint room, she was already noting how open the room felt. The curtains were open to the two windows in the room, letting in lots of sunlight as the walls were painted a light blue, keeping the room bright. Cathy liked the look of the room already since it seemed homey, something she hadn’t felt in a long time. The one bed had creme colored sheets on it, with some pillows surrounding the headboard. Photos were set up on the wall behind it with a set of books on a nightstand.

The other bed had simple greenish sheets covering it with a few pillows as well, Cathy assumed that was her side since it was bare and the other side seemed lived in. “That’s your bed and the dresser beside it, is yours.” Maggie says as Cathy thanked her as she set her bag on the bed and began to unpack as Maggie perched herself on her own bed. There was a comfortable silence over the room for a few minutes before Cathy spoke up and asked, “So tell me about the other girls, I met Catalina and Maria, but not everyone else.”

“Well let’s see there’s Bessie, she’s the baby of the family-” Maggie started as Cathy cut her off.

“Family?” She questioned as she glanced over at Maggie who nodded in reply.

“Helen treats us all like we’re her daughter, whatever we want or need, she’ll have it here for us.” Maggie replies as she continues to explain everyone, “Then there’s Anna, she’s hilarious, and she loves a good prank or too. Jane’s the only one with her own room right now, which is probably a good thing.”

“What do you mean? Sorry I don’t mean to keep interrupting.” Cathy says, starting to feel bad for cutting off Maggie while she spoke.

“She’s not exactly the nicest, like she’ll snap at you for looking at her. But she does have her nice days, just don’t catch her on the bad ones. Then there’s Kat, she’s okay for the most part, she got in trouble at school last week and got suspended for a week, I still don’t know what she did. Then there’s Anne, she's alright, she’s been here almost a year but she’s never talked.”

“What about you, how long have you been here?” Cathy asks as she sits on her own bed, looking over at Maggie. “It’ll be two years this week, I’m grateful to have something as stable as this.” Maggie responds, and her answer shocked Cathy a bit, the longest she’d been in a home was three months, she was always bouncing around. It made her a bit more relieved to know that Maggie had been there for a long period of time, that it was something stable. That it was somewhere where she could breathe and not have to worry about having to leave again.

Maggie leaned her ear up, as Helen called up for her to help prepare dinner, which made the older girl smile slightly. “Cooking is one of my favorite things to do so I always help with it. You can come with you’d like Helen and I can always use an extra set of hands.” Maggie says as she stands up and looks over at Cathy.

“I’d love to.” Cathy nods which caused Maggie to smile once again.

“Great.” Maggie replies as she heads towards the door as a question finds its way into Cathy’s mind and she figured it was a good time to ask Maggie. “Before we go downstairs, what’s a fibling?” Cathy asks as Maggie looks back at her.

“Oh it’s a little nickname Catalina has for all of us, since we all live together and are basically are a family, we’re fiblings, a combo of foster and siblings.” Maggie explains and the term brought a smile to Cathy’s face, maybe she shouldn’t been so happy with being an only child now that she has eight fiblings to call her own.

Also thank you to @musical-stan-first-human-later for listening to my rambles about this story!

#six fanfiction #six fanfic #six the musical fanfic #six the musical fanfiction #liw #ladies in waiting #anna of cleves #catherine of aragon #anne boelyn #katherine howard #Catherine Parr #joan on the keys #bessie on the bass #maria on the drums #maggie on the guitar

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percabeth4life · 4 years ago

Text

The Crossroads of Destiny

First Chapter || Previous Chapter || Next Chapter || AO3

I moved into my dorm.

Setting it up was fun.

My roommate hasn’t arrived yet, so I picked the side by the window and started setting up.

I put my bedding on the bed (blue of course), my clothes in the dresser (his school ones and his nice clothes from Triton), my rainbow stone and star globe on the table by the bed, my books on the shelf, I put the candy my mom gave me in the drawer, put my collection of stuff from the sea (assorted gifts from my mer friends and some cool shells and coral pieces I like) on the shelves, and finally set up the fish tank for the human fish I’m still trying to turn back human.

The fishes name is Carl, which is really boring but…

I also put my copies of Avatar on the shelf, and small amount of memorabilia around the room. I’ve heard rumors of a sequel, how fun!

I frowned, studying my side of the room. I don’t think I’m missing anything…

Other than Triton and my mer friends…

Ugh, I hate boarding school already.

I sulked but moved to shove my notebooks on the shelf too.

Classes don’t start for a few days, so I suppose I could spend the next few days looking around the campus. Hopefully this year there wouldn’t be any… incidents.

I grabbed my ocarina and my music book and settled on the bed to practice.

I really like the ocarina, it makes such nice tunes, and it’s made from a really dense coral, it’s brilliant.

I began the warm up tunes, carefully running through the notes, furrowing my brow in concentration.

I’m going to get amazing at this. Triton said that if I get good enough at it by the winter solstice then he’d give me the next book on the Siren’s Song! Then I’ll get to practice actually using the Siren’s Song, using the ocarina of course. Triton said I wasn’t to try it with just my voice until Triton cleared him.

That’s fine though, I’m was still excited.

I started playing one of the simple tunes to start.

Carefully placing my fingers and following my memory of practicing this song until it was perfect.

It was one of the most basic, but I still like it. It’s soothing to practice.

I finished that song and turned to the next one.

I’ve only mastered the first two, I can do those two without looking at the instructions at this point. I’m also pretty good at the third one and alright at the fourth. I can play through the fifth song if I really focus hard.

I haven’t gotten around to trying the sixth yet.

I reached the fourth song in my play throughs. I started playing it for the second time to fix a note I keep messing up but paused when the door opened.

I looked up to see a boy with pasty skin, curly red/brown hair, and a rainbow tie-dye shirt.

“Uh, hi?”

I nodded in greeting, “Hi, are you my roommate?”

“Yeah! Or well,” the boy glanced at the paper in his hands, “You are… Percy, right? Hang on let me check the room number again, this is- Yeah okay, I think you’re my roommate!”

I offered a smile, following the lessons Triton drilled into me, “I’m Percy Jackson, glad to be roommates. What’s your name?”

“I’m Grover, nice to meet you!”

OO OO OO OO OO OO OO OO

Grover’s side of the room was nice, he had some books, a few plants, his school supplies of course. It didn’t have the sparklines of my side, what with my Rainbow Stone and Starglobe, but it was nice.

I noticed Grover giving Carl some odd looks when Carl commented on how boring Grover’s side was, or how he needed better clothes, or how he was hungry ‘Percy feed me’.

I of course fed him, I’d hate to be locked up like Carl. Least I can do is make it comfortable.

Grover blinked slowly and stared more confused.

It was almost like he could hear Carl.

…

Please say I’m not rooming with another mythological being that wants me dead.

…

Nope, not dealing with that today.

I grabbed my ocarina and music book and told Grover I was going outside to play.

OO OO OO OO OO OO OO OO

Grover wasn’t bad, he went with me to explore the campus despite the limp he had.

I made sure to keep my walking slow, I don’t want to strain Grover. La’akea had a permanently injured tail so had to use currents to help her move and while she’s pretty quick now, Grover couldn’t do the same with land.

We found where all our classes would be first, then found the nearby bathrooms and water fountains. Then we went to find the library, we already knew where the cafeteria was thanks to needing food.

We only ended up exploring the inside today (mainly because I got distracted in the mythology section of the library, it had a few books in ancient Greek, which, while not as easy as Halmaheran language, is still easier than English).

The next day we explored the grounds. I like the fountains I could see around the grounds, they’re pretty, and the water sparkles in the light.

We met a few other students, I did his best to smile and act like Triton taught me, it seemed to work better on these kids than the ones from his other schools.

But befriending Grover already seemed to be getting negative views.

I resisted the urge to glare at the student I heard mutter something insulting about Grover. Did they have no manners for disabilities? Triton would kick their butts if he heard it. But Triton would also lecture me if I lost my temper on the first day.

“Ha, look at the cripple, I don’t know why schools let those people in, don’t they want to keep appearances up? Having a loser like that here just ruins the schools rep.”

I smiled sweetly at the boy, “Well you would know if someone should be kicked out for appearances, wouldn’t you?” I gave the boy a brief look over, making my meaning as clear as possible, then turned and walked away.

I walked away with my head held high, Grover following me.

“You didn’t have to do that. But thanks man.”

I huffed, “he was rude, you didn’t deserve that. Just cause you have a disability doesn’t mean he gets free range to insult you!”

Grover grinned, “thanks again”

OO OO OO OO OO OO OO OO

Classes started again, they were boring.

I covered the math with Triton, and as long as I wrote in Halmaheran it was easy. Of course, then I have to go back and translate to dumb Arabic numerals but…

Geography was as annoying as ever, land geography was so boring!

I do enjoy Latin, I’m not bad at it I don’t think. We’ve only just started the basics of it, learning some word meanings and not yet at conjugating, but I don’t think I’ll struggle too much if it stays this easy.

Honestly my biggest trouble will probably be grammar in that class.

And of course, in English class.

I hate English class.

They also have art which I enjoy. I would prefer music, so I can practice my ocinara, but it is fun to make things. I figure I can give what I make to Triton or mom.

Science is dumb though.

OO OO OO OO OO OO OO OO

Carl is seventy percent sure that Grover can understand him, so I have to be careful not to reveal I can also understand my fish.

OO OO OO OO OO OO OO OO

So, there are clubs, Grover was nervous to sign up for them, and I’ve never signed up for a club before.

But Triton would probably encourage it, so I decided to look through the clubs to see.

I shouldn’t do swimming, if Grover is a Mythological being than that would give me away real quick.

I decided that model UN should be good, it will let me practice my “princely” stuff, since I won’t have Triton bugging me about it.

And… ooh, the music club. That would give me more opportunities to practice my ocarina!

I couldn’t help but hum happily, I can practice my ocarina, and I can do some fancy talking (that will make Triton happy probably) so it works out!

“What are you going to do Grover?”

“Uh, I’m not sure, what about you?”

I grinned, “Model UN and music club!”

“Oh well, those sound good, maybe I’ll join them too?”

“Do you know an instrument? Or are you going to learn one in the club?”

“Er… I play the reedpipes?”

“Oh cool!” I bounced on my toes, “I’ve never played the reedpipes before, do they sound nice? Are they hard to play? What songs do you know?”

“Uh- they’re nice, I’m not that good yet, they’re kinda hard to play, and I know a few calming songs.”

“That’s cool, let’s go sign up!”

I planted myself beside Grover and tried to copy Triton’s ‘I will end you’ smile that he used at the events, pointing the smile at the jerk that tried to cut Grover in line.

“Whatever,” The guy grumbled, stomping back and kicking Grover’s crutch on the way.

I fought really hard to keep my smile in place as I helped Grover steady himself.

“I’m fine,” Grover muttered.

“He’s a jerk,” I grumbled back.

OO OO OO OO OO OO OO OO

We went to the first club meeting of Model UN. It went fine, they just introduced what we’d be doing in the club this year.

It was kinda boring.

The first meeting of music was more fun though.

First everyone picked their instrument, then the teacher had all of us that already knew how to play our instrument demonstrate some.

I played the first song I know on the ocarina, I have it memorized so I looked good when I did it.

Grover played the reedpipes, I did my best not to show that my ears hurt.

Maybe Grover could use a little more practice… just a little…

OO OO OO OO OO OO OO OO

The Latin teacher disappeared?

Like, he was there one day, then a new teacher in a wheelchair appeared.

My eyes narrowed on the wheelchair.

It gives me the same feeling that some of Triton’s gifts give me. That’s no ordinary wheelchair.

OO OO OO OO OO OO OO OO

I pulled my Rainbow Stone out when Grover was away for a bit.

I tossed in a drachma resisting the urge to bounce, “Oh Iris, goddess of the rainbow, please accept my offering and show me Triton, where ever he is.”

I grinned when Triton appeared.

I’ve called Triton a few times before and I recognized the backdrop as Triton’s room.

“Percy.”

“Triton! How are you?”

We talked for a while, just trading stories.

I told him about model UN and music club, Triton was pleased.

Triton told me about some of his duties, and how annoying the fish were now that I’m not there anymore. Apparently, they’ve grown fond of me.

I finally started explaining my suspicions.

I explained Grover being able to understand Carl and explained the teacher with the wheelchair that was definitely enchanted.

Triton nodded, his gaze serious.

“It doesn’t sound like a harmful being but keep an eye out. Update me when you can but be careful, if I’m right this Grover is likely empathic, and you should keep your emotions in check around him.

I nodded, what mythological being was empathic?

Oh well, Triton would tell me if it was important.

OO OO OO OO OO OO OO OO

Welp, apparently there was a robbery right near the school. The person had a gun, so all the students were locked in the classrooms.

I was in Latin when the announcement came. Mr. Brunner had all of us students put the desks in front of the door, then wedged some of his old shields in the way too.

I don’t know if they’ll help at all, but I guess it’s better than nothing.

Mr. Brunner quietly told us stories about the rise of Rome until the announcement came that it was safe to leave again.

That was scary, hopefully nothing else like that happens again.

I really want this year to be calmer.

OO OO OO OO OO OO OO OO

Apparently, a computer in the library overheated, and promptly blew up.

I didn’t know that was possible but now we’re were standing outside in the rain waiting for the fire department to clear everything.

Or everyone else was, I was trying one of Katara’s tricks, the rain was sliding away just above me!

This year was going great so far, hopefully it was just these things and nothing else…

I purposefully ignored Nancy mumbling that it’s a shame Grover made it out.

I also ignored the way that the rain around her became just a little colder, just a little harder, just a little more like sleet than rain.

That was just a coincidence, I certainly didn’t do that, Triton wouldn’t have been happy.

OO OO OO OO OO OO OO OO

Music club was going great! I’ve now mastered the first six songs in my book and I’m practicing three more.

It’s so much fun!

The first ten were fairly short, after those it would start taking a lot longer to learn them.

But for now, I’m enjoying the simple songs.

Grover was slowly improving some too so that was good. I know that some students have been mocking his reedpipes behind his back, I usually have a snappy comeback if they do it in front of me, but it’s still hard on Grover.

OO OO OO OO OO OO OO OO

Model UN is going great, I get to watch Grover argue for environmental reforms. It’s delightful.

This club seems a whole lot more interesting now.

I ended up having to go against Grover, so I promptly channeled all the knowledge I have about the pollution in the ocean and rivers and started arguing for it (I don’t enjoy going against Grover, especially on this subject).

Of course, the students get switched around, and I’m easily able to reverse my argument, it’s the side I actually stand for anyways. I’ve been cleaning the rivers in Manhattan for a while, I know loads about the negative effects of pollution, at least in water environments.

Grover does not like arguing for pollution, that was nearly as fun to watch as him tearing others apart in the against pollution argument.

OO OO OO OO OO OO OO OO

I opened my eyes.

I was deep in the ocean, a faint red glow from underwater magma spots.

I stared, I’ve of course read about them in the books Triton has given me, but I’ve never seen them before. They weren’t in the territory that Triton would bring me too.

I turned around and gasped when I saw the palace in front of me.

It’s definitely not Poseidon’s palace.

A mermaid swam towards me, glowing in the same way that Triton did, her tail more flowy than any I’ve seen before and glittering blue and silver.

She opened her mouth, her head tilted.

I woke up.

OO OO OO OO OO OO OO OO

Apparently, a student claimed they saw a guy that matched the description of a criminal. So once again the school was emptied so the police could search the grounds.

On the bright side we all got a field trip to the aquarium.

On the down side we all got a field trip to the aquarium I got expelled from before.

Hopefully that guide didn’t work there anymore.

Grover and I ended up separate from the rest of the group, it was fun, they looked at this fish, I complimented their scales, and their swimming, and their coral. It was nice to talk to fish again.

Grover laughed at me for talking to the fish, but it was friendly.

I’ve never had a human friend before.

I supposed I still haven’t, but at least now I have a land-dwelling friend.

…

Hopefully.

OO OO OO OO OO OO OO OO

I’m doing alright in math, even though the teacher sucks.

English was going to end me though.

I have to write the papers in Halmaheran first, then in English, and of course I can’t read the stupid books because they’re in English.

I wish I had audio books for the class, but noooooo.

I’m pretty sure it’s illegal for them to not help me with my disabilities. But I don’t know much about land laws.

I should probably fix that.

OO OO OO OO OO OO OO OO

Latin is fun, even if I’m suspicious of the teacher, and I was making sure to tell Triton what I notice.

We’re were having a test today though. I can do the words, I’m great at remembering the meaning of the words, but the grammar was killing me.

I lost half my points on doing the grammar wrong.

It’s annoying.

OO OO OO OO OO OO OO OO

I moved towards the palace this time, it’s not like Poseidon’s palace, from what I’d seen from a distance (a large distance).

This one is dark, carved out of the side of the trench that I’ve now realized I’m in.

But it’s still lit up.

Lantern fish swim all over, some coming near me with their sharp teeth.

I’ve never been afraid of the beings of the sea though, so I didn’t flinch back. I made sure to complement their lights, I’m not sure they could hear me.

There’s also a sea serpent this time, it’s eye focused on me.

It’s massive, easily able to circle Poseidon’s palace at least three times over.

I decided respect was for the best, and quickly did the proper twist of my hand, even if I have legs and not my tails like I would prefer, this would still show the respect that the great serpent deserves.

I made it to the entrance and, after hesitating, pushed in.

I woke up.

OO OO OO OO OO OO OO OO

I just cannot catch a break.

Some student brought a cursed item to school.

I can feel it.

Everyone else is just convinced the school was haunted.

Carl thinks it’s funny. He would.

Grover is jumping at shadows and even more nervous than usual. I’m not worried though.

I’ll know when the cursed item gets close enough, I’m good at sensing that.

OO OO OO OO OO OO OO OO

It took three weeks, but I’ve finally found the cursed item.

A stupid book.

Everyone was baffled that the ghost vanished.

I just sighed and focused on rereading the chapter in one of the books Triton gave me on Purification.

It took me a week to do it, but at last the book is curse free.

I know have to sneak it back to the owner, ugh.

OO OO OO OO OO OO OO OO

I was standing at the edge of a deep pit. I can’t even begin to see the bottom.

A burning sensation edged my senses.

“How interesting, so faint yet there. It’s slowly getting clearer…”

I frowned, “Hello?”

A low chuckle filled the area, “Hello little Half-Blood.”

“Who are you?” I called, leaning over the edge.

“You may wish to step back little Half-Blood. A fall would be dangerous.”

“You didn’t say who you were.” I replied, but I did step back.

The being chuckled again, “I am-“

I woke up.

OO OO OO OO OO OO OO OO

I’m excited, field day is here!

I’m signed up for the tug-of-war, the water sponge, and one of the running events.

It’s fun, I won the water sponge by a landslide, and my team came in second for the tug-of-war. I did alright at the running, I’m certainly not the fastest, but I have decent stamina from all the time I’ve spent swimming and running from the river to my apartment.

I didn’t do the worst, so I suppose that’s good.

Field day is actually a lot of fun, even if Grover can’t participate.

It would’ve been perfect if the field hadn’t caught fire afterwards though.

I have no idea how that happened.

OO OO OO OO OO OO OO OO

I hummed as I read through one of the more advanced books on Purification magic, this chapter talked about how to infuse items with purifying energy to keep a room clean.

It was really interesting, when Grover was gone I’d try it out.

Carl’s happy about it too, he wants a stone infused with purifying energy in his tank.

I was beginning to wonder if Carl even wants to be turned back human again, Carl seems to like being a fish.

It’s weird.

OO OO OO OO OO OO OO OO

Grover and I are working on our speech for Model UN, we’re were arguing for environmental reform.

Shocking.

I’m pretty confident in our ability to do this. Grover is really well informed on land pollution, and I have first-hand experience with sea pollution.

I even managed to get Triton to tell me about dealing with oil spills and stuff to help!

We’re gonna kill it.

OO OO OO OO OO OO OO OO

I glared at the palace in front of me.

Am I gonna wake up the moment I get close again?

I just want to see what’s inside.

It’s strange though, only some of the fish and beings around seem to actually see me.

I sighed and started moving towards the palace again.

This time I got inside! I looked around in awe.

“Well, it appears I have an uninvited guest.”

I turned to see a merman with almost glowing blue hair, and sharp sea green eyes. His tail a deep green with flowy glowing blue on it.

It kinda reminds me of my tail, but his was greener and has specks of blue in the scales too. And it’s not quite as flowy.

The Merman studied me in turn, “And what is your name little Half-Blood?”

“I’m Percy-“

I woke up.

OO OO OO OO OO OO OO OO

I’m getting really annoyed this year.

Other years normally have one big disaster that end in my expulsion, this year though, it seems as if the universe just wants to make me suffer slowly.

The Principal had a heart attack.

And I was in the room with him when it happened.

Only I was in the room when it happened.

I did try to help with healing water, but I’m not good enough at that to heal others like Katara. It just hasn’t been a focus of mine with all my work on Purification.

Plus, I don’t have anyone to practice on.

I got a teacher but I still had to explain the symptoms to the emergency responders.

Next thing you know the schools gonna have a pandemic, honestly.

OO OO OO OO OO OO OO OO

So, the school had a Pandemic.

A flu pandemic to be precise.

Nearly everyone’s gotten sick at this point.

Grover, Mr. Brunner, me, and a handful of other students are the only ones holding strong.

On the bright side it meant we don’t have to attend class for a few days while the teachers recover.

On the downside everyone has makeup work, and also, I’m was stuck inside with Grover.

Now don’t get me wrong, Grover is a great friend! We hang out a bunch and agree on a lot of stuff and I keep the bullies off his back.

But I can’t call Triton with Grover there, or practice my waterbending, or my Purification magic.

I’m bored.

The flu pandemic just can’t end quickly enough.

OO OO OO OO OO OO OO OO

I’m at the edge of the pit again.

“Welcome back little Half-Blood.”

“My name is Percy, not little Half-Blood.”

The voice hummed, I think it’s a guy but I’m not sure.

“Well then little Percy,”

The voice is totally just trying to annoy me.

“Where do you live?” It finished.

Faint whispers reached me, I can only pick out a few odd words, something about disgusting and mortal? He heard a faint whisper of clearer, and last time?

I wonder what that was about. They sounded like multiple voices now, I don’t know who they are.

“I’m not supposed to give my location to dream strangers Mr. Pit Voice, my mom said so.”

And why does the voice want to know where I live anyways? That seems creepy.

The voice chuckled again, I swear I that heard some snickers beneath it too.

“A fair point little Percy, very well then. What-“

I woke up.

OO OO OO OO OO OO OO OO

I’m working on my present for Triton for the winter solstice.

I maybe kinda might be sulking about missing the equinox.

I did manage to get my hands on some pearls (the normal kind) while I was in the ocean over the summer. Now I’m trying to make Triton an arm band to go with the ones he normally wears.

They’re basically part of his crown (they show his station and the carvings show how significant he is). Most sea beings with any kind of rank have them. They’re valuable.

I don’t have any mind you, but I’m technically of land. And family is supposed to give them. Hopefully Triton doesn’t take me making him one as an insult.

Thankfully I don’t need to do complicated carvings, I managed to get nice wire from the art room, I was carefully shaping it into some runes shapes, then I’m gonna (very carefully and did a lot of practice before doing it) carve careful strengthening and color changing runes in.

I only have like a dozen runes mastered to the point that I can safely use them, two preservation ones, two color changing ones, three peace inducing ones, two purifying ones and then the new ones, three strengthening ones.

Runes are a lot harder to master than people think.

I’ll add the pearls last, the order and colors are important too.

And of course, I have to make my other friends something too.

Oh, and Grover, I figure I can make a wood carving of a tree for Grover, I’ve already gotten the wood too.

I’m planning on doing some fancy shell and pearl necklaces for Samoa and Elei, colors matching to their scales of course. I’m still trying to figure out how to infuse them with gentle purifying energy, it’s a work in progress.

For Masina I found a really nice spiral shell and I’m infusing it with purifying energy, using a rune base to help hold it.

For Fetu and Lagi I’m painting some cool rocks I found, I’m also planning on infusing them with purifying energy.

So, sue me, I’m running low on gift ideas. And I’m not super close to them, we only see each other every now and then.

I still don’t know what they might like as a present.

OO OO OO OO OO OO OO OO

I’m standing in a hall, looking around I realized I’m back in the undersea trench. I peered out the window to see the lantern fish swimming around.

Well at least this time I don’t have to make my way into the palace.

I turned to try and find my way through.

Wandering around I stared in awe at the sparkling inner walls of the palace.

For all that the outside is dark and scary, the inside is bright with glowing walls and misty effects at the ceiling.

The patterns on the floor are cool too.

“I see you’re back little half-blood.”

I whipped around to see the merman from last time there again.

I noted more details this time, like the bands around the merman’s arm.

…

I quickly twisted my hand into the proper show of respect, this was… this was…

“What are you doing in my palace little half-blood?”

I bit my lip, “I didn’t mean too, I went to sleep and ended up here.”

The merman hummed, “Prophetic dreaming then? Interesting…”

Going here without permission could end badly.

“I’m sorry for intruding.”

The merman’s eyes gleamed, “I sense my power on you, you’ve interacted with something of mine.”

I frowned, I have no idea what he’s was talking about. But maybe he’s…

“What’s your name again little Half-Blood? I didn’t quite catch it last time.”

“I’m-“ It feels like I’m drifting, but leaving without answering wouldn’t be smart, “I’m Percy Ja-“

I left Oceanus’s Palace and woke up.

OO OO OO OO OO OO OO OO

I’m back home for winter break, I finally get to see my mom again (I missed her a lot), and ignore Gabe. The best thing though, I get to see Triton in person again at last!

I couldn’t help wondering at my dreams though, apparently prophetic visions? That’s what Oceanus said.

I got to meet Oceanus, my probable dad. He even made a comment about sensing something of his, maybe he just didn’t realize it was me?

I’m honestly almost giddy.

OO OO OO OO OO OO OO OO

I traded gifts with Triton first, giving Triton the arm-band I made, Triton thanked me for it. He didn’t seem insulted, but he ducked his head so I couldn’t really see his face.

He seemed pleased when he left though, so I’m satisfied.

In return Triton gave me a knife. It was made of Abyssal Platinum, found in deepest parts of the ocean trenches. It’s a valuable material, rare but highly coveted in ocean warfare.

The knife is small, but would do damage, it’s hilt is coated in sea serpent scales. And wrapped in Kraken leather.

It’s amazing.

I love it so much. I’ll make sure to keep it in perfect condition. It’s worth a lot more than my partially Celestial Bronze trident.

OO OO OO OO OO OO OO OO

I traded gifts with my friends, I left my gift for Grover with him before I left, and now gave my merfriends their gifts.

Somoa gave me a shell that played the sounds of the sea, since they knew that my teacher went on land a lot.

That way I could always have a bit of the ocean with me.

Elei gave me some armor for my chest, interlocking plates that were apparently made of sea serpent scales.

It’s really pretty, I’m definitely going to treasure it.

Masina got me a stone that would still the waters if I tossed it. It would be useful for low level storms and the like, but apparently it wouldn’t work for much else yet. They were still improving the technique.

Fetu got me a book on the Siren’s Song, he apparently found out I was working on it. It was a rarer one from his parents library. I’m really looking forward to reading it.

Lagi got me the start of a healing kit. I really need to work on my healing more, but Purification is so interesting, and so’s Siren’s Song. I just haven’t had time for it.

I’ll have to try to make time.

Overall, it’s been a great Solstice.

Of course, that’s when the Ocean erupted into a storm.

OO OO OO OO OO OO OO OO

I was back on shore quickly thanks to Triton, he told me to go home and stay there while Triton finds out what happened.

It took a week for Triton to get back to me. And even then, he didn’t appear himself, or Iris message.

He sent one of his most discreet messengers, a seagull that was exceptionally good at avoiding attention.

Apparently, Poseidon was being accused of a theft, a really major one.

It could mean war.

I’m supposed to lay low. Iris messages couldn’t be trusted until the situation calmed down.

Triton would contact me when it did.

Until then I’m to act as if nothing happened.

OO OO OO OO OO OO OO OO

I went back to Yancey Academy and pretended that I wasn’t sick with worry.

I acted like nothing was wrong, nothing at all.

We got a new teacher, Ms. Dodds.

I have a really bad feeling about the rest of the year.

#percy jackson #powerful percy #pjo #pjo aus #pjo fanfic #pjo fanfiction #percy jackson fanfiction #percy figures out how to control water young #waterbender percy #percy calls himself a waterbender #triton #Grover underwood #grover #mr. brunner #chiron #percy's merfriends #avatar: the legend of percy #avatar fan percy #Avatar the legend of percy

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thebluenebula · 4 years ago

Text

The 2nd part to my New Bat story which I am totally most likely going to keep writing for the forseeable future.

Masterlist

Day 1

Day 3

A New Bat: Day 2

When I woke up, the sun was shining through the window. I sat up on the edge of my bed and checked my phone. The screen displayed the time, 11:23, and a text from an unkown number.

"Hey Ash, it's Dick. I got your number off B. Whenever you wake up you can head down to the kitchen and Alfred will make whatever you want, it should be quiet as Alfred generally keeps us out of the kitchen."

I saved the number, got dressed, then headed out into the hall. I couldn't see anyone but I could hear a voice in a nearby room. I quickly navigated to the stairs and headed down.

Once I got to the first floor I managed to find my way to the kitchen without running into anybody. I knocked as I opened the door.

"Hello, Miss Ashleigh. May I interest you in some scrambled eggs?"

"Hi Alfred, yeah if you wouldn't mind." I glances around the kitchen to see if anyone else was in here but it was just me and Alfred.

"Of course not, Miss Ashleigh, it's why I'm paid to be here."

I giggled. I could hear the faint whispers of an argument happening somewhere else in the manor. "I would have imagined a family that fights crime dressed as bats at night would sleep during the day."

Alfred grabbed a nearby pan. "If I only I were that lucky."

"Were you a chef before working here? The dinner yesterday was amazing."

"No, but when you been working as a butler as long as I have you are bound to acquire a few skills."

I nodded. "Makes sense."

Alfred handed a plate of eggs to me. "Indeed, Miss Ashleigh. Master Bruce has asked me to inform you that he will be attending a Wayne Enterprise meeting for a large portion of today. It was unavoidable I'm afraid."

I swallowed the piece of egg I was chewing. "Oh, do you know when he will be back?"

"He should be back sometime this evening."

Alfred went over to the sink and began washing the dishes. "Have you met any of the other children?"

"I met Jason last night." I waved my fork around. "He seems... brash. Is brash the right word? What does brash even mean?"

"While Master Jason may seem brash, as you put it, at first when you get to know him... well he will still seem brash but he does have a kind side."

I finished my eggs and brought the plate over to the sink. "It was dark last night when I met him but does he have some kind of streak in his hair?"

"Yes a white streak right the front." Alfred took my plate and put it in the sink alongside the rest. "Its quite a notable feature of his."

I took a seat back at the table. "I always thought it'd be nice to dye my hair."

"Typically when the children want to dye their hair they go to Harper."

"Do a lot of the kids dye their hair?"

Alfred chuckled. "They rarely dye their own hair but often time one of the boys will wake with some kind of brightly coloured hair, unknown to them of course."

I giggled and stood up. "I'm going to head back up to my room."

"Oh I almost forgot. A package came in for you. I believe Master Bruce put it in his office for safety. I can retrive it and bring it up to your room if you would like."

"If you wouldn't mind Alfred. There's no rush on it."

Alfred nodded. "Of course."

"Thank you." I left the kitchen and headed back up the stairs.

I had just reached the second floor when I heard a voice. "Hello."

I looked over and saw a blonde girl standing by the map on the wall. "Hello Stephanie, isn't it?"

She gave me a curious look. "Just Steph will do. How'd you know?"

I pointed to the map. "Dick told me your the one who makes the maps."

"Ah yes. One of my greatest ideas." She laughed. "Your Ashleigh right?"

"Bang on."

"Nice to meet you. I'm heading to join Cass in the library. Maybe you wanna come join us?"

"Uhh" I thought for a moment. "No thanks. Maybe another time though."

"Okay that's fine but you know where to find us if you change your mind." She giggled. "Just check the map."

I nodded and began climbing the stairs to the third floor.

"Ashleigh."

I stopped and turned. Steph was standing at the bottom of the stairs. "Welcome to the family."

I stared at her for a second then I smiled. "Thank you."

She ran off down the hall and I headed up to my room. I managed to not run into anyone else before reaching my room.

I lay into bed and put on my headphones and just got lost in the music for what felt like hours until voices in the hall caught my attention. I stood up and placed my ear against the door.

"What's in the box, Dick?" I heard a voice ask.

"None of our business." Dick replied.

"It sounds like it's broken." Another voice said. It sounded like Jason.

"It sounds like Lego." The mystery voice said. He sounded confused.

They have my box. Alfred must have asked Dick to bring it up.

"Into to toys now, Dickie boy." Jason remarked.

"Lots of adults collect Lego, Jay." The mystery voice sounded offended.

"Would you two shut it." Dick groaned. "The box is Ashleigh's."

"Aww, Dickie. The new girls already got you wrapped round her finger." Jason teased. "I thought it was only redheads-"

I could hear the wack of a hand hitting the back of a head then the clatter of a box of small plastic bricks hitting the ground. I flinched knowing that I would have to reconstruct whichever of my poor sets were in that box.

I heard a groan from Dick and lots of laughter. I figured I should go out and get my box before anymore damage is done. I stepped out in to the hall to see Dick picking up the box, Jason was on the ground pissing himself laughing, and the third guy just looked like he was wishing he hadn't been adopted.

"You okay?" I asked them.

All of them stopped and looked at me. Dick stepped forward and handed me the slightly dented box. "Im so sorry. Jay dropped your box."

Jason, who was now on his feet, feigned offense. "ME! You dropped it."

"But it was your fault." Dick shook his head. "We can play the blame game later." He turned to me. "I'm sorry if anything is broken."

I smiled at him. "Nothing I can't rebuild."

"So it is Lego." The third guy jumped in.

I looked at him curiously. " Yes."

Dick pointed to the man. "Ashleigh, this is Tim. Tim, this is Ashleigh."

Tim outstretched his hand. "Nice to meet you."

I nodded to him. "Likewise."

"Well now that everyone is introduced," Jason interrupted. "I have to go. I promised Alfred I'd help with dinner."

Jason walked off. Dick looked at me and handed me the box. "Bruce should be home soon. Alfred said dinner should be ready about ten. You can come down or if you don't feel like it, text me and Alfred will bring it up."

I nodded. "Okay, thanks."

Dick nodded. "I'll talk to you later, I think Babs is coming around for dinner today so I should probably tell Alfred."

Dick walked off leaving me and Tim standing there. "Well I should go put this box down my arms are getting tired."

"Mind if I come in for minute?"

"No, you can come in." We both went back to my room and set the box down in the corner.

"So you're into Lego."

"Yuuup." I opened the box to inspect the damage. The set was completely smashed. I'd have to rebuild it from scratch.

Tim was looking over my shoulder. "I could help you with that if you want."

I stood up and faced him. "That's okay. I find the building quite enjoyable."

He nodded. "Okay cool. It's nice to have a new face around the manor."

"Thanks." I smiled at him.

Tim looked at me for a moment. He looked as if he wanted to say something but didn't. "No problem. I'll talk to you later."

"Okay see yah."

I watched curiosly as Tim left the room then I sat down on the bed.

A moment later I heard a voice outside my room. "Hey Tim." It sounded like Bruce.

"Bruce, what's up?"

"I'm looking for Ashleigh, is she in her room?" I heard Bruce ask.

"Yeah I was just talking to her." Tim replied.

"You should head down. Alfred said dinner should be ready soon."

"Gotcha."

I heard Tim walk off down the hallway as Bruce approached my room. "Hello."

I looked up from my phone to see Bruce standing in the doorway. "Hi."

"Can I come in?"

I nodded.

He came in and sat on the bed beside me. He looked around the room. The room was empty bar my single bed, an old dresser, my suitcases, and the box. "I didn't think there was a room this small in the mansion." He laughed. "I can get Alfred or Dick to bring you furniture shopping one of the days. If you'd like."

"Yeah that'd be okay." While both Dick and Alfred were practically stranger's to me, I felt close to them. I felt close to some people very easily. All it really takes is one good moment between us and I'd basically trust them with my life. One of my many bad traits.

"Or," Bruce continued. "You could wait till the weekend and I could bring you."

I looked up to his face. "Really?"

He smiled. "Of course. I have to work most weekdays but im free on the weekends." The smile disappeared off his face. "Look I know it's gonna be difficult for you to adjust to this family but-"

I wrapped my arms around him. As silly as it may be, I mean I've only known Bruce a couple months, but he already feels like family to me. Bruce embraced me.

We sat like that for a while until he let me go. "Dinner must be almost ready." He stood up. "I can have Alfred bring yours up, or you can come down." He offered me a hand up.

I took his hand and stood up. "I'll come down. I gotta get used to everyone eventually."

"Are you sure?"

I nodded

We headed down to the dining room amd stood outside the two doors. "Everyone will be in here are you sure you're ready?" Bruce asked me.

I nodded and gulped nervously.

"I asked Dick to keep a seat between me and him for you, or you can sit in another free seat if you feel like it."

Bruce stepped forward and opened the door. We walked inside. I had been told how many people would be here but seeing them, it seemed like so many more. My heart began to race and I froze. It felt like an eternity, though it was only a second, as I took I'm the vast array of people at the table. Most looked up from their meals to see who had just entered the room, some were too occupied eating whatever food Alfred had prepared. I felt Bruce's hand on my shoulder and I snapped out of it. He guided me towards the head of the table. I could feel the eyes on me. We stopped and I sat at the chair in front of me as Bruce took a seat at the head of the table just beside me. I looked to my right and Dick was sitting there just as Bruce had said. Across the table from me was a small child and beside him was Tim. I looked down at my plate as to avoid the gaze of the people I could feel looking at me.

"I hope this meal is of sastifaction Miss Ashleigh." Alfred asked.

I looked up to see Alfred standing beside my seat. "Of course, Alfred."

He nodded and turned to Bruce. "I asked them to wait for you before beginning."

Bruce smirked. "I see, then it should be no surprise they started without me then."

Everyone seemed to have gone back to their own conversations amongst themselves.

"Ashleigh." I heard Dick say beside me. I turned to him. "I'd like you to meet someone." He slid his chair back so I could see the girl sitting beside him.

The girl smiled at me. "I'm Babara, but you can just call me Babs."

"I'm Ashleigh."

"That's a lovely name." Babs looked to the people behind her who were deep in conversation then she looked back to me. "You can come to me if any of these smucks are getting on your nerve. I've got blackmail on all of them."

"Wow." Dick quickly butted in. "What blackmail?"

"Wouldn't you like to know, Discowing." Babs teased.

I looked at Babs. "Discowing?"

Dick quickly slid his chair inbetween me and Babs. "Its nothing."

I saw Babs laughing the other side of Dick as his face went red. I looked down at my food then up again. The small boy across from me was just staring at me. Tim elbowed him and they immediately started into some kind of whisper argument.

"That's Damien." Dick said. "He can be a bit... intense sometimes. Don't worry he'll warm up to you quickly."

The rest of the dinner went by without much interesting happening. Though I could have sworn Damien was attempting to stab Tim under the table at one point. Dick and Babs were completely enthralled in a conversation that they both seemed to have forgotten I was there. Bruce would occasionally glance up from his meal to me and smile but he didn't appear to be able to think of anything to say. I just tried to focus on my food for the most part and not all the other people at the table.

I had almost finished my plate when Bruce finally spoke. "It's probably best I introduce them all to you."

"Yeah."

"You sure?"

I nodded then he stood up. He gestured for me to stand up and I did. He tapped a spoon on the side of his glass. Everyone stopped talking and looked up to us.

"It's not too often we're all here together." Bruce began. "Certainly not as often as I'd like-"

Bruce voice faded away, all I could focus on was all the people in front of me. I could feel the panic setting in.

After what felt like an eternity, I heard Bruce's voice. "Ashleigh?"

I looked up at Bruce. He nodded his head towards the table. I looked towards the table. Everyone was looking up at me. Was I supposed to say something? I gave a weak smile and waved. It's all I could do, I don't think my voice would work if I tried.

I felt Bruce hand on my shoulder gently pushing me down. I took my seat and so did Bruce. I felt Dick's hand on my back. I kept my eyes on my plate then looked up to Bruce. "May I be excused?"

Bruce nodded. "Of course."

I stood up and quickly walked out of the nearest door, making sure to avoid looking at anyone at the table. I ended up in the Kitchen. Alfred was standing by the sink. "Miss Ashleigh, are you alright?"

I nodded but I could see myself shaking.

Obviously so could Alfred. "Take a seat Miss Ashleigh, I'll get you a glass of water."

I took a seat at the counter. I heard a door open behind me. "Alfred is Ashleigh here?" Bruce noticed me and rushed to my side. "Ashleigh are you okay?"

"I'm so sorry." My words were shaky. I was holding back tears.

I felt Bruce's arms wrap around me. "You don't need to be sorry. It was just too many people, I understand."

I began sobbing. "I thought... I could..."

"Ashleigh, this won't go away over night. No one is expecting it to."

Alfred stood on the other side of me and handed me a glass of water. "Drink Miss Ashleigh it will help."

I sat there sipping the water for a couple minutes until I had calmed down. Bruce and Alfred never left my side. I giggled a little while sobbing. "A great first impression."

"No one will judge you. I promise." Bruce reassured me.

I nodded. "Is it okay if I go up to my room?"

"Of course." Bruce took his arms from around me. "Do you want someone to come up with you?" I shook my head. Bruce nodded. "I'll come check on you in a while."

I nodded and walked towards the door. I headed up to my room. Everyone must have been still eating cause I didn't run into anyone on my way up. I locked myself in the room and began piecing together the set the boys had broken.

Some time passed when a knock at the door startled me out of my building trance. How long had I been at this. I stood up and opened the door. Bruce was standing there. "Hi, I just wanted to check on you ." Bruce glanced around me at the mess of Lego across the wooden floor. "You collect Lego?"

I looked back at the mess. "Yeah."

"Some of the others buy the occasional ones but I don't think any are into collecting it." Bruce commented.

"Oh cool." I smile at him.

His smile faded. "I want to apologise about this evening. I'm so sorry about that."

I gave Bruce a small smile. "It's okay. I'm okay."

Bruce sat down on the bed beside me. "Seeing all those people would be intimidating at the best of times. Under your circumstances I-" He stopped himself. "I'm sorry. Take things at your own pace, however fast or slow that is."

I leaned into him and place my head against his shoulder. "Thank you."

He place his arm around me and we sat like that for a while.

Eventually I spoke. "I really should probably get to sleep."

Bruce nodded and stood up. "If you need anything you know where to find me."

I nodded. Bruce hesitated for a moment then left. I locked the door behind him and checked my phone. 22:36. I pushed my mess to one corner of the room then hopped into bed. It wasn't long before I fell asleep.

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anomander-dragnipurake · 4 years ago

Text

Evil New Year’s Resolution

Happy New Year Eve everyone!

One would think given how often Peach had been the target of various evil schemes in the past her castle would have better security. To be fair, those schemes had been from people who were alive but there were ways to keep the dead out and E. Gadd, the expert and inventor for many such ways, was an ally of hers so one would think she’d cover all her bases just in case. But whatever, King Boo wasn’t going to question his good fortune.

Finding Peach’s room took almost no time at all; it was extravagant as expected from a princess’ room and very pink. Not the only colour in the room but its presence far outweighed any other to the point of being borderline annoying. At least it was neat and tidy so King Boo wouldn’t have to wait around whilst surrounded by a mess. Waiting at all sucked but he couldn’t risk having his ploy discovered especially so early. So with a sigh, he settled down to wait in the corner.

He was in luck though; it wasn’t even quite half an hour before Peach came into the room. “Yes, good night to you too Toadsworth,” she was saying over her shoulder as she stepped in. There was a reply but it was inaudible from King Boo’s position in the far corner.

After closing the door, Peach turned and flounced further into the room, completely oblivious to King Boo’s presence for now. She went straight to her vanity dresser. Standing before it, she should be able to see his reflection in the mirror as he slid into position behind her. … She let out a gasp. Before she could scream or even start to turn around to face him, he pulled on his magic and the magic he’d stored in his crown to force his soul into her body.

After a few brief moments of mostly nothing he was suddenly quite uncomfortable. The floor was too solid beneath him as gravity pushed him down onto it. Peach’s heart beat in her chest rhythmically as her lungs instinctively worked to pull in air and then expel. He could stop both processes if he wanted to and he kind of did because it was a rather unpleasant sensation after going so long without experiencing it that he’d forgotten it but inhabiting a rotting corpse would render his plan nigh on impossible so he’d just have to deal with it.

Peach was confused, she had no idea what happened; he could feel her emotions and thoughts brush against him, stronger now that he was paying attention to her. A spike of fear ran through her as he sat up and pulled her hands into to look at them as he flexed them. He’d forgotten what having hands was like too – not that he needed them when he could use magic for everything.

Hello princess. He thought at her with a chuckle.

She gasped again as her fear spiked higher immediately followed by righteous anger. ‘King Boo! What do you want? And… what’s happening?’

You’re my meat puppet now and you’re going to help me get some vengeance.

Oh, she was very frightened now and even if she wasn’t his true target it was still quite nice. ‘Mario will save me.’ Some of her fear melted away at her confidence in that statement. That just couldn’t do.

Yeah, sure because he’s done such a good job defeating me before.

‘Luigi then. He’ll beat you up like he always does you dumb giant marshmallow!’

King Boo growled; how dare she call him a marshmallow? Not this time because I have you. Meaning nothing could be done to him without hurting Peach which neither Mario or Luigi would do willingly.

‘Fuck you!’

King Boo ignored her this time. Instead, he stood up. It proved to be harder than it seemed; he had to contend with gravity and legs were far more unstable than just being able to float was. He took one step and… lost his precarious balance, landing on Peach’s face.

‘Ha! You can’t even walk, how pathetic.’

He growled both internally and externally. You can’t fly, that’s far more pathetic. Legs were an inferior way of getting around and he hated them already. But he needed to get used to using them again before the New Year’s Eve party tomorrow night. So, determined to ensure his plan would be perfect, he stood up again. All he needed was a little practice walking and all would be good.

New Year’s Eve

King Boo looked into the mirror, ensuring the hair dye hadn’t been bleached away by his magic yet and that the contacts were still in place. Neither was an exact match for Peach hair and eye colour but it was close enough that the dim lighting of the party should obscure it enough to make it hard to notice. Disguising his crown had proven to be far harder so instead he’d rendered it invisible.

‘Mario’s not going to be fooled by you,” Peach cut in, more angry now than afraid. ‘Neither will…’

He growled at her, drowning out the rest of that thought. It had only been a day and he was already sick and tired of her. He could block out her thoughts and emotions fairly well but whenever she wanted to say something to him it was a lot harder to not hear it.

But at least he looked the part of the princess, mostly anyway. Her one pair of non-heeled shoes didn’t match the fancy gown – which like her normal dresses was too pink for his tastes – but there was no way he was wearing heels of any height. They made the whole balancing thing even more of a chore. So, doing his best to ignore Peach and her angry nagging, he left her room and started for the main hall.

“Everything’s all set and ready to go,” Toadsworth said as she strode in. And truly everything was set and ready to go; snack and drink tables flanked the hall, balloons covered the ceiling, and the big clock with the ‘Happy New Year’ banner had been centered against the wall on one side of the room.

“Thank you,” he said with a forced smile, doing his best to imitate Peach’s speech pattern. “Happy New Year.”

“Happy New Year to you too Princess!” he replied seemingly totally fooled. Which frustrated Peach while making King Boo quite proud. Now all he had to do was fool Mario and Luigi, how hard could that be?

As predicted Mario and Luigi were among the first guests to arrive – Gooigi for some reason wasn’t with them, basically sealing King Boo’s victory here because they were the only one who might be able to detect him. They both wore dresses; Mario red and Luigi green. Which was a surprise, he’d never seen them dress that way before, but honestly a pleasant one; it would make them look better once in their portraits.

The look Mario gave him as they exchanged New Year’s greetings and well wishes made him want to gag. But he was a decent actor when he really tried and showed no outward sign of disgust. Nor did he react to Peach’s anger and frantic futile attempts to wrest control back from him.

All he had to do was keep that act up for a handful of hours until midnight. Purely for the drama of it, he was going to make his move at the exact start of the new year.

***

Something had seemed off the moment Luigi had stepped into the main hall of Peach’s castle. What it might be, he couldn’t say to save his life but something wasn’t right. He’d been sure it was his imagination as there wasn’t anything visually off but as midnight crept ever closer he was more and more convinced that that wasn’t the case. But what was it?

If he didn’t know better, he’d say it was ghosts but last he’d checked the castle wasn’t haunted. If only he had Gooigi or Polterpup with him to know for sure though, but Polterpup didn’t do well at parties, especially fancy ones such this, and Gooigi was helping E. Gadd with an experiment; when asked they’d said they preferred to miss the party to continue with that.

“Peach is acting a bit off,” Mario said when Luigi finally broke down and asked him if he sensed anything strange.

“What do you mean?” Luigi asked because he hadn’t noticed that. To be fair, he didn’t know Peach nearly as well as Mario and wasn’t spending as much time with her tonight.

“I don’t know just… not quite right. She seems excited though, I think. Which is probably good, right?”

Hmmm… maybe she was finally thinking of making a move on Mario. It’d be about time if so, the way they danced around their feelings for each other had been going on for quite a while now and thus they needed to just get it over with already and talk about it. But then again maybe it had something to do with whatever Luigi was feeling. What could the correlation be though?

“But uh… why are you asking?” Mario continued. “Is something bothering you?”

“Uh… yeah. I don’t know what though just… something’s not right.” And he hated that he couldn’t articulate what.

“Well, last time you felt this way it was at the Last Resort Hotel and we brushed it off and that ended up being a mistake. So maybe it’s ghosts again?”

“I don’t know, maybe.”

“Or maybe you’re just anxious about the new year?”

“Yeah, maybe. … Probably.” He’d certainly gotten that way about things before.

“Well if anything happens, I got your back. I’m going to go chat with Peach again, see if I can’t figure out what’s up with her. See you later.” He gave Luigi a slight tap on the shoulder with his fist before heading off.

***

As was standard for fancy New Year parties, people paid more and more attention to the clock as midnight approached. What they didn’t know was that more and more boos crept into the hall too, eager to witness the grand finale or to assist King Boo if he needed them. He didn’t think he would though.

At a minute to midnight, he had everyone living facing the clock. He stood behind them on a raised dais, ostensibly ready to lead the verbal countdown to the new year. What he was really doing though was prepping the portrait. It wasn’t a large party but there were still a substantial number of people, sucking that many people up into a portrait all at once would be a bit difficult but it could be done if the portrait was big enough and the pull of his magic into it was strong enough.

The countdown started soon after he’d magically stretched the portrait to the right size. “Ten… nine…” he said in unison with everyone else as he channeled his magic through the portrait, opening it up to suck people in. “…eight… seven… six…” If anyone noticed the soft purple glow coming the portrait and turned around to investigate, his plan might be in trouble. “…five… four…” Intoxicated and engrossed in the clock, no one did though. “… three… two…”

On “one,” Mario, standing a short distance away, glanced back. The fondness in his expression immediately morphed into fear and surprise. All he had time for was a gasp as the clock struck midnight a second later and King Boo snapped the giant portrait down onto everyone, sucking them all up into it.

Maniacal boo laughter filled the hall instead of the cheer that normally would’ve gone up. Trapped in his body, Peach cried and flung anger and despair at King Boo which only made him laugh harder. Ah, victory at last was so, so sweet.

With a chuckle, he levitated the portrait off the floor leaned it against the wall. With loud cheers and laughter, the boos gathered closer to admire it alongside him.

As was the way with such portraits, everyone trapped within it faced outwards, the expression on their face the same as the moment the painting had lowered onto the. It was mostly Toads, though several friends of the Mushroom Kingdom were here too, including a handful of Yoshis. And there was Mario, the only one with a scared expression which was wonderful. … But as King Boo’s eyes continued to rove the canvas, it became more and more obvious that something, no someone was missing.

“Where’s Luigi?” one of the boos pipped up because well, Luigi was nowhere to be seen on the canvas.

***

Cowering behind a pillar, Luigi flinched at the sound of his name. Overwhelmed by the feeling of something being wrong, he’d snuck out to get some fresh air. He’d returned just in time to see the portrait slam down on everyone, trapping them all within it.

“I don’t know.” It was physically Peach’s voice but the anger and hatred in it wasn’t Peach. Luigi had a not so sneaking suspicion as to who might actually be speaking. “Find him.”

Luigi clapped a hand over his mouth to prevent a fearful whimper from escaping. … He had to do something though. Mario had been captured again, alongside everyone else at the party and… poor Peach was possessed. So, before his hiding spot could be discovered, he gathered up the skirts of his dress in one hand so he wouldn’t trip and hurried back to the rear exit. It led out to the castle courtyard so he’d still be trapped but it was better than staying in here with no ghost hunting equipment.

Once outside, he hid behind a bush and pulled out his phone. … E. Gadd picked up on the third ring.

“Happy New Year sonny,” he said, jovial as ever as if he hadn’t let King Boo escape again. Unless he didn’t know but how likely was that?

“King Boo’s here!” Luigi spoke in a frantic whisper in case any boos had ventured into the courtyard.

“Oh! Hold on a sec… good news Gooigi, Luigi found King Boo.” If Gooigi replied, their answer wasn’t audible over the phone. “What’s the situation?” E. Gadd asked, speaking directly into the phone once more.

“He’s trapped Mario and everyone else in a big portrait and uh… he’s possessing Peach.”

“Oh! Hmmm… sounds like quite the predicament. Possessing Peach is definitely going to make dealing with him a bit harder, huh?”

“Yes but… why didn’t you tell me he’d escaped again?” Luigi had a right to know that kind of thing, didn’t he? He was King Boo’s primary target after all.

“Because I figured you’d probably be mad at me. Also, I thought with Gooigi’s help I could find and recapture him before he made another move. We’ve been looking all over for him.” Ah, so that was the secret ‘experiment’ they’d been working on. “Oh well, at least we found him. I’ll be over with Gooigi and the portable lab in no time. Oh also, I made some more improvements to the Poltergust, this’ll be the perfect opportunity to test them. Hang tight until I get there.” With that, he hung up, leaving Luigi on his own.

Assuming he was at his lab, it would take him about an hour to drive all the way down here. Meaning Luigi had to survive being hunted by a hoard of boos and King Boo himself for a whole hour before he could fight back. … He should’ve at least brought the Poltergust’s flashlight, huh? Too late now though, he’d just have to do his best and hope E. Gadd and Gooigi arrived before it was too late. … What an awful way to start the New Year. On the bright side, assuming they all got out of this, things could only get better from here, right?

#my writing #super mario bros #Luigi's Mansion #King Boo #Luigi #Mario #Peach #New Year eve #Crossdressing

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